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Chapter 18 - You Know Your Father.

“Hey, Moms. Got a minute?”

“Always for you, Lambskin,” Lindsey replied via the speaker of the phone that Gus had set down on the middle of the coffee table.

“Mom! I’m about to turn eighteen in less than two weeks. Don’t you think it’s time to get rid of the ‘lambskin’ thing?” Gus complained.

“Never!” They could hear Lindsey laughing. “Even when you’re fifty and I’m eighty, you’ll still be my little lambskin.”

Qianna had to put a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles that comment engendered. Gus actually blushed, which didn’t help with the hilarity level. Parents were so embarrassing sometimes.

“Whatever,” Gus rushed on to try and distract everyone. “Anyways, I didn’t call to talk about pet names. I wanted to ask . . . Um . . . So, did you know that Quinne’s summer camp roommate knows Justin Taylor?” There was a ‘huh’ from Gus’ phone indicating Lindsey had not known that fact, so he continued. “Yeah. And she’s going to get me an autograph or something, but she was surprised that I knew him. I told her how he and dad had dated back when I was younger . . . But that got me wondering about why they broke up. You never told me what happened.”

“I don’t think anyone really knows, Honey,” Lindsey responded. “One day everything was fine and the next it was over. Of course, we were all still living in Toronto back then, so we missed most of the drama. But from what I heard, the family didn’t even know Justin was gone till after he’d already left town. Your dad took it pretty hard, fell off a cliff and disappeared for about two weeks, and by the time he’d resurfaced after his bender, that was that - Justin was history and your father ordered us not to ask about it, so we didn’t.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Gus argued with Qianna nodding agreement at him in the background. “Weren’t they married or something? I have vague memories of being a ring bearer for their wedding, right? That means they must have been serious about each other. How did they just break up, over nothing, and nobody ever ask what happened?”

“You know your father, Gus. He’s never been big on talking, especially about things that really upset him. He’s also incredibly stubborn, so if he doesn’t want to discuss something, he simply won’t. Whenever I’d try to press him, he’d just physically leave, and then I wouldn’t see or hear from him at all for weeks. It was just easier not to push, I guess.”

“But didn’t anyone try to talk to Justin? From what little I remember about him, he seemed like he was a lot more open than dad,” Gus insisted, pressing for whatever additional information he could get.

“Like I said, Honey, we were up in Toronto so I didn’t know anything about what was happening until weeks later. And I did try to contact Justin, but he ignored my emails. I admit, I was a little hurt by that and maybe didn’t put all that much effort into following up with him. I’d thought we were friends, but then he just seemed to cut all ties from everyone,” Lindsey explained further. “Personally, I always thought it was the promise of a new job that lured Justin away. He’d worked in California for a few months a couple of years earlier and even talked for a while about going to New York to pursue his art career, so it wasn’t a big surprise to anyone that he might take a full-time job doing animation work in California. And it wasn’t like your dad could just pick up and leave, not with Kinnetik here and all. Justin, on the other hand, was so young and had his whole career ahead of him back then. It made perfect sense for him to do whatever he had to do to advance himself and his art. I can’t blame him - I would have probably done the same thing if I’d had his talent - I only wish he hadn’t felt like it was necessary to cut us all out of his life to do it.”

“But wasn’t that about the time that Pops had Quinne? Doesn’t it strike you as odd that my dad - the guy least likely to commit to anything - would decide to have a kid right after breaking up with his husband? You don’t think that had anything to do with Justin leaving, do you?”

“Oh, no. That’s not Justin’s style at all. Justin loved kids. He used to practically beg us to babysit you and J.R. He used to call it ‘getting in his baby fix’.” You could hear the fondness in Lindsey’s voice when she recounted that particular memory. “In fact, I suspected at the time that having Quinne was your dad’s last gasp attempt to get Justin back. But, apparently, it didn’t work, and the lure of a Hollywood job was stronger than a baby and a life of domestication in The Pitts.”

Something about that explanation still didn’t ring true to either Gus or Qianna, but since it didn’t seem like they’d get anything more than speculation out of Lindsey, Gus let the matter drop and quickly ended the call with his mother.

“Well, so much for getting answers from her,” he groused and flopped back deeper into the couch cushions in defeat.

