Two miles out—that's how far Charlie was from home when his car decided to quit on him. In the two years that he'd owned his pride and joy—a used, dark-green Range Rover from '03–he'd grown quite accustomed to the occasional moan of the engine as the car's mileage hit a new record high with each passing week.

Not to mention the quiet yet consistent, inexplicable sputters it'd emit each time he dared to breach thirty-five; which, of course, earned him too many impatient honks along the road to count.

Quinn offered to take a look on more than one occasion but he refused. Charlie hadn't considered himself a prideful guy by any means but his Rover's sputters and moans were what made it unique, as far as he was concerned. Besides, he doubted that he and Quinn were on civil enough terms for her to conduct such an inspection, anyway. Though that was more his call than hers.

Charlie found himself groaning, nearly matching the final, defeated groan his car mustered out upon giving up for the day, as he pushed it up hill. Just a few blocks till home.

Hearing the sound of another set of tires crushing gravel against the road behind him, he motioned for the driver to go around. But, from the sounds of it, they only slowed down. Charlie relinquished his title as traffic director. Instead, he reached into his car through his window, grabbing a handkerchief that he'd mindlessly tossed into his glove compartment a while back.

Within seconds, it was saturated with perspiration as he gave his forehead a much-needed wipe. The weather outside was cool, but it didn't mean his task left his body feeling as such. He neatly tucked the handkerchief into the back pocket of his khaki pants and proceeded.

"Old Gus quit on you, huh?"

Charlie's shoulders slacked as he let go of the car and turned around. He gave Quinn a somewhat pointed look as she walked towards him and away from her own car that was parked along the sidewalk, just behind his. He didn't know how she knew where to find him let alone how she knew that he was in the predicament to start with; he certainly didn't tell her.

"That's not his name. Her name." Charlie smacked his lips and shook his head, respectively. "It's a car. It doesn't have a name, and if it did, it certainly wouldn't be 'Old Gus'."

The corners of Quinn's mouth spread out into a deep wince. "I don't know. He's always given me 'Old Gus' vibes. People don't name cars; cars name themselves. You just have to listen closely."

Charlie kept pushing, and Quinn looked on. "And I suppose 'she' has a name?" he asked, nodding towards the redhead's beetle.

"It just so happens that he does."

Against his better judgment, Charlie dealt out a snicker, but it was fleeting. "He?"

Quinn's eyes widened and she nodded her head as if it was so obvious. "I have no intention of ever entering another female. That goes for cars, too. Thank God everyone I know all have guys or I'd have to walk most places." She grinned at just how hard Charlie was trying not to engage. He wasn't as good at ignoring her as he'd hoped. "His name is Quinton; goes by Quinn."

The boy's eyebrows stretched towards the center of his forehead as he frowned curiously. Quinn laughed. "It's oddly coincidental, I know. Can't say I disapprove, though. But, in my defense, cars name themselves, remember?"

Charlie's expression readopted the scrunched up way it had about it as he pushed the car up the road that seemed to stretch by the minute. As an onlooker, Quinn nearly lost her backbone.

To combat this, she asked, "You push, I steer?"

She accepted the low-effort, polite smile he briefly flashed her upon inviting her into the driver's seat. Shifting the gear to drive, Quinn sat quietly as they each fell into their agreed upon roles. Charlie gently tugged away at the sleeves of his navy-blue cardigan, careful not to soil his clothes in the process before starting again. Grinning, Quinn observed this. Ever the neat freak, her boyfriend.

Her fingers loosely gripped the steering wheel as she casually guided the car. The task was far too boring to complete in silence, so Quinn decided that they wouldn't. "Only you could make something so boring look so attractive."

Charlie sighed—a response Quinn pretty much expected. Ever since they started dating, he'd noticed she had a knack for dishing compliments his way; especially when she'd done something wrong. No matter how much he tried, usually, the sneaky tactic worked. Just not this time.

"Can we just..." He nodded ahead towards the road.

The spirited tone previously present in Quinn's voice was swept away. "Why are you so pissed?"

That question was too loaded to unpack, so Charlie focused on the surface level issues. "I was supposed to go to my father's this weekend but it looks like I'm gonna be spending the next two days at a repair shop."

He hadn't directly addressed what she really wanted to discuss but Quinn perked up all the same. "I could take you. To see your father, I mean."

"No, thanks." His frown was unforgiving. "You already made it very clear that you don't like him."

Quinn's expression matched his as she looked over at him expectantly. "I never said that. I don't even know him."

"Exactly."

