checking her out thoroughly, Nathaniel agreed.
“But you’re not going to let me go back downstairs to the party, are you?”
William sighed. “It’s not like you were even doing anything strenuous, Quinn. You were just standing and talking.”
“So, no, then.”
“I’m sorry, love, no.”
She didn’t disagree with his decision, but it was still more difficult than she would have expected. William stayed with her, making occasional forays down to the party to bring her up plates of food she wasn’t much in the mood for. And, despite the fact that she didn’t want everyone to know, her absence was noted, and then it seemed like everyone was taking turns coming up to sit with her.
William’s five-cycle-old sister, Alice, refused to leave once she came in. She climbed right up on the couch beside Quinn and stayed there, coloring pictures.
“Aren’t you going to be sad to miss the fun at the party?” Quinn asked her.
“No. I like it better here with you.” She blinked, looking up at Quinn with her serious gray eyes. “I will leave if you don’t want me here.”
“Oh, Alice,” she said, putting her arm around the little girl and pulling her close. “I always want you here.”
Eight
Thomas knew that the last few weeks had been difficult on Quinn. It was obvious that she was trying to hold it together and put on a happy front with everyone, but something had changed when she’d had to miss Linnea’s wedding altogether.
To make matters worse, she’d only ever had a few small contractions after that one at the party, and after a full two more weeks of barely being allowed out of a chair, William and Nathaniel had finally decided she could return to doing normal things, because the baby would most likely be safe now if it did come.
That had been two weeks ago. Now it seemed like the baby had decided to change its mind completely and never come.
William had told him that with every day that passed with no baby, he felt guiltier for making Quinn miss the party, although she, of course didn’t blame him.
“Wouldn’t you feel worse if you had let her go down, and something bad had happened?” Thomas had asked.
“Yes. But knowing that doesn’t help much now. I don’t think that’s the real thing she’s sad about, anyway, Thomas. This baby will be here soon, and I know she’s starting to get scared, now that the reality is sinking in. And she doesn’t have her own mom … I just feel bad that the wedding was the one big, happy thing she was looking forward to before the baby, and then she didn’t even get to have it.”
Thomas didn’t know what to say; he just hugged his brother and did as much as he could to make things easier.
He was sitting in the common room, playing a game with Quinn, William, and Mia one day when he glanced out the window and gasped.
Everyone’s head snapped up, and they all followed him to the window.
After the snowstorm that had caused all of the trouble in the first place, the weather had changed back to its normal pattern for this time of the cycle – a little chilly some days, maybe, a few days of rain here and there, but mostly sunny and nice.
Now, though, giant snowflakes drifted past the window, fluffy as cotton. Already, the grass looked like it had grown patchy white fur.
They all stared out the window, watching it for several minutes, surprised, but awed at the pretty crystals.
Everyone except Quinn, anyway. When Thomas turned to smile at her, she wasn’t there.
“Where did Quinn go?”
William frowned, looking just as confused as Thomas had been. “She was standing right here.”
“I saw her go,” Mia said quietly. “She looked upset, but I don’t know why. I don’t think she wanted anyone to follow her right away.”
William sighed. “I think it’s the snow. When she sees it, it reminds her too much of home, and holidays she’s not going to get to celebrate with her family. She doesn’t think she really has the right to be upset