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moral-terpitude · 4 months

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Misadventures - Part 16 (Merry Fucking Christmas)

and it won't be long 'till we drop this match • when I burn to your fingertips, you can throw what's left

A/N: so, this will be the last part until 2024! I didn’t forget about part 15 (it’s still in the works and a bit rocky!) but, this is just where Christmas falls in the story sequentially, so, we’ll have to just do some jumping around here a bit!

[Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

Misadvetures taglist: @cillmequick @emotionalcadaver @zablife @raincoffeeandfandoms

Summary: Quinn has an unexpected guest.

Word Count: 4,072

Warnings: discussion of childhood trauma, discussion of intergenerational trauma, discussion of childhood sexual assault, missing persons, discussion of character death. This is NOT warm and fuzzy.

Quinn realized, as she sat looking into the yet unlit fireplace, she had never spent a Christmas alone.

She had decided that maybe coming home and being somewhere familiar, while not with family, would be a good break.

She hadn’t told Tommy she would be by herself. He had seemed surprised when she said she was going home for Christmas, and she was yet to talk to anyone but her dad, and as far as he knew she was still in New York.

A good ol’ switcheroo to give her some time to herself.

The drive in the rental car wasn’t terrible, and the weather had just started to pick up once she got settled in, taking the time to stop off and pick up ingredients for dinner even though she definitely didn’t feel like cooking.

The carrots were steaming in the pan as she pulled the bottle of non-alcoholic wine Tommy had given her from the bag, an actually quite kind gesture the more she looked at it, because it wasn’t just the fake Welch’s champagne her mom would give them on new years as kids, it was really made in a winery somewhere, and she wondered if he had had to order a whole batch of it just to get one bottle, because if he had, it would last her a lifetime.

She felt somewhat choked up at the thought, because until then, she realized she hadn’t been looking to the future too far with Tommy, trying to not overthink things, but she really liked the idea of him being it for her.

She didn’t want to go back to dating, and before he sort of fell into her lap she wasn’t looking for someone, so maybe that’s all there was to it, that she’d find the right person when it was time.

She dug through the junk drawer in search of the wine key, flipping over the salmon in the buttered pan as the potatoes browned in the oven.

Snowflakes fell outside the window, and as the breeze flung them all through the air, she caught the sight of headlights against the trees.

Her brow furrowed, pulling the curtain, to see, of all people, her mother getting out of the White Jeep Wagoneer that was parked behind the rental, and trudging towards the door, sputtering as she did so about what Quinn could only guess she was saying was the “fucking stupid weather.”

“Mom?” Quinn cracked the door, peeking her head out, as another gust of wind came through, sending her shivering.

“Oh, let me through, it’s freezing out here, Quinn.”

Quinn nodded, returning to the stove to shut off the burners.

The sound of her mom kicking the snow off of her boots sent her back to snow days as a child, all 7 of them busting back into the house for grilled cheese and soup before turning on a movie with mugs of hot chocolate.

Quinn didn’t turn around as she put the food on the plate, hesitating for a moment before realizing there was enough for both of them, that her eyes had been bigger than her stomach.

“Have you ate?”

“I left around dinner, stopped off for a coffee.”

“How’d you know I was here?” Quinn asked, pulling another plate out of the cupboard and divvying up the salmon onto the second plate, fresh carrots and potatoes piled on as well.

She sat them on the table, doubling back for utensils, before sitting herself in the chair, the bottle of wine still unopened.

“Your dad was showing Amanda how to set up Life360 on their new phones, I haven’t had the notifications on I guess, but it showed you heading through Cadillac.”

“I took everyone but dad off of mine.” Quinn took a bite, biding her time before speaking in an effort to calm herself. “Why are you here?”

Her mother sighed, giving a shake of her head, “To talk. I’m surprised I got this far, I honestly didn’t think you’d let me in,” her brows furrowed as she stilled, the way Quinn would listen as well to see if anyone was around, “Isn’t Tommy with you?”

