The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller (22 page)

Her eyes break from Quinn and dart up to her equally immaculate husband. He sternly shakes his head before leaning into Quinn’s ear, muttering words that make her chin tremble. When he’s done with his reprimand, he relaxes back into his seat and casually sips his wine. I glance back to his wife, who’s watching Quinn’s reaction like a hawk.

Just when I thought Quinn couldn’t get any smaller, she folds so deeply into herself that she no longer seems to exist. Worried about her, I tense to stand, but Kaeleb places his hand on my knee. With his eyes trained on Quinn, he subtly shakes his head. I breathe and attempt to relax my leg muscles, but my jaw remains clenched as I continue to stare. Her mother places the plate back in front of Quinn, but when she presses it away again, I stop watching and turn to Linda who also eyes their exchange with uneasiness.

With nervous anxiety, my foot bounds repeatedly off the floor. Kaeleb squeezes my knee gently before tearing his attention away from the commotion and striking up conversation with his grandparents.

Things simmer down for a while until everyone’s main courses arrive, only to start up again.

And when it does, it ignites with a bang.

Quinn’s fork clatters loudly as she throws it onto the table in frustration. It bounces off the expensive china, drawing every single person’s attention within twenty feet. The murmurs of the restaurant die down as people drop their conversations and turn to our table. Her mother’s face reddens while her father gives a severe glare.

“Quinn, this childish behavior will not be tolerated,” he states, the power in his voice practically vibrating the table until the power of his palm lands flat against it, causing an actual quake. My body jumps in response and my heart rate picks up with the need to protect my friend.

I throw my napkin down and place my hands on the table, but Quinn’s tear-filled eyes hold mine as she shakes her head. Breaking away from me, she looks to Kaeleb and dips her head in apology before meeting her parents’ stares.

Deliberately, she dabs her mouth with her napkin—no idea why—and then sets it on the table, rising as she turns her focus solely on her mother.

“I’m extremely surprised,
Mother
, that my appearance seems to bother you so much. I mean, isn’t this what you wanted?” She breaks to display her body, “For me to be skinny and perfect? Yet, here I am, skinny and perfect, and it’s
still
not good enough for you?”

Her tone crescendos with each question until she’s practically screaming. Glaring at her mother, she says nothing else, but throws her napkin on the table, yanks her clutch off the table, and storms off toward the front entrance.

Her mother eyes dart around the table, but not out of anger or embarrassment. It’s almost as though she’s searching for an explanation.

“Get back here, young lady!” Quinn’s father bolts up and follows her, prompting her mother to do the same. My eyes are trained on them as they corner Quinn by the hostess stand and I watch with concern as she continues her rant. Her arms flail around wildly as she speaks to her parents, the ire in her features evident from clear across the room. When her mother tries to console her by wrapping her arm around Quinn’s shoulder, she forcefully shrugs it off and bursts through the front door. Her parents stare blankly at one another before scurrying after her.

Tearing my stare away from the turmoil, I glance back to Kaeleb whose troubled expression mirrors mine.

“Do you think she’s okay?” I ask under my breath.

Kaeleb’s jaw ticks as he deliberates my answer. “Not sure.”

He exhales and runs his fingers forcefully through his hair. “The weird thing is…it’s almost as though she
provoked
that fight. I watched her the entire time. She wanted
something
to go down tonight, I’m just not sure what.”

I nod in agreement. “Yeah, but maybe she just needed to get angry, you know? We both know that
anything
is better than the complete lack of it these past months.”

“Maybe…”

Kaeleb’s tone is uncertain, but as the servers arrive to refill our drinks, he masks his concern and smiles at the waitress.

Just as the drinks are poured, Quinn’s parents arrive back at the table. Her mother’s eyes are tear-filled and bloodshot, and her father’s expression is tightly drawn. Grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair, he looks directly at me. “Quinn has chosen to take a cab back to your apartment. Please have her call us in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply.

My tone is surprisingly gentle because as I take in the heartbreak demonstrated on their faces, my anger quickly subsides. I watch each remorseful tear that falls from her mother’s chin, and I realize that her actions were never to intentionally hurt Quinn. Continuing to hold her eyes, I silently hope for her sake that whatever damage she’s done, no matter how misguided those actions were, can be repaired. No one knows more than me how much unconditional love Quinn has to give, and as I watch her mother’s face contort with sorrow, I find myself saddened that she may never be on the receiving end of it.

The server arrives shortly after, and Quinn’s father pays the entire bill before both parents offer their apologies and leave the restaurant.

The remainder of dinner is relatively quiet, the awkwardness of the evening dwindling the conversation to nothing. Lost in concern for Quinn, Kaeleb and I eat our meals quickly, practically inhaling our food so we can get back to the apartment.

Everyone at the table must grasp our need to hurry because we’re given no grief as we bid Kaeleb’s grandparents a quick goodbye with the promise to call them tomorrow.

Shrugging on my coat, I glance up at Kaeleb who’s throwing his jacket on just as hastily. His worried eyes meet mine, but as they slowly drift over my shoulder, his hardened features relax into a soft, genuine smile.

“Hey!” Linda’s voice calls from behind me. I whirl around as she approaches, purse in hand. “Mind if I steal her for a bit, Kaeleb?”

His grin widens as he shakes his head. “Of course not. I’ll just head to the apartment and check on Quinn. Meet you there?” he asks, his question directed at me.

I nod in response and he leans into me, brushing his lips against mine. I breathe out a sigh of relief knowing she will be in good hands with Kaeleb there.

He gives me another tender kiss on the forehead before embracing Linda. Her face brightens and for the first time tonight, I notice how tired she looks. She mentioned working nights at the hospital a while back, and I immediately feel guilty for asking her to come. The day is already gone, and our dinner was a lost cause due to Quinn’s outburst. I feel like I’ve hardly had a chance to see her.

