Page 14 of On My Side (Quiblings #3)

Audrey

Playlist: I Want to Hold Your Hand | Kate McGill

A little over fourteen years ago, Piper took her first steps.

She’d kept me up all night, screaming, and refusing to settle.

Out of pure desperation, and a need to get out of the house, I carried her to the beach as the sun rose over the sound.

When she’d pushed herself to her feet and swayed, I’d gotten to my own feet and taken two steps backward, just to see.

To my surprise, this wobbling little creature took two tiny steps forward before falling back on her butt.

She’d stared up at me expectantly, like she had done it because she knew I needed it.

Knew I needed something to remind me life could be good.

While nothing will ever beat that moment, my hand enveloped in Ren’s for the entirety of this concert is a new moment I’ll remember on the days when the darkness is too much. When I need help remembering there is some good in the world, and it’s happened to me.

As the lights come on at the end of the concert, he and I get to our feet like everyone else in the concert hall. Unlike everyone else, we aren’t clapping. And despite my expectations, his hand is still firmly clasping mine, filling me with a warm feeling I’ve only ever dreamed of.

“Did you like it, Mom?”

I am the worst mother in the world. I almost forgot my kid is next to me.

I quickly glance at our clasped hands and pull mine away. I pretend not to notice the way he flexes his hand before he shoves it into his pocket. I quickly turn away and face Piper.

“I did!” I tell her, an all-too-real smile on my face. “It was great.”

“Which score was your favorite?” she asks.

Oh. That’s… not what made the concert enjoyable.

“Hey,” Ren leans across me and grins brightly at Piper. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it!” Piper squeals, clasping her hands together. “It made me want to watch the movies they’re from! The music told a story all on its own.”

“Yes!” Ren says enthusiastically, and I don’t know, being sandwiched between these two adorable nerds may be the second best thing to happen tonight. “That’s what a good score or soundtrack should do. John Williams is one of the greats, for sure.”

Ren gives Piper her earplug case back as we file out of our row and into the lobby. Ren excuses himself to run to the restroom, and Piper and I wait in the lobby.

I’m checking my work email when she clears her throat. I raise a brow. “Yes?”

“You never answered my question,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

I sigh and slip my phone into my bag. “Remind me again what the question was?”

“Which score was your favorite?”

“I’ll always love the Indiana Jones theme,” I say, remembering it definitely was played.

Piper’s face falls. “Damn, I’d been hoping you were making out with Mr. Q and weren’t paying attention.”

“You what ?”

“Hey,” Ren slips in next to me, and I almost jump out of my skin. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but my landlord called. The apartment above mine flooded, and they’re worried about a leak.”

My stomach flips. I’ve dealt with flooding at the inn, and the worst part is dealing with any damage done to the room below.

“I have to bring you home so I can get my stuff out,” he continues, jaw clenched.

“Where are you going to stay?” Piper asks, eyes wide and voice laced with concern.

Ren blinks at her, and fidgets with the gold chain around his neck. He’s flustered, like he hadn’t thought about it yet.

“I… uh. I have family in town. I’ll see if one of them can… will let me…”

“You should stay at the inn! Mom can comp you a room!” Piper exclaims.

I try to express the murderous feelings in my chest to her silently, but her eyes are locked on Ren.

This child, I swear to god.

Ren is even more flustered and taken aback by Piper’s offer. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Sure you could,” Piper says breezily, walking towards the doors. “Since you taught me for free, I think it’s the least we could do.”

I glare holes in the back of her head. She could at least try to matchmake subtly.

“That would… uh…” Ren stammers as he and I trail after Piper. “That wouldn’t work. I have a cat…”

Piper spins around, eyes wide as saucers. “You do ? I love cats! Mom keeps saying she’ll get me one, but the fact I am still cat-less is one of the biggest disappointments of my life. Why don’t you take the room and I’ll cat sit for you? I have references.”

Ren looks at me, and I know he’s giving me the opportunity to think of a reason Piper’s plan wouldn’t work out. But, I could easily comp him a room for a few days until he can go back to his place. Frankly, she’s right, he’s done so much for us… it really is the least I could do.

“I’d be happy to comp you a stay, if you want,” I say quietly, averting my eyes. “Piper can watch your cat, if you’re okay with it.”

“That’s… Audrey.” He grabs my wrist as I start to move toward the door, and I’m sent back to fifteen minutes ago when he was holding my hand in the dark theater. “That’s way too much to ask of you.”

I smile, and beg my stomach to settle itself. “You’re not asking, I’m offering.”

His eyes search mine. “Would you have offered if Piper didn’t volunteer your generosity?”

“That’s not fair, I just didn’t think about it right away. You can pay me back by telling all the moms they have to book a weekend. Your endorsement would be more effective than a damn billboard.”

A slow, soft smile spreads across his face. This man has several different smiles, and they seem so genuine, so real. It’s baffling.

“Promise?” He releases my wrist and holds up a pinkie.

I’m flooded with memories of me doing the same thing to him one time when he caught me sneaking out of Kat’s room one night.

