“They’re expensive. My Honda’s on its last leg, and our food bill’s exploding.” He patted the dog, who was patiently resting her head on his leg. A biscuit appeared from his pocket. “It’s a toss-up who eats more—our new houseguest or his furry friend.”
“Let’s not rush into anything. We’ll shop around for an affordable system.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The familiar rumble of Quinn’s truck came up the drive. The engine cut off. Rae exchanged a glance with her father.
The clock ticked, the minutes passing. Finishing his drink, Connor poured another.
Rae dropped her voice to whisper. “Why doesn’t he come inside?”
“He knows he’s in trouble.”
“What, he’s got a crystal ball in the truck? I hope he doesn’t get frostbite reading the signs.” On an intake of breath, she stumbled across a more probable reason. “Penny called or sent him a text. She filled him in about our encounter on Chardon Square.”
“That’s my guess. Now he’s stewing in his car.”
“Should I fetch him?”
“Leave him be. This is his decision. He’s got to decide whether to take a child’s way out or act like a man. First off, he’ll weigh the merits of heading for the hills. Driving all the way to California, or some such nonsense.”
The possibility made Rae’s stomach lurch.
No matter how much she dreaded another confrontation with Penny—or, worse still, with Mik—having Quinn run off didn’t bear contemplating. The skinny youth was beginning to gain weight. He was a genuine help to Connor. He pitched in around the house and insisted on paying for Shelby’s dog food. Some nights, when he thought Rae was asleep, he sang to his dog. Quietly, in a lilting whisper—silly, nonsense songs. The sort one sang to a toddler.
Shelby, entranced by the serenade, contributed amusing yips and full-throated yowls to the chorus.
The Galeckis were a threat. She’d take her chances to protect Quinn.
At last, heavy footfalls approached from the living room. Relief spilled through Rae. Then consternation. Quinn halted in the hallway, just a few feet away. She detected a scattered mumbling of words.
Was Quinn praying?
Connor rolled his eyes. Prayer or not, there were limits to his patience.
“Get in here, son! We’re waiting.”
From the doorway, Quinn dredged up the classic teenage response. “I can explain everything.”
“And pigs can fly.” Connor stabbed a finger at a chair. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”
Once Quinn was seated, Rae jumped in. “Why did you lie to us? You led us to believe your parents had thrown you out of the house.”
“It was only a half lie. My mom told me to move out. She said if I didn’t, I’d catch hell when she got back from Atlanta. She was getting drunk, but I knew she wasn’t kidding around. She, um . . .” Embarrassed, Quinn hung his head.
“What?”
“She had me by the neck when she spelled it out.”
Disgust pinged through Rae, stirring her tender, mothering instincts. “Where was your father while this transpired?”
“In the bedroom, packing for the trip.”
“Mik left for the airport without knowing Penny told you to move out?”
“She warned I’d get a walloping if I told him.”
“So Mik doesn’t know she threw you out. He thinks this was all your idea. He assumes you took advantage of their trip to Atlanta to clear out—and avoid setting him off.”
Connor shifted in his chair. “Penny’s stirred up one fine hornet’s nest,” he muttered. “I’ll bet Mik’s furious.”
Quinn shrugged out of his parka. “I suppose she’d put together a story to tell him when they got back. About me going to live with friends, or something.” His gaze was still downcast, the color rising in his cheeks. Discussing this was clearly a humiliating experience for the kid. “She gets really pissed off when she drinks too much. I wasn’t going to argue with her.”
The sentiment was understandable. This afternoon, Rae hadn’t wanted to argue with Penny either. She’d been frightened. A shameful response. When Penny pushed her back against the car, she should’ve clocked her, and good.
With confusion, Connor scratched his head. “If Penny wanted you to move out, why’s she gunning for you to come home now?”
“Lots of reasons. Coq au vin, mostly.”
Rae frowned. How did the kid’s mastery of French cooking figure in?