Saving Gracie Part 18

CHAPTER 22.

QUINLAN.

Her obsession with accessing the Earth homepage paralleled Quinlan's fixation on Gracie; an online junkie: an old lady online junkie...shameful.

She'd almost been busted twice, which had her radar on high alert. Ruby had caught her at the computer one day. Fortunately she had bookmarked the Food Network homepage and quickly switched to a Barefoot Contessa live stream segment. Another time she failed to notice the approaching tap-tap-tap and swore she had a mini stroke when George pa.s.sed behind her, his cane leading the way. She had no idea if he noticed what she was up to. Only after he turned the corner did she break out of freeze-frame and release the air locked in her lungs.

The online snippets Quinlan pieced together escalated her determination to return. Gracie's life appeared to be in shambles. Her mission to save her daughter took on a life of its own, controlling her every thought. Somehow, she had to get back.

Quinlan read, took notes and plotted her strategy between cla.s.ses or at night after Meghan had gone to bed. Her major, Where Do We Go From Here, turned out to be a relatively decent option, giving her some insight on choices others make at this time, and would have been even better if she'd been more diligent about cla.s.s attendance.

She spent countless hours working on exercises from the book, How We Connect. "Sending Signals" seemed easy. Not so. After each attempt to connect with Gracie, she'd sneak off to the library to see if any of her experiments worked. She could zip her CI card as efficiently as cha-chinging the arm on a nickel slot machine. But nothing she found gave her a clue whether Gracie received any of her signals.

Locked in her room late one night, Quinlan read over the list she'd made from Rules of Return Engagement.

-Get return packet (check) -Complete and turn in packet (check) -Receive permission to appear before the Advisory Council -Present case at scheduled time (be prepared!) -Tell Meghan She'd made a decent start on her case presentation, which eased her apprehension...a little. The rest of the time she resorted to the one thing she used to do when nervous. Quinlan cleaned. The kitchen pantry, her closet-she even washed and ironed the kitchen curtains. She had to stay busy while waiting to hear when and if she'd get to meet with the Advisory Council. Her nerves wouldn't be so raw if only she could talk this over with Meghan. She stopped, mid-swipe of yet another layer of lemon polish on the kitchen table and weighed the scenario.

"Nope." She shook her head. "Not yet."

Meghan would blow a fuse, no doubt. However, the fact remained Quinlan had always been able to untangle Gracie's life dilemmas. Even Meghan couldn't deny that. Pulling a small notebook from her pocket, she reread her reasons to return to Earth.

-Gracie sleeps too much (could she have mono?) -Why all the take-out food? (she has all my recipes) -Adam's trip to Chicago (he left Gracie in charge?) -Hannah has a boyfriend (can't approve, haven't met him) -Hasn't had piano tuned (not really time for one, but still...) -She messed up the bean recipe (how can someone screw up beans?) "What a mess." Quinlan shook her head. "I can't believe I left her. She's clueless." The list fueled her motivation to push forward with her plan. She closed the notebook. "That's all there is to it. She needs me."

A week after submitting the packet, Quinlan received the letter. Her heart flip-flopped. She s.n.a.t.c.hed the envelope from the mailbox and shoved it deep into her pants pocket. She'd have to wait till later to read it. Each tick of the clock seemed like a day. With the nervous energy of a cat with its tail on fire Quinlan power-weeded her garden and cleaned the cottage down to scrubbing the baseboards, all the while feeling the envelope as if it burned a hole in her pocket.

After hearing Meghan's door close for the night, she locked herself in her room and sat crossed-legged in the middle of the bed. She counted to 100, trying to calm herself, but skipped through nearly half the numbers. She tore open the envelope, her pulse pounding in her ears.

You have been granted permission to present your case presentation before the Advisory Council two weeks from today's date.

12:00 Noon "Yes!" She covered her mouth, afraid of waking her sister. One step closer to her goal. The only remaining obstacle? Actually being awarded the a.s.signment. Oh yeah, and telling Meghan.