She was accustomed to doing the same but, somehow, Charlie always made one-word responses sting like alcohol on a gunshot wound. She'd received a lot of those infamous one-word responses lately and it wasn't like she was completely ignorant as to why. But it'd been weeks now and, though they saw each other regularly, things were often awkward and forced—two terms she never wanted to associate with Charlie.

If asked, she'd readily inform whoever was curious that she stood by her word. She hadn't met the man that monopolized every one of Charlie's weekends, but she couldn't say she thought very highly of him. Still, she missed the smiles, and the laughs, and the cute texts, and the affection—both the innocent and the not-so. At that point, she was willing to do whatever it took to get that back.

So, in purely Sullivan fashion, as Paloma liked to call it, Quinn sucked it up and said, "I'm sorry."

Charlie kept pushing so she kept steering.

Quinn took it a step further. "The worst thing about your best friend and your boyfriend being the same person is that you don't have anyone to rant to about this kind of stuff. Do you see the predicament I'm in?"

That comment penetrated the stoic expression on Charlie's face; her sneaky tactic proving victorious yet again.

Quinn must've sensed that because it was then that she faced him head on. "I can't take you being mad anymore."

"I'll figure something out." Charlie gave the Rover a tap as he pushed it along. "Maybe get 'Old Gus' up and running before tomorrow. And...I don't wanna be mad at you anymore either, I guess. It's just..." He stopped a block shy of his house, finally extending Quinn his undivided attention. "He's my dad and I care about him a lot, so you can't not like him. I mean, how would you feel if I refused to get along with Paloma or Ross?"

Quinn shook her head. "I don't not like him. Like I said, I don't really know him; only what you've told me about him."

"Yeah, and you've always said that I'm a good judge of character. So, can't you just trust me on this?"

Quinn didn't have much of a response for that. She looked on as Charlie mindlessly ran his fingers along the opening of the window. Her eyes only met his when his serious tone demanded her attention.

"Listen, I know between cousins and aunts and uncles and whatnot, I have more family than you do, but I'm only close with my dad and grandpa. As my girlfriend, I need you to get along with them."

"I'm fine with Wilfred!" she insisted. "I care about him because he cares about you. And maybe I can be okay with your dad, too."

"Maybe?" Charlie's stomach spasmed as he scoffed out a laugh. "I have always accepted and gone above and beyond to get to know everyone you deemed important in your life. Paloma, Ava, Ross, Oliver—whoever—and I'm starting to feel like that's not being reciprocated. That's not fair."

Quinn pondered his assessment. Messily, she twisted a hand up into her red mane and sighed. "You're right, you do, and that isn't fair. I want to know him. And I'm sure I'll come to like him because he's a part of you. Now that I think about it, there's no way a guy that made this can be all bad." Like an affectionate cat, Charlie leaned into the gentle stroke Quinn imposed on his cheek and smiled.

"Wilfred and I could be wrong about him and I so hope that we are." She found the vast green forest in Charlie's eyes and chose her words carefully. "I guess I just worry that sometimes you don't stand up for yourself because you're so nice. I hate the thought of someone taking advantage of that; not treating you as well as you deserve and me not being able to do anything about it."

Charlie's expression softened at the admission. He took her hand from his cheek, covering it with both of his own, then gave it a squeeze. "I suppose it is sweet how protective you are of me. Sentimentality looks good on you."

Suppressing a blush, Quinn wiggled her hand free of his and yielded her gaze elsewhere. "I wouldn't go that far."

"But that's not what this is. And, no matter what, I can handle myself, okay? Which means, though words can't describe how much I appreciate your willingness, I don't need you getting involved." Charlie smiled uncharacteristically, encouraging curiosity in Quinn. "Paloma's rubbed off on you bigtime. I think you're turning into her."

"God, no! My life goal is to achieve the opposite of that! You know this! Don't say that!"

"Too late." He laughed, pushing the car along. "It's already been said."

"I don't know how we'll get past this." Steering, she tsksed. "As a matter of fact, I have half a mind to crash this thing. You know I don't have a good track record with cars. I'll do it."

"It'd hardly matter. It's not in the best shape right now."

"Which is exactly why you should let me drive you to your dad's. Plus, you could introduce me and I could get to know him."

Charlie put off answering until they'd made it into his driveway. Quinn stepped out of the car and wondered if he'd heard her at all.

"That's fair," he said. "But not yet, okay? Not that I don't want you to meet him because I really do. I just wanna get things a little more solid between him and I before dragging you into it, you know? But I've told him all about you." Charlie snaked his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. The gesture was small and innocent yet powerful enough to make the girl feel special. "How you love me enough to help me do stuff like push my car all the way home."

