Days of You and Me (4 page)

“No.” Mark shook his head. “Why doesn’t Quinn go? I’ll give her a list.”

I was so pathetically grateful for the chance to get out of the house that I almost cried all over again. Mark met my eyes, and in his face I saw understanding and compassion. I wanted to hug him.

“Oh. Okay, sure.” Sheri managed a smile. “Want me to go with you?”

“No, that’s okay.” I jumped up. “You stay here and . . . relax.” A thought occurred to me. “What would you say if I invited my mom to come over to eat with us? I don’t want her to be alone today, and if you aren’t going to Lisa and Joe’s house, she might like coming here.”

“Of course. This is your home now, too.” With the anxiety of leaving her son’s well-being in my hands now a non-issue, Sheri was prepared to be magnanimous, apparently.

“Quinn, I’m texting you the list.” Mark handed me some folded bills. “And if there’s anything else you want, go ahead and get it.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back soon.” I blew Nate a kiss and headed for the front door before anyone could stop me. I was pretty sure I looked like hell—lack of sleep plus crying left me with puffy eyes, I was wearing absolutely no makeup, and my hair was up in a messy bun—but I didn’t give a crap. I was out of there.

The silence in my car was absolutely blissful. I drove slowly down the side roads of my hometown, smiling as I saw the red, white and blue bunting on some of the houses. Eatonboro had the best Fourth of July parade, and I’d missed it the last three years. It made me sad; the last time I’d sat curbside watching the floats, the antique cars and the endless local marching bands, it had been mere weeks after my father had died. I’d been with Leo and Nate that day, I recalled. Leo had carried two lawn chairs from my house to the edge of the parade route, five blocks away. After he’d set them up, Nate had taken one, and Leo and I shared the other, with me nestled between his muscled thighs. Leo’s arms had been wrapped around me as I’d leaned back against his chest, feeling safe and protected—and just so
right.

With a sigh, I forced myself to pay attention to where I was going. There was a grocery store only about five minutes from Nate’s house, and I was pretty sure I could get everything on Mark’s list there.

On the other hand, there was a bigger store about fifteen minutes away. Fifteen minutes in the car, a minimum of fifteen minutes in the store shopping, and another fifteen minutes driving back to the house meant at least forty-five glorious minutes on my own, in peace. I could justify the extra distance, because the larger superstore would also have lower prices. Armed with that excuse, I made the decision and turned toward the further away shop.

Once I’d cleared the main part of town, I cranked the radio up, rolled down the window and floored it, singing along at the top of my lungs. There was something beautifully cathartic about putting on my own show, alone, letting out all of my frustrations, regrets and anger.

Yes, I had to admit to myself, there was anger in me. I wasn’t sure who it was aimed at: maybe Nate’s mother, who was driving me absolutely bat-shit crazy, or possibly Nate himself, although I told myself I wasn’t being fair. I’d agreed to marry him. I’d promised him these months of my single-hearted devotion, and it wasn’t right for me to resent that now. But if I was being honest with myself, I had to admit that part of me was furious with Nate for making the request. He’d known, as well as he knew me, that once he’d said the words out loud, asking me to do my dying friend one last favor, I couldn’t say anything but yes. It had been inevitable, because I’d never denied Nate anything it was in my power to grant him.

There was a strong possibility that I was the angriest with myself, I realized, as I slowed the car and turned into the grocery store’s parking lot. Why hadn’t I thought about this longer? Why hadn’t I told Nate that I’d be with him, as his friend, for every minute up to the end, but that marrying him was out of the question? Saying yes was the latest in a lifelong habit of giving Nate what he’d wanted . . . and, I thought with a sinking heart, that same habit had meant putting Leo in second place. I’d told myself last spring that since Leo and I hadn’t been together at that point, I hadn’t owed him anything.

I could still see the pain in Leo’s eyes at Matt’s funeral, when he’d begged me not to go through with it. He’d offered me every way out there was, but stubborn fool that I was, I’d refused. As I slammed the car door and meandered through the automatic doors into the grocery store, I wondered what I’d do today if I had the same choice.

He’d certainly made it clear where he stood the morning after the wedding, when I’d tried to talk with him. I’d wanted to apologize for asking him to be at the ceremony, to tell him I was sorry I’d put all of us through this . . . and maybe there’d been some small part of me that wanted Leo to promise he’d wait for me, as idiotic as that sounded now, in the harsh light of day.

