Chapter 18

Tyler

The plane swept along the runway, landing me back out east. In the days that had followed their dramatic offer—to join the partners in San Francisco full time—I’d been consumed with a mixture of worry and endless work. I’d been texting with Rachel, of course—often video chatting in the mornings, before her class and after Quinn dropped her off. She gabbed endlessly about how much she loved Quinn, about the activities they’d done together and the fact that she was edging toward working on a bug presentation for her big science project, due in a few weeks’ time.

But I hadn’t spoken with Quinn.

It was a tricky line. If I was going to move across the continent, I didn’t want to get her involved. It was going to be messy, encouraging Marnie that this was the proper path for all of us.

The moment I took my phone off Airplane mode, the messages came barreling through. Texts. Voicemails. Poised at the edge of my business class seat, my eyes searched the stewardess’s as if she could tell me what to do.

Hey. Tyler. If you could call me as soon as you get this.

Just wanted to check in. Sorry I keep calling. I know you’re in the air.

I raced ahead of the other business passengers, stabbing my roll suitcase in front of them like the assholes I normally complained about, and then raced down the aisle, into the hum of the airport. I felt agitated like all the lights were too bright and the people around me spoke too loudly. Bolting to the side of the hall, I lifted my phone to my ear and dialed Quinn back. She answered in the middle of the second ring.

“Tyler,” she said, her voice sharp.

“Quinn? What’s going on? I didn’t have a chance to listen to the messages.”

“Tyler, I’m so sorry. We’re at the hospital. She’s getting tested. I’m—I can’t even tell you how sorry I am.”

My heart dropped into the acid of my stomach, giving me immediate heartburn. I stretched my hand over my chest, rubbing it, feeling the bones beneath the muscle.

“What happened?”

“A small fire. She inhaled some smoke, so I panicked and took her here. They just took her back, saying they want to run some tests. I don’t think she’ll be long. I hope.” She trailed off for a long time, gasping as quietly as she could. “But Tyler, she wants to see you. When she’s out, you should be here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

I couldn’t keep track of my thoughts after I hung up. I felt the stomp of my feet across the floor, the heaviness of my bag across my chest. I’d parked the truck in the first lot, and once I spotted it in the distance I bolted toward it, my shoulders twitching left and right as I ran. In the years since she’d been born Rachel had had the flu a few times. That stomach flu, a few weeks before. A cold that had nearly destroyed me with fear when she’d been three. And a case of the chicken pox when she was eight. But she’d never been in an accident before. Not even at her mother’s house—despite Marnie’s negligence.

And now, in the company of Quinn, she was at the hospital.

Every red light felt like three hours. No car could drive fast enough for me. I rushed around them, passing along the center line, and wound my way toward the Raleigh hospital. As an after-thought, knowing she needed to be informed, I dialed Marnie’s number and waited, waited, until she answered on the fourth ring.

“Yes?” she demanded. I could hear the clatter of a bar around her.

“Marnie,” I said, my voice sounding strange in my throat. How do parents exchange this information? How do they use English to say such horrible things? “I wanted to let you know that Rachel is at the hospital getting checked out. She’s in the emergency room. If you want to—“

“I haven’t heard anything from you… In days! I haven’t heard anything regarding the custody payments,” Marnie growled, speaking over me. “And now, you put our daughter in the hospital? Or was it that bimbo you’ve had watching her?”

I had said it before I thought it through. “Technically, Marnie, you’re supposed to be fucking watching her when I’m away—“

“Fuck you,” Marnie screamed. “I’m heading to the hospital now. And you better have the custody check ready for me when I arrive. I’ll think again before I allow our daughter in you or your girlfriend’s care. And I’ll make sure to tell Will about this, as well.”

Will was our custody lawyer, a guy we’d met in college, whom Marnie had had a brief fling with. Despite his assurance that he was committed to both of us, I’d always suspected his ‘thing’ for Marnie had never gone away.

It was the reason why I didn’t yet have full custody of Rachel. Why my checks to Marnie continued to fly in. Why I felt I didn’t have much wiggle room. She could toss her complaints to Will, just like that, and then Rachel could be in her clutches for good.

And yet, I needed to convince him that Rachel’s moving across the country was a good decision for all of us.

