Saving Gracie (16 page)

“Uh…no.” Meghan pulled a pillow in her lap and scrunched it up under her chin. “You know goodbyes make me crazy. I’ll just stay here and…oh, I don’t know…read a cookbook or something.”

That
brought a smile to Quinlan’s lips. Meghan hadn’t cooked a meal since Quinlan arrived.

When the doorbell chimed, Quinlan dropped her hands to her lap. “Bet that’s my travel packet.”

“You need a passport?”

Quinlan shrugged. “Guess we’ll see.”

CHAPTER 24

QUINLAN

A uniformed messenger boy stood on the front porch scribbling on a clipboard. “Travel packet for a return trip?”

Quinlan nodded.

“Sign here please.” The messenger tapped the clipboard.

The over-sized metallic blue canvas bag sitting beside the messenger held Quinlan’s attention. Feeling Meghan’s elbow in her ribs, she signed her name.

“Step back please.” The messenger shoved the large lumpy bag through the door. He tipped his hat and left without another word.

Quinlan and Meghan circled the heap on the floor like sparring partners in a fighter’s ring. A carabiner attached a manila envelope to the side of the huge duffle bag.

“I can’t deal with this now,” Quinlan said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Oh, come on. Let’s look inside first.” Meghan tentatively poked at it.

Quinlan slapped her hand away. “No! Stop that.”

The women grabbed their purses and headed for the door.

“Wait.” Quinlan took off down the hall and returned dragging two medium-size stuffed book bags and Ruby’s postcard pressed between her lips. She shoved a bag toward Meghan and peeled the postcard from her mouth. “These go back to the library.”

Under the weight of the books, the sisters labored down the street. Reaching the corner, Meghan dropped her bag to the sidewalk, huffing. “You actually read all these?”

Quinlan shrugged. “I wanted to be thorough.”

Meghan rolled her eyes in a what-else-is-new look.

Moments later a green tram appeared. They managed to lug the book bags on board before the doors slid shut and found a seat just as the small trolley pulled from the curb.             

Quinlan pressed her nose against the window like a tourist sightseeing. She pointed to the Universal Bowling Lanes. “Has that always been there?”

“Yep.”

“What about that?” Looking out the opposite side of her personal tour bus, Quinlan gawked at thousands of tiny white lights hanging from huge trees. Mini putting greens wormed through the Milky Way Miniature Golf Course. Even during the day the lights sparkled like a backdrop in a fairytale.

Meghan nodded. “Yeah, that too.”

“Geez.” After catching a glimpse of the Starz Movie Theater off to the right, the extent of her narrow-minded obsession with Gracie hit her front and center. She’d missed a lot, which reminded her of another important issue she’d forgotten to address. “Now, tell me about Dad. Have you seen him?”

“Man, you have been way out there.” Meghan shook her head. “You’re just now asking about our own father?”

Quinlan shot Meghan a “yikes” look.

“He’s doing fine. He knows you’re here, said he’d catch up with you later,”

Quinlan lowered her voice. “I hate to ask…but…have you seen Mom?”

Meghan scratched her chin and gazed out her window. “No, but she’s here.”

“How do you know?” Quinlan asked. “Maybe she, you know, didn’t make it.”

“That’s a whole other ball of wax,” Meghan said, “for another time.”

They rode in silence the rest of the trip, exiting at the Galactic Library of Knowledge. With the books unloaded and safely returned, they headed to Angela’s.

After being seated at their favorite outside table, Meghan ordered champagne.

“Champagne?” Quinlan asked.

Meghan tilted her head. “I think it’s appropriate.”

Touched, Quinlan placed her napkin in her lap.

Flutes of sparkling wine appeared in front of them. Meghan raised her glass. “To a successful trip.”

Quinlan toasted and then set her glass down, her eyes fixated on the champagne bubbles.

“Reminds you of Gracie, doesn’t it?” Meghan asked.

Quinlan half-smiled. “Yes, it does.” She twirled the stem between her fingers, a far-away look on her face. “It was our anniversary. We didn’t have a babysitter so we took Gracie with us. She was five. Tom and I drank champagne and Gracie had a Shirley Temple. We toasted and she asked if we could do that
clinking thing
again.”

