“They were only planning to work on the fourth tree today. Maybe the fifth.”
“At this rate, they’ll finish soon. I can’t wait to see the final result.”
“It’ll be gorgeous,” Rae murmured.
Holding her breath, she watched Quinn climb higher. He was having fun, his features animated, his movements fluid and easy. Like a kid discovering new talents and the confidence that came along with them. He planted his feet on a thick branch. Grinning, he gave Connor a thumbs-up.
“You look like a worried mommy bear,” Yuna teased. “Quinn has great balance. He climbs to the top shelves in my storage room without batting an eye. Relax.”
“I’m concerned he’s overdoing it to make me feel better.” She recalled their conversation this morning. “He knew I was upset when he told me about Lark’s visits with Griffin. The way I lit out of the house in a fury . . . what if I scared him? It’s not like he needs more anxiety.” She sighed. “Not that I do either.”
“That’s not the only reason Quinn’s working hard. You’ve been good to him. This is his way of thanking you.”
“I suppose.”
“Will you tell him about the altercation with Mik?”
“Absolutely not. He’s already scared of his father. More so now that he’s blocked his calls. Telling him that Mik’s livid about the living arrangements . . . Nope. Not a great idea. I did check with the high school principal.”
“You called the high school again? The principal won’t let Penny or Mik on school grounds. Quinn’s a legal adult. They can’t barge into the high school and insist on seeing him.”
Which Rae understood, but she’d been desperate for more reassurance. The look on Mik’s face when he’d confronted her this morning—she’d been frightened. For her own safety, of course. Once she’d arrived at work, she began to understand how much danger Mik posed to his son. What would set off his temper next?
Breaking into her thoughts, Yuna said, “Quinn has stopped parking in front of the craft emporium when he works. I didn’t notice right away.”
A wise choice, in Rae’s estimation. “He’s parking in the alley behind the buildings?”
“Yes, and doing his best to avoid his parents.” Despite the gravity of the situation, Yuna chuckled. “I told him you’d been using the alley to avoid Penny. That might’ve given him the incentive to park there. Whatever works, right?”
“Has Penny been around Chardon Square? Please tell me she hasn’t.”
“Not that I’ve seen. With you and Quinn both staying out of sight, maybe she’s stopped driving in circles around the square. Or she’s landed a new job. With any luck, it’s a job in Mentor or Willoughby—miles away from Chardon. She can only go so long without pulling down a paycheck.”
“She’ll need the money—Griffin made it clear he’ll talk to his father. Mik’s job is gone.”
“Threatening a woman in broad daylight—Mik should lose his job. And I’m thrilled Griffin took him on. Probably the first time anyone in town has ever stood up to him. What I’d give to have watched.”
“He did more than stand up to Mik. I thought they’d come to blows. It was awful.”
“The outcome was good. Griffin came to the rescue.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, forget it. Griffin rode in like a white knight after I rammed my car into the planter outside his firm. Oh, and barged into his office screaming. I wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise. Then I blamed him for a situation he did not set in motion. What’s wrong with me?”
Yuna appeared torn between pity and a bad case of giggles. “Did you chew him out?” For a best friend, she rated top of the class. But the situation was not funny.
“Yes, I did,” Rae admitted. Knowing that her dumber moves tickled Yuna’s funny bone managed to increase her discomfort. Mostly because she never should’ve stormed into Griffin’s office in the first place. A smarter woman would’ve thought it all out first. “Don’t put me on the hot seat. I’m not going there.”
“You don’t have a choice. My life has been reduced to morning sickness and my five-year-old complaining about the ‘mean baby.’ As if a feisty embryo is responsible for the removal of red meat from my household.” Yuna batted her lashes. “C’mon—dish. If I can’t live vicariously through you, what have I got?”