Until Next Time (32 page)

“I did what I had to.”

The soft touch lifted as Grandpa shuffled around the chair and sat next to him. “I just got off the phone with the foundation. Do you know how many new requests we’ve have for funds this past week? How many donors have stepped forward?”

Quinn only shook his head.

“Over fifty percent more.” His voice was proud. “Piper did that, Macy. She helped us change and grow like we needed…like everyone needs to.”

Piper had changed too, Quinn thought. So why couldn’t he? He glanced up, wondering if Maddie looked down on him. Wondering if she knew how hard he was fighting to keep his promise.

“I need to go,” Quinn bit out, grief overwhelming him.

“Wait.” Grandpa’s hand shot to his arm. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t have the answers to your problems, Macy, because I got to love my wife for practically a lifetime. But there are some people you know who might be able to help you through this.”

Quinn snorted. “Who?”

“The very people you counsel down at the VA hospital. The ones who’ve lost loved ones.”

“That’s different.”

“No.” Grandpa’s voice was soft, but firm. “There are people down there who’ve lost people like you lost Maddie. You love Piper, Macy, and you know you won’t be able to live with yourself for letting her go like that.”

He shook his head, completely defeated. Feeling totally deflated. “I can’t give her what she wants.”

“Maybe you can. Maybe you need to find out if that’s okay. Go, Macy.”

Quinn hauled himself off the couch, patting Grandpa’s shoulder on the way. “I’ll do it, for you, but I’m not promising anything.”

“That’s all this ol’ man can ask for.”

<<<<>>>>>

Quinn strode through front doors of the VA hospital, making his way past the front desk, saying his polite hellos as he passed coworkers and veterans through the corridors. He’d talked to several surviving spouses during his time at the hospital. Unlike when he’d lost Maddie, most of them had to deal with the sudden death of their loved one. Quinn had seen Maddie’s death coming. But that hadn’t dulled the pain. He often imagined that losing someone so abruptly, so unexpected, that the trauma and pain would slice deeper and be harder to get over.

But as he allowed memories about his conversations with surviving spouses to flood through his mind, he found a disturbing pattern. Each spouse—male or female—had been remarkably strong. They’d been devastated, their lives torn upside down in the beginning, but they’d climbed from the pit of their sorrow and faced life head-on. Some of them had children to support. Families to look after. Jobs to keep.

They’d grieved like anyone else, some harder than others, but in the end, he remembered they’d pulled it together in their time of need. Just like Quinn had never truly done.

He stopped short in the hallway. Why hadn’t he done that?

Because I promised Maddie.

His heart thundered, in torturous pain from losing both Maddie and Piper. He forced his feet forward, coming to a halt in front of the west wing lounge. As he expected, Sarah Daily-Oliver, his brother’s loving wife, sat perched in a rocker chair in the corner, talking happily to several injured veterans in wheelchairs around her.

The sun glinted through the south facing window, lighting up the yellow walls and bringing a glimmer to her face. At only twenty-five, she looked more mature than years could explain, yet like a child telling her favorite story to her friends.

The first time he’d met Sarah, she hadn’t looked nearly as composed or happy. She’d just lost her husband of one year from a wound infection. The doctors had thought he’d be fine. Tragedy had struck, however, dealing Sarah with a terrible blow. She’d been an utter mess, not able to eat or sleep or barely even walk. They had set her up with a room right here in the hospital because the staff were afraid she couldn’t care for herself. Her family had abandoned her, and her husband’s family was too busy dealing with their own grief. It had been the most extreme of situations.

Quinn had comforted her, helped her during her time of need. And little by little, day by day, Sarah had grown stronger. Once the initial grief passed, Sarah had quickly become a woman on a mission: a mission to help those like her. Ever since the day she’d hugged Quinn, thanking him for all his help, she’d been working right here, where her husband died, where her life had fallen apart, and where somehow she’d managed to put it back together.

With quick steps Quinn moved to her side, giving her the best smile he could muster. “Hello, Sarah.”

