Saving Gracie Part 19

"He just kept nodding. You know, like I was doing good."

"Maybe he was falling asleep."

"His eyes were open."

Meghan rolled hers.

Quinlan glared.

"Okay. I guess that's a good sign," Meghan sighed with exaggerated emphasis.

"I know, right? I thought so too. And they even had my orientation scores and my cla.s.s grades. I guess I did better than I thought."

"Not according to your progress...." Meghan broke off, tapping her mouth with her fingers.

Quinlan went silent.

Meghan sighed. "Look, I support you because you're my sister. I've helped you study because you're my sister. But, I'm concerned-"

"Because I'm your sister." Quinlan said.

"Yeah."

Quinlan crumbled her napkin fan. "I know you don't approve, but-"

"Approve? Quin, I'm scared silly." Meghan gnawed at her cuticles. "And I'm not even supposed to get scared anymore."

"As I was saying." Quinlan smoothed the wrinkled napkin.

"Okay." Meghan crossed her arms. "Go ahead."

"I've done my homework. I've taken the proper steps. And my mind is made up."

"And we all know how that goes." Meghan did another serious eye roll.

"Look." Quinlan tossed a quick smile to a couple sitting at the next table. "I'm aware I might be a bit of a control freak, but-"

"There's a but?"

"But, it's because I'm always right." Quinlan thrust her chin out in defiance. "I can't help it."

A waiter appeared at the table and replaced the teapot with a fresh one. They smiled and waited for him to disappear.

"It must be nice knowing what's best for everyone," Meghan mocked.

"Not always," Quinlan countered seriously, despite Meghan's jab. "Sometimes it's exhausting."

Meghan sighed.

"For instance," Quinlan said, "look at your living room. It's much more s.p.a.cious the way I rearranged it."

"I'll give you that one."

"Not to mention, you're eating home-cooked meals," Quinlan aimed her index finger at Meghan. "And the flower beds-"

"Okay. I get the picture." Meghan finished her tea. "Get back on topic. Did anything else happen?"

Quinlan let the question hang in the air. The moment had arrived...no getting around it. "Well...there was one other thing." Quinlan chewed her lower lip. Her hands felt clammy.

"Which was?"

Quinlan wiped sweaty palms across her lap. "Why."

"Why what?"

Her neck tensed. She dreaded this next part. Taking a quick breath and closing her eyes for a brief second, she exhaled. "They wanted to know why I asked to be a.s.signed to Gracie."

"You did what?"

The strength of Meghan's gale-force yell blew Quinlan's hair back and caught the attention of the other cafe patrons.

"Shhh." Quinlan's finger touched her lips.

"You can't be serious. Please, please. Please. Say you're not serious." Meghan waved her hands to fan her face. "Is your spool unwinding?"

Quinlan picked up the napkin and flapped it in Meghan's direction.

"No. No. And no. It'll never work." Meghan kept fluttering. "There are rules about that. You do know the rules, don't you?" Meghan's words shot forth like sparks of electricity. "It would be nice, yes, but you don't go back to a.s.sist your own daughter."

Quinlan felt like a five year old who just found out Santa wasn't real. "But...they said I could." She stared into her cup, pushing around the tea bag with her spoon. She knew Meghan would take it hard, but she had to be told. Didn't want that little tidbit appearing in The Guardian.

"Meghan, I know this isn't easy for you to understand," Quinlan said. "But can you trust me, just this once? Please? I know what I'm doing." A little white lie...secretly, she had no clue.

"Quin, the two of you never agreed on anything. An-y-thing." Meghan jabbed her spoon at Quinlan like a pointer. "You expect me to accept that you going back is in Gracie's best interest?"

Quinlan opened her mouth, then closed it, not sure how to respond. She finally spoke. "I know she needs me, Meghan. She's in trouble."

Meghan grabbed the edge of the table. "How do you know that?"

"Promise you won't get mad." Quinlan cringed, realizing too late that she'd chosen the absolute worst way to start a sentence.

Meghan raised an eyebrow.

"The day orientation ended, I saw Ruby in the library."

"And?"

"She was on-line reading about the White Sox."

Meghan crossed her arms and leaned forward.

"She was reading the Chicago Tribune."

"Go on." Meghan drummed impatient fingers on her arms.

"So...I realized she knew how to connect. You know...to Earth. Find out what's going on," Quinlan said.

Meghan's hand flew to her mouth with a choked gasp. "You've been using your CI card?"

"Well, Ruby-" Quinlan twiddled a spoon between her fingers.

"She showed you, didn't she?"

"It wasn't all her fault." Quinlan accidentally flipped the spoon to the next table. She mouthed 'sorry' to the couple's stare. "I sort of tricked her."

