Page 26 of A Newport Christmess

“The gathering, yes, but not the baking with Grandma.” She paused and looked down at her plate. “My grandma died a few years back.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “It’s life. In all its ugly glory. It was actually two years ago, just before Christmas, that I started posting pictures and video clips of what I baked. It was just for me at first—a way to remember my grandma and document what I made—but one post went viral, and overnight, I hit ten thousand followers. I was honestly shocked anyone would care to see some random girl baking stuff, and yet, my audience kept growing and growing—until it stopped, that is. Now, it’s sort of stagnant, if not quite firmly on the downward trend.”

I sat there, not certain what to say. How did Quinn do it—be vulnerable so easily? We hardly knew each other, but she spoke without hesitation, without a thought to my judgment. And oddly, I wanted to reciprocate the honesty.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted. “I’m talking too much. Tell me about you. Your family or your work. Whatever you want.”

And just like that, my aversion to revealing anything too personal—of opening up too much—took hold. “There’s not a lot to tell. I worked at a few different legal firms until just after my divorce, and then I moved over to Carrigan Enterprises as a member of their general counsel. I oversee real estate transactions and development for them.”

She crunched a carrot. “Carrigan. That’s Kade’s family’s company?”

“It is. His grandfather started an investment firm over fifty years ago that did incredibly well and has expanded to all sorts of ventures—real estate, tech, pharmaceutical, backing start-up companies. The original Mr. Carrigan has retired, but his three sons and a daughter run it now. And several of his grandchildren, like Kade, also work for them, to some extent.” I set my empty plate on the edge of the coffee table next to the assortment of medicine and leaned back into the couch. “And that’s it.”

“Tell me one thing you’d love to do if you had more time.”

“Travel.”

Her face brightened. “Really? Where to?”

“I’ve been to a handful of places in Europe and Central America, but I’d love to go to Peru. Or Thailand, maybe. How about you? Would you like to travel?”

“It’s never really been on my radar, honestly. My family went on a lot of vacations, but they were always driving distance. And Cody traveled while we were dating, but I never went with him. I assumed we’d maybe travel together eventually, but obviously that’s not happening now. So, to answer your question, I’m not sure where I’d even want to go since I haven’t really thought about it. Maybe England.”

“England is pretty great. Make sure to hit up Scotland if you ever go. It’s definitely worth a trip.”

She gave a somewhat empty smile, like she wasn’t sure that would ever happen. “What about your family? You have Nikki and … Julie, was it?”

I nodded.

“Any other siblings?”

“I have a few step-siblings, but I’ve only met them a handful of times.”

She waited patiently for me to explain, but when I didn’t, she just nodded. “I also have two sisters: Margaret and Xena.”

“Xena? Like The Warrior Princess?”

Quinn laughed. “My mom named all three of us after nineties TV characters. Well, Margaret is pre-nineties since her name comes from Major Margaret Houlihan on M*A*S*H, but Xena the Warrior Princess, and”—she pointed to herself—“Doctor—”

“Doctor Quinn, Medicine Woman?”

“The one and only.”

I chuckled. “Are your sisters older or younger than you?”

“I’m your classic, overlooked middle child. Xena, my little sister, just went to college on a full-ride scholarship for soccer. She’s got it all—brains, beauty, athleticism. Margaret, the oldest, is everything I’m not—organized, intelligent, driven. She graduated top of her class from USD and is now getting her PhD in psychology.” Quinn’s gaze flickered to her plate. “She got married this year.”

She said it like she was happy for her sister, but her expression had sobered, and with it, I did too. Her gaze returned to me. “And then, there’s me: The Queen of Chaos and Underachievement.”

Once again, I didn’t know what to say. From what little I knew of Quinn, she was slightly chaotic. And yet, somehow, with her, it was an endearing trait. Not that I could tell her that. But I found I wanted to say something that would make her smile again. “My sister has almost five million followers on social media and is about to marry one of the heirs to a multi-billion-dollar company. My other sister is a mother of four, actively involved in her community, and is a gifted artist when she finds time to paint, which is a lot more often than you’d think. So it looks like we have another thing in common.”

It worked. Quinn gifted me a beautiful smile for my admission. “We should start a club or something. Or a support group. The Recently Divorced, Overlooked, Mediocre, Middle Children. We’ll have to work on the name, obviously. It’s a bit long. Or we could make it into an acronym.” She whispered the name to herself, spouting off a letter with each finger she put up. “R-D-O-M-M-C. Ridommac,” she said the letters like one word. “Nope. Not pronounceable. We’ll have to shorten it.” She laughed, and the sound was like magic with how it shifted the atmosphere of the room in an instant—or perhaps it had just shifted something in me.

The realization hit me like a rock-centered snowball. What was I doing? I couldn’t let a woman have this effect on me. Not again. And especially one I hardly knew, who professed her very convincing why-I-should-stay-clear-of-her list at every turn. I’d obviously spent too much time here today, and my thoughts were muddled. I needed to go downstairs and clear my head. Remind myself of my priorities. Remind myself that Quinn also was in no place to reciprocate whatever this was I was feeling. Interest, maybe? Shoot. That could not happen.

Eager to be on my way, I stood. “I’d better be going. It’s getting late.” I glanced at my watch for proof and barely restrained my surprise.