Sarah’s blue eyes locked with his, and her faced instantly stretched with concern. She looked at the men surrounding her. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” In a blink she was out of the rocker and holding onto to his elbow. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she led him through the north facing double doors onto the patio.

The evening air was crisp and felt good drawn into his lungs.

“I lost Piper.”

Those blue eyes went wide. “Is she hurt? Is she…?”

“Oh, no, no, nothing like that. I lost her because I let her go. Because I couldn’t give her what she wanted.”

Quinn had briefly talked to Sarah about Piper, but KC had probably told her much more.

“Listen, I’m sorry to come here like this, Sarah, and I’m not normally one to ask for help, but I don’t know what to do…and I thought maybe you could help.”

She patted his cheek and smiled warmly, exactly like a mother would do. She sat down on a concrete bench surrounded by daisies.

Quinn suddenly had the urge to smell Piper’s wonderful floral scent. Hear her voice. He wouldn’t be able to live long without her by his side, in his arms, in his bed. It had only been an hour or two and Quinn already felt like he was dying on the inside.

“So what makes you think you lost the woman of your dreams?” Sarah asked, her eyes inquisitive.

“Because I wouldn’t marry her, and that’s what she needed.”

Sarah nodded, an understanding smile tugging at her lips.

“How did you do it?” Quinn stepped forward, hands out to his side. “How did you manage to marry again after your husband died?”

Her eyes flittered to blue sky. “I promised him I would love him forever, you know. That he would be the only one who could ever make me happy. That I would cherish our days and nights, and no one would ever take his place. Not even if the Lord took him away from me.”

“But you married KC.”

She shook her head and rose, taking Quinn’s hand in hers. “It’s funny, my first husband and I had that conversation right before he went on duty again. A month later he was back here, and a month after that, he was gone. Do you know what he told me when we had that conversation, Quinn?”

“No.”

“He told me I was nuts.” She chuckled lightly. “That if he died in a day, a year or even ten years, I was not to mourn him forever. He told me
my
happiness was too important to him. That he didn’t want me going through life with the pain of losing him. He told me to live, no matter what happened to him.”

Quinn’s gut churned.

“At the time, I didn’t think anything of it, you know. I figured he was being sweet like all husbands should be…making sure their wives are happy. I love him.” She blinked, allowed a sparkle of a tear to show at the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this, Sarah.”

“No, Quinn, we do.” She touched his cheek once more and sat back down, crossing her legs and staring at him expectantly. “Your brother and I talk a lot about you.”

His brows drew together. “Good to know.”

“Not anything personal. He figured that one day you’d want to know more about Josh and how I came to decide to marry KC. He’s been worried about you.”

“He doesn’t need to worry.”

“All brothers worry.” She smiled carefully. “We knew that one day you’d ask about him and me. I suffered badly when I first lost Josh because it was so sudden and unexpected. Well, you saw me.” She ran her fingers through her long black hair. “It wasn’t until after the sting of the initial pain that I remembered what Josh had said those months before he died. While I loved him with all my heart and soul, he’d want me to be happy. He wouldn’t want to see me suffer. While there’s no magic potion or anything, I can tell you this, love is endless, Quinn. You have room in your heart for more than Maddie.”

“That’s not what I told Maddie.”

“Doesn’t matter. Don’t you think she’d want you to be happy and not sulking for the rest of your life?”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. What mattered was how she felt.”

“It
does
matter.” She rose, pointing to sky. “Think of her, up in heaven, looking down on you. How do you think she feels? Do you think she’s happy knowing she’s the reason you aren’t happy right now? That she’s the reason you’re suffering?”

Quinn stepped backed, the realization slamming into him. Was that what Maddie saw? He blinked, giving himself a good once-over.
Yes,
he thought in disgust,
that’s exactly what she saw.
And how did that make her feel? It surely didn’t make her happy, and Quinn had always promised to keep Maddie happy—no matter on earth or in heaven.

“She couldn’t speak when you made her this promise, could she?”

Quinn’s head snapped up. “How did you know that?”

