Until Next Time (4 page)

“Why? I don’t like saying a blessing for my problems, either.” That was the dumbest thing Piper had ever heard.

Quinn cocked his head, and his eyes went soft. “What do you think brought them together?”

“Themselves. Their liking of each other. Isn’t that how all people get together? They share an attraction?”

His eyes closed. “Not exactly. People share an attraction, yes. But you see, my grandmother would have never had met my grandpa had it not been for a fire that destroyed her home.”

“Was your grandpa a firefighter?”

“No. He was merely a young man, in the right place at the wrong time. He’d just joined the Air Force and was walking home from celebrating with his friends. He’d been originally accused of setting fire to the house that night, after passing out on her back stoop.”

Piper’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my goodness.”

“But it all worked out, you see. Bad things happen, but buried deep in those bad things, good things arise, showing the true colors of what is supposed to happen. You have to fight for what you want. Their struggles were a part of that. And without those hard and dark times, they wouldn’t have found each other.”

“That sounds like a Hallmark card.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I guess it sort of does. Believe it or not, Piper, sometimes life is as simple—as happy—as one of those cards.”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “That’s a nice thought, but I’m not sure I believe that.”

“Okay, we’ll agree to disagree on that point for now. The point is they wouldn’t have been blessed if not for the thorns. You have to earn the things you’re given in this life. The thorns are what you have to overcome to get to the roses. So Grandma taught him to be thankful for the thorns, too. She made him see that the struggles—how they met, the lost lives of their babies—were only more thorns. And after those thorns, there would be something worth having fought for.”

Piper’s throat constricted. “That was beautiful.”

“They’ve given each other thorns every year on their anniversary. To remember to appreciate the good and the hard times. Because without one, you can’t have the other.”

When had she gotten so close to him she could feel his breath on her face? See the little specks of gold floating in his eyes? Smell the devastating scent of his aftershave? Piper jerked back in her seat.

Her reaction seemed to amuse him, as another trickle of laughter escaped his kissable lips.

Piper jumped to her feet. Quinn followed.

“The service will be starting soon,” she mumbled as she smoothed out her jacket and nodded at Quinn. My, he was tall. And lean, looking slim yet fit in his well-fitting gray suit. And from the story she’d heard, no matter how much she didn’t believe it, she’d bet her life’s fortune that he was as sweet as his grandparents. Caring. Loving.

“I’ll let you get back to your…ah…” Piper looked around, hoping for a random family member of Quinn’s to save her. “Waiting for the service to start, I guess. Thank you for telling me that story, Quinn.” She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “It was lovely.”

The heart-melting smile that crossed his expression was enough to make her swoon. And she wasn’t quite the swooning type. She was far more grounded than that. Far more.

“Will you be attending the service?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It’s private. For the family. Once everyone is here, the doors will close.” There was no way she’d be able to handle sermon after sermon about death. Listening to the crying and the sad music, over and over. It was already hard enough the block out the emotions with what she did do at the funeral home. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, though. If
anyone
needs me, that is.”

A single brow rose. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Piper said her polite goodbyes to Quinn, stuffing down the familiar heat that had crept up in her chest during their conversation, and positioned herself at the entryway of the funeral home. It was time for her to do her job: escorting the dead to their eternal homes and robotically comforting those left behind.

<<<<>>>>>

She was amazing. That was the only word Quinn could find on the tip of his tongue as he continued to cast glances Piper’s way while simultaneously greeting family members arriving for the service. He’d never met someone so grounded and yet so detached. And so…so very vulnerable. She hid herself—and her emotions—from people. Not many people would notice the way she used her words and body language to keep people at a distance, while at the same time offering them comfort in their time of need. But Quinn noticed. The way she shook hands without really looking people in the eye. The way she accepted hugs with a stiff, but friendly embrace and a warm, but not sincere smile. The way her eyes slightly glazed over as people spoke to her about their passed loved one. She was there in body only. What a tragic scene.

A smack on his shoulder drew his attention away from the picturesque Piper. His youngest brother, Del, stood at eye level with him.

“How are the memorial flight plans coming?” Del’s voice was smooth, much like his attitude.

“Fine.” Quinn’s gaze swung to his grandpa who was shaking hands and hugging people by the head of the casket. “Dad already worked the aerial plans over with the VA. We can add the simple maneuvers into the standard show we do.”

“They didn’t give Dad any trouble? I mean, Grandma wasn’t a veteran.”

Quinn shrugged. “Technically the show is hosted by the Air National Guard, and the VA portion is only a small part of the show. But since their flights are the ‘welcome home’ event for returning veterans, Dad wanted to make sure our addition would fit well with the program. And besides, most of the pilots know what it’s like to lose a loved one. They were happy to be able to give us the air time in order to give Grandpa a good show for his wife. Especially since Dad and Grandpa can’t fly anymore.”

Del grunted. “Yeah. Dad hasn’t stopped talking about it week. Driving me insane, he is.”

Quinn scanned the room, letting his stare settle on Piper for a few seconds longer than everyone else. “Did you ride with KC?”

“No, he rode with Dad and Ma. Something about Dad needing an extra set of arms for the stuff he’s bringing to the funeral. Sarah drove separately. I guess she’ll be driving him home.”

“Ah.” Quinn gave a knowing sigh. Marcus Oliver always had a way of giving one last hoorah for the recently departed. His own mother would be no different.

Del twisted around to look behind him. “What do you keep looking at? Oh…” He spun back around and grinned. “The girl from Grandpa’s house. She’s undoubtedly nice to look at.”

Quinn nodded, not giving Del the ammunition he was looking for. “We’ve got about ten minutes left. What do you say we make sure Dad has all his stuff ready and we take our seats?”

