Through the Fire (11 page)

“You can eat the fish from out here, but I wouldn’t cook any of the fish caught from the Hudson,” Remy said, attaching bait to his line. “The water over there is so polluted, even the fish look sick.”

Cooking. Quinn remembered in a flash Nikita’s slender body standing next to his in the kitchen of their apartment, her fingers clumsily trying to bread some strip of whiting, the coating all over the place. When she dropped the strip, she turned to him and gave him her fabulous half smile. Even now, he could see her glorious body, recall how she looked so delicious in clothes, no matter what she wore. Oh how those T-shirts clung to her! But she couldn’t cook to save her life. She was a total disaster in the kitchen.

“What’s on your mind, son?” Remy asked, preparing to cast a line into the water.

“Mr. R, I’m all screwed up in the head,” Quinn said, watching the slow churning of the blades in the water. “I think I’ve come through the grieving thing over Niki, worked through that for the most part, but now there’s a new woman in my life. She wants to get into something. I don’t know if I’m ready. I still feel raw inside. All of this old stuff I’ve got to work through. It’s like life doesn’t let you stop and take a deep breath. Everything’s always coming at you.”

“Do you like this new woman?” Remy asked, looking up at the gray clouds far off. “You notice I said nothing about love. I don’t trust that love at first sight crap. You like her, the new one?”

“Yeah, she’s stable and consistent, talented,” Quinn said. “A solid sistah.”

“Does she keep you in check?” Remy had two poles now over the water.

“That’s just it. We’ve been going at it back and forth. She’s always deep in my stuff, probing, digging, won’t let me get off with
some jive answer. She’s tough. Niki used to do that. But it’s different with Rae.”

Remy laughed. “I once knew a woman named Rae. She was a wild, crazy girl. Party girl but down-to-earth. The real article. Rae-Rae, we called her. Now your Rae, how much you know about her?”

Quinn stood, feeling the breeze on his face, his eyes riveted on the old man walking briskly from the bait box to one of the poles at the rail of the boat. Its line was now taut, straining under the weight of the fish’s pull. Remy calmly gripped the rod in one hand, started reeling the fighting fish in, yanking it back easily. The water rippled, its surface disturbed by the conflict; then the long back of the gray fish became visible. With a quick jerk of his arm, he swung it over the side and onto the deck.

“Get that big bucket with the lid on it,” Remy ordered.

Quinn brought the bucket and watched as his mentor separated the struggling fish from the hook, its mouth agape. “Man, it’s big!”

Looking up from his kneeling position near the
bucket, Remy smiled, then asked again. “So how much do you know about the girl, the new one?”

“She has her stuff like anybody but none of it is the kind of craziness that would scare me off. I think we could have something if we just settled down.”

“Good.” Remy put the rod back in the water, looked up at the sky. “Winter’s coming. Real winter coming soon. No more of these fake spring days. Anyway, that’s good. If she’s a decent girl, give the thing time. It’s like fishing. The fun part is the wait. You have to have patience, give the fish time to decide what to do. You can’t rush him. If you do, you’ll chase him off. That’s what you need in this, patience, give it time, and what will be will be.”

“What about Max and Jamel?” Quinn asked, concern on his face. “I don’t know how she’ll react to all that. You know how women are. Another woman and a child. They head for the hills.”

“Not if she’s worth anything,” Remy said. “Hell, she’s grown. She knows you had a life before you met her. She’ll deal with it if she cares about you. You take somebody into your
life, you take everything that comes with them. Don’t worry about it.”

The rod shook, another fish on the hook. This time Remy turned to Quinn and said, “You take him in, son.” Quinn went over and did as he had seen the old man do. Struggling, he started reeling it in, the fish not as big as the other, but putting up a good fight. After he landed it, Remy patted him on the shoulder much as a proud father would do and broke out some food. Sandwiches, chips, and a couple of cold brews. They sat in silence, watching the lines, the other boats, the dark clouds, and felt at peace with the water and themselves.

Later that day, Quinn sat in his living room, listening to Roy Hargrove on trumpet and Johnny Griffin on tenor play sweetly on the ballad “When We Were One,” their soft, silky sounds filling the space. It had been a cool day. Real nice spending time with Mr. R. He was the closest thing Quinn had ever had to a father. He drank his Jack Daniel’s on the rocks and thought about everything Remy had told him.
Patience.
Let everything take its time. He
closed his eyes, sank into the warm arms of the music, its serenity, its gentle sway like the movement of the boat that day. Then the doorbell rang. Grumbling, he got up, put down his drink, and walked over to open it.