“KC told me. And besides, any loving spouse would tell their other half they were crazy if they promised that…like mine told me.” Her grin was quick, her expression full of hope. “Wouldn’t you agree, Quinn?”

His head dropped forward, his thoughts suddenly clearing. Maddie would want him to be happy. And even though he’d promised her never to commit to another like he’d committed to her, he somehow knew that Maddie was frowning down on him. His gaze flicked up to the fluffy clouds. They bubbled and swayed slowly in the high wind, allowing slices of light to spear through. A warmth stroked over his face, and a calming feeling settled in his chest. The tight constriction he’d felt since leaving Piper eased away, his heart finally beating a steady rhythm. First the first time in weeks, he smiled.

He mouthed the words
I love you
to the sky, knowing she was watching, knowing she was smiling in return. Turning, he gave Sarah a quick hug. “Thank you. My brother is lucky to have you.”

She hugged him tightly. “I was the lucky one…like you are to have found Piper. Let her make you happy, Quinn. Let her help you heal.”

“I will.”

Now he had to figure out how.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Piper sat curled on her couch, staring aimlessly out the window while shoving piece after piece of chocolate covered with peanut butter into her mouth. Her eyes would dart to the stem that still sat nestled in with her plant. She hadn’t had the heart to throw it away. Quinn had told her the story about being thankful for her thorns so that she could truly cherish the blossom. And while she was in agony right now, one day she might actually remember that conversation and smile.

One day.

Not anytime soon, though. She’d broken all her rules, allowed herself to care, only to have her dreams shattered in front of her. But she didn’t blame Quinn. While she desperately wished she could change his mind, she knew how he felt. How hard convictions were to get past. How hard it was to change yourself.

She’d done it. Not all by herself, but Piper had changed. And while the sting of the pain from her loss would cripple her for a while, it wouldn’t break her this time. Quinn had taught her she was stronger than that. That she deserved to live. And one day, eventually, she would.

But now, without the warmth of Quinn in her arms, she would
live
with the other people in her life. Her employees, her customers, and anyone else who walked through her door. She would allow them to see the real her, allow them to know the real her. There would be no more hiding. There would be no more sacrificing her happiness for the sake of protecting her heart, her feelings, anything…ever again.

Love was selfish. But it was that selfishness that had allowed Piper to
feel.
To live. And she wasn’t letting that go.

She sighed heavily, plopping several more pieces of chocolate and peanut butter into her mouth. Much more of this and she might not be able to even get off the couch. But her heart needed time to mend. Not heal—it would never heal, and she suddenly realized that that was okay. That was life. This was what people did. She didn’t have to be happy about it, but it didn’t have to kill her either.

Sweet peas, it felt like that sometimes, though. A place, a sound, or something as small as a scent would make her mind flick back to memory of her and Quinn. Those were the moments she would buckle to the ground, barely able to draw in that next breath.

A sharp rap on her door made her jump up, tossing chocolate pieces all over the couch. Grumbling, she pushed her hair out of her face and stomped over.

“Piper?” Margo’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Standing straight as she could muster, Piper put on a smile and opened it. “Yes?”

Margo’s face was serious. “I know you didn’t want to be bothered today, but something’s come up…”

Piper’s blood ran cold. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Quinn.”

She gripped the doorframe, barely able to hold up her own weight. He hadn’t called her cell, no one in his family had called her cell…which meant there was only one reason his name would roll off of Margo’s lips in her line of work.

“Is he…?” Sweet mother, she couldn’t even say it. Her eyes squeezed shut, her heart hammering, preparing for the worst. How did she think she could live without him? Either in his arms or in his heart?

Margo’s hand reached out, clasping around Piper’s upper arm. “Oh, God, no. I didn’t mean to imply…” She shook her head. “Quinn’s fine. Just fine.” A frown tugged at her brow. “My face was too serious, wasn’t it? I knew it wouldn’t work unless my face was really serious. You know how I get giddy sometimes.”

Piper’s heart was still thundering beneath her ribs. “Margo, what, in the name of chocolate, is going on? You scared me half to death, you know.”