Del grinned, his green eyes lighting with amusement. “Sure thing.”

Two hours later, Quinn was exhausted. Not because he was sad, although he would have liked to see his grandmother’s smile once more in person. But there would be a time for that again someday. He truly didn’t believe they were permanently parting ways. Like his family had always taught him, it wasn’t
goodbye
, it was
until next time.

A weight lifted after the funeral, and yet he was still feeling somber. The new burden came because his mind kept swirling around the woman he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. The one who stole his breath and made him think about things he hadn’t thought about in a long time. The attraction to her had latched onto him alarmingly fast. The very thing he’d been waiting for was his to go after. The only problem was he had no idea how to really go after it. He’d been out of the game for a little too long.

He sighed as he slid into the front seat of his car, thankful to get out of the hot summer air. The funeral had been beautiful. The pastor—and his own father—had given wonderful speeches about life and death. The graveside service, with the rustling trees, hot bustling wind, and smell of roses, had been exactly what his grandmother would have wanted. He wished his grandmother could have been there to actually see it. He stripped his tie and undid the top few buttons of his dress shirt. Then he smiled. Grandma had been there. He’d felt it. And from the hope in his grandpa’s eyes during the service, Quinn knew that he’d felt it, too. It was as if she’d been at Grandpa’s side with her hand on his shoulder, comforting him through it. He could picture her now standing right next to Grandpa by her headstone, whispering in his ear, telling him they would be together again soon. Grandpa was smiling, his aged eyes lighting up in the high sun.

Grinning at the picture before him, Quinn put his car in drive. KC knocked on the side window with his knuckles.

Quinn cranked it down. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”

He gave a crooked smile. “Sorry. Dad wanted to make sure you’d be at his house later for dinner.”

“Yeah. I told Dad that earlier.” He frowned. It wasn’t like his father to have already forgotten.

KC tapped on the door frame. “Good, I’ll remind him then. See you later.”

Quinn eased away from the string of cars surrounding the graveyard. Twenty minutes and one stop later, he stood outside of the Downing & Sons Funeral Home. Inhaling a deep breath, he rapped on the door. He knew he didn’t have to knock. The sign said
Open. Please come inside
, but he wanted to seem official. He didn’t want to see Piper for business. Not this time.

The door swung open, and Quinn stumbled back.

“Hello, can I help you?” A lanky woman with black lipstick and rounded features leaned against the door.

“Uh, yes. Is Piper in?”

“Are you here for business? You didn’t have to knock.”

“I know. And I’m not here for business.” He wiggled the flowers he held in his hand.

The woman’s penciled-in eyebrows raised a fraction, and then a blinding white smile lit her painted, pale face. “Ah. Please, come in.” She waved him inside with slender fingers. “She’s in her office.”

Quinn took a careful step inside the door.

“I’m Margo Douglas, by the way. I’m an embalmer here.”

An undertaker who looked the part. Somehow, that wasn’t what Quinn had been expecting. Quinn knew his expression had to be perplexed. He was baffled at both the woman herself and the strange metal thing sticking out of her top lip.

“I don’t bite,” she said with a smile that was too bright for her dark makeup. “It’s the makeup, isn’t it?” She ruffled her ratted hair. “Don’t worry, I don’t normally dress like this. A friend’s throwing a party.” She took Quinn by the arm and led him a few more steps in the foyer. “It’s an amplification study, really,” she explained in a soothing voice that didn’t match her cold-colored eyes. “My boyfriend’s a psych major, and he decided to do his thesis on the perception of employment. The dinner party is where we’re getting together, discussing our jobs, and talking about the stereotypes.” Her hands spread out in display. “I work with the dead, hence the outfit and makeup.”

“Oh.
Oh.
” Quinn flashed a quick smile. “That makes sense.”

She winked at him. “Sorry if I frightened you. Piper would have a fit if she knew I answered the door like this. Jessica had to leave early, and I guess Piper’s caught up in her office. Stay here. I’ll see if I can catch her for you.”

As Margo was turning around, the sound of heels clicked on the hardwood to the right, drawing Quinn’s attention to it. To her. Piper was gripping the washed-out white door frame and readjusting a floppy strap on her heels. His shoved his hand holding the flowers behind his back.

“Jessica,” she called, without even acknowledging the two of them already standing in the open space. Fiddling with her shoes, she continued, “Mr. Ryan seems to be having a difficult time with the arrangements. He’s considering having his wife cremated, but I can tell it’s not because he wants an urn so as not to be parted from his beloved wife. The National Cemeteries in Wisconsin are currently closed, so he must put his wife in a private cemetery, which adds significantly to his cost. He cried when I told him how much it was. I don’t think he can afford the service on his pension, so I was thinking I’d—”

Margo cleared her throat. Piper’s head snapped up, her eyes locking on Quinn. She stopped meddling with her shoe and stood up straight.

“Oh.” Piper’s voice came out more like a peep. Even after the word, as short as it was, was fully out, her pink lips remained in the perfect
o
shape. Her hands fluttered around the buttons of her black suit jacket. “Mr. Oliver,” she said. “I apologize for my breach of Mr. Ryan’s privacy. I should be more careful when I start to discuss clients in the public rooms.”

Quinn tilted his head. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Piper’s gaze slid to Margo. Her hand flew to her mouth. Quinn wasn’t sure if it was because of him, the privacy breach, or the gothic embalmer. Piper’s eyes darted back and forth quickly.

“Jessica had to leave early,” Margo said. “I was filling in the last hour of her shift.” She glanced at a thick leather watch around her wrist. “But now that time is over. I’ll be going.”

Quinn could barely contain his laughter from the look on Piper’s face. Shock? Confusion? A little of both?