No, Leo had left me no doubt about his feelings. He wasn’t going to wait. We were over, and although we’d had so many ups and downs together, a numb emptiness deep within me whispered that this time, it was for good. It hurt, but I couldn’t blame him. I’d pushed him away, not just now, but back when I’d left him in Carolina. It was all my fault.

The basket I wrangled from the cart pickup seemed okay when I started out, but the further in I got, the more it shook and squeaked. If there was anything that drove me up a wall, it was a defective shopping cart. I paused in the produce department, in front of the tomatoes and corn on the cob, trying to decide if it was worth it to go all the way back and find a new basket or if I should just suck it up and stick it out.

“Quinn?”

At the sound of my name, my head jerked up, and my heart began to pound. Rounding the aisle, with his arms full of hotdog and hamburger buns, Leo stopped, frowning at me, as though my very existence here in this time and place didn’t quite compute.

Before I could figure out what to say to him, another familiar figure appeared at his side, her pretty face alive with laughter. I hadn’t seen Sarah Jenkins for four years, since the summer after our high school graduation. I’d kept up with her on social media in the same vague way I’d been aware of other casual friends. But here she was now, in the flesh . . . and the flesh looked good, I realized with an envious pang. Sarah was just as beautiful as ever, with her gorgeous curling black hair up in a high pony tail. Long tan legs stretched under her white shorts, and the festive red and blue striped tank top clung enough to look enticing without being trampy.

In comparison, I felt dumpy and sloppy—an absolute mess. The shorts I was wearing were an old denim pair that bagged around my ass and legs, and my T-shirt had a couple of holes in the hem. The neck was stretched out, and I couldn’t swear to how clean it was.

If my clothes were in bad shape, I hated to think about my body. I hadn’t shaved my legs since we’d gotten back from the shore. My hair had been bad enough when I left the Wellmans’ house, but after the open-windowed car ride, it probably looked like a rat’s nest. I bit down on my bottom lip and wished the tiled floor would open up and swallow me.

“Hey, Quinn.” Sarah sounded tentative. “It’s so good to see you.” She took a step forward, pulling me into an impulsive hug before I could stop her or wriggle away. “It’s been forever, hasn’t it?”

“Um . . .” I rubbed my finger and thumb together absently. “Yeah, it sure has. How are you? You look great.”

“I’m good.” She nodded in that bobble-headed way of people who don’t know quite what to say. “I’m working in Washington now. Just came up for the holiday . . . with, um, Leo.” She slid him a glance I couldn’t decipher, and I felt sick to my stomach.

God. They were together. I’d pushed Leo away one time too many, and he’d decided to find someone who wasn’t going to turn tail and run when things got rough. Someone who wouldn’t marry another friend just because she felt sorry for him. Someone who didn’t take for granted the idea that Leo would always be there, whenever she was finally ready.

“Are you coming to the picnic?” Leo spoke again at last. His voice was cool, and he was watching me guardedly. I couldn’t really blame him, given everything that had gone down between us during our last conversation.

“No.” I shook my head. “Nate can’t handle anything like that. He can’t even be out of bed very long anymore. Mark and Sheri were going to try to swing by, but then . . .” I shrugged. “I guess they changed their minds. I’m picking up food for us to make at home.”

“Oh.” Leo shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “My mom said you might be by.”

“I thought you were back in Virginia,” I blurted out. “I didn’t think you were in town anymore.”

He rested one large hand on Sarah’s bare shoulder. “Like Sarah said, we just came up for the Fourth of July, to see family. We’re going back day after tomorrow.”

We.
So it was true.

I managed to nod my head, proud that I wasn’t curled on the floor weeping. “That’s nice. I bet your mom’s glad to see you. Are Simon and Danny home, too?”

“Yeah, the whole gang. Simon brought Justine, too—remember the girl he’s been dating? I guess it must be getting serious.” The implication of his words seemed to dawn on Leo at the same time they filtered into my brain. If he assumed Simon was serious about Justine because he’d brought her to the Independence Day celebration, I’d have to think the same about his own feelings toward Sarah, the girl he’d brought home.

“That’s great. Well . . . you all have a good time, okay? I better get moving. Sheri and Mark are going to wonder if I got lost.” I pointed at my empty cart. “Need to grab the food and get back to them. To Nate.”