Quinn pushed the carrots around on her plate before stabbing through one, “No. He has the kids. I told him I was coming home, but, I didn’t tell him I’d be by myself. It just felt…too soon to spend a holiday with his kids. I’ve met them, and it’s not that I don’t want to be around them, I just—“

“I get it,” she nodded, as Quinn took a bite, falling back into silence until their plates were empty and in the sink soaking in hot sudsy water.

“So, I know you didn’t drive for almost three hours to talk about the weather.” Quinn stood at the counter, popping the cork out of the bottle, before pouring herself a glass. “I’d offer you some, but it isn’t going to do anything for you.”

She saw her mother still out of the corner of her eye, before she stood slowly, crossing to pick up the bottle and examine it.

“Are you—“

“No,” she drummed her nails on the side of the glass, wishing she would have kept her mouth shut, “it just turns out alcohol and I don’t mix, so, it’s better this way.”

Patti sat the bottle down, leaning against the stove, before huffing out a sigh, “My dad…was an alcoholic.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Quinn bit back, deciding it was best to be a bit on the defensive still until she managed to feel out her mother’s true purpose for the visit, “you’ve never told us anything about him.”

“I know. Because he wasn’t nice. He wasn’t a good man, and he sure as hell wasn’t a good father.”

Quinn thought about watching Tommy and the way he interacted with the kids. By someone’s standards, she was sure, he wouldn’t be considered a good man, but, she thought he was. And a good father, too.

Quinn chewed the inside of her lip, “I have a feeling this is going to be a long story, so can we sit, please?”

Her mother nodded, and Quinn wandered to the dimly lit living room, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, and tucked herself into the corner, watching her mother take the other end.

Quinn waited. It wasn’t often that the two of them had much time alone together, and maybe that was part of the problem. She wasn’t particularly in the mood for mending old wounds, not bothering anymore to shed tears over whether life was fair and that their relationship wasn’t good, but at the same time, she was tired of feeling constantly at odds with her family, too.

“I know, there’s things I don’t talk about, but I’ve never wanted to burden anyone with them.” Quinn felt her brow furrow, unsure of how to prepare for the incoming information, “When I was young my uncle, for a very long time, lived with us. He was paid disability from Vietnam. Aunt Amelia and I shared a room. Sometimes, since our parents both worked, he would watch us instead of the neighbor lady, and then he eventually volunteered to watch us all the time. Always home.”

Quinn’s stomach sank, the realization of the unwell feeling the words gave her, the prickle of hair raising on the back of her neck, made her dread what was coming next.

“He never…” she watched her mother sigh, averting her eyes, staring at anything but Quinn as she spoke, “it wasn’t sex, but he did things to me. To her. He never looked twice at Pat, probably because he was older, but Spencer was younger and he took advantage of him, too.”

Quinn fiddled with the gold post in her lip awkwardly; was this how Tommy felt when she unloaded everything on him? What was there really to say?

It felt different, her divulging everything to him, contextually. It was an explanation. An apology. A warning. All tied up neatly with a bow. This was, well, something else entirely.

The reasoning she had been looking for, maybe.

“When your father and I first got married, Spencer was nowhere to be found. Hadn’t heard from him in years. Then he just showed up one day. Rebecca was 5, so I would have been pregnant with Erica.”

Quinn found it funny the way her mother measured time, sometimes. Rebecca being the oldest, must have only known her to be pregnant for most of her growing up years.

“He said he needed somewhere to go. That it was temporary. He stayed with us for maybe a year, I think, Erica was small when he left. I came home one day from the doctor to your dad and Opa in the yard, with him blathering on, high on something, saying he didn’t know what he was doing and that he was sorry. He was crying because Opa had the shotgun pointed at him and–”

She shook her head, wiping at a stray tear.

“I never thought anything of it, your dad was at work and I couldn’t cart all of the girls to the appointment, so he said he’d watch them. Your dad came home to…”

Her mothers mouth pressed into a firm line, not wanting to admit the words.

“Lydia didn’t realize until way later on. She was four. Too little to really know what was happening. The first time she ever did anything with a boy she ended up punching him in the face because it came back to her.”