The girl winced. "I don't know. 'Love' is a strong word. 'Tolerate' or 'endure' might be more fitting terms. And that's on our best day, mister."

Dimples of the most prominent form embedded themselves into Charlie's cheeks. At this, Quinn matched his fervent smile. Before journeying inside, Charlie extended his hand; Quinn took it.

Dinner was cold. Ava had suspected as much given that she'd plated the food a good two and half hours ago. In hindsight, she didn't need to rush home to touch-up her makeup, refreshen her perfume, or make dinner. Especially since doing so only earned her an empty house.

Ava had hoped—naively assumed—that things would only get better upon her return home. As bad as it was, she hadn't truly realized how stuffy and upsetting the hotel was until she finally left. The terms lonely, isolated, and cold didn't do it justice. But, lately, she began to think it wasn't the location that was the problem as the loneliness, isolation, and coldness latched onto her there just as tightly as it had at the hotel.

She'd only been back a few days and, already, she'd spent the majority of her time in solitude; waiting by her cellphone for a phone call or the door for a greeting—each of which consistently left her disappointed.

Ava hadn't displayed any affection towards the brunette since their 'drunken mistake', as Paloma called it, back when Ava was living out of a hotel. At night, when she'd reluctantly climb the bed in the guest room like a unwelcomed inhabitant in her own home, Ava found herself trying extra hard to recall Paloma's touch. Usually, her vibrator died before she experienced any real pleasure as most of the event was made fuzzy the night of; a bottle of cheap brandy being the culprit.

Even so, she followed Paloma's lead of taking things slow. Ava was more than willing to do so because it was for Paloma, after all, but because it was Paloma, she was finding it harder and harder not to swoop in and steal a kiss when no was watching or delicately trace Paloma's widow's peak using the pad of her thumb—something Paloma would always flutter her eyes closed and lean into, showing her appreciation through a gentle sigh.

This meant, of course, that they were still on a first name basis. Even after many months apart, that took a lot of taming on Ava's part. Paloma seemed rather content with the arrangement so Ava decided that she should be too.

Thus far, things hadn't gone as planned but being back home still gave her hope and a sense of purpose—two things she expected to remain foreign to her for a long time. She picked over her meal, tossing Siberia a few bits of bacon along the way—a reward for keeping her company.

Just when she'd considered accepting defeat, Ava heard a key turn in the front door. Grinning, she glanced at the time. Nine o'clock. Far later than she'd hoped but still somewhat early for Paloma.

Ironing out her blouse with her hands, she stood and started for the front door as casually as possible. Her gentle smile evolved into a one born out of curiosity when Quinn stepped inside. Ava peeked behind the girl, hoping the elder Sullivan would be trailing close behind. She wasn't.

Ava sank. It was only then that she noticed Quinn staring back at her. Chuckling, she stepped away, freeing Quinn from the corner she unintentionally backed her into.

"Thought you were Paloma," explained Ava.

Quinn shut the door. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Not at all. I'm glad you're finally home safe. It's a little late. You had me worried there for a bit. Anyway, I didn't mean—"

"Paloma's working late again tonight. Probably won't be home for a couple hours, at least. I wouldn't wait up."

Ava frowned. "How do you know?"

The teenager shrugged off her jacket, tossing it onto the coat rack before beginning the hike up the staircase. She peeked over her shoulder, glancing at the woman. "She always calls when she'll be late."

Eyebrows pinched together, Ava checked her notifications. They were just as nonexistent as she'd expected. Before the girl could disappear altogether, Ava hastened out a, "Wait?"

For the first time since Ava could remember, Quinn did as she asked. Quinn stopped wearing the necklace Ava had gotten her for her sweet sixteen and, worse, Ava wasn't quite sure how long that'd been the case. Despite recent events, somehow, that was unexpected; making it hurt twice as bad. Ava had the last couple of weeks to stomach the new normal, but the realization still startled her. With the shake of her head, she banished the observation.

"Are you hungry? I made dinner." Ava gave Siberia an apologetic glance. "And I'm not all that interested in only eating with nonhuman companions." She couldn't read Quinn's expression. Thankfully, she didn't have to.

Shrugging, Quinn asked, "Watcha got?"

Ava took the crumb and ran with it. "A ton of stuff! Pancakes and bacon, egg rolls and rice, macaroni and cheese, chicken and waffles—"

Quinn couldn't suppress her abrupt laughter. Catching herself, she dialed it back then straightened her posture. "Chicken and waffles?"

Ava inhaled dramatically, pleasantly, as if the meal were right in front of her. "A southern staple. You've got a lot to learn, kid. And there may or may not be chocolate cake in the mix."

