At Your Most Beautiful, Harper Bliss [books to get back into reading .TXT] 📗

damage. And she had to find out some day. She might as well start processing now. The sooner she started, the better, because she would probably take her sweet time.

Quinn was still drumming her fingers on the steering wheel when she zipped up the driveway. It was almost noon on Saturday. They should be home although Quinn was no longer that familiar with their routines.

She let herself in through the front door and dropped her overnight bag in the hall. She wasn’t sure whether she’d be staying. That would all depend on how the day went, but she hadn’t wanted to rule it out, even though it meant she and Maya couldn’t go dancing tonight. Maya hadn’t seemed to mind that all too much—she had a babysitting date with Ethan tonight.

“Hello?” Quinn said. The house was silent. She went into the kitchen, which was empty. Maybe they were out shopping. But the door to the back garden was open. Quinn walked out and stopped dead in her tracks. Her parents were lost in an intimate embrace, their lips locked and their eyes closed. Her first instinct was to recoil and retreat back into the house, but she made herself linger and watch. In a way, it was lovely to see that they still had so much affection for each other.

After a few moments, Quinn’d had enough and she cleared her throat noisily.

Her mother jerked out of her father’s embrace as though she’d been caught red-handed carrying out the most vicious crime.

“Darling! What a surprise.” She straightened her shirt and walked over. “We weren’t expecting you this weekend. Or did I get the dates wrong?” She curled an arm around Quinn’s shoulders. “Not that it isn’t a delight to see you.” She pecked Quinn on the cheek. Her father must not have told her about talking to Maya on the phone. If he had, Quinn would have received a much frostier welcome from her mother.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Her dad had come over and put his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Great to see you.”

“Did you drive? I would have picked you up, you know.” Her mother went into the house.

“I’ll make us some lunch,” her dad said, but remained outside. “I have a feeling I’m the reason you’re here,” he whispered.

“That’s right, Dad,” Quinn said. She was glad that he was the first to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry about speaking to Maya like that. I don’t know what came over me. I just… got this vision of you in tears and I dealt with it poorly.”

“A vision? Are you clairvoyant now?”

“Whether you like it or not, Quinn, I’m always going to worry about you. I know you’re still fragile about what happened with Morgan.”

“I don’t understand why you keep bringing up Morgan. That’s been over for months. I’m with Maya now.”

Her father walked deeper into the garden. Quinn followed him.

“Are you sure this whole thing with Maya isn’t a reaction to how things ended with Morgan? It would be totally normal for you to… attach yourself to someone kind of familiar like that.”

Quinn hated it when her dad practiced his armchair psychology on her. Of course, he didn’t know what had happened between his daughter and his neighbor ten years ago, and Quinn wasn’t about to tell him.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure, Dad. As sure as I can be at this stage.” She dramatically huffed out some air. “I’m in love with her and I’m pretty sure she’s in love with me. It could just be as simple as that.”

Her dad shook his head. “There’s nothing simple about the whole thing. It’s infinitely complex. I’ve been trying to get my head around it since you told me about Maya, but I can’t figure it out, Quinn. Unless you’re going through a mid-thirties rebellious stage. Although you rebelled plenty already when you were a teenager.” He rubbed his full, gray beard.

“Dad, please stop doing that. Stop analyzing me.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

“Accept it,” Quinn said.

Her dad sighed. “That’s the thing, sweetheart. I’m not sure I can do that.” He shot her a look that didn’t inspire much confidence in Quinn that he might change his mind any time soon—despite what he had claimed when Quinn had first told him about Maya. “Shall we go in? Your mother will be wondering what we’re talking about out here.”

Quinn nodded. There wasn’t much else she could do.

Quinn was lounging in a deck chair outside, enjoying the silence of Milbury and trying not to get too worked up about what her father had said before lunch. She heard noises coming from the house where Maya used to live—the house where it had all started.

“What’s going on, darling?” her mom asked as she sat down in the chair next to Quinn’s. “You arrive home out of the blue. You hardly ate anything at lunch. And there’s this weird vibe between you and your dad that I can’t put my finger on.”

Great. An inquisition by her mother was all Quinn needed. She was still trying to digest what her dad had said to her earlier. For as long as she could remember in her thirty-four years alive, her dad had always given her his unconditional acceptance. No questions asked. Why couldn’t he do it now? Was Quinn expecting too much of him? Or was it him not trying hard enough to give his only daughter the benefit of the doubt?

“All I can say is that… I disappointed him, and he disappointed me. Things are a bit tense because of that.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Mom.” Quinn shook her head. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Her mother took a deep breath. Then she said, “Is it about Maya?”

Every last one of Quinn’s muscles tensed up. “What? Um, what are you talking about?”

“I know your father spoke to her on the phone earlier this week. He’s been out of sorts ever since. You were with her when he talked to her. I’m just drawing