The following evening Quinlan sat on the porch with her sister. Small billowy clouds splashed sunset colors across the early evening sky. She positioned herself in a high-back rattan chair and crocheted, anything to keep her hands occupied. Meghan sat in the porch swing, flipping through The Guardian, the local newspaper.

Quinlan breathed slowly to tame her mind and lessen her heart pounding in her ears. "Beautiful evening." A feeble conversation attempt.

"Uh-huh," Meghan mused, her head stuck in the paper.

Then...the bomb dropped. The "beautiful" evening part vanished like a magician waving his wand.

"What!" Meghan shrieked. "You're kidding me, right? Tell me this is a joke!"

The shrill of Meghan's voice jolted Quinlan, the crochet needle flying out of her hand. She grabbed her heart. "Good grief Meghan! You scared me."

Meghan's jaw went slack and then clamped back tight, her eyes round and bulging. "I said...tell me this is a joke." She stood, waving The Guardian in Quinlan's face.

"Tell you what?" An uncomfortable tingle trickled down her spine. The pounding in her ears escalated.

"This says," Meghan paused, jabbing at the newspaper, "that you've requested a return trip to Earth."

Quinlan shot up, pulling out her innocent act. "What? Where does it say that?"

"Right here. Under Public Notices." Meghan pointed to a column on the bottom of page five.

"Let me see that." Quinlan enunciated every word, trying for indignant. She grabbed the paper and gulped when she saw her name in print. She had no idea her request would become public forum.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Meghan barked. "Oh, as in 'oh, that's crazy', or 'oh, there's something I've been meaning to tell you'?"

Quinlan twisted her neck until she felt a pop and winced. Not from the self-adjustment, but what was sure to come next. She paused to clear her throat. "The second oh."

"The second? Sit your b.u.t.t down and start talking, Missy."

Obediently, Quinlan sat. She hadn't heard that tone since she and her best friend Courtney, both age seven, used Meghan's favorite red lipstick to color their face and arms for Valentine's Day. Her sister had been furious...similar to now.

Quinlan eased down beside Meghan on the swing. "It's no big deal, really." She waved her hand over the small white lie.

"No big deal? Are you insane? And worse yet, why am I reading about it in the newspaper?"

The questions stumbled over each other, leaving little room for Quinlan to interject. She jumped in as soon as Meghan took a breath. "I didn't want to upset you. And I was right. See? You're upset." Quinlan crossed her arms to make a point.

"Upset? Why would I be upset?" Meghan threw the newspaper onto the porch.

Quinlan watched as the pages of The Guardian refolded in a neat pile. Littering...not allowed.

"You finally get here, for what...four months? And you already want to go back?" Meghan dropped her hands in her lap and paused, deliberating. "Now, why would I be upset?"

"Calm down. I know it's unusual but-"

"Unusual, she says."

"That's my point." Quinlan talked fast. "You know I've always done things my own way." She looked at Meghan for a reaction. "I just thought it would be something different to try." Less of a lie?

"Different?" Meghan stood, pacing the length of the porch. "Quinlan, it's not done. Do you understand what I'm saying? It's just not done."

"I know it's not normal." As if any of this is normal.

"Listen to me." Meghan sat back down and grabbed Quinlan's hands. "There are things to learn here. Lots of things. Things you can't even imagine."

"Like what?" Quinlan asked. "I've been to all my cla.s.ses."

Meghan rolled her eyes. "Now that's just wrong and you know it."

Quinlan pulled her hands free. "What do you mean?"

"Answer me this," Meghan started. "Why did you settle for only one major when most everyone chooses two? Learning used to be everything to you. Now you can't even take your one major seriously. And I know you've skipped more cla.s.ses than you've gone to."

"I've been studying at home...." Quinlan's eyes narrowed and zeroed in on Meghan. "Wait, how did you know that?"