“That’s why she left.”

It wasn't a question. It all made sense now. At 14-years-old she hadn’t understood the tension all those years, Lydia acting out, never being home, moving out the minute she turned eighteen and, of course, changing her phone number and never looking back.

For a while, Quinn would call, hoping to at least be sent to voicemail. It didn’t take long for the number to be reassigned to someone else.

“I’m sorry, Quinn. I know, your sister will never talk to me, ever again. That’s something I have to live with and something I regret every day.” She chewed her lip, “Neither of you deserved what happened, and, as parents, we didn’t advocate hard enough for you. I was young with everything that happened to Lydia, and I should’ve pushed harder when they tried to say Spencer wasn’t competent to stand trial.”

Her mother sighed, pulling her eyes away from watching the snowfall outside of the window.

“With Gerard, we should have known better and we should have gotten ahold of Tim sooner.”

Quinn nodded, slowly, looking away.

Her whole life could be summed up by “coulda, shoulda, woulda,” if she tried hard enough.

She wanted to yell, be angry, scream, fight, punch, hit, but she was tired of giving energy to the things that didn’t, really, concern her anymore.

It was done. It was over. It was something that happened, and yes, it affected her, but she was never going to change it.

“Gerard has been missing.”

The comment itself was out of left field, while not really, for the subject they had been on.

Quinn was somewhat disgusted with the gasp she let out; despite the fact she couldn’t stand his guts it was still shocking news.

“The department put him on leave after you left, and he came up missing a few weeks ago. There was a note, apparently he doesn’t want to be found. It didn’t sound like suicide but they haven’t ruled it out either.”

Quinn’s stomach sank, a few weeks ago was, well, Tommy had been out of town for work. It seemed like they hadn’t been back for very long from her meeting Charlie and Ruby to just have him pack up and leave again, this time, without her.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t asked, but the timeframe was just too tight and she couldn’t keep rescheduling appointments just because she wanted to go with him.

Work.

She tried not to grimace, but it was something she made a mental note to ask him about when she saw him again.

There was no subtle way to ask that through a text message.

Hey, did you happen to threaten and kill my ex, because if you did, well, honestly, thanks.

Despite going against my previous wishes.

“So they haven’t seen him since, what, Thanksgiving time?”

“Yeah, just about.”

“Damn,” she sighed, “that’s honestly shitty to have happen around the holidays.”

“Oh,” Patti shook her head, realizing that she had forgotten something, getting up and rummaging through her purse, “this was at the house. Your dad brought it in, but, it had your name on it.”

Quinn puffed out her cheeks, taking the purple wrapped box gently from the shipping box it had been in.

There was a blue satchel inside, the word Shinola being the largest, with Detroit also pressed in gold below it.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered, opening the drawstring and removing the blue box, hands trembling as she unwrapped the piece of paper that fell out.

Quinn, I’m the luckiest man to have found my perfect match in you. -Tommy

She felt all her limbs turn to gelatin and she hadn’t even opened the box yet. How had he planned this? The note was clearly in his handwriting, but– she tried not to overthink it too much, some things Tommy did he just did, and she was trying not to look too far into the rhyme or reason at that point.

Fuck. Don’t cry, do not cry.

She opened the magnetized lid, the gold necklace situated on a plush white pillow inside.

All the charms were 14-karat gold, strung onto a pave gold charm and situated gently in the box. A lightning bolt, a golden match with the word LUCKY engraved on the side (which she knew from the online catalog was exactly how it came) and an upright horseshoe engraved on the golden placard hanging in the midst.

She handed the box off to her mother, resolve finally breaking, as she got up in search of some tissues.

“Quinn, that's really pretty. Don’t you like it?”

“I do,” she mumbled, the words coming through trembling lips as she tried to wipe away all the tears, “no; I do, I really really do.”