She tugged Piper out the door. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to.” Margo’s grip remained tight around her arm as she pulled her toward the stairs. “I’m not good at this. I told them I wasn’t good at this.”

Piper locked up her knees and refused to be dragged one more step. “Margo! Stop this instant.” She smacked at Margo’s hand around her wrist. “Where are you taking me? Would you let go? Margo!”

Margo’s laugh was loud and mischievous. “Sorry, hun, I’d thought you come easier than this.” She loosened her grip and gave Piper the saddest face ever. Full lip pucker and puppy dog eyes.

“What did you do? Did you overload the embalming machine again? Put someone in the fridge and accidently reset the temperature?” Her hand flew to her head. “I really don’t need this right now.”

Margo eased away, her face holding a bit of expectation. “Trust me, Piper? Please?”

“I was in the middle of something, you know.”

Margo leaned around Piper, eyeing the mess of chocolate wrappers and peanut butter jars in her living room. “Yeah,” she grunted. “I can see that. You’re not doing anything else, and I promise I haven’t broken anything and no one’s dead. This will make you happy. I promise.”

Piper rolled her eyes. There was no chance of that, but since she’d decided to turn over a new leaf and live, Piper couldn’t say no. “Fine.”

Margo squealed and tugged Piper down the stairs.

“Wait! The door! My shoes!”

Margo continued to laugh as Piper turned and collected her things, locking her door behind her.

“I hope this is worth all this trouble, Margo,” she mumbled as she followed Margo out the front door of the funeral home. Margo only smirked.

<<<<>>>>>

Piper was silently fuming the passenger’s side seat of Margo’s car. They’d been driving for what felt like an hour. Knowing Margo, they’d driven around in circles to throw Piper off balance.

“Is there a reason I’m blindfolded?” Piper asked, grumbling. She had fought like crazy to not have her eyes covered. But Margo was good at begging until she got her way. They’d better be going to Disney World or something. Something amazing.

“Because then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Margo huffed.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“I don’t think it’s the surprise part you don’t like,” Margo commented. “I think it’s the fact that, for the briefest moment, you have to give up knowing what’s going on.”

Piper said nothing, knowing that Margo was right.

“How are you doing?”

“Right now I’m slightly annoyed,” Piper said. “This blindfold is itchy. My stomach hurts a little—”

“I meant, how are you
really
doing, Piper?”

She flopped her head back on the headrest. “Fine. I’ve been better, obviously.”

“I promise this day will get better.”

A promise like that would be hard to keep, but Piper took a deep breath, hoping. “Margo, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“I think it’s time I make some changes to Downing and Sons.”

“Hmm…am I going to need to start looking for a job?”

Piper chuckled. “No, no, nothing like that. It’s just, I’ve spent so much of my time making sure the business was successful and strong after my parents passed away. It’s all I’ve known my whole life.”

“And you’ve done a wonderful job.”

Piper smiled. She had done a wonderful job. Almost too good of job. Thanks to Quinn, Piper now understood the need to live. And while she loved her work, she needed time for herself. It would take some time for her to get over the pain of losing Quinn, but once she did, she would need to move on…and up. And she would need some help. To live.

“Downing and Sons has operated with only three full times staff members for years. I think it’s time for us to change direction.” She twisted in her seat, probably looking a fool for trying to
look
at Margo with a blindfold on. “You love what you do as much as I do. You’ll graduate soon and will be looking for work. And I think I need a partner. Would you like to job?”

The car lurched to a stop. Piper almost choked on her seat belt.

“Are you serious?” Margo asked.

“I would like to look at you when I answer that question, Margo.”

“Wait, is this a ruse to get to take the blindfold off? It won’t work.”

“While taking off this terrible contraption would be nice, no, this isn’t a joke. I mean it.” Piper reached out, flapping her hand around until she found Margo’s arm. “You and I work well together. You’re a wonderful employee and would make an excellent co-funeral director. Together we can maintain lives outside of work and hire some new employees. What do you think?”

Piper was jerked forward into a bear hug. “I guess this means yes?” Margo was holding her so tight, she could barely spit the words out.