"Your progress report," Meghan answered. "You left it on the kitchen table."

"Oh."

"There's that 'oh' again," Meghan said. "And another thing, why are you still afraid of heights? That shouldn't be an issue anymore."

"How could you possibly know that?" Although Quinlan secretly wondered the same thing.

"I saw you the other day on the ladder changing the light bulb," Meghan answered. "You white-knuckled it the whole way."

"You know I've always had a fear of heights." Quinlan protest sounded feeble, even to herself.

"As a human, yes. But not here!" Meghan said. "All those things are supposed to be filtered out during orientation." She resumed her pacing. "Something's not right."

"Okay, okay. I get the picture," Quinlan said, more than ready to switch topics. The last thing she needed was for Meghan to figure out the real reason for her return. She smiled tentatively. "See why I didn't tell you?"

Meghan's glare could turn boulders to dust.

"I wanted to tell you, if that helps. And it's the thought that counts. Right?" Quinlan scrunched up her nose like a little kid. "Besides, now that you know, will you help me?"

Meghan picked up the folded newspaper and sighed. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Be my study buddy?"

"Your study buddy? What are we, in fifth grade?"

Quinlan offered up her best round-eyed pout.

Meghan groaned. "How long do we have?"

"Two weeks."

"Great. Just great." Meghan threw up her hands and headed into the cottage.

Quinlan pressed her hands to her stomach, feeling her diaphragm clench erratically. "Well, that's done." She puffed out her cheeks, mentally crossing "tell Meghan" off her list.

She stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, her fingers tangled in the scarf around her neck. "Why can't I get this right?"

"Turn around." In less than thirty seconds Meghan tastefully arranged the scarf Quinlan had wrestled for the last five minutes. "There. Done," Meghan said. "Now go. You're late."

Quinlan scooped up her presentation folder and made sure her reading gla.s.ses were somewhere on her body. She found them where they were supposed to be...on her nose. "Do I look okay?"

"It's not a beauty contest." Meghan said, using her sister voice.

Exiting the cottage for her appointment with the Advisory Council, she heard her sister's final remarks.

"Don't fidget. And remember to make eye contact!"

CHAPTER 23.

QUINLAN.

The sisters sat at their favorite outside table at Angela's. Quinlan jabbered animatedly, her hands painting pictures in the air.

"Calm down." Meghan locked her fingers over her cup of hot tea as if Quinlan's flailing would knock it over.

She dropped her hands to her lap. "Sorry. I'm just excited. And there's so much to do." Quinlan fixed her mouth, pulled a notepad from her pocket and jotted down a few words.

"You actually got the a.s.signment." Meghan's eyes size of quarters. "I can't believe it."

Quinlan giggled, fairly bouncing in her chair. "I know."

"And you're leaving this weekend?" Meghan held a hand to her forehead as if checking for fever.

"Yes." Quinlan clutched at her heart. "I feel like...I can't breathe."

"You're being a drama queen. You can't stop breathing here. Remember where you are." She fanned Quinlan's face with a napkin. "Better?"

"A little."

"Good. Now tell me everything." Meghan blew on her cup of tea before sipping. She snarled and reached for the sugar bowl.

Taking a deep breath, Quinlan released the air, her cheeks puffing out. "Well, I was nervous."

"Yeah, I got that." Meghan spooned two piled-high teaspoons of sugar into her cup.

Quinlan's excitement deflected any of Meghan's deadpan remarks, although she did catch the amount of sugar her sister dumped in her tea. "Did you know there are twelve Council members?" Quinlan's eyes widened. "There were lots of eyes on me in there." She grabbed the napkin from Meghan to fan herself. "Anyway, after the presentation, they asked some questions, I answered. And that's how it happened. Done deal."

"Did you see George?" Meghan asked.

"Yes, I did." Quinlan's head moved like a bobble head. "He seemed very rea.s.suring."

"How so?"