“I just don’t buy it,” Qianna agreed with her brother. “First of all, I don’t see your Pops being the kind who’d try to blackmail his partner into staying by having a kid. And secondly, my dad wouldn’t leave just to take another job. Not the way he did - cutting off all contact with EVERYONE back here at the same time. My dad isn’t spiteful like that. And, if what he’s doing for Alex with this stupid wedding is any gauge, he’d bend over backwards for any man he really loved, including rearranging his career plans for him.”

Gus nodded along with her conclusions. “Yeah, I agree. Plus, the Justin I remember wouldn’t have just abandoned all of us for a mere job. There had to be a lot more to whatever happened.”

Before they could discuss the matter further, though, Qianna’s phone pinged to alert them to an incoming message. She picked up the device, looked at the text, and immediately broke out laughing. When Gus demanded to know what was so funny, she read the message aloud to him.

Quinne: ‘I think the mousetraps might have been overkill.’

“Uh oh. Sounds like she got caught,” Gus worried, grabbing the girl’s phone and tapping at it until the phone rang through to his sister in California. “You got caught, didn’t you.”

“I’m afraid so,” Quinne responded, regretfully. “I probably would have gotten away with the laxative brownies - the idiot ate even more this afternoon, by the way, despite already having the runs - and even the fireworks on the toilet, because they basically disintegrate when they explode, leaving no evidence, but the mousetraps . . .”

“Dad is not amused, I take it?” Qianna asked.

“Definitely not,” Quinne answered, obviously a little worried but not at all repentant. “Your dad came home from work, found the troll huddled on the toilet moaning, and got all uber-worried. I tried to intervene but he insisted on taking the loser to the emergency room. Unfortunately, that’s when he discovered the mousetraps in his shoes.” Neither Gus nor Qianna could stop themselves from laughing a little at that image. “Naturally, there wasn’t any other explanation for those being in his shoes other than me putting them there, so I got THE LOOK and was told that Dad would deal with me when he got home. I’m not sure if they’ve twigged onto the cause of the diarrhea yet or not, but since Alex was wearing the jacket I spiked with my special, homemade itching powder when he left, they should be dealing with that by now too.” They all had to pause a moment to get their hilarity under control at that point. “So, how tough of a disciplinarian is your father, after all, QiQi?”

“Don’t worry. He’s a total marshmallow,” Qianna reassured her naughty sister. “He’ll just sit you down and lecture you for a while, making you feel like shit because of how much you disappointed him, but that’s pretty much it. Maybe some extra chores or something. Piece of cake.”

“Well, as long as he doesn’t make me clean up the bathroom that Hairy Alex stunk up all day, I’m good with that. Who’d have thunk that the combo of an exploding toilet seat AND laxative brownies could cause that much of a mess, huh?” she snickered nastily and the other two joined her again.

“What about all the social media posts? I bet they haven’t even seen that stuff yet,” Gus posited.

“Nope. Alex has been too busy communing with the porcelain god all day,” Quinne assured them.

“Alex deserves all he got and more,” Qianna assured them both.

“Agreed,” Quinne spoke up. “I’m just afraid that my little stunts might backfire. I think your dad feels so sorry for the moron that he’s probably going to overlook the part about how Alex started all this with the shower thing this morning. He’s just too nice of a guy, you know?”

“Exactly! Which is why we still can’t figure out why the dads broke up,” Gus added. “Qianna and I just got off the phone with my mom. Her explanation was that Justin simply left dad - knowing that there was at least one baby on the way - for a better job in Cali. I mean, come on. That’s not Justin. Or, at least, not how I remember Justin.”

“No way. This guy is so fucking sweet he practically gives you cavities,” Quinne echoed her brother’s opinion. “Justin wouldn’t have left when he did just for some job. Not when they were about to become dads. I don’t see it.”

“Unfortunately, that means we still don’t know the real reason they split up or the reason behind us being split up either,” Qianna summed up the situation. “And I really don’t know who else to ask. We might have to just give up and ask the dads straight out.”

“Still no word from that other cousin?” Quinne asked, referencing the one other hit they’d got off the DNA service.

“Nope. And I’m assuming you didn’t get a response from our mother either?”

“Afraid not. If that Devon guy really did forward our contact info to her, I suppose this means she’s not interested in talking to us. Which sucks,” Quinne complained.

“Well, I’ll try my contact again and see what happens and maybe you can try Devon back too?”

