Free More Than This by Shannyn Schroeder

to forget the grief Colin had caused Dad. Ryan was still paying for it.
    His office door opened and Ryan lifted his eyes expecting to see Mary. Instead, Eileen
     O’Leary stood in front of him. “Hi, Mom. What’re you doing here?”
    “I need to talk to you.”
    Shit. He didn’t need any more on his plate. His mother sat in the chair in front of
     his desk.
    “You need to give Colin a chance.” As usual, his mother offered no preamble or small
     talk; she got straight to the point.
    “To do what? Fuck up everyone’s lives instead of just his?”
    “Watch your mouth. He’s your brother.”
    Ryan inhaled through his nose and reined in his anger. Lashing out at his mother would
     solve nothing. “He’s the one who left.”
    “He’s back. And he’s staying. He’s moved back home.”
    Figures. Colin always took a free ride. Ryan looked at his mother. She sat straight
     in the visitor’s chair, hands folded in her lap, and ice in her eyes. She wasn’t about
     to let this go.
    “What do you expect from me?”
    “He needs help finding his way. He thought going out on his own would make it happen.
     He’s as lost now as he ever was.”
    Ryan shook his head. Colin wasn’t lost; he was lazy.
    “He’s not like you, Ryan. You were always driven to succeed. Picked what you wanted
     and fought for it. Colin has a harder time figuring out what he wants.”
    “Did he tell you all this?”
    “He didn’t need to.”
    Ryan huffed and rolled his eyes. Eileen slapped a hand on his desk. “I know my boy.
     Just as I know you want to make him pay for not being here.”
    It amazed him how quickly the brogue blasted from her lips whenever she was angry.
     He’d lived with it his whole life, but never got used to it. The Irish brogue was
     a beautiful lilt in the mouths of his cousins, but from his own mother, it was venom-filled.
    He had no choice but to give her what she asked. “I’ll try, Mom. That’s all I can
     promise.”
    She stood. “He’s family, Ryan. Your brother. You have to do more than try. Your father
     would want you to make it right. He’d expect no less.”
    She left as quietly as she came. Good old Mom. She didn’t care if it was a low blow
     to pull out the guilt card. Irish Catholics were masters.

    Monday morning, six-fifteen, and Quinn lay wide-awake. Her stomach churned. She held
     her phone in her hand and hit speed dial.
    “What?” Indy answered groggily.
    “I did it. I called in sick. Now what?”
    “Go back to sleep. I’ll call you at a decent hour.” She hung up.
    “Great. Her brilliant idea and she won’t talk to me.” Quinn tossed the phone on her
     nightstand and rolled over.
    Three hours later, her phone rang. She reached for it and stopped. What if it was
     school? Would she have to pretend to be sick? Could she? She blew her bangs off her
     forehead and crumpled the dust rag in her hand.
    Her heart thumped nervously as she waited for the machine to answer.
    Indy’s voice called, “Hey, Quinn. It’s me. Are you there?”
    Quinn picked up the line. “I’m here.”
    “Too bad. You’re supposed to be out having fun. What are you doing?”
    She tossed the rag on the table. “Spring cleaning I put off.”
    “Oh, God. You are such a sad case. You do not take a sick day to clean. You need to go do something.”
    “Like what?”
    “Look, I have a couple of showings scheduled for this morning and a closing this afternoon.
     Keep yourself busy, with fun, and we’ll do something together later. Don’t you have
     any other friends to hang out with?”
    “They’re all at work. Where I should be. I called Kate, but Kyra’s sick. The only
     people I know with flexible jobs are you and Nick.”
    “Do not call Nick.”
    “I didn’t say I’d call him.” But the thought had crossed her mind. Her ex was always
     good for having fun.
    “My clients are coming. Find something fun to do. I’ll call you soon.”
    Quinn turned back to her bookshelf. She’d finish what she