“Yes! Yes! Oh, my God, Piper. Thank you!”

Thankfully, Margo’s death grip subsided, and Piper slid back into her seat. “Are you crying?”

The car rocked back into motion. “Maybe,” Margo said. “This is wonderful news. And just what you need, I think. To help you, you know.”

With her heartbreak bubbling back to the surface, Piper sighed. “With Quinn gone, I have a lot to think about. It will be hard, but this extra time will help me heal and to grow even more. It’ll all work out. I’ve learned that.”

“You’re stronger than you realize Piper.”

Piper gave a hint of smile. She wasn’t so sure about that, but she was going to try. With Margo on board to help take over some funeral home duties, she would take some time for herself to live. Just what Quinn would’ve wanted.

“We’re here.” Margo’s voice rang out. Piper went to snatch the blindfold off her head. Margo’s hand stopped her. “Not yet. I’m getting out of the car. Count to one hundred and take it off.”

Piper pursed her lips. “This better not be some sick joke to get me to snap out of my rut, Margo. I’m working on it in my own way.”

Margo chuckled. “It’s not. You’ll love it, I promise. And again, thank you for the partnership. It’s a dream come true.”

“I hope I love it. And you’re welcome.” Piper imagined she would open her eyes and find herself in the middle of a football or something. Margo was a good employee and becoming even a better friend, but she had a strange sense of humor.

“All the way to one hundred,” Margo called out as the door slammed behind her.

Piper crossed her arms and counted. When she got to fifty, the suspense was killing her. Finally unable to stand it, she ripped off the mask and gasped. She was at the airfield. The same one Quinn had taken her to before.

Her hand flew to the steering wheel, as thought she was going to steer the car right out of the place. Then she realized she was on the wrong side of the car. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, going over the hangars, the black tarmac, wondering what on earth she was doing here of all places. There wasn’t anything fun or cheerful here. Definitely nothing to make her feel better. Only scary things…and memories she didn’t want to think about.

Clutching her churning stomach, her eyes landed on a bouquet of thorny stems perched on the hood and a set of really large headphone-looking things next to it. She took a deep breath, willing her nerves to settle and got out. The summer heat slammed into her, licking over her skin and making it hard to breathe.

No, it isn’t the heat. It’s the location. The memory.

She clenched her eyes, trying her best to not hear Quinn’s voice telling her everything would be okay. Telling her to trust him. To just let them
be.
God, how she wished they could
be
now. She twirled around, looking for a sign of Margo or anyone else. Nothing. There wasn’t a soul stirring this late afternoon. It was only her and the blazing sun. And those gleaming stems and headphones. She stepped toward the front of the car, running her hands over the thorns. Plucking a card from the bouquet, she read the words.

Put on and listen.

She glanced around again, wondering if she was being tricked or something, not understanding anything. Hesitantly she did as instructed and slipped the monster headphones over her ears.

Instantly she heard crackle and fuzz. And then she heard Quinn.

“
Dauntless
to Tower,” Quinn’s voice instantly soothed her.

The headset crackled briefly. An unfamiliar voice responded, “Tower. Go ahead.”

“Requesting fly-by.”

“Affirmative.”

The line went quiet. Piper’s breath caught in her throat as she squinted and searched the horizon for Quinn’s plane. He was flying across the sky somewhere. As she finished that thought, Quinn’s plane crested the trees to her right, swooping low and a little too close for comfort. But Piper didn’t care so much about that at that moment. Had Margo brought Piper here to face the truth? No, there wasn’t any sense in that. Quinn had made it clear there wasn’t anything Piper could do. Which could only mean that Quinn had something to do with why she was standing on the heating blacktop, staring at a soaring plane carrying the man she desperately loved. The man she couldn’t have. She had beaten her demons, but he hadn’t beaten his, which again, she couldn’t blame him for.

But why would he bring her here and make her suffer at the sight of him?

The plane whizzed by dangerously close, making Piper jumped back against the car as the sound and rush of air that slammed against her. Quinn’s plane cruised around the tower and tilted up, darting higher into the sky.