“Maybe. Assuming I’m still allowed access to my computer after your dad and Alex get back from the hospital and I get grounded. Although, even then I won’t regret it. That nasty little prick needs taken out and I won’t rest till he’s gone.”

They were all laughing at the righteous viciousness of Quinne’s tone when the door opened and Brian sauntered in, interrupting the call. “Well, what’s this? The ‘All My Children’ hour?” he asked with his usual smirk.

“Hey, Pops!” three voices said all at the same time - two in person and one via phone - and then the two present in the house also yelled a synchronized, “Jinx!”

“Ha ha! Got you!” Qianna crowed happily to ‘her’ brother. “Now you can’t talk till someone says your name.”

“Bullshit. I got YOU!” Gus countered.

“I wish you’d both shut up!” Quinne joked from her end of the call.

Brian looked askance at the phone until Qianna offered an explanation. “That’s my roommate from camp. We were just consoling her. She’s about to get grounded for playing a prank on her dad’s evil finance.”

“Ah! The mysterious, QiQi, I presume?” Brian surmised. “Well, if you need help with pranks, you’ve come to the right place. These two are experts on that subject.”

“You still haven’t forgiven us for that time we filled the sugar bowl with salt, have you, Pops?” Gus teased. “You should have seen his face when he dumped half the bowl into his coffee and then took a huge gulp. Best April Fools Day ever!”

“You are not too old to still be grounded, either, young man,” Brian warned, although anyone could tell that he wasn’t serious. Then he turned his attention back to the supposed stranger on the phone and advised, “but I doubt a couple of pranks are going to be enough to get rid of this loser. That is the plan, right? You’re trying to tank this guy’s wedding?” The nods all around told Brian he was on the right track. “Well, like I told Quinne - you should talk to Emmett. If he doesn’t know how to ruin a wedding, nobody does.”

“Excellent idea!” Quinne enthused from her end of the phone, before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to know who Emmett was. “I’ll take whatever help I can get. If this ‘Emmett’, or anyone else for that matter, knows how to get rid of Hairy Alex, I’ll be forever grateful. Thanks, Mr. Kinney.”

For about half a second, it looked like they might have goofed. Brian looked down at the phone, his head cocked to the side, as if confused. Gus and Qianna immediately worried that hearing Quinne’s voice - and her very Quinne-ish responses - might have given away their masquerade. It had been stupid of them to think that a father wouldn’t recognize his daughter’s voice. And that ‘Mr. Kinney’ seemed to have done it.

Before Brian could overthink it, though, Qianna decided to act. “Well, I was just about to go pack a bag to go over there for our usual pedicure and movie night, so I can ask Aunty Em for you, QiQi. I’ll call you back if he has any good ideas. Okay?”

“Sounds good. Later!” Quinne signed off and the phone screen faded to black.

“I better get going too,” Gus stood up at the same time as Qianna. “I’m meeting some friends at the movies tonight. Bryce and Glen are both leaving for college this weekend so it’s probably the last time I’ll see them for awhile. But I’m not sure what time I’ll get home, so I figured I’d crash in town with the moms and leave you to your wild ways for the night, Pops.”

“Ah, yes. My wild ways. A stud’s job is never done,” Brian responded with a vague half-smile.

Qianna worried about the somewhat unenthusiastic tone to Brian’s comment but was happy that it seemed Brian had been distracted from wondering about Quinne - at least for the moment - and decided to make good her own escape while she could.

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While Qianna was having a great time eating pizza and picking out toenail polish with Emmett, over on the left coast her sister was not having nearly as good of a time.

“You go on up to bed, Babe, and I’ll be there in a minute to make sure you’re comfortable,” Justin advised, ushering Alex into the house as soon as they returned from their trip to the ER.

Quinne had heard the car driving up, but refused to go hide from the consequences of her actions, so she stayed put in the kitchen awaiting whatever the fall out might be. Watching the solicitous way that Justin was fawning over Alex was more than enough punishment for her, she thought. The only thing worse was seeing the way Alex kissed up to Justin and milked him for every last drop of sympathy. Sheesh, you’d think that the guy had just recovered from the plague or something, not that he’d been a greedy fucker who scarfed down too many stolen brownies and had to spend a few hours on the toilet as a result.