Quinn's eyebrows rose ever so slightly. Smirking bashfully, Ava nodded. "I know what you're thinking but I've cooled down on the whole 'healthy eating' thing, lately, which I'm sure you guys will appreciate." She laughed, though Quinn sensed that it was forced. "I've only dialed it back a little, though, so don't get any big ideas. But it's okay to cut loose sometimes and Fridays are made for just that." Ava motioned towards the dining room and smiled. "Anyway, the idea was to put Golden Corral to shame, and I think I've succeeded. Come check it out?"

Silence nursed the supplication as Quinn considered it. There was no telling when Paloma would return and the only thing Quinn imagined being worse than having dinner with Ava was having dinner with Ava alone.

Continuing up the stairs, Quinn patted her thigh to conjure Siberia who joined her as she said, "I'm good."

Quinn's movements were fast but Ava's tongue was faster. "I understand that things between us can't be how they were before. I think it really sucks considering I absolutely cannot stand the thought of you and I not being close. But I get it because all of it is a hundred and ten percent my fault. I own that. But come on, kid. I mean, you and me..." She scoured the ceiling in search for the right words, only finishing her thought when she found them. "We're family. There's no other way to describe it. And I'm really tryin' here."

Quinn wasn't sure how to respond, so she didn't attempt to do so. Ava teased her lips with her tongue to settle her nerves. Her eyes underwent a transformation; from frustrated to frightened they went. "What can I do?"

There was a long pause as Quinn truly considered the question for the first time. Producing an exhale rich in exhaustion, she met Ava's gaze. "I don't know."

"You listen to Christmas music year-round?"

Warding off an impending grin, Paloma tongued her cheek and bored her gaze into her dinner—a receding carton of shrimp lo mein. She bit the bullet. "Maybe..."

"I'm sorry but there's absolutely nothing okay about that." Triumphant grin on full display, Calvin got comfortable in his chair and watched Paloma take offense.

"It's not my fault! Growing up, Quinn always had a knack for that. She'd throw a tantrum the entire car ride unless we played something Christmas-related. A three-year-old calling the shots." Dramatically, Paloma rolled her eyes at the memory. "Can you imagine? It was insane. In my family, you either got with the program or lived miserably so I, reluctantly, chose the former. Luckily, the tantrums subsided but not the music." She handed him the framed picture of herself and the girl that sat at the corner of her desk. "It's still her thing."

Calvin's eyes softened at the half smile that adorned the redhead's lips, paling in comparison to Paloma's whose chin sat perched atop of her sister's head; her arms wrapped around Quinn snugger than wrapping on a Christmas present.

"Looks a lot like you." Carefully, he returned the frame to its throne on her desk where it belonged. "I'll have to meet her sometime. Sounds like she's good at corrupting you. I should take notes."

"'Corrupting' is definitely the right term. Don't get me wrong, I've done a little corrupting of my own over the last sixteen years which means she's a total asshole at least fifty percent of the time." Paloma chuckled and Calvin did the same. "But she's a really good kid."

"Well, she has you as a sister so I don't doubt that."

Teasingly, Paloma narrowed her eyes. "So, lemme get this straight. First, you demand to know where I am just so you can bring me dinner, then, you willingly let me talk your ear off, and now you top it off with compliments? For your sake, I'm so hoping you didn't come here thinking that that perfect combination would be sufficient enough to charm your way into these business casual pants. Because, my good sir," she said, smirking, "it is not."

He raised his hands in surrender. "What can I say? I was bored. Besides, you're the one that gave me the address. I don't think this is as one-sided as you're trying to convince yourself that it is." Content with himself, he let the smile that tugged away at his lips come to fruition. "I'm growin' on ya."

"You were 'bored'. Right." Paloma snickered and picked over her dinner. "I've used that line before, too. Anyway, you tell anyone about the Christmas music thing and I'll kick your ass. My little sister doesn't know because I refuse to give her the insinuation that she won. Otherwise, she'll start throwing tantrums to get what she wants. As if that doesn't already happen often enough." The brunette smirked. "My girlfriend doesn't even know that about me, and I'd like to keep it that way. Not exactly something I'm proud of."

Calvin sat his takeout on her desk then mindlessly ran a hand over his mouth one good time. "Girlfriend's back in the mix, huh?"

At this, Paloma's smile waned as she ate her words. She sat up, moving her legs from their propped up position on her desk until they were planted flat on the floor. "Well, I mean..." She shrugged. "It's extremely new. I'm not totally sure what to label it but it's something, I guess."

Slowly but surely, he nodded in understanding. "Been there."

"That means you know just how pleasant it is, I take it?"

