The Passing Storm(95)

“Not lately.”

“Wow. Talk about a turnaround. I assumed she’d keep up the nonsense until she met her baby brother.”

A sudden grin took Yuna’s lips hostage. “Okay, you got me. She probably would’ve. One of those bad habits a kid picks up, and it’s hard to break.”

Now Rae was intrigued. “How did you cure her of the ‘mean baby’ habit?”

“Through negotiation. We narrowed down our son’s potential name to three options. We let Kameko pick her favorite. When he’s old enough, she can tease Kenji about being allowed to pick his name. I’m sure he’ll find ways to tease her back. The story of siblings, right?”

Rae didn’t know; she’d grown up as an only child. But the thought was surprisingly sweet. Yuna’s two younger sisters both lived nearer to Cleveland. Kipp’s older brother was in Columbus, but they were also close.

“Griffin and Sally still tease each other,” Rae said, “even though they’re in their thirties. I’m glad they’re still close.”

“Where is Griffin?” Yuna checked her watch. Kipp was already at the table the foursome would share with another couple.

“Go on—sit down with Kipp. Stand here much longer, and you’ll need to pee. Griffin’s just running a little late. Some hang-up at work.”

“I always have to pee.” With a wave, Yuna hurried to their table.

Near the gazebo, Rae spotted him. Griffin had stopped to chat with Quinn—who looked agitated. Last night, Griffin had come out to the farm. He’d presented the youth with a fancy, space age–looking razor. They’d spent long minutes alone in the guest bathroom as an eighteen-year-old boy received his first lesson in proper shaving.

Dressed in a new blazer, Quinn swept the crowd with his gaze. The petite Ava, her brown hair swishing across her back, appeared at his side. They were grinning at each other foolishly as Griffin, taking his cue, ducked into the crowd. He was shaking hands and pausing for brief conversations as he wended his way toward the courthouse, where they’d agreed to meet.

Mik was in a minimum-security prison near Dayton. Probably for another two years. He was participating daily in the prison’s anger-management sessions. He’d also volunteered to help younger inmates learn the basics of mechanics in the facility’s workshop. Small steps, but for a man with a deplorable history of abusing others, they meant something.

Penny was long gone, their house sold. No one knew where she’d gone; Quinn didn’t care. Nor was he interested in visiting Mik—only Rae had made the trip, once.

She went alone.

She doubted she’d ever find the means to forgive what he’d done to Quinn—or to her, so many years ago. She was only human, and that level of forgiveness seemed beyond anything she was capable of achieving. But she wanted to make peace with the past—to confront it, then let it go. She was no longer satisfied with burying the worst secrets or allowing them to fester inside her.

Rae only stayed long enough at the correctional facility to get the facts: what Mik had done to her, he’d never done to another woman. There was no way to know for certain that he’d told her the truth. But she believed that he had.

In September, Quinn would begin commuting to culinary classes at Tri-C. The discussion of when Quinn would move out was off the table. Not for several more years, Rae hoped. He wasn’t done growing up just yet.

Griffin appeared at her side. “Sorry I’m late.” He kissed her.

“Were you trying to glad-hand everyone here? If you’re planning to unseat Kipp as Chardon’s mayor, we should give him fair warning.”

“Nope. Just making connections.” Spotting his sister and Trenton on the other side of the dance floor, he waved. Then he motioned toward a middle-aged woman in a flowered dress. “Is she the owner of the new printing shop? Maybe I should wander over, say hello.”

“Griffin, sell design services on your own time. You don’t see me hitting people up about their insurance policies. Stop working. We’re on a date.”

“Right.”

His glance skipped over her hip-hugging silk dress. She’d spent hours at the store, pushing off suggestions as Yuna—practically waddling and complaining about needing to pee—made her try on dozens of styles. Apparently, the effort was in vain.

Griffin said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He threaded his fingers through her long, untamable hair. “For not getting your hair done. I was afraid Yuna would talk you into going overboard. Styling your hair and putting it up on your head. I like it the way it is.”

“I need a trim. My hair’s getting too long.”

“I love your long hair.”

For proof, Griffin dipped his face near. He pressed a lingering kiss beneath her ear. Rae trembled. Drawing back, he smiled triumphantly.

They were at risk of their gazes tangling. Whenever it happened, Rae experienced the intensity of a July heat wave. Griffin, she knew, did too.

He cleared his throat.

Donning a reserved expression, he gestured at the festivities. “You did a great job.” His gaze was still fiery. He managed to drag his eyes from her face. “You’ve added lots of younger people to the mix. Young and old—a good blend. Night on the Square is becoming the city’s hottest event.”