The Key West Anthology (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Quinn

“Quinn,” my mother’s voice filtered through the darkness. “Please, Quinn, help me.” Deep coughing came, followed by a loud crash. My mother’s cries grew louder.

I jumped from bed, prepared to find her sprawled out on the living room floor. I was beyond the point of compassion. I no longer had it in me to pick her up.

She was hunched over the coffee table, on which a bottle of vodka was tipped sideways, spilling on to the floor. The lamp that had been on the table was now broken in half on the floor.

“God damn it, Mom.” I helped her up and guided her back to the couch. “I can’t keep doing this with you. When are you going to stop acting like some damn brainless fool? When the hell are you going to give me a chance to live my life? Huh? When?” I grabbed the bottle off the table and walked toward the kitchen sink. I tipped it up, dumping the remaining clear liquid down the drain.

I turned back to her, taking in her shocked expression. “I am so tired of picking your drunk ass up. I’m tired of being the parent. I am not your fucking keeper. I am not here to fix your mistakes. It’s time to get some damn help before you wake up one day to find yourself alone. I’m at my breaking point, Mom, I can’t do this anymore.”

I walked back to my room, leaving her stunned and motionless on the couch. I had hit the end of the line. I was no longer sitting back while she drank herself to death. I couldn’t take it.

It had been so long since I had a good cry, but tonight it was a must. I hadn’t heard from Jett, my mother had pushed me over the edge, and I could no longer be strong.

***

When I woke up I smelled bacon. I rolled my eyes at her sorry-ass attempt to smooth things over. I couldn’t do this. I marched out of my room with the intention of once again telling her my true feelings, only to freeze when I rounded the corner.

My father stood at the stove, piling food onto a heaping plate. He turned around, looking back over his shoulder and smiled. “Morning, thought I would surprise you. Never got the chance to make you breakfast when you were younger, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“No one ever made me breakfast when I was younger,” I grumbled as I took a seat at the bar. “Kellogg’s or Quaker Oats are the only chefs I ever had. Most of the time without milk because I had to decide between the two. Mom had her whiskey, though, and that was all that mattered.”

I hung my head in shame when I saw his smile falter. It wasn’t fair to take my frustration out on him, I knew that. “Sorry,” I said. “It smells really great.”

He sat down next to me, and we quietly ate side by side. Silence spread throughout the house. He was trying. I had to give him credit for that. He didn’t have to come and find me. He could have chosen to avoid the daughter he had but never knew. Instead, he sought me out, showing up out of nowhere. He had stuck around, making it known he wanted to know me, which right now, I’d admit, felt nice.

“Listen, Quinn, I know life hasn’t been fair to you. You never asked to have two screwed-up parents. It took days for me to work up the courage to come here that first day. Hell, I followed you looking for the right opportunity, only to cower away time after time.”

I’d been right to feel like I was being followed. It was him, waiting for the chance to introduce himself to his own daughter.

He paused for just a moment, placing his fork down on his plate. “Your mom called me this morning. She’s ready to get help. She said she has already called a place, and they have a spot for her. I’m not sure where the change of heart came from, but she’s in her room packing. She wants help, and I want to give that to her. I owe it to her, I owe it to you.”

I was still dumbfounded by the fact my blowup actually made a difference. I had been trying for years to make her listen to me, but it took me being a full-blown bitch to get through to her.

“She’s going to a facility in Naples. She’s ready, Quinn,” he assured me. He placed his hand on my forearm and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

“I can’t pay for that. I don’t make enough. We barely get by now.” The realization that she wanted help yet I could not give it to her made me feel sick.

“I got it, don’t worry about the cost. Let’s just get her what she needs.” I stared blankly at the man I barely knew, the man who was my father, a fact I was still trying to wrap my head around.

“Thank you,” I whispered, because that was all the strength I had to do. A huge relief washed over me, a calmness that maybe, just maybe, my mother could be whole again.

I stepped into my mother’s room and approached her as she folded clothes and placed them into a suitcase. As I sat down onto the bed beside her, my throat constricted from the urge to cry.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said, my voice vibrating, cracking under the intense pain of my aching heart. “I’m so sorry for the way I talked to you earlier.”

She looked down at me, tears filling her eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Quinny,” she insisted. “Sweetheart, I’m the one that has messed up. More times than I can count. I’ve done you wrong, it’s time for me to get help. Hell, Quinn, I should have gotten help years ago, but I was too damn stubborn. Your entire life, you’ve raised me. You never had the chance to be a kid. I have taken things away from you that I can never give you back.” She reached out and took my face in her hands. “I will get better, baby. I can’t be responsible any longer for the pain behind your eyes. I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forgive me for what I have become, for all the pain I’ve caused you. But I hope this is a good start to a long road of healing.”