When I reached the hospital, I parked in the visitor section, near the emergency room, and walked like a ghost in the emergency waiting room. Quinn was seated in the very center. Her hair gleamed beneath the bright light of the waiting room, making her look almost angelic. Yet her face, crumpled with worry, ripped my heart to shreds. When I reached her, she peered up at me, unable to say anything but, “Hello.”

I sat beside her, not able to touch her. A force field was between us, causing me to bring my hands to my lap in a sort of prayer form. I could hear her breathing. It was jagged and edged with tears. It told me everything I needed to know; that she cared about my little girl more than anyone else, besides me.

“Have you seen the doctor yet?” I finally asked her, my eyes twitching.

“They haven’t come back out yet, no,” Quinn answered. She drew her hair behind her ears in a nervous twitch, one she often did around me. “Tyler, I’m so sorry. I was distracted and—“

I held up my hand. I splayed its width against her small hand on her lap, linking us. I wasn’t sure how much longer this could go on.

“Listen,” I began. “You did a good thing today. You really did. Taking her here. Making sure she was all right, after the accident. I’m not angry.”

Quinn bowed her head, gazing down at my fingers. It was as if she were trying to memorize them, to capture what it felt like to hold my hand.

“I’ve been offered a full-time gig out in San Francisco,” I said, unable to draw a line between this disaster and that coming one. “I need to convince our lawyer that it’s a good idea for Rachel to leave North Carolina behind. I need to convince him that she shouldn’t spend even a small part of the week with her mother. That she’s a danger to her.”

“She doesn’t even love her,” Quinn whispered, her eyes still staring straight ahead. “I spoke with her. Tried to understand her. But she just brushed me off away, asking for money from you. I can’t stand that woman. And the fact that she’s her mother, that she has more power over you…”

“I might need your help,” I said, sliding my thumb over the softness of her skin. I sensed a flicker of sexual desire in her eyes. “I might need you to talk to him. You’ve been the only other person involved in Rachel’s life, lately. And she needs you, now.”

“I’ll do whatever I can,” Quinn whispered. “Even if it means I can’t see you again.”

“It’s probably better if we—“

“You don’t have to say it again,” Quinn said, cutting me off.

Rachel appeared in the doorway of the emergency room. A doctor followed behind her, dressed in a fresh, plaster white coat, and guiding her toward Quinn and I. The doctor spoke to her kindly, peering down at her behind thick glasses. I began to hear him as they approached.

“Don’t you worry about it. I promise. Accidents happen all the time. The important thing is that your lungs are fine. Now, promise me you won’t start smoking in the next few years, and we’re even.”

“Smoking?” Rachel scoffed, her old self. “I would never, Doctor. It’s disgusting. Do you even know what it does to you on a cellular level?”

The doctor chuckled. I stood, taking three long strides toward Rachel and wrapping my arms around her. Immediately, her sob rose into my ear, a reminder that she wasn’t as old as she always pretended to be. I felt her arms around my waist, her nose pressed into my stomach. The doctor crossed his arms, giving me a grandfather-like smile.

“She said Quinn got her away from the smoke,” the doctor affirmed. “I’m assuming this young lady beside you is Quinn?”

Quinn nodded exactly once, unable to take the credit she deserved.

“No damage, then?” I asked the doctor.

“None that I can see. She might want to take it easy for a bit. No running in the gym, that sort of thing,” he said. “I’ve written her a doctor’s note for that. She’s pleased. Says she can put in more time on her science project. You’ve got yourself a little genius here, Mr. Renner.”

I found myself going through the motions. I gave the front desk our insurance information and smiled when it was assumed I should smile. A moment later I was back beside Rachel and Quinn, feeling that my heart was complete in a way that it hadn’t been for a very long time. I chuckled, shaking my head in fake-disappointment.

“You girls. I can’t leave you scientists alone. The minute I do, you want to set fire to the whole house.”

Rachel pressed her lips into a small, embarrassed smile. “I was trying to make toast. The garlic kind you like.”

I instantly thought of the memories of showing Rachel how to drape a thick coat of butter over the bread, then dribbling it with garlic salt. It was our version of ‘cooking.’ And the fact that she’d been doing it for me, while I’d spent the majority of the previous few weeks away, made my heart melt.

