Julius held her in his arms, neither of them speaking. There were no words. He was feeling it too. He regretted coming after her. He should have left her alone. He had worried for months over nothing. Aquilla Chavez died in a car accident when she was four. Shelby Rimmer wasn’t his to claim. She never was. She had a family that loved her. He chose to let her go the last time, this was different. The choice wasn’t his. It belonged to her.
Aquilla didn’t look back. She couldn’t. She walked up her sidewalk to her house with tears flooding her face. She ignored the neighbor raking leaves when he asked if she was okay. She kept walking. She had to.
“Liz!” Seri called, staring out the window. She wanted to go to her. She needed to go to her, but Liz needed to go more. Quill needed Liz to go.
Liz ran to her with her own tears. She came back. She came back on her own. Breathe Liz. Breathe. Aquilla threw herself in her mother’s arms and wailed, breaking the barrier that had been between them; 14 years of buildup, 4 months of walls and animosity were released in a single embrace on the front lawn.
Manny slid his arm around Seri’s waist as she quickly wiped away her own escaping tears. Jesus. What was this family doing to her? She didn’t cry.
Manny had to head home for an early meeting, but promised to be back on the road as soon as it was over. Quill didn’t want Seri to leave. She needed her mom, but needed her friend more. She knew there would be tears. There would be lots of tears, and she felt better releasing them with Seri than her mother for whatever reason.
Liz brought her up a grilled cheese and a bowl of soup while Seri showered. She sat it on her nightstand and rubbed her back as she lay curled into a tight ball, trying to tell herself that she did the right thing. She made the right choice. Didn’t she? She didn’t know. She kept going back and forth, arguing with herself, trying to figure it all out.
Quill sat up and rubbed her face, running her fingers through her hair. She breathed in a deep breath and smiled a weak smile at her mother.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the plate with her sandwich.
“You’re welcome, Sweetie. I’m so glad you came home.”
Quill tried to keep the sob from fleeing. The lump in her throat made it impossible to swallow the bite of sandwich in her mouth. Liz took the plate and pulled her close as she cried and cried and cried. It would stop. How much could a 17 year old girl go through before she just quit? Quit caring, quit trying, and just quit breathing. That had to feel better than this. Liz didn’t speak. She only held her as she let go of the emotions, crushing her heart until Seri entered.
Liz looked up to her with tears in her own eyes and waved her hand for her to take her place. She had to get out of there. She couldn’t stand to see her daughter hurting the way she was. Seri slid in and took her place as Liz saw herself out, wiping tears. She didn’t care if Monica wasn’t her therapist. She was calling her. She needed Connor, and because Quill couldn’t have Julius, she didn’t feel like she deserved him either. That wasn’t right. Was it?
“I’m okay,” Quill finally said, pulling away and wiping her own tears with the inside of her nightshirt. “I need to get stoned, Seri,”
“Where is it?” she asked. Seri wasn’t about to give her a hard time about it. She would have probably been sloshed by now had she been in her shoes.
“In the back of my closet, the blue jacket,” she replied.
“This is a hell of a lot of money, Quill,” Seri said, holding the thick envelope in her hand. This girl was crazy. Where the hell did she get that much money?
“You can have it. I just need to get stoned,” she offered.
Seri placed it back into the jacket and retrieved the bag. She locked the door, opened the window, and twisted a joint on Quill’s desk.
“Where’d you get the money, Quill?” she asked, handing her the stick and the lighter.
“Please don’t be doing something illegal,” she begged
Quill snorted. “I snuck that from the house on Jamelia Lei,” she smiled, hitting the much needed relaxer.
“You really should be like a private investigator or something,” Seri assured her, taking the joint.
“I would probably get myself shot, like you did.”
“Good point. I think you should open a flower shop or something, maybe sell some greeting cards,” Seri smiled, dropping her arm over Quill’s shoulder. If someone had told her a year ago that she would be in love with a man and his daughter as much as she was, she would have had Monica deem her crazy.
Chapter 21
Aquilla continued against her will to go to the school that she hated. She never did figure out how to relate to the other students. She stuck to herself and, of course, Whisper and her junkyard friends. She refused any extracurricular activities, dances, pep rallies or ballgames. She did, however, take Reese, and even annoying Lil, dress shopping for a couple of the dances.
She still missed Julius like crazy, and he haunted her every waking moment. Why couldn’t she just have him there? Was he back in Spain? Was he still going by the name Mason Strong? She wondered after only three weeks of seeing him if he would move on. Would it be easier for him than it was her?
“Quill, I don’t like you hanging out at that junkyard. What do you do there?” Liz complained after their Saturday afternoon shopping trip to the grocery store.
“Nothing, we just hang out and listen to music and stuff. I’m not doing anything bad, Mom,” she assured her. She wasn’t really, just smoking a little weed here and there.
“I’m going out to eat with Connor later. How long are you going to have my car?” Liz asked, giving in. She had to. What else was she supposed to do? It wasn’t like Quill had friends knocking down the door. She didn’t want her to sit home alone, and as far as she knew, she was telling the truth. Until she had some proof to go with her suspicions, she would trust her.
“I don’t know. Why can’t he pick you up?” She really needed to get her own car. She had the money; she could do it, but how would she explain that?
“I suppose he can, but I still want to know what time you’re going to be home.”
“I don’t know. I am almost 18, remember? And it’s Saturday night.”
“You’re not drinking and driving are you, Quill?”
“Oh My God! No, I’m not drinking and driving. I promise. What time do you want me home?”
“Nine!” Liz teased, sort of.
“Midnight,” Quill countered.
“I don’t like it, but okay. Behave, and if you ever need me to come and get you because you have been drinking, I will. Don’t ever think you can’t call me.”
“Mom, I’m not going to be drinking.”
Quill and her friends sat around the dirty garage and listened to music, talked, laughed and, of course, passed a couple of joints.
“What is wrong with you?” Whisper asked at Quill blanking out again for the 10th time.
“Uh? Oh, I was just thinking.”
“Obliviously, what’s on your mind tonight?” Whisper asked.
Oh, just my Julius that won’t leave my mind. “Nothing, I think I’m going to take off. I’ll call you later.”
“What? Why? It’s only nine. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, just go home. I’m kind of tired and I need to start on that report for stupid Mr. Praider.”
“It’s Saturday night. You’re not doing homework.” Whisper protested.
Quill smiled and stood from the old truck seat. “It’s due Monday,” she reminded her. “I’ll call you later.”
Quill drove the couple miles home in silence. She even reached over and turned off the music. If she started on the report tonight, she could have it done by the following day. She thought about what she was going to write about. Someone famous in history she would like to meet. Hmmm? Maybe Adolf Hitler. Nah, Mr. Praider probably wouldn’t appreciate the things that she would do to him. Helen Keller, yeah. She would have loved to have met her, just for the simple fact that she leaped over hurdles that the majority of people would have turned and walked away from.