I stood up, wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her close. In time we would heal, she was right. It wouldn’t be easy, and I was sure we would still have a lot of heartache before us, but I knew I wanted to forgive her. I wanted my mother, the one she had robbed me of my entire life.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jett

I had barely slept, and my mood from yesterday had nothing on the mood I was in today. Spending over six hours sifting through a shit ton of documents and blueprints was tedious. I’d hired a crew to do this shit so I didn’t have to. I hadn’t counted on finding water damage throughout the entire area I’d designated as my kitchen in Jett’s second location.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the contractor I’d hired flipped his lid. The smug bastard thought he could tell me the way it was gonna be. Looking at me, he got the impression he was dealing with an inexperienced kid he could walk all over. I let his cocky ass run at the mouth for a good twenty minutes before laying it out straight as a fucking board.

Easton snickering at my side didn’t help any, and the man walked out, grumbling something about rich kids and Daddy’s money. If he only knew how hard I worked my ass off for what I had. I wasn’t about to let anyone tell me how to spend even a penny of it.

Now here I was back to square one. I had to find a new contractor, get everything moving, and attempt to get back on track with my deadline.

As I pulled into Palm Beach and Jett’s came into view, I felt the first small amount of calmness in the last twenty-four hours. I hadn’t talked to Quinn since yesterday when I left. I got so busy with all the shit in Miami that by the time I realized it, it was well after midnight. I was beat and passed out the moment my head hit the pillow.

I made a quick stop at my office to check my voice mail before walking toward the dining area. Callie smiled as I entered but immediately noticed the grumpy look I was sure I was still sporting. She turned back to her customers, avoiding my stare. It was a good choice; I wasn’t in the mood.

I scanned the dining area and found a familiar guest waving from the corner table, smiling brightly. I took in a deep breath. I wanted nothing more than to just ignore Mrs. Henderson and go about my business. The problem with that was her husband was one of the men supporting my newest location. I forced a smile and moved in her direction.

She stood from the table and gave me a quick hug. “Well hello, handsome. How are you doing?”

“I’m good, thank you, and you?” I asked in return.

A small flicker of light reflected off her necklace, catching my eye. The second my gaze dropped, my stomach plummeted as well. She was talking, I assume answering the question I had asked, yet I heard nothing.

“That’s a very beautiful necklace, really unique.” I cut her off without a second thought. “Almost like someone had it specially designed.” I did everything I could to tame the anger that was boiling within me.

“Thank you,” she replied, reaching up to wrap her hand around the pendant. “Can you believe I found this at a pawn shop?” She shook her head. “I was waiting for my son who was selling off some of his old junk. I was looking around and inside a small glass case sat this beauty.” She grazed her thumb over the brown diamond in the middle. “I couldn’t believe anyone would part with such a beautiful piece. There was no way I could pass it up.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” I could feel the heat rising in my neck and an overpowering surge of frustration. “I actually bought one for my girlfriend that looked just like that. I was told there was no other like it, each one designed to be unique.” I paused and looked up, and her gaze locked on mine.

“Do you mind if I ask you to look on the back? Tell me if there is an inscription on it,” I asked, the heat boiling inside me now reaching my ears. I watched as Mrs. Henderson turned the pendant over and the engraving I had chosen stared back at me.

J & Q
surrounded by a heart.

“Oh honey,” she whispered. She looked at me with such pity. “Here,” she said as she started to remove the necklace.

I instantly raised my hand to stop her. “No, you keep it. At least I know you appreciate its uniqueness.” Without allowing her to answer, I turned my back and walked to my office.

I usually refrained from drinking while I was open for business, but today was an exception to that rule. I poured myself a shot and downed it quickly before pouring a second. Holding the bottle of whiskey in one hand and my glass in the other, I walked toward the couch.

For the next hour I watched as everyone moved throughout the dining area. Each time Quinn came into view my chest ached. I was hurt and angry. Alcohol probably wasn’t the best solution to that equation, but at this point I no longer cared.

A soft knock came on the door, almost light enough to go unnoticed. “Jett?” a feminine voice filtered in through the darkness. “Are you in here?” I rested my head against the back of the couch and closed my eyes tight.

I heard the door click as it opened, yet I didn’t look up. “Hey, um,” Callie sounded as if she was unsure how to approach me. “Listen, Mrs. Henderson wanted me to give you this. She insisted.” Callie stepped up to the back of the couch, holding out her hand.

Dangling from her finger was the necklace I had given Quinn, the same weekend I had told her I was in love with her. I closed my eyes once again. “I don’t want it, Cal.” The words burned my throat. I was already well on my way to being hammered. At this point I didn’t give a shit if she threw the fucking thing in the garbage.

“Well, I’m gonna hold on to it for you. I have a feeling you’ll change your mind when you sober up,” she said as she turned to walk away.