“But then sparks started flying!” she continued, growing more animated. “We haven’t covered the electrical unit in science yet. But I think, if we're honest here, Daddy, this was Thomas Edison’s fault. He should have trusted Tesla.”

“How on earth do you already know about that?” Quinn laughed, wrapping her arms around Rachel. “You’re getting too smart for your own good.” Her eyes connected with mine, making me regret that I’d divided us again.

I had felt Marnie’s presence before I heard her. I couldn’t quite describe it, but it was something about her aura. A darkness passed through me, making my smile literally cave in. My head flipped toward the door, finding her and Greg darting toward us. They looked scuffed up, half-drunk, with Marnie’s eyes filled with unadulterated rage.

Rachel curled against Quinn, looking frightened. The minute Marnie reached us, it was Rachel who piped up first. “Mommy. I didn’t mean to do it. I was trying to make dinner.”

Was this really how she felt in front of her mother? Did she really cower like this, when I wasn’t around? I stood gruffly, positioning my hands on either side of my waist. But Marnie, who stood almost a foot shorter than me, tried to stand her ground.

“You think I’m frightened of you or something?” she said sharply. Her voice was overly loud, forcing the rest of the waiting room to look at us. A boy with a broken arm and his mother darted their eyes away the moment I caught them, trying to give us privacy, while a grandfatherly looking man sipped his soda and narrowed his eyes. A few nurses at the station bobbed their heads together, speaking conspiratorially about us. After so many years of trying to stay civil, at least on my side, we were suddenly the best ticket in town.

“Marnie. Do you have to make a scene here?” I asked, my voice growing dark. I knew I appeared like the villain.

“I do have to make a scene here,” she spat. “My daughter was involved in a fire and taken to the hospital. And her father thinks it’s okay to just leave her at home alone—“

“She wasn’t alone,” I said, growing taller. The mother near us brought her hand against the broken arm kid’s cheek, trying to soothe him.

“Well, she might as well have been,” Marnie barked. “And I don’t know why you’ve been withholding your custody payments. If you don’t let me take Rachel home right now—“ She stammered, her nostrils flared. “I’m going to get Will here this minute. And what do you think he’ll say, about a girl who ended up in the hospital while her father was off on the west coast? What power do you really think you have, Tyler?”

I felt slapped. I wanted to raise my voice, to scream at her—to thrust her across the room and demand that she act like a normal human. To ask that she thinks about her daughter, for once in her miserable life. But again, the entire waiting room seemed to hinge on her words.

Rachel lifted herself from her chair, onto spindly legs. Quinn’s eyes were filled with tears. I heard Rachel’s tight, simple words.

“Okay, Mom. Let’s just go home, okay?”

Rachel’s head draped down, dragging her chin against her chest. I held the folders from the doctor in my hand and still clung to them, waiting to see if Marnie would ask for them. But she just flipped her head back toward me, saying in a hiss, “If you don’t get that check to me by the end of this week, Tyler. I swear to God.”

Quinn and I sat, despondent, our faces flat and our mouths open, as Marnie and Greg led Rachel back into the darkness of the evening, toward their car. After a long, horrible moment of silence, I lifted the plastic cup from the chair’s cup holder and crumpled it, knowing this wouldn’t be enough to quell my anger. Perhaps nothing would. Slowly, Quinn crept her fingers toward my knee, draping her warm hand across my thigh. We sat, linked, for several minutes.

“She wouldn’t have even come if it weren’t for the custody check,” Quinn finally stated, giving a voice to what was going through my mind. “Is there any way around this?”

But I didn’t want to talk about it. Not now. Breaking the bond between us, I stood up and jangled my keys, giving her a shrug. “I think I’ll head home.”

“But Tyler—“ Quinn began, her eyes shimmering. “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

But the rage felt volatile now. I wanted to slam my fist into something. The wall. The blackened toaster. Beyond my daughter’s accident, I was rattled from my emotions for Quinn, emotions I knew would ultimately have to be ignored, in order to find a better life for Rachel and I. A better life I wasn’t entirely sure could be possible, due to Marnie’s close-knit relationship with our lawyer.

I felt fucking wretched. And I didn’t want Quinn to be around to see me face the brunt of the horror within me.