Page 88 of Just Let Go

For a moment, her mind wandered back. She could practically see her nine-year-old self sitting on the porch of their small bungalow, a house her father had bought for her mother because “she loved the porch and the swing and the way it made her feel cozy.”

Before her mother had left, Quinn had spent her afternoons atthe flower shop, but the first few years after they’d sold it to Mimi, she spent them in the other place she thought maybe her mother would miss—their front porch.

One Saturday, she put on her very best church dress, brought her dolls outside along with her pink floral lunchbox, and stared across the street at the neighbors’ house. After about half an hour, when all her snacks were gone, her resolve started to waver. That’s when her father showed up.

He sat down next to her, and even though she hadn’t told him what she was doing, Quinn was pretty sure he knew.

“Nice day out here.” He nudged her shoulder with his.

“I’m a little cold,” she said.

“Maybe you should come in.”

Quinn shrugged.

“You don’t want to?”

Another shrug.

He wrapped his arm around her. “Maybe I’ll just hang out with you for a little while, then.”

They’d sat there for at least another hour, and while he never said so, she was sure he was giving her space to miss her mom without ever saying a word.

Carly was right. Some days Quinn still felt like she was sitting on that porch. Stuck in time because the pain of her past had wrapped itself around her ankles and kept her from moving on. And while she wasn’t an angry person, she was angry about this. Because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that her mother left when she needed her most. It wasn’t fair that while other girls and their mothers went shopping for school clothes, Quinn had opted for Carly’s hand-me-downs because it was easier than admitting she needed someone to teach her how to put an outfit together or go shopping for a bra.

It wasn’t fair that the woman she’d spent the first eight years of her life idolizing cared so little about her that she could simply walk away and never look back. Did her mother ever think about what she’d done—about the daughters she’d left behind? Or was she soengrossed in a new family and a fancy new life that she’d convinced herself her choice had been warranted?

Quinn needed to know. She deserved to know. It was like a giant puzzle had been set in front of her, but she hadn’t been given all the pieces.

How would she ever feel truly whole again?

CHAPTER

21

GRADY NEVER SHOULD’VE LOOKED AT HIS SOCIAL MEDIA.Hadn’t he learned this by now? He recognized the reporter almost immediately. She’d been at the lodge the day before, and while he’d noticed her staring at him, he’d assumed she was just another fan.

He should’ve known better. Lately, he had to wonder if, outside of Harbor Pointe, he had any fans left at all. Funny how quickly people turned on you when things looked bleak. Did he have a single real relationship in his life?

His phone buzzed against the white coffee table. Probably Pete. Again. He’d already called twice, but he could sweat this one out. Grady didn’t like being his last priority, and he really didn’t like being blindsided by all this social media stuff his manager hadn’t bothered to tell him about.

But what really had him on edge were the sound bites from his old teammates, dismissing him as if he were yesterday’s news. Everyone had made up their mind about him—they’d all but moved him out, like a scorned woman throwing his belongings on the front lawn.

He stood up and padded his way into the kitchen. It was almost noon, and he was unshowered and still in the sweatpants he’d worn to bed. He poured his third cup of coffee and opened the refrigerator, even though he knew if he wanted to eat, he was going to have to leave the cottage.

Was it laziness or humiliation that made that idea so unappealing?

He’d just settled back onto the couch when the doorbell rang. In the week he’d been here, he’d had no visitors, and honestly he preferred it that way. Maybe if he didn’t make a sound they’d go away.

But then the knocking started.

He set the coffee mug down on the table and pulled his Captain America T-shirt on as he walked toward the door.

Through the window, he could see blonde hair and long legs on the porch waiting for him.Amber? No, Ashley.Ashley something-or-other from the bar. And the pizza joint. She certainly was persistent.

He pulled open the door and she gave him a once-over. “I bet you just woke up.”

“I’ve been up for a while,” Grady said. “What are you doing here?”

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