Page 33 of What Love Can Do

Her mother quietly picked lint off a dish towel. “If I know anything, it’s that people are cut from the same cloth, so if he’s anything like his mother, he won’t care who he hurts. He’ll do the same to you—leave right when you start falling for him.”

“Wow.” Lilly shook her head. This was all crazy, not to mention paranoid, of her. “So, you think he’s going to hurt me the same way Maggie Phillips hurt Dad. But aren’t you glad she did, Mom? If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t have had him back.”

Her mother grimaced. “You mean, the way she hurt me.”

So, that was it. This was personal between Maggie and her mother. “I respect that, Mom, and I’m sorry that she hurt you, but Quinn is a different person. And besides, you don’t need to worry about him breaking my fragile little heart because I’ll be in Miami.”

Her mother scoffed and threw up her arms. “Right. And if he’s anything like his mother, I’m sure he’s encouraged you to go, leave town, abandon me when I need you most.”

Lilly thought of how Quinn had actually encouraged her to do exactly that. How he’d marveled at the wonderful time she was going to have in Miami before she’d gotten upset at him, momentarily, over the way it seemed he was pushing her away. “Are you kidding me?” she said, throwing the tray of muffin batter into the oven and letting the door close with a sharp tap. “I knew I was going to Miami before I even met Quinn, so how could he be responsible for convincing me to leave? You’re not even making any sense!”

“You just said yourself that you received the news a few days ago, but you hadn’t decided what to do until today!” Her mother gloated in momentary victory. “So which is it?”

“I was kidding when I said that.”

“Kidding? That’s a weird way to kid, don’t you think?” she argued.

Lilly braced her arms against the sink, breathing deeply to calm herself.

“Honey—” her mother began more softly.

“Well, okay, not kidding, per se. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings by making you think that I had held onto a secret for days, so I just said that. But the truth is, I’d already made up my mind before Quinn and his brother walked through the door.”

Her mother’s voice was calm and even. “Lillian, you know I need you here. Who’s going to make your muffins?” Before Lilly could retort with a rash diatribe about how it’s her life, her decisions, and how her mom should just deal with it, she saw the tears at the corners of Mom’s eyes, and realized… Mom knew that most people came to Russian River House because of her famous baked goods, because Trip Advisor recommended the establishment based on all the reviews about muffins and little else.

Lilly was her secret weapon—and she was about to lose her.

“What’s going to happen to Parker House if you go?” Mom asked, pulling out one of the last of her bullet points. “Your baked goods don’t just draw people here, but to Parker House as well. The winery is barely holding on. Phillips Winery monopolizes wine tastings around here with their fancy festivals. You know that. We’ll go down before you know it.”

Although losing business to Phillips Winery was always a concern, this was the first that Lilly had heard of Parker House “barely holding on.” She suspected her mother was dramatizing that as much as she was dramatizing how the family B&B would crumble to dust if Lilly were ever to leave. “I understand your concerns, Mom. I really do, but I need to do this,” Lilly said gently. “It could lead to more opportunities. I would really love to open my own bakery someday soon.” Lilly noted the hurt in her mother’s eyes, but she couldn’t backpedal now. She was all the way in. No turning back. “I know when I was younger I wanted to take over the bed-and-breakfast, but my dreams have changed. I can’t stay in Green Valley forever, Mom. I’ll wither away.” She knew those last words would especially hurt her mother because a blind person couldn’t miss that Penny Parker had withered quite a bit since the death of her husband. “You’re here, Grandma and Gramps too, Nancy, Mellie, Cook, and everyone, of course, but I need more. And I’ll be back. I hope I’ll always have a home here.”

Mom said nothing.

“I’m going to do this,” Lilly said, walking up and pressing a hand against her mother’s shoulder. “But I would be thrilled if you would support me on this decision. I’m happy about Miami. I’m happy they picked me out of five hundred entries. And I would hope that you’re happy for me too.”

For a long while, Lilly stood there watching her mother’s face contort into a miasma of emotions. It didn’t seem like she was going to go gentle into that good night. She would do everything within her power to convince Lilly to stay here and help run the bed-and-breakfast, like a good inheritor of the family business ought to do. When this conversation was over, Lilly was so totally meeting up with Quinn at Mulligan’s, where he said he’d be tonight to watch the game.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” her mother said finally, wiping her eyes. “I can understand you leaving for a while. Maybe I have been hoarding you. What can I say, I want to keep you for my own. You’re my girl.” A small, defeated smile swiped across her mom’s face, but as quickly as she saw it, it disappeared. “But I can’t understand you seeing Quinn again,” she said, blue eyes blazing. “And as Ken Parker’s and my daughter, I would hope you could understand why.”

Thirteen

Mulligan’s was more alive tonight. Perhaps because two important football games were on at the same time, so The Cat’s Meow didn’t have enough seating for everyone in town who wanted to watch them. Sitting with Con, Quinn didn’t want to offend Paul by suggesting his place was usually slow, but he was curious to hear his take.

He swigged back the rest of his black stuff. “Eh, Paul?”

“Aye, Quinn.” Paul wiped down a section of counter that had already been wiped several times.

“The other night was emptier than a whorehouse during a chlamydia breakout, and now, there’s a few cats here. Explain that.” Quinn turned to watch the people in the tavern—a group of five women in their thirties who kept eyeing him, giving each other knowing looks, and a few scattered men watching the game between the Dolphins and Jets.

“Ah, your guess is as good as mine. Way I figure, the games are on, but some folks like to watch in quiet, so they come here.” He shrugged and turned his attention back to the TV. So that was it. Quinn could tell that Paul was tired of trying to figure out his low sales and just didn’t care anymore. “To be honest, if I could sell this place right now and retire, I would.”

Dara swiveled in her seat and murmured over her shoulder. “What he means is, if you want to take it off his hands, he’s open to it.” She winked at Quinn, went back to whispering things in Conor’s ear, then glanced at her father who gave her a chastising look.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. Stay out of it, lass.” Paul poured himself another beer and focused his attention back to the game. “Though I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he mumbled.

Looking around at the mostly empty tables, Quinn considered, Hmm, maybe… Ever since he’d first visited Mulligan’s, he’d thought this place could do with some updating. It had a great wooden floor and just needed new booths, new tables and paint, some updated artwork on the walls, and definitely more modern light fixtures. If Paul hired a cook, he could put out some fantastic, easy plates and attract more customers, but as it was, all he served were drinks and frozen cheese sticks.

“How much would you want for it, just curious?” Quinn asked, not at all convinced he’d want to buy it, but it wouldn’t hurt to know.