She let out a sigh.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It’s just been…” she turned on the cold tap, filling a glass with water, “tough. Things have been tough. I mean, we’re both juggling businesses, and, the kids. They’re great. They really are. But I don’t think they like me. Well, Ruby does, but Charlie is just cold. And…” she swallowed hard, the water not helping her fight back the tears, knowing she couldn’t unload everything on her mother, “Lizzie is just not easy to deal with. I feel like she’s after me and I’ve not really even ever spoken to her. Sometimes you know when someone wants to kill you with just a look.”

“Well, that’s,” her mom hugged her, and Quinn was surprised when it felt like a real one this time, “kind of the situation you’ve stepped into, my dear.”

“I know,” Quinn wailed, setting the glass down on the table as she gave in to the hug, her mother rocking her back and forth gently.

“If I would’ve known you were coming I would’ve put up the tree.” She whispered, “What were you going to do, sit here and stare at an empty room all weekend.”

“I thought about it.”

Quinn slumped. The drain of all of the information and the crying finally catching up with her at once, hitting her like a freight train.

“Why don’t we watch a Christmas movie instead.”

“Okay. Will you help me put that on, I can’t with my nails.”

Her mother nodded, “You better message him and say you got it.”

Quinn checked the time, “Wow, it’s late, but, yeah. He’s gotta put gifts out and I know he’ll feel like the worst dad in the world if he forgets.”

“Go, call him. We’ve got time.”

“Wait,” Quinn checked the clock, 11:50, how had that much time passed, “give me 10 minutes then I can say Happy Birthday, too.”

“His birthday is Christmas?”

“Yeah, go figure. But you were born on Thanksgiving that year, weren’t you?”

“Hello?” Tommy cleared his throat, feeling for the light as he realized he was being ambushed with a FaceTime call at exactly 12-midnight.

“Hi.” Quinn smiled.

“Where are you?” She watched as his eyes scanned the surroundings behind her, the bedroom at the cabin looking nothing like the one they had slept in at her parents.

“Oh,” she swallowed, “at the cabin. I had changed my mind once I had got off the plane, and came up north.”

It was a fib, but one that wouldn’t hurt.

“Love, what are you doing spending the holiday alone?” He rubbed at his eyes, trying to keep his voice as hushed as he could, and leaned against the headboard.

“I’m not. Mom’s here,”

His brows raised in surprise, “How’s that?”

“Well,” she sighed, as he finally took in her red ringed eyes, “I’ve learned some things. I think we’re gonna be okay.” She shrugged.

“Were you crying?”

“You made me cry.”

“What did I do, eh?”

“You got me a gift?! I didn’t get you anything!”

He smiled softly, shrugging, “I’ve got everything I need, love.”

“And it’s your Birthday and I'm not there,” she whispered, lip puckering.

“Nothing special about my birthday, I’ll just be a year older next time I see you.”

She chuckled, swiping at her eyes, “Don’t remind me.”

“I think you should get some sleep, Quinn.”

She hated to agree and have to hang up, but the day, and all the new information she had been give, was definitely wearing on her.

Pulling into the driveway of the farmhouse, Quinn was surprised to see more than just her Opa’s truck parked in the drive.

Behind it, was a car she didn’t recognize. A little red Toyota with an Arizona plate and two car seats strapped in the back.

She parked the black Jeep off to the side, not wanting to be in anyone’s way, and killed the engine. If someone else was here she would probably be outlasting them awhile if Quinn wanted to have any kind of serious conversation.

“Well, I better get going,” there was a sniffle, the words coming out muddled as Quinn entered the house, not quite recognizing the voice above the baby babbles and the sound of the television playing some kids show.

“Well,” her Opa’s gruff voice sounded softer as the voices got closer, the sound of the door opening and closing, Quinn’s presence, and another vehicle arriving outside going unnoticed, “you know you’re welcome anytime.”

“Yeah, I know,” Quinn held her breath as she rounded the corner and made her way as quietly as she could into the kitchen, “I just don’t get back this way that often and thought I sound come see you. I wanted the boys to at least know some of their family, ya know?”

She was surprised that Lydia still looked the same. Almost 14-years and there wasn’t much that had changed about her, other than the baby she was holding and the other child clinging to her leg. Two little boys with the same brown hair and brown eyes as their mother.

