Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, and Janice stood, the pitcher of lemonade in her hand. “I’m going to head back into the house. I think you girls ought to work this out between yourselves.”
“Good idea,” Zoe spat.
Janice disappeared into the little house. Both Quinn and Zoe watched her retreat before turning to face each other again.
Zoe took a step closer to the porch, but Quinn stood and gripped the rails of the wrap-around porch.
"She didn't deserve that," Quinn said. "She's never done anything to you."
"Exactly," Zoe's mouth was a hard line, and the anger inside her was roiling now, building up the back of her neck and getting ready to spill out.
"Zoe, go home," Quinn said.
And that was it. Those were the exact words that made the dam holding back all her anger and frustration break wide open.
"Go home?" Zoe cried. "Do you know how long it's taken me to find you? Do you have any idea what you've done? Not just to Paul, but to me? To our friends? You just get it in your head to run away from your problems and not worry about the consequences? Well, life doesn't work like that. You don't just get off scot-free regardless of what this woman might have to say about it." She gestured to the door again, and Quinn narrowed her eyes.
"Leave Janice out of this. Your problem is with me. Look, didn't Ian call? I asked him to—"
The mention of Ian’s name was like nails on a chalkboard, and Zoe winced. "This isn't about Ian, either. You shouldn't have had to—"
"What? Leave? And if I didn't, what were my choices? Face up to everyone, and tell Paul I didn't love him enough in front of his whole family? Do you really think that would have been the kinder thing to do? Or is it better for him now, with the sympathy of his family around him and the knowledge that I was some confused woman who ran off?"
"You would think running was the nobler answer. I can see why you and that woman get along now," Zoe shot back.
Quinn tilted her head to the side then began nodding slowly. "I see now," Quinn said.
"You see what? How inconsiderate and ungrateful and selfish—"
"This isn't about me," Quinn said. "Just like this isn't about Janice. You don't care that I know her or that I left Paul. You only care that I ran off. Like she did."
Zoe swallowed hard. "That doesn't make any damn sense. I haven't even thought about her in years."
"Haven't you?" Quinn raised her eyebrows. "So you just get irrationally mad when you see our aunt? It had nothing to do with the fact that they were twins?"
Zoe rolled her eyes. "Now who doesn't want to talk about the topic at hand?"
"Zoe, what did you think was going to happen if you came here? That you'd drag me back to Connecticut and we'd reschedule the wedding—life as usual? What was your end goal?"
Zoe licked her lips, thinking. In truth, she hadn't imagined much past saving Quinn from whatever likely-alcohol-addled state she was in. Had she hoped Paul might take her back? Of course, but after everything that had happened between them, even Zoe had to admit that was a pipe dream at best.
So what had she wanted?
"I just needed to know you were safe," Zoe answered, finally.
"And you see that I am. So, what do you plan to do now?" Quinn asked.
"You still need to come home and face the consequences of what you did. It's not right to leave Paul returning gifts from his own jilted wedding."
"And you couldn't have told Ian to tell me that? You had to come after me?" Quinn's eyes softened as she appraised Zoe with a clear, penetrating gaze that made her want to shift a little and hide her expression.
"Look, you're not going to make out like I'm the bad guy here," Zoe said. "You know what you did."
"I came to see our aunt. Which is what you're most upset about, I'd be willing to guess."
"I—"
Quinn cut her off. "Zoe, there are things about Janice and about Mom that you don't understand."