There was no way I could miss Leo’s wince at the mention of our friend’s name. “Yeah, I guess so. Tell them I said hey, all right? And, uh, tell Nate . . . I was asking for him.”

“Sure will.” It was all I could squeak out before I wheeled the cart around and took off for the front of the store, pushing it blindly, not really sure where I was going and hoping no one was stupid enough to step in front of me.

I’d just rounded the corner of the canned vegetables aisle when Leo caught up with me. “Quinn. Wait a minute. Hold on.”

I paused without turning around. “What do you want, Leo?” I was so stiff that I felt like I might crumble.

“Hey.” He gripped my shoulder, urging me to face him. I might have been gratified by his touch, but it occurred to me that this was the same hand that had been on Sarah’s skin moments before. I shrugged him off and took a few steps backward, away from him.

He scowled, withdrawing his hand and rubbing it over his jaw. “You look like hell, Mia.”

All the mad that I’d been harboring, the anger I’d just been pondering on my way to the store, bubbled to the surface. I no longer cared who had caused it—Sheri, Nate, Leo or even myself. No, I just let it go.

“Yeah? Hmm, I wonder why that could be? Maybe because I’m not sleeping. Maybe because I’m camped in someone’s living room, trying to figure out what I’m doing and how the fuck I ended up there. Maybe because I’m taking care of my friend who’s dying, and even though I hate doing it, hate worrying about medication and when he has to have it and all the other crap I have to do, stuff he wants
me
to do now instead of his mom, because I’m his wife—even though I hate all that, I don’t want to stop doing it, because when I do, I know that will mean he’s gone, and I don’t want him to die. I want this to be over, but I don’t. And I’m selfish and petty and I can’t ever do things as well as Sheri wants me to. I hate living with them, because I can never relax. But they want to spend their son’s last months on earth with him, so I can’t very well suggest we move into my mom’s house.” I swallowed, breathing hard after spitting out so much. “So yeah, I’m sure I look like shit. I’m sure I look even worse next to your girlfriend, but then, I guess she doesn’t sleep on a couch so she can be in the same room as her dying husband, huh? So maybe that gives me a pass on looking good today.”

“God, Mia.” Leo raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean . . . I meant, I’m worried about you. You’ve lost weight, and you look exhausted. I wasn’t saying anything else.” He hesitated and then plunged forward. “And Sarah isn’t my girlfriend. You know that. We’ve been friends for a long time.”

“Since when does being your friend preclude being your girlfriend?” I said it pointedly and looked him straight in the eye for the first time. “I was your friend, too, for a long time.”

“You’re still my friend.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “It’s just hard right now, Quinn. It’s so fucking hard to be around you, when I know I can’t touch you. When I know I can’t have you. You’re still my friend, but you aren’t mine anymore. You’re his.”

I wanted to argue and yell and tell Leo he was wrong, but of course, he wasn’t. So I only nodded my head. “I get it. I understand. But you need to know something, too, Leo. I did this for Nate because I love him, and he’s one of my best friends. I’m not sure you can wrap your mind around that, because of all the other crap that’s tangled up around what happened. But remember this: I would have done the same thing for you, in a heartbeat.”

He stared down at me steadily. “The difference, Mia, is that I never would have asked you to do it. Not for any reason other than life-changing, heart-stopping, can’t-live-without-you love. If I thought you didn’t or couldn’t love me, I would walk away and leave you alone. I’d wish you the best and tell you that I only want you to be happy, because that’s the truth. But I’d never put you in a position where you had to choose to be with me out of pity.”

Closing my eyes, I leaned down on the handle of the cart. Everything in my life was suddenly too heavy to bear. I was too tired to fight Leo anymore, too worn down to make sense of a crazy situation, and too sad to try to make him see things from my perspective. “You’ll never know that for sure, Leo, because you’re not Nate. You were always the strong kid who didn’t get sick, who had friends—and then you were the Lion, the popular football star in high school and in college. You have no idea what Nate’s been through. Even I can’t really know that. But I can do my damnedest to make sure the end of his life is as good as it can get. That’s all I’m trying to do. I don’t want praise. I just want to get through this.” I flashed a glance up at him. “And a little help from my friends wouldn’t hurt.”