8. Lavender

Quinn woke up the next day in a funk. His bedhead was unruly, deciding not to fight it Quinn sat on the corner of his mattress. Staring at the ground for a moment he could feel his body was refreshed but his mind was exhausted. The memory of last night replayed in his mind in an endless loop. He rarely saw Taylor cry and when he did it wasn't easy. Him being the cause made it twice as unbearable. Remembering the tears welling up in her eyes made his eyes watery. He knew Taylor wouldn't let this go without an apology. 

Not wanting the weight of the incident on his mind any longer, Quinn jumped to his feet and stretched. The wooden floor was cold and creaked under his weight. Quinn threw on a dark blue t-shirt with the same jeans and sneakers from yesterday. Looking around he noticed his room was a mess of clothes and empty water bottles. 

On the far wall pictures of cars were pinned. Most of them were in black and white photos found in Harrison's old newspapers. A few in actual color but slightly faded. 

Quinn always fantasized about driving cars. He only ever saw the remains of an automobile, they were all over the streets, gutted either for metal or other materials. Looking at them made him optimistic about the world he lived in. How people soared ar speeds up to two-hundred miles on just four wheels, it was mindblowing. 

The favorite in his collection of pictures was a 1969 Shelby Ford Mustang. A candy apple red with a double-white racing stripe down the center hood of the car. The wheels and hubcaps polished, a black trim outlined the windows, side mirrors were a metallic silver with a black leather interior, coupe. The picture was taken somewhere on a boardwalk, you could see the water and seagulls flying in the background. Quinn always tried going to sleep with this image in mind. Imagining how the seats felt, the pressure of the accelerator, the roar of a 500 horsepower engine. At least that's the way Harrison described it. 

Quinn ran downstairs to find his mother in the living room in her rocking chair listening to the radio. rocking in her chair listening to the radio. The radio blared some jazz with some heavy saxophone. 

Few radio towers were still up an running. The only other station the radio picked up was classical. Quinn's mother didn't really care for either but to him, jazz was more enjoyable. 

"Good morning, Quinn. I could hear you tossing and turning last night when I went to check up on your mother." 

An older lady in her mid-fifties with silver hair down to her ears emerged from the kitchen, it was Nancy. Nancy was Quinn's neighbor. Apparently, she had always lived in this neighborhood even before and after the war. Her husband was killed in action while serving in the military police. Thereafter, Nancy collected his life insurance and had a funeral in his memory. They never had any children just a couple of cats. Nancy decided there was no point in dating at her age deciding to live out the rest of her life just trying to enjoy what was left. A kind soul, Nancy was like a second mother to Quinn. 

Nancy worked as a nurse in a geriatric home before the war, she had a knack caring for people those who couldn't care for themselves.  Playing the part to a tee she wore the actual uniform from her old job, dark blue medical scrubs with her name embroidered on the side. She said they were easy to hand wash and she had a bunch of them in her closet. 

"Yeah, I didn't sleep too well, Nance." 

"Is everything alright, honey?" 

"I said something stupid to Taylor last night and made her cry." 

Nancy rested her hands in front of herself and frowned. 

"Well, I m pretty sure if you apologize she'll forgive you, Quinn." 

Quinn bowing his head started kicking at a knot in one of the floorboards. 

"Yeah, I hope you're right, Nancy." 

Suddenly, Quinn's mother spoke. 

"Quinn, is that you dear? Come here for a moment." 

Quinn looked up at Nancy who already was looking at him. She smiled weakly and nodded her head. Quinn slowly made his way over as to not startle her with his approach. Somedays were better than others. Sometimes she would recognize him, other days she would scream thinking he was a burglar. 

Frail, grey thinning hair, crystalline blue eyes carried bags underneath, and crows feet to match. Around the same age as Nancy, she looked ten years her senior.  It was tough for Quinn to his mother in such a desperate state of being. He kneeled down gently and put his hand on hers. She wrapped her fingers around his, warm and soft as always. Turning slowly she looked at her and smiled. 

"That girl, I see the way she looks at you handsome boy of mine." 

She placed her other hand on his cheek. He could smell the soap on her skin, lavender. 

"Don't ever lose her, Quinn. She will bring you happiness. I know because I looked at your father the same way." 

Quinn felt anger start to boil inside and his palms beginning to sweat. 

"You look just like him, Quinn." 

She began to part his hair, straightening his curls. 

"Mom, I have to get going. Harrison and the others are waiting for me." She ignored him and kept at it. 

"Your father is out there you know. I can feel it." 

Suddenly the anger was drowned by a wave of sadness. Maybe everyone was right about his father being dead and his mother being a delusional kook. 

"When you have the time, dear, I want you to do something for me. I need you to go upstairs and look under my bed, there is a box. I've collected some things over the years. Now, that you're old enough, I think it's time you have them." 

"Ok. Sure, mom. I'll check it out when I get back from Harrison's." 

Trying to hide his confusion he nodded his head. 

"Ok, honey. You tell Harrison I said Hi and to mind the tulips." 

"Ok, mom. Will do." 

Out of no where her eyes shrank with sadness as if she were saying goodbye to him forever. Uncontrollable sobs began to erupt so strong they shook her chest causing the chair to rock a bit. She bit her lip trying to control herself as she let go of Quinn's hand. Nancy immediately stepped in. 

"Its ok, Susan, he'll be right back, I promise. Ain't that right, Quinn?" 

Quinn already stood up, looking down on Nancy. 

"Yeah, Mom. Don't worry." 

He bent down one last time and kissed her on top head, then headed out the door. Seeing his mother cry was another thing he never got use to, no matter how many times it happened. He always told himself it was just her sickness acting up, nothing more. Trying to focus on the day ahead Quinn walked down the street towards Harrison's shop, a bit of optimism seeping into his mind. Anticipation was starting to build causing Quinn to speed walk. Hopefully, Harrison had found something relevant about the object. Glancing over at Taylor's house, he noticed she wasn't there waiting for him like she usually did.