She hugs Kaeleb tightly and waggles her eyebrows at me over his shoulder, forcing me to cover my mouth as I stifle my laughter. Releasing Linda from his hold, Kaeleb turns and kisses my cheek tenderly. “I’ll walk you ladies out,” he offers, which earns me another approving grin from Linda.

After we arrive at her car, he opens Linda’s door, shutting her inside before rounding the front and opening mine. With his hip against the doorframe, he leisurely tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as his lips lift into a small smile. “See ya at the apartment, Sunshine. You’ll know where to find me.”

I give him a nod and slide into Linda’s car, painfully unaware that in just a couple of hours, Kaeleb McMadden
wouldn’t be the person I’d be searching for.

It would be Aubrey Miller.

“Well,
that
was interesting,” Linda remarks, shifting into drive as I snap my seatbelt into place.

“Quinn?” After I’m buckled in, I glance over to her and watch as she nods her head.

Facing forward, my hands find their way to my lap as I inhale deeply. “Yeah, she’s had a rough couple of months.”

“Is she okay?”

Exhaling, I ponder Linda’s question before answering.

“I hope so. I
really
hope so.”

Silence fills the car until Linda finally breaks it with a deep breath through her nose.

“So…wanna go get a hot fudge sundae?”

Her head turns in my direction and a breath catches in my throat. Anxiety begins to creep into my chest, and my fingers absently glide along its center to ease the sudden pressure, but there’s no relief from the movement. My trembling hands find the seat underneath my legs as a very familiar fear, one which I haven’t felt in a very long time, begins to filter through my body.

“Um, no, I don’t want to go anywhere near a hot fudge sundae, actually.” I turn away from her, trying desperately to maintain my composure and focus on the hustle and bustle of the city through the window. Anything to stop the terror dictating my rapid heartbeat.

Hot fudge sundaes
are always Linda’s go-to strategy when she’s about to break some really bad news. It started long ago with poor Walter, and consisted of a lengthy, in-depth introduction to chocolate toxicity as she tried to assure me his death wasn’t my fault. The meetings have, unfortunately, continued on throughout the years.

Therefore, the mention of
hot fudge sundaes
means that something is terribly wrong. And whatever it is, it’s vibrating the air all around us. I can feel it clear down to the marrow in my bones as the heaviness of unbridled anger and well-known terror begins to coat my lungs.

I can’t breathe.

God, I can’t breathe.

“Aubrey—”

“NO!” I scream, the pressure inside my chest tightening as I twist back to her. “Just tell me, Linda! I don’t need a fucking
sundae
to make it all better!”

She grips the wheel tightly and jerks the car to the left, crossing two traffic lanes until we finally coast to a stop alongside the road. Throwing the car in park, she turns and faces me, her own anger evident as her eyes narrow in my direction and her lips tighten into a thin line. I hold her stare, panting from my outburst, fury framing my features as we glare at each other.

Shaking my head, I mutter, “Just tell me.”

Her face soon falls from that of irritation into one of defeat as she reaches over and pries my hand out from under my leg. Stroking it softly, she says, “I didn’t want to do this here, but I don’t know when I will see you next and it needs to be discussed. It’s something that affects both of us greatly.” Her hand squeezes mine and she exhales deeply. “And I sure as hell didn’t want to do it in the car, on the side of the road.”

I say nothing in return, but my mind is screaming in such anguish I’m forced to close my eyes.

Tightening her grip, she takes in another breath and clears her throat. “I have been diagnosed with stage II lung cancer.”

I open my eyes and jerk my hand out from underneath hers. “No.”

“
Yes
, Aubrey.” Linda draws her hand back into her lap and continues to nervously watch my reaction from across the vehicle. “I knew back in late January actually, but I didn’t want to say anything until I found out the prognosis and treatment options. February came and went, and now it’s the beginning of March and it’s time.” She swallows deeply. “I’ll be starting radiation next week, and surgery soon after that.”

“So…Christmas…not bronchitis?” I ask with no emotion in my tone as all the pieces fall together.

Linda shrugs her shoulders. “Not bronchitis.”

“You haven’t smoked a cigarette in your life.”

“I know. Sometimes it just happens.”

You mean,
I
just happen.

The thought lances my brain, the pain of its implications throbbing inside my head. My throat swells even more, and the pressure beneath my ribcage almost implodes as my walls begin to reform. I can feel them mechanically hardening around my heart, furiously trying to suffocate any hope that I ever had for having a normal life.

“Are you going to be okay?” I barely manage to squeeze through my gritted teeth.

Linda’s face falls. “I sure hope so, honey.”

Moisture lines her eyes, but she nods slightly. Reaching over, she takes my hand from my lap and squeezes it gently. “I
will
fight this,” she says, her tone full of determination. The tears are finally expelled from her eyes and slide down her pained expression as my chest squeezes like a vise, further constricting my breaths.

I give her a slight nod and place my other hand on top of hers. “I know you will.”

But because of me, you will lose.

Guilt floods me.

I can’t breathe.

Forcing my gaze at the windshield, I make no further attempt to speak. My heart rate slows and my skin grows cold, the heat from my anger lessening as I force myself to go completely numb.

It hurts too much.

I cast my glance to the window and swallow deeply as I shift in my seat, once again facing forward. “Linda, would you mind taking me home? I’m not feeling so well.”

She sniffles beside me, but nods her head and shifts into drive. Her hand remains clutched around mine the entire way home. Ten minutes later, we pull up to my apartment complex and I say nothing as I open the door, placing my foot on the pavement. Linda opens her own door to join me, but I raise my hand, stopping her as soon as she stands.