The Passing Storm(27)
Dinner ended with a spontaneous round of applause for their ingenious chef. The praise took Quinn off guard.
Amid the clapping he rose from his chair. The familiar blush crept across his skin as he took a stiff bow. Yet even a kid with little experience with praise learns fast. Rummaging through the cupboards, Quinn announced he’d bake something for dessert.
While he placed ingredients on the counter, Rae noticed his dog rooting around inside his book bag. Beneath the heavy textbooks, a handful of dog food was scattered across the bottom of the bag. Shelby—tongue lolling and ears cocked—seemed agreeable to another meal. Rae chopped up small chunks of cheese. Connor fetched the peanut butter. The dog plowed through the savory mixture.
By the time the doorbell rang, and Rae ushered Yuna inside, a celebratory air had filled the living room.
On the floor, Kameko—having stolen one of Connor’s athletic socks from the laundry basket—played tug-of-war with Shelby. Her peals of laughter resounded through the room. From the couch, Connor cheered her on. Quinn did the same, in between polishing off mouthfuls of the leftover hash browns that had been growing cold on the coffee table.
Taking in the lively scene, Yuna said, “I’ll give you credit, Rae. When you make a change, you don’t settle for half measures.”
“You know me. Go big or go home.” Rae helped her out of her coat. “I thought your hubby was picking up Kameko. Did Chardon’s dedicated mayor get hung up?”
“His meeting started late. I won’t see Kipp until later tonight.” More laughter rang out. Yuna glanced affectionately at her daughter. Kameko rolled onto her belly and nuzzled Shelby’s neck. “Is the dog Quinn’s? She has a sweet temperament.”
“Can we discuss Shelby in a sec? There’s something I need to tell you.” Rae plunged forward before second thoughts intruded. “I’ve changed my mind about Night on the Square.”
“You’ll help with the fundraiser?” Yuna smiled broadly. “What made you reconsider?”
There was no simple explanation. Rescuing Shelby from Mr. Cox had brightened Rae’s outlook. Quinn’s revelations about Lark were less cheerful news. Still, he’d lent insight into Lark’s secret hopes and wishes. Rae was grateful for the knowledge. Together, the two events seemed a turning point: Rae often felt immobilized by grief, but her life was moving forward.
In fits and starts.
She was no longer stuck in place. Even if her verve for life slumbered beneath frosty layers of sorrow, she was beginning to feel, well, hopeful.
None of which she could describe at the moment. Kameko leaped up, and her eager playmate barked. Connor balled up the sock and pitched it neatly. Child and dog raced after.
Rae said, “It’s not right to bail on the June event. I made you a promise, Yuna. Count me in as your second-in-command.” She inhaled a fortifying breath. “I do have one condition.”
With expectation, Yuna stared at her.
“I’m not attending the committee meetings. I’ll do the PR legwork and report to you directly.”
“You’re not ready to see Katherine Thomerson or Sally Harrow?”
“It’s too soon.” The women were a stark reminder of Lark’s death. Rae didn’t trust herself to keep it together if forced to spend any amount of time with either woman. “I’ll keep you posted if I change my mind.”
“That’s fine.” Yuna followed her into the kitchen. “Thanks for reconsidering. We have a million tasks ahead of us. I’d be lost without your help.”
“Let’s get started this week.” Rae began to add something else. Instead, she frowned. “Don’t you teach a class tonight? Kameko’s more than welcome to stay. I’ll drop her off later.”
“The knitting class is canceled. There must be a bug going around. Two of the women are down with colds.” The sweet fragrance of cinnamon wafted through the air, and Yuna spied the loaf of banana bread cooling on the stove. “Since when do you bake?”
“Since never. Quinn made the bread.”
“Did he use one of . . . ?”
“Lark’s recipes? He did.” Rae smiled with reassurance. “It’s all right. With Quinn around, my daughter is no longer a taboo subject. He talks about her all the time.” She declined to add that he was also a surprising repository for Lark’s hidden longings, which highlighted Rae’s failures as a parent. She hadn’t supplied what Lark needed most—the truth about her father.
Regret slowed Rae’s movements as she poured coffee. “Quinn found Lark’s gluten-free flour in the freezer. He tossed a mashed avocado into the batter. Don’t tell my father. Connor hates avocados.”
“For Connor’s heart health?”
“Yes. Since Quinn moved in, we’re eating a more balanced diet.”
“When he has time, ask him to make Lark’s chocolate-zucchini bread. Two loaves. I’ll pay for one.” Yuna tipped her head to the side, her expression thoughtful. “Actually, the chocolate-zucchini bread is Quinn’s recipe. He gave it to Lark.”
Rae’s eyes misted. “I thought she found the recipe in one of my mother’s old cookbooks.”
“No, he gave it to her sometime last year.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. All my assumptions about Quinn were mistaken. On the surface, he’s nothing like my daughter. Bashful, unsure. Underneath, it’s a different story.”