Her father was faster on the uptake. “Your dad likes when you make dinner?”
“Oh yeah.” Quinn grew animated. “I get along with him a whole lot better when I cook stuff he likes. Coq au vin is his favorite. I’ve also got a venison bourguignon I make during hunting season. Dad loves to hunt. When school’s not in session and I’m not working, I make French bread and desserts too. The more he eats, the less he drinks.”
Sympathy filled the webwork of lines comprising Connor’s face. “How long have you been cooking for him?” Reaching into his pocket, he slid a biscuit down the table.
Murmuring thanks, Quinn gave the treat to his dog. “Oh, since I was eight or nine. A lady who used to live on our street taught me the basics.”
“That was sweet of her.”
“She was old. She missed cooking for her husband. He’d died. One day when my parents were fighting, she found me sitting at the picnic table in her yard. I thought she’d get mad. She didn’t—she invited me inside.” Remembering, he coasted thoughtful fingers across Shelby’s back, smoothing down the fur. “After that, I started checking out food shows on YouTube. My dad is less of a bear when I make dinner. I think it soaks up the booze.”
“You’re a smart young man,” her father said.
Rae asked, “What about Penny? Does she cook?” Apparently, a macho guy like Mik never went near a stove.
“She thinks she does. Mostly she burns stuff in a skillet.” A trace of fear swept through Quinn’s eyes. “My parents have some scary go-rounds about Mom’s cooking. She’ll get dinner started, then walk away. Start watching TV or make a drink. Lots of times the kitchen reeks of smoke before she remembers what she’s doing. Really pisses Dad off. The rest of the time, he makes fun of her. Teases her about her lousy cooking or mocks her when she goes heavy with the makeup to try to look younger.”
Rae felt sick. “Does your Dad make fun of you too?”
“All the time,” Quinn replied with indifference, as if verbal abuse was commonplace in most homes. “Dad says I’m more of a girl than Mom. He’ll ask if he should get me a girlie apron to finish my transformation into a chick. I just keep my mouth shut when he starts in.” A gratifying trace of pride blotted out the fear. “What does he know? Lots of men cook.”
“Including some of the world’s greatest chefs,” Connor added. “Your dad is a dumbbell. No offense.”
Quinn laughed. “None taken.”
Rae finished her tea. “Well, now I understand why Penny was ramped up today. They got back from vacation, and Mik wasn’t happy the French chef had moved out.”
“I’m sorry about my mother.”
“Forget it. I can take care of myself.” It wasn’t entirely true, where Penny was concerned. She resolved to prepare for the next standoff—which seemed inevitable. Switching topics, Rae asked, “Why did it take so long for your dad to notice your absence? They must’ve returned from Atlanta days ago.”
“I’m not sure. Somehow my mom got him believing I was still around.”
Connor grunted. “She’s a dumbbell too. Probably stuffed your bed with pillows. Figured she’d fool your dad forever.”
“Could be.” Quinn gripped the table’s edge, then began drumming his fingers. “Should I move out? You know, because my parents want me back?”
“Hell no.”
Rae cast a warning glance. “Dad—language.” To Quinn she said, “I can’t promise your parents won’t keep demanding you return home. But the choice isn’t theirs to make. Quinn, you’re a legal adult. This is your decision. We’re glad you’re living with us, and we want you to stay.” For emphasis, she paused. Locating the steady, serious tone she’d once used to steer her late daughter in the right direction, she added, “Will you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Trust matters in relationships. That means you don’t hold back or lie. You should’ve told us immediately that your mother—not both of your parents—made you move out. The specifics wouldn’t have mattered to me or my father. We still would’ve offered you a place to stay.” She looked at him closely. “Do you understand? I’m not trying to come down on you. I’m just explaining the rules of the road in the Langdon house.”
Quinn swallowed. “I get it.”
“Good.” She hesitated. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”