It was Rae.

“I know what I want, Quinn,” she said without preamble, staring him down in the doorway. “I’m not going to give you up this easy and walk away. Do you want to be with me or not?” Her heart thundered in her chest as forever seemed to tick by.

Slowly his eyes roamed across her face, down the length of her body. He leaned down and tenderly kissed her lips. “I was going to ask you the same thing,” he whispered, before pulling her inside and kicking the door shut behind them.

T
his relationship thing wasn’t too bad, Quinn mused, watching Rae putter around in her kitchen. Since they’d come to terms that they really wanted to be a couple, really work things out, it wasn’t as difficult or as intrusive as he’d imagined.

He liked the idea of waking up with Rae, hearing her hum in the shower, walking up behind him and kissing him in the ear, asking him what he was thinking. Most times he
would tell her, and most times she would tell him when he asked. And it was all good.

He was beginning to understand her because he’d slowly begun to realize that they were very much alike in many ways, and, yeah, it was going to take some time to knock all the kinks out, but as Remy said, he had to learn patience.

“Looks like it’s gonna snow,” Rae commented, peering out of the kitchen window.

“You mind if I hide out over here for a while?” he asked. “’Cause I know with the first flake, Mrs. Finch is gonna have me shoveling and salting like we’re in the middle of a blizzard.”

Rae laughed. “Be nice. That woman loves you to death. She just keeps you busy because it makes her feel good by keeping you out of trouble.”

“Yeah,” he said with a sarcastic chuckle. “That’s the line she keeps running on me.”

Rae came up to him and plopped down on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s true, baby,” she cooed. “If she didn’t have you running all over the place, just think of all the mischief you could get yourself into.” She kissed him on the lips. “Know what I mean?”
she said in a sultry whisper, sliding her hand under his shirt.

“Oh, you mean this kind of trouble.” He cupped her breast until she moaned in pleasure and nuzzled his neck.

“Yeah…this kind of trouble.”

Satisfied from a draining session of lovemaking, Rae had no intention of moving from her very comfortable position next to Quinn, wrapped up in her down quilt and watching the first flakes of snow fall beyond her window.

This is what she’d been hoping for, she thought dreamily, to be in a relationship on equal footing. Although Quinn still steered clear of the studio, he was at least contemplating playing again. At least it was something he was considering. That was definitely a good sign.

Both of them were moving forward, taking steps, but instead of walking that path alone, they were doing it together. She’d finally told him the full story about her and Sterling, that their issues were never about his parents, but her, her drive, something Sterling could never quite understand. Yes, there would always be
sorrow, sorrow for the husband she lost and mostly for the child that she would never see grow up. It was the kind of pain she still couldn’t put into words, and Quinn seemed to understand that.

In a way, she envied the fact that he had a son, a child that he could pick up a phone and talk to, hear his laughter and all the funny stories that children tell. See his face, watch him change. She sighed deeply. If there was one thing she’d come to realize, you couldn’t change the past, only learn from your mistakes and move on. That was a part of her life that was gone. Now, instead of allowing the memories to weigh her down, she would use them to spur her on.

She snuggled closer to him and he stirred.

“Don’t move,” he mumbled. “You feel too good right where you are.”

“You might just have to stay put for real. The snow is here.”

Quinn groaned.

Rae giggled and nudged him in the side. “As much as I hate to see you go, you know Mrs. Finch is going to be frantic.”

He groaned again.

“Come on, you big baby. I’ll get dressed and come with you. How’s that?”

Slowly he sat up, reached for her, and kissed her slow and long. “Sounds like a real incentive to me.”

After shoveling the inch-high dusting of snow and salting down the front walk and the steps to Mrs. Finch’s precise instructions, Quinn tiptoed upstairs hoping she wouldn’t hear him.

When he returned, Rae was reclining on the couch reading a magazine and listening to some music. She looked up. “All done?”

“Yeah, and if you cared about me like you claim you do, you’d offer to give a tired brother a massage for all the hard work he’s done.”