Little Ren Quinn with a suspicious expression on his bespectacled face, pinkie-promising not to tell anyone as long as I got him a chocolate-covered banana milkshake from Queenie’s.

We’d both made good on our promises, and I think we can do it again.

“Promise,” I say, hooking my pinkie around his.

Piper and I wait in the car when Ren goes into his apartment to gather his belongings.

“I know what you’re doing,” I say, not looking up from the text I’m shooting the night manager on duty. “You’re not slick, missy.”

“What am I doing?” she asks from the backseat, voice saccharine and one-hundred percent untrustworthy.

I pause my typing for a moment. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m certain of why you’re doing it. You’re not Lindsay Lohan, and Mr. Q isn’t your dad, weirdo. Why are you Parent-Trapping us?”

I hear Piper unbuckle her seatbelt and feel her breath on my ear as she leans forward. “Mr. Q? Don’t you mean Re-en?” She sing-songs his name, dragging it out so it has several syllables.

“You’re the worst,” I grumble, playfully thwacking at the hand she planted on my shoulder. She moves it quickly enough that I end up hitting myself instead.

“When should I start calling him ‘Dad’?” she wonders aloud.

“Whenever he adopts you, ‘cuz I’m done with you,” I fire back.

She cackles.

I fight back a smile, and fail. This damn kid.

“Piper, where is this coming from?” I ask gently, unbuckling my seatbelt and turning in my seat to face her

“You seem happy when you’re together—I didn’t know you could smile this big, Mama.” Damn her, she knows calling me ‘Mama’ is a foolproof way to make me tear up. “And you both look at each other like… like Luke looks at Lorelai the whole damn series.”

“Real life doesn’t work like a TV show,” I say quietly, reaching back and brushing a rogue strand of hair out of her face. “You don’t just… find your person at a diner and become happy.”

“You’re right. Sometimes you find them teaching your daughter piano.”

I sigh. “Piper…”

“Why don’t you want to be happy, Mama?”

“I am happy, birdie. I’m always happy with you.”

“You literally have depression.”

“And you think dating your piano teacher will cure me?” I ask, voice laced with confusion.

She sighs heavily. “No. You’re happy enough, but you deserve to smile all the time the way you do when he makes a crappy joke. You deserve to be looked at like you hung the moon. The way he ran to get his sweater for you? You’re the one who always runs to get your sweater to give to me.”

“Birdie,” I reach for her hand and she takes mine with surprising speed.

“I love you. So much. And I’m grateful you want me to be happy and be treated well.

But Ren and I don’t have any sort of relationship beyond him being your piano teacher.

But Eva wants me to make friends, and I could see Ren being one. But that’s it, nothing more.”

“All I’m saying is I wouldn’t be mad if you became more,” she says quietly, squeezing my hand.

“I think you’re trying to set boundaries with me as your kid, and failing terribly, and that’s cool.

I’ll respect that. But I don’t know. You’re allowed to be more than my mom.

You’re allowed to be Audrey and to find happiness that isn’t me.

You’re my favorite person in the world, you know? I want you to be more than happy.”

I blink back the threatening tears flooding my eyes. “What’s more than happy?”

She squeezes my hand again. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

The door to Ren’s apartment building opens in my peripheral vision, and he comes out holding a cat carrier, a backpack strapped to his back. “If you say so, birdie.”

She doesn’t respond, just lets out a high pitched squeal as she pushes the door open and tumbles out. “Is that your cat?” Piper asks Ren excitedly.

“Yep,” Ren says, holding the carrier so Piper can peek in, similar to a proud father holding his baby’s car seat up.

My stomach twists as that image forces itself into my brain.

Ren with a baby— his baby—with a beautiful partner next to him, reaping the rewards of the hot dad forearms he’ll inevitably have.

I hate this hypothetical human.

“What’s her name?” Piper asks, pulling me out of my maladaptive daydream.

“Princess Leia, but I only add the Princess when she’s gnawing on my snake plant.” I try to stifle my giggle behind my hand. Of course this dweeb named his cat after Carrie Fisher’s character in Star Wars .

“Mom does that too, adds the ‘Elise’ when I’m in trouble,” Piper informs him.

He grins. “When I’m in trouble, I still get the ‘Lorenzo Christopher’ treatment. Hate to tell you it never goes away.”

“Can she hang out in the back seat with me?” my daughter asks, seemingly ignoring his anecdote.

“Sure thing, Pipe,” he answers, handing her the cat carrier. “She might be shy at first, but she’s sweeter than pie when she’s used to you.”

Meanwhile, I’m becoming a pile of goo at hearing him call Piper “Pipe.” No one else calls her that besides me, and maybe I should be jealous, like he’s inserting himself in my relationship with my daughter.

But I feel bright joy washing over me at the fact Piper has someone else who wants to shorten her name, like they might be different, they might want to stick around.

Is this what Piper meant by more than happy? This light, airy feeling of joy and security and gratitude that exists simply because of Ren shortening her name?

If so, I’m fucked.