“You’re one of the very few girls I can trust. Hell, you’re the only girl who knows just how to read me and my moods. Sometimes I think it would be easier if you and I just said hell with it and gave it a shot. What do ya say, Callie, wanna be my girl? Keep my ass in line in and out of the bedroom.” I wagged my eyebrows, smiling up at her shocked expression. Even drunk I enjoyed getting her all flustered.

“Ew, Jett, that’s just wrong. You’re like my brother.” She crinkled her nose up in disgust.

“Don’t look so mortified, Callie, damn. Way to kick a man when he’s already down.” She was right, though, she was like a sister to me. Nothing good could or ever would come of my drunken ramblings.

Chapter Thirty

Quinn

I had to have heard him wrong. Was Jett honestly propositioning Callie? The girl he told me was only ever a friend.

My heart sank as I stepped up to his office and his words filtered out through the partially opened door. I was just about to turn away when it flew open and Callie looked back at me in surprise.

“Oh, hi.” She looked startled. “He, uh…” She looked back over her shoulder. “He’s slightly drunk and, um, I’m not sure going in there is the best idea.”

“Oh, I only need a minute,” I stated as I pushed past her, the adrenaline taking over as I looked her in the eyes. It only pissed me off more that she thought I needed her permission to talk to him.

“Well, look who it is,” Jett slurred. “Miss Ungrateful herself.”

I was surprised and hurt by the coldness in his voice. “Excuse me?”

He pushed up off the couch and stumbled a few steps to the side. Bracing himself on the arm, he took a few seconds to get centered. Slowly he straightened, and his stare bored into me. “You heard me. If you didn’t want the damn thing, all you had to do was tell me. Instead you sell it for what, Quinn?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. “Sell what?”

He laughed, a cold, heartless laugh, one I had never heard from him before. He stumbled again, and I reached out to stabilize him. The moment my hand touched his arm he pulled it back, as if my touch was the last thing he wanted.

Jett stood before me, glaring at me. Inside I was falling apart, yet I held his stare. “The fucking necklace, Quinn.” His words came out almost in a growl, a deep, anger-filled growl that made my heart race.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I do know that I just walked up on a conversation I probably wasn’t meant to hear, though. A conversation where my boyfriend, the man I thought would never hurt me, was hitting on his assistant.”

From behind me, Callie gasped. “Quinn, it’s not what you think.”

I didn’t even turn around to face her. I focused all my anger on the drunken asshole in front of me. “Let me save you the time and end this, Jett. I hope you and Callie are happy together.”

He grumbled some words that were indistinguishable. I no longer cared what he had to say. I turned to face a very shocked Callie. From what I had heard she did nothing wrong, well besides trying to keep me from seeing Jett. But I felt no reason to spare anyone’s feelings. “He’s all yours,” I told her.

I pushed past her in a hurry to get away. The last thing I wanted to do was break down in front of either of them.

“Quinn, wait.” She stopped me just before I exited the restaurant. I kept my back to her, but her next words had my mind racing. “You broke his heart by pawning the necklace. I guess finding it on one of his frequent customers put him over the edge.”

My stomach dropped, and all the blood drained from my face.
My necklace.
The symbol of how he felt, the first gift I’d ever gotten from any man.

I pushed through the door and rushed for my car. She had to be wrong. I’d never pawned my necklace. It was safely tucked away in the dresser, beneath Jett’s T-shirt that I slept in every night I was away from him.

The only thought racing through my mind was getting home and finding that necklace.

***

The house felt empty now. My dad left this morning to take my mother to the rehabilitation center in Naples. I had hoped that being able to spend the evening in Jett’s arms would help soothe the ache her absence caused. I’d grown accustomed to the drunken state my mother lived in. I’d been taking care of her for so long that now I felt like there was something I was forgetting to do.

I rushed through the darkness of the hallway and into my bedroom. Sifting through my drawer, I found the velvet case that held my necklace. As I flipped up the lid, my heart sank. It was gone; the box was empty.

There had to be a mistake. It must have fallen out. I dropped the box and began rummaging through the clothes in search of the necklace. Tears flowed down my cheeks when the realization that it was gone sank in.

I sat back on my bed and wiped the wetness from my cheeks as I allowed myself to accept what my heart had been screaming from the moment I realized it was gone. The only person other than myself who knew where my necklace was—
my mother.
Knowing she had taken something that had meant so much to me, only to pawn it to feed her addiction, broke the last sliver of hope I had.

For the first time in my life, I broke. I let every painful memory and disappointment that was my life take over. I curled up on my bed and gave into the emptiness inside of me. It was my turn to fall apart. My turn to feel without worrying if my mother needed me.

This is for me. For the first time in so long, it’s all for me.