Rae grabbed a pillow from behind her head and threw it at him, catching him on the shoulder.

“See, that’s what I mean. If I wasn’t so tired, I could have ducked. Between you and Mrs. Finch you try to wear a brother out.”

“Consider yourself lucky. Some men would love to be in your place.”

“Sure, having two women mistreat him. Yeah, I bet they’re standing in line for that.”

He came and sat down beside her. “What are you reading?”

“Sears catalog. Just looking at some stuff for Christmas. They say they can have it here by Christmas if I order in the next two days. Kinda iffy to me, though,” she said, picking up the catalog and flipping through the pages. “With Christmas just about two weeks away…”

Quinn stood. “Yeah, uh, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

Her radar immediately went up by his tone. She put the catalog down and gave him her full attention. “What’s up?” she asked as casually as she could.

“Uh, Jamel is coming down for the holidays, spending some time with me.”

Her pulse rate slowly returned to normal. Jamel, fine, no big deal. She needed to get to know him anyway. “That’s great, Quinn. It’ll be fun, we’ll plan some stuff, take him around the city, maybe—”

“Maxine is coming, too,” he said, cutting to the chase. “She’s going to stay with her folks.” He walked over to the CD player and changed the disk to Chaka Khan’s “Epiphany.”

“Uh-huh, and…what is it that you’re not telling me?”

“Her husband can’t get away until Christmas Eve. It’s just her and J, and she wants me to pick them up from the airport. She was talking about us spending some time together…you know, me, her, and J, but…” He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s such a cool idea.”

Rae was quiet for a moment, trying to process the information, read between the lines and the expression on Quinn’s face.
Maxine.
The only person she feared other than his memory of Nikita. But Maxine was flesh and blood, flesh that he’d touched, made love to, made a baby with. That was the kind of hold that could never be broken. Sure, he’d explained about Maxine, their friendship since childhood, her loyalty, and their love affair, his feelings of betrayal for what she’d done. He insisted he was over her. But there was a part of Rae that wondered if that would ever be true. And if not, where would that leave her?

“So where do I fit in during this lovefest?” she asked a bit more nastily than she intended.

Quinn came over to her, sat beside her, and put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her
close. “Listen to me.” He looked into her eyes and saw the fear in them. “You’ll be with me,” he said tenderly. “Every step of the way.” He held her close, cradling her head against his chest. “Every step, baby,” he repeated. He was going to need her, more than she knew, more than he was willing to admit.

Rae’d been on pins and needles all week long. She’d completely dismantled her closet looking for the perfect outfit. She worried herself sleepless over what this Maxine looked like, what she would say to her, how Quinn and Maxine would act when they saw each other, and most of all if she would feel like the fifth wheel. Finally the day arrived.

“Would you relax, Rae,” Gail admonished, worn out from the parade of outfits and changes in lipstick color.

Rae spun around, her hands on her hips. “Relax! How do you expect me to relax, Gail? This isn’t some high school sweetheart. This is a woman he’s known all his life, turned to in crises, lived with, had a child with, for heaven’s sake. This is the same woman he went to when
he left Nikita, the very same woman that Nikita felt threatened by even though he married her. So tell me something else. Just don’t tell me to relax. Okay!”

Gail twisted her full lips, swinging her crossed leg. “Have you ever asked him why they didn’t work out? Why she is happily married to someone else?”

For a moment, Rae slowed down. She tugged in a breath, then looked at Gail imploringly, wanted her to understand the depth of her angst. “It’s just that we’ve come so far, me and Quinn. And we still have a way to go to make this thing solid. I just don’t want anything to mess that up, you know?”

“Yeah, hon, I know. But Quinn is with you. Not Maxine. Yes, she has his son and there’s nothing you can do about it, but deal. So you can either let her get the upper hand by allowing her to have this unseen power over you, or you can be the dynamite woman that you are, and show Quinn exactly why he’s with you—and show her, too, while you’re at it.”

Rae lowered her eyes and bit back a smile. “You know I hate it when you’re right.”

“Get over it.” She stood. “I have to run. Have tons of shopping still to do.” She took a last look around as she slipped on her suede jacket. “I like what you did with the place,” she said, noticing the small, decorated tree. She turned to Rae and smiled in understanding, knowing that was a big step for her, something as simple as a tree.