Calvin drew his laugh from a place deep in his belly. "I do."

Paloma's eyebrows knitted together as she let herself fall prey to some thinking she'd put off for far too long. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing."

"She's the one that messed up, right? That means, for now, you're the one calling the shots."

Paloma couldn't have agreed more. "I made that clear on day one. Only thing is...I don't know what shots I wanna call."

"Easy. She demands too much too fast, let her know. She oversteps, let her know. If it's not working...let her know. Seeing a pattern here?" Paloma probed her noodles but never said a word. "Either way, you should figure that out; make some decisions. Then make a call. Something you can live with."

With that, Calvin finished off his dinner, trashing the remains shortly thereafter, and stood to his feet. Witnessing this, Paloma followed suit.

"I should head out," he said. "Let you get some actual work done."

Paloma matched his small smile before allowing it to evolve into a wince. "Yeah, I should've gotten way more done tonight. But seeing you was worth it." Paloma backtracked to combat the sneaky grin Calvin was slowly forming. "You bought me dinner and drove all the way here. I'd be a dick not to think so."

Nodding, he said, "I'll take it."

Calvin reached for the door, only to find it opening on its own accord. He looked on in curiosity as a woman with green eyes and height not quite as generous as his own entered the room, juggling a small stack of Tupperware in her arms.

From the looks of it, she appeared just as surprised as he was. Ava put on a polite yet confused smile—an expression Calvin readily returned. The woman didn't know whether she should feel more relaxed or guarded upon spotting Paloma.

"Hi..." Her eyes popcorned back and forth between the two. "Is this an office party I wasn't invited to?"

It wasn't until Calvin glanced her way that Paloma recognized her cue to step in. "A party here always consists of outdated decorations, bad music, and somebody flashing somebody else at least once. This is no office party, thank God."

Calvin dealt another polite smile Ava's way then peeked over his shoulder at Paloma. "I'll leave you to it."

Ava observed the man until he was too far away to be seen. In doing so, her eyes were more suspicious than she cared to admit—something she hoped Paloma didn't catch. She realized she was in the clear when she turned to see that Paloma had already returned to her desk.

She halfway motioned towards the door. "Didn't know your department got a new hire." No response. "Or that his training would take place late at night."

The vain in Paloma's neck responded with a violent spasm. "We didn't so it doesn't."

Ava nodded, hoping her voice would come out even and unsuspecting. She failed.  "Then...what was that?"

"So, you went from office party to new employee and now to..." Ava didn't fill her in, prompting Paloma to cross her arms over her chest. "What? What are you insinuating?"

The directness of the question made Ava rethink what she'd said. She swallowed thickly and shook her head. "I'm not insinuating anything. Unless...should I?"

Paloma couldn't mask her aggravation if she tried. Lately, it was the only emotion she'd experienced when Ava was involved, and, that night, Ava reminded her exactly why that was.

"What are you doing here?"

During the drive over, Ava couldn't suppress her smile but now it was nowhere to be found. "I brought dinner."

"Already ate. Wish you called. Could've saved you the trip."

"I wish you called, too."

"I've actually got a lot more to do before hangin' it up for the night, so if there's nothing else..."

Not quite the warm welcome Ava was hoping for. She set the Tupperware down on the desk. Ava's tone was gentler and curiouser than Paloma's. "You've worked late every night these past two weeks."

Paloma didn't want her tone to become testy but, upon speaking, she realized she hardly had a say in the matter. "I've worked late every night of every week for the last several months, actually. Kind of comes with the territory." She threw in a laugh to lighten the mood but Ava didn't bite.

"It really doesn't. I don't get paid overtime and neither do you."

"It's not about the money."

Ava dipped her head to lure Paloma's gaze but was unsuccessful. Still, she asked, "Then what is it about?"

"Proving to our boss that I can carry my department on my own; that I don't need to be babysat by Claudette or vice versa. Nor should I have ever been anyone's second choice for department manager. I'm doing twice the work she is yet I have to share the recognition. It's bullshit." She performed a self-assured nod. "I'm gonna make him see that. I'm tired of feeling second best so I'm gonna do everything I can to become the best."

That was true, really. But it wasn't the whole truth which was no secret to either of them.

"You don't have anything to prove to anyone. You're already the best."

"Yeah, well, no one else seems to think so. You have been at the top for years. I mean, our boss only assigned me the project with the hospital because you were doing it, too. And I'm only co-department manager because Claudette is incompetent half the time. Still, they refuse to fire her. I'm a glorified babysitter. An assistant. That's all I've ever been here." She shut her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "I have sacrificed and dedicated so much of myself to this place. And for what?"

