Quinn nodded. He wasn't being invited. He was being told. There were no invitations between family. It had taken him years to learn that. His stomach growled again but he ignored it and followed Nat up the path to the main house.
He found her on the swing set. She sat in one of the swings, her arms wrapped around her chest, gently pushing her toes in the sand. He didn't ask for permission, he took the swing next to her and handed her the soda. He wrapped the elbow that held his drink around the chain and kicked off. He didn't say anything. He waited for her to get it off her chest.
"I used to love grape Nehi," she said after a few minutes.
"I remember." And he did remember. Sometimes Emma reminded him so much of Natalie. She was almost like a little blonde clone. "Remember that rusted piece of shit y'all called a swing set?"
She laughed, "I nearly broke my neck when the chain snapped one day. I think I was around five at the time."
"And Nate did this spectacular sliding dive to catch you, only to get hit in the mouth by the swing."
She laughed again. Covering her mouth this time, but she spewed soda anyway. "He did. I remember that. He was always there. You know. He was always going to protect me. And he never complained when he got hurt in the process."
"Your mother nearly tore him a new one. Mostly for not ducking."
"Mom was such a cool mom. More so when she was scared … I'm trying to be like her, Quinn. I can't right now." She stopped the swing and tossed the bottle over to the grass. It spilled, but that didn't matter. She grabbed the chains and kicked off from the ground hard. Pumping her feet, she flew through the air. Her long hair flying out behind her like a banner.
Quinn watched her swing. The steel bar overhead would hold their weight. It would hold the weight of the next generation of Truman children. It might even make it through a third generation. Natalie had the next generation growing inside her.
He had no idea why that thought depressed him. He finished his soda and tossed the bottle to clink against hers. He needed to fly.
His legs were too long, he had to pull his knees up to get the swing moving fast enough. He gave up and climbed out to stand on the seat. When he had the swing moving through the air fast enough, he let go and flew.
The ground was soft when he landed. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sky. It was still daylight. It was still the same day. It was still summer and hot but he was home. He knew that. Natalie let out a shrill scream almost like some deranged rebel yell. He looked up in time to see her sail out of the swing. A moment of panic clenched his chest. What if she fell? What if she lost the baby? What if …
She landed on her feet, stumbling a couple of steps while she caught her balance. Laughing like a maniac, she tumbled onto the ground next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Quinn wrapped his arm around her. Protecting her. "He'll be okay, Nat. I don't know him. I mean, seriously. And I don't know exactly what happened to him. I know what didn't happen to him. That's what matters. He'll get to a place where he can live with it. Just don't take it personally. And don't give up on him."
"I don't care about what might have happened. I care that he … he didn't die. I don't know how you do it. How you deal with … what happened to Nathan. I mean … really. Tell me. I'm so sick of the secrets and lies and the rumors. What happened to him that night that binds you … and Drew? The three of you. You've never been the same since. None of you."
Quinn watched the sky. Just like this morning. He could taste grape soda and hear children laughing. "Brody Harper raped him," he said the words he'd sworn he'd never say. Especially to the woman lying in his arms. "He brutalized him. And when he was done, he carved horrible things into Nate's flesh. Crude, horrible things. Nate died in the ambulance. And if you hadn't called me when you did, he would have killed himself down in the Keys. None of that happened to Lonnie. None of it. I promise you that. I swear to God, Nat."
"Lonnie isn't as strong as Nathan," she said. Quinn could hear the tears she tried not to shed.
"No one is as strong as Nathan." He didn't say that Nathan was strong because he had no choice. He was strong because the rest of them were weak.
She nodded against his neck, curling her hand over his heart. Quinn took her hand and held it. He let her cry. His shirt could handle a few more tears. Appetite for Destruction seemed a fitting slogan for his life.