“Thanks,” Rae said.

Gail kissed Rae’s cheek as she opened the door. “When are you back in the studio?”

“After the new year. We’re all burned out, and I’m still not satisfied with the last two pieces.”

Gail smiled and shook her head. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will.”

“And, Rae, if you believe you’re worth it, so will he.”

Rae was coiled as tight as a bedspring on the ride to the airport. Every now and then she’d glance at Quinn, try to read him. His expression was impassive, as if going to the airport to meet his former lover, with his current woman, were something he did all the time.

She folded her arms. Couldn’t he even ask
her if she was all right? All he’d said since he came to pick her up was that she looked real good.
Big thank-you.
What she needed to hear was that he loved her, only her. That Maxine meant nothing to him, and could never come between them. All the things he’d never said, and that was what scared her.

It took all he had to concentrate on driving and not miss his exits. He had no idea how to handle something like this. He hadn’t told Maxine that he was bringing Rae. He should have so that Max could have prepared J. The situation was bad enough without confusing Jamel any more with another addition to the mix. What was he thinking? That was just it, he wasn’t thinking. And you’d think Rae would be a little more concerned. She couldn’t possibly think this was easy for him. Not once did she ask if he was all right. Hey, fine, he’d get through it. He turned to glance at her. Her face was smooth and relaxed.
Women.

Rae knew her the minute she stepped off the plane, and it wasn’t because of the little boy whose hand she held that looked so much like
his father. It was the cool class about her, the way she walked with assurance, a worldliness. She was quite stunning to look at with her dark brown features and severe haircut that accentuated her sharp cheekbones and engaging eyes. And even clothed beneath her designer attire, she had a figure that men lusted after.

Surprising Rae, Quinn took her hand, turned to her, and said, “Here they come. You cool?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling a wave of relief. She squeezed his hand. “You?”

“Yeah, no doubt.”

The instant Jamel spotted his father, he was off and running. “Daaaaddy!”

Quinn swooped him up into his arms, hugging him, realizing with a pang in his chest how terribly he’d missed him, how much he loved him.

Rae watched the exchange of love with a mixture of happiness for her man and sadness for herself. Briefly she shut her eyes, conjuring up a picture of Akia, trying to recall her scent, the lilt of her laughter. Yes, all the memories were still intact. She opened her eyes as Maxine approached. She stiffened and
watched. The next few minutes were sure to tell her everything she wanted to know—or not.

“Hey, Q.”

She had the kind of voice that had that just-finished-making-love sound, soft and hot, Rae observed. And she called him “Q.”
She
never called him Q.

Maxine reached up and stroked Quinn’s cheek, for the moment seeing only him. “You look great, Q.”

And at that instant, Rae felt locked out, nowhere in the picture of the happy reunited family.

Quinn stepped back, still holding Jamel. “Max, this is my lady, Rae Lindsay. Rae, this is Maxine Sherman…I mean Collins.” He put his free hand around Rae’s waist as if to assure her that everything was okay, that Maxine had not just rocked his world.

For the first time, Maxine took full notice of Rae Lindsay,
his lady.
She was attractive, in an understated sort of way, nothing flashy. They looked good together, she inwardly admitted, and it was clear in Quinn’s protectiveness of her that she meant something to him.

The old pang of jealousy reared its ugly head, but she pushed it back down. There would always be a part of her that wondered what it was about her that couldn’t hold Quinn, that always sent him into the arms of someone else. But the rational side of her knew that it had nothing to do with her, but the kind of man that Quinn was and what he needed in his life. The truth of it was, he was no longer the kind of man she needed and had not been in a long time. But there would always be those feelings of the familiar that she would keep close to her heart, the special thing that they did have between them. And because deep in her heart she would always have a love for him, she could only wish him the best, some semblance of happiness. Hopefully, Rae was the one. Funny, though, he hadn’t mentioned her at all. And if she was going to be in Quinn’s life, and therefore, their son’s life, she wanted to know everything she could about “his lady.”

Maxine stuck out her hand, pushed a smile across her lips. “Nice to meet you, Rae.”

Rae took her hand. “You, too. I’ve heard a
lot about you. You…have a beautiful son,” she added.

“Thanks.”

“We better go get your bags,” Quinn interjected. “You going straight to your mom’s or what?”