The women sat with their own inner thoughts for a few minutes.

Meghan broke the silence. “Can I ask a question?”

Raising an eyebrow, Quinlan wondered what possible question had not already been answered a hundred times.

“Not trying to be critical, I promise.” Meghan held her hand in the air as if taking an oath.

“Go ahead.”

“I was just wondering.” Meghan cleared her throat. “What do you think you’re actually going to accomplish? You know, for Gracie.”

She searched for an answer she didn’t have. “I don’t know. I was so sure I needed to get back, and now….” Quinlan shoved her hands in her pockets and came out with the neon orange postcard. “I don’t know.” She turned a weak smile on her sister. “As much as I can, I guess.”

“You know, it’s always been a blur where you leave off and Gracie begins. You two were like polar opposites, but at the same time…joined at the hip.”

Quinlan nodded. She’d dictated her daughter’s entire life. She knew that. And now, without her direction, Gracie would fail. She just knew it.

“Well,” Meghan sighed. “What should we do next?”

She held the glowing postcard to her temple, resembling a Johnny Carson Carnac routine. “Call Ruby.”

Meghan snorted laughter. “You need a turban.”

Quinlan giggled herself, pleased she still possessed a thread of humor. She pulled her silver cell phone from her pocket and pushed *5. Ruby answered on the first ring.

“Ruby. This is—that’s right.

“Yes, just about.

“No, she’s not.” Quinlan made a yakkety-yak sign with her hand then rolled her eyes.

“Okay. That’ll be—” Quinlan nodded. “I’ll tell her.

“Thank you. Okay—that’s right. See you then.”

Snapping the phone shut, she shook her head. “And I thought I was nervous.”

“What did she say?”

“Let’s see.” Quinlan replayed the one-sided conversation. “She wanted to know if I was packed. She insists on taking me to the transport station tomorrow. Said it’s her duty.” Quinlan folded her napkin. “She’s going to help with the garden while I’m gone.” Pause. “And, she said for you not to worry.”