"And how did you manage that?" Meghan's beamed glare could have chiseled through a stone.

"I told her I wanted to look up some recipes. So she...."

A horrified expression crept onto Meghan's face, connecting the dots about Quinlan's time at the library. She held up her hands in the universal stop sign. "Forget it. I don't want to know anymore." Meghan s.n.a.t.c.hed her purse and took off down the street.

"Meghan. Wait." Quinlan caught up to her sister. "Let me explain."

Quinlan took Meghan's silence as a permission statement and started her story. She talked the entire way home, paused long enough to open the gate at the cottage, and continued for another thirty minutes while they sat in the swing on the front porch.

Meghan held up a finger as if checking wind direction. "One question."

"Shoot." Quinlan regretted her choice of words the moment they left her mouth.

"I've listened to everything you've said." Meghan rocked thoughtfully in the porch swing, her brows furrowed like McDonalds' arches. "But, I have to ask. Seriously. Why would the Advisory Council agree to this?"

Breaking eye contact, Quinlan studied her hands in her lap. "I don't know."

Quinlan and Meghan sat at the kitchen table, each lost in their own silence. The morning sun streamed through the windowpanes above the sink, shooting patterned rays across the polished wood floor. On the counter, a red electric coffee pot brewed. The smell of fresh coffee usually left Quinlan feeling warm and cozy. Not today. She scanned her list before breaking the silence. "I've got a lot to do today."

"I still can't believe they approved this." Meghan shook her head while pouring coffee.

"We've been over this a hundred times." Quinlan rubbed the back of her stiff neck. "I applied for the return and they approved it." She pushed the notepad aside and spread apple jelly on a corner of her English m.u.f.fin. She forced herself to take small bites. Her stomach churned, but not from hunger.

"Did they say how long you'd be gone?" Meghan stirred her coffee and plucked a plump strawberry from her plate.

Quinlan hesitated. "That depends."

"On what?"

"How it goes." Quinlan tore the remainder of the m.u.f.fin into pieces for the birds to feed on. "I could be back in a week."

"Meaning?"

"If I mess up," she began, but stopped herself. "But that's not going to happen." I hope. She opened the back door and tossed the bread into the yard. She brushed crumbs off her hands and then turned to survey the kitchen, her favorite room. A twinge of fear wheedled through her. She felt safe here in the cottage. If it weren't for Gracie's disastrous predicament, she wouldn't be leaving tomorrow. "It is strange. I feel like I just got here and I'm already leaving."

Meghan leaned across the table, her arm propped up her head. "Hey, look on the bright side. You could screw up and be back in a week."

"Don't even go there." Quinlan shot Meghan a glare that could drop birds without stones. "I've got to finish packing."

On her knees and head buried in her cedar chest, Quinlan rummaged through her belongings.

"Hey, did you see...." Meghan halted as she entered the bedroom. "Geez, looks like a war zone."

Quinlan heaved herself out of the chest, a scarf dangling from her eyegla.s.s chain. "See what?"

Meghan dropped onto the bed. "What is all this?"

Quinlan wrestled the scarf free, fell back on her heels and blew hair out of her face. Ignoring the question, she pointed to a neon orange postcard clutched in Meghan's hand. "What is that?" she asked.

"Ruby." Meghan waved the card. "She wants you to call before you leave."

Quinlan stuck her head back into the chest. "Have you seen my raincoat?"

"Do ya think it's going to matter? Really?"

"You're right." Nerves frazzled, Quinlan felt like her finger had been jammed in a light socket.

"What did you mean earlier about maybe a week?"

Quinlan mentally cursed. She knew she shouldn't have mentioned that. "Well, I'll kind of be on probation at first. You know, because I'm going back so soon."

"So you'll be watched?"

"Yeah, like a babysitter." Quinlan folded a few sweaters she'd pulled out.

Meghan sighed relief, hollowing out a seat from the pile of clothes beneath her. "That's the best news I've heard since you dropped this bombsh.e.l.l."

Quinlan shot her sister the stink-eye.

"Geez, don't give me the eye treatment. Just tell me about the probation thing."

"Once I'm there, I have to follow protocol and stay close to my ground patrol, whatever that is. As soon as they decide I'm potty-trained, I'll get my big-girl panties. Then, I'll be cleared to be on my own." Quinlan spoke with more confidence than she felt. "After that, I make a contact call back here once every couple of days." She sat back on her heels, eyeing the neck pillow in her hands. "Should I take this? You know what long trips do to my neck."

Meghan shook her head. "Again...seriously?"

Quinlan tossed the pillow aside. "You're not helping."

"Sorry," Meghan said. "Not another negative word." She crossed her heart and mimed zipping her mouth shut.