“Thanks, Hon. You’re so good to me,” Alex cooed as Justin helped him remove his jacket. “But could you please bring me up something warm to drink too? Maybe some tea or something to make my tummy settle down?”

“Of course. How about some camomile?” Justin offered and Alex smiled at his fiance with this simpering look in his eyes that made Quinne want to barf.

“Thanks, Babe. Love you,” Alex chimed.

“Love you too,” Justin replied, leaning in to leave a quick kiss on Alex’s cheek.

Which is why Justin didn’t see that, over his shoulder, Alex smirked nastily at Quinne while he pretended to submissively accept the kiss. By the time Justin had stepped back again, the belligerent look had been wiped away and replaced with the annoyingly schmaltzy smile that the hypocrite always gave Justin. It was infuriating. She was relieved when Alex finally made his departure, pretending to drag himself up the stairs to the bedroom while Justin turned back to confront his daughter.

“. . . manipulative, conniving, underhanded, little bitch . . .” she was still muttering under her breath as Alex disappeared around the upstairs landing.

“Enough, Qianna!” Justin rounded on her. “I don’t know WHAT has gotten into you, but I won’t put up with this any longer. You could have done some serious damage with that trick you pulled. And, yes, we know about the brownies and the fact that you poisoned them. No wonder poor Alex has been sick as a dog all day. How could you do something like that?”

“It’s not like I forced him to eat them, dad,” Quinne argued defiantly. “I put a note on the plate saying NOT to eat them without asking me first. See?” She pointed to the almost empty platter of brownies waiting on the counter where the sticky note was plainly visible. “If he’d asked me, instead of stealing them like the pig he is, I could have told him they shouldn’t be eaten. Not that he’d listen to me - he’d still take them just to spite me because he’s a total ass - but that’s not my fault.”

“Qianna . . .” Justin huffed an exaggerated sigh as he looked at his wayward daughter. “This has to stop. Seriously. You have to let go of this grudge against Alex, Honey. I’m going to be marrying him in just a couple weeks and I need you two to somehow figure out how to get along. Okay? Please?”

“I didn’t start it, Dad. He’s the one that chased me out of the shower this morning by intentionally flushing the toilet over and over until I was practically scalded. I was just returning the favor.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t intentional, Peanut.”

“Actually, it was. I heard him laughing as he flushed the second time,” she insisted adamantly. “And that’s not all. He’s never been nice to me. He’s always doing mean stuff, just not when you’re looking. Why can’t you see what a total jerkwad he is? He’s just ACTING like he loves you, Dad. He’s playing you. He’s . . . Well, he’s an asshole and a creep and that’s the best I can say about him.”

“What is with you, Qianna? When did you start cursing like a sailor? I know I taught you better,” Justin wrongfully focused on that one slip up rather than on the underlying problem with Alex and that only made Quinne more angry.

“That’s it? You’re going to just ignore what I told you about him attacking me first and lecture me on my language? Really?” an insolent Quinne replied, going on the offensive, because she truly had had enough and was getting pissed off. “Focus here, Justin! This man is using you and all you can see is that I’m cussing? He’s no good for you. He’s a gold-digger. And he’s AN ASS! You need to cut bait and get rid of him NOW before you regret it,” she ordered, too angry to realize that she was completely out of character by that point.

“Qianna Lea Taylor! That’s more than enough. You will NOT talk to me like that!” Justin finally betrayed some temper of his own. Pointing to the stairs he added, “go to your room, right now! I’ll deal with you after I’ve made sure that Alex is okay. And, just so you know, there will be consequences for this bad behavior, so don’t make any plans, because you’re going to be grounded.” When she still didn’t back down, he added, “till you’re eighteen.”

Quinne stared her ‘father’ in the eyes for half a minute more, challenging him silently, but soon realized that she wasn’t going to win this round and gave up. She stomped off, heading up the stairs to her room, still unrepentant. She was angry enough that she didn’t even say a word when she noticed Justin grabbing Alex’s hoodie from the back of the kitchen chair - the one she’d added the itching powder to - presumably to take it, along with the tea, up to his poor, ailing finance. Fuck them both. If Justin was happy letting himself be manipulated by an opportunist like Alex, then he deserved what was coming to him.

So much for her one job of trying to break up the wedding; it seemed like she’d only driven the two men closer.

Qianna was going to kill her.

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