Meghan gulped down the last of her champagne. “Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen.”

~~~

Quinlan broke the stone-cold silence. “What do you think it is?” Back at the cottage, they’d been sitting on the couch, studying the lumpy blue duffle bag.

Meghan reached out and nudged the lump with her toe. “An inflatable raft?”

“Don’t make me hurt you.”

“Sorry.” Meghan crossed and uncrossed her arms. “I get snarky when I’m nervous…love the color though.”             

Shooting Meghan a dirty look, Quinlan eased her way up to unpin the manila envelope. She held it in her palms, outstretched.

Meghan cleared the kitchen table. “Bring it here, we’ll go through it together.”

Her eyes glued to the manila folder, Quinlan remained where she stood.

“You’re being a wuss. Stop it,” Meghan said. “You’ll be fine. Bring it here.”

Quinlan, voice still muted, moved to the table.

“Want me to open it for you?” Meghan lifted the envelope off Quinlan’s platter palms.

Tears pooled around Quinlan’s eyes.             

“Ah, geez. C’mon, don’t do that.” Meghan squeezed Quinlan’s hand.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Quinlan crossed her arms over her stomach. “Why did I think I could
do
this? And my head hurts. Maybe I should call in sick.”

Meghan raised an eyebrow. “Ya think they’re gonna call in a sub? After all this?” Meghan gestured toward the oversized blue lump and the bags Quinlan had packed. “Get serious.”

“I am serious.” Quinlan sat at the table. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“
Now
she decides.” Meghan shook her head. “Look at me.”

Quinlan raised her eyes.

“Sit up straight,” Meghan said.

She forced her shoulders back.

“Now repeat.” Meghan straightened herself. “I, Quinlan…or do you prefer Kathryn?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I, Quinlan or Kathryn, whatever your name is….”

Quinlan sucked in and tried to keep her shoulders back. “I, Quinlan or Kathryn, whatever my name is….”

“Hey!” A look of relief crossed Meghan’s face. “You made a joke! Okay, once more. I, Quinlan.”

“I, Quinlan.”

“Embrace the opportunity I have been given.” Meghan’s voice blared strong and forceful. “I will remember I asked for this assignment and agree to willingly perform the task to the best of my ability.”

Quinlan’s eyebrows rose. “That’s really good.”

“Say it,” Meghan said.

After repeating Meghan’s impromptu litany, Quinlan pulled the envelope toward her and emptied the contents on the table without ceremony. Three pamphlets slid out, along with a map, a trouble-shooting chart and a bright blue badge embossed with the words “gold card.” A blue ID bracelet and a pair of blue sparkly glasses attached to a matching blue-beaded eyeglass chain followed after a final shake.

“I can’t wear these.” Quinlan held up the glasses. The frames swept upward into a wicked point. “They’re tacky. And definitely not my color.”

“Oh, lighten up.”

“I’ll look like Catwoman hosed down in blue glitter.”

“Or a Smurfette.”

Quinlan glared.

“Sorry. Snarky, remember?” Meghan grabbed the large envelope and peered inside. “Hey, here’s something else.” A standard, letter-size envelope fell to the table. “It says Open Tonight.”

Running a finger briefly over the ID bracelet, Quinlan pushed it aside and reached for the pamphlets.

Upon Arrival

FAQ

In Case of Emergency

She swallowed hard. Emergency?

“I’m sure this is all…” Meghan rolled her hand around in a nonchalant circle, “standard procedure.”

A fresh round of fear moved across Quinlan’s face. Her temples throbbed. “Why’s everything blue?”

Borrowing a
Steel Magnolias
accent, Meghan drawled out each word. “Maybe it’s your new signature color.”

Quinlan rolled her eyes.

Meghan touched Quinlan’s arm. “It’s getting late, why don’t you get some sleep.”

“In a minute, Clairee.” Quinlan reached for the Open Tonight envelope. “I still need to read this.” Sliding a fingernail under the sealed flap, she made a mental note to pack an emery board. She opened the single sheet of heavy parchment paper and squinted at the small, hand-written script.

Dear Quinlan,

Congratulations on your assignment.

You are to report to the transport station tomorrow morning at 7:00 A.M. sharp. Your travel escort will be waiting. Show your gold card and ID bracelet to the transport assistant. Your assigned ground patrol will be waiting for your arrival on Earth. (Don’t forget the special enclosed glasses). There is no need to worry this evening with the information pamphlets. There will be ample time for review on the trip. For your convenience, a messenger will retrieve your travel gear at 6:00 A.M. and deliver it to the transport station. Attach your personal travel bags to the carabiner on the parachute. Please remember space is limited. We will be in touch and wish you well on your endeavor.

-
The Advisory Council

Quinlan held the piece of parchment to the light. “Attach your personal travel bag to the…I can’t read this word.”

“Here.” Meghan reached for the letter. “Let’s see… Attach your blah, blah, blah, to the carabiner on the parachute.” Meghan froze.

“
On the what?
”

“Carabiner,” Meghan scrambled. “It’s one of those
—”

“No. The other word.” Ice stirred through Quinlan’s veins.

Meghan sucked in, then blurted, “Parachute. But, it’s no big deal, I’m sure—“

On her feet, Quinlan’s eyes bulged like a toad. “Parachute?” It was not news that her earthly fear of heights had not been eradicated. And fear of heights walked hand-in-hand with free-falling from a parachute.

Meghan opened and closed her mouth like a fish and shifted her eyes back to the duffle bag.

“Oh-h-h-h. No-o-o-o-o.” Quinlan’s chin trembled. “That’s…a parachute?” Cold, flat-ass fear crept up Quinlan’s neck and tightened around her throat.

Meghan pinched her bottom lip together with her fingers. “Looks like it.”

Her legs no longer able to support her, Quinlan sat before she fell. All the air suddenly vacuumed from her lungs. “I can’t breathe.” Quinlan grasped her throat with clammy hands.

Meghan, bolting to the kitchen, returned with a brown paper bag and held it over Quinlan’s face. “Take it easy. Slow breaths.”