Quinn couldn’t hold back the little huff that came out as tears welled in her eyes. Out of all of them Lydia turned out the most looking like their dad.

Lydia nodded as their eyes met, ruffling the hair of the little boy attached to her leg, “Like I said, we should get going.”

She felt like a ghost as Lydia brushed past her, no acknowledgment of her presence, no introduction to the kids, nothing.

Quinn swallowed hard as the door closed, tears finally falling down her face as she doubled back, letting the door slam closed behind her.

“Lydia?”

Her sister didn’t look up, continuing to buckle the boys into their car seats.

“Lydia!”

Quinn was surprised when her sister’s face flashed with a bit of anger, closing the now running vehicle up a bit harshly before closing the distance between the two of them.

“Don’t.” Her sister shook her head, “Don’t call me that. Listen, I made my peace with this place. I got out of here, got far away, changed my name, and I’m happy now. I have a family. I—“ she rubbed the bridge of her nose, before looking Quinn in the eyes again, “If all I have to do is keep my kids far away from all of you to keep them safe, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Quinn felt her lip pucker, no different than the day that Lydia (whether she wanted to be called that or not, Quinn realized that was all she ever knew her as) left the first time. She wondered if it would have been easier to think of her as being dead all these years.

It seemed like it was what everyone else did.

“Mom told me—“

“Me being here wouldn’t have changed what happened to you, Quinn.” She glanced over her shoulder at the vehicle, “I have to go.”

She took a shuddering breath, watching the vehicle drive away.

No ‘I love you’ or ‘what’s your phone number?’ like she had hoped if she ever saw her sister again.

Quinn swallowed hard, wiping the tears from her cheeks before they started to freeze and hauled herself back into the house, kicking off her shoes, before returning to the kitchen to see a steaming mug of tea waiting for her on the table.

Quinn didn’t speak until the tea was gone, a plate of food sat in front of her.

Hashbrowns, eggs, wheat toast, and six strips of, surprisingly, store bought bacon.

She cleared her throat as her Opa filled the mug with another round of hot water, sliding in the chair across from her at the table.

She popped the egg, dunking her toast and taking a bite, before speaking.

“You ran out of bacon? Never thought I’d see that happen.”

She tried to not be sour, but maybe the new year would bring better things.

Taking a sip out of the mug, she fiddled absentmindedly with the necklace from Tommy, thankful that she at least had some positivity to return to.

“Yeah, well,” she watched her Opa’s eyes flick to the rest of the pack of bacon on the counter, the lid of the rubber made container open that he intended it to be put into, as he dug the pouch of tobacco out of his lip and set it on the edge of his plate, “hogs got sick awhile back. Think they ate something that didn’t agree with them.”

She blinked, taking in what he had said.

Lots of things seemed to be happing awhile back.

“Around thanksgiving time?” She questioned, trying to remain nonchalant as their gazes met.

“Well, now that you say that, I guess it was.”

“Hm,” Quinn huffed, stabbing into the hashbrowns, “interesting.” She cleared her throat, quickly chewing and swallowing the bite, “I should’ve told Tommy to come see the horses while he was here a few weeks ago.”

He nodded, looking back into the plate, “You coulda. Domino is still getting acclimated but someone breaking her in might not be a bad idea. Otherwise, I ain’t never seen hide nor hair of him.”

Quinn stared at him, the wrinkles and valleys in his face, as she took note of his rather purposeful double negative. He always hated when she talked that way as a kid, told her when he was young his mother woulda beat the ‘ain’t’ out of him if he talked like that.

She knew he never would have been able to help Tommy haul a body into the enclosure with the pigs, but he definitley was the one that held the keys to it, and she knew if Tommy asked him to dump the body there he’d sacrifice his bacon one million times over to do anything that helped Quinn.

Quinn decided she didn’t enjoy the fact that all the holiday left her with was more questions than answers.

She needed a fucking cigarette and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Maybe it was the last time she would come home for Christmas ever again.

This has been up my sleeve for so long I’ve been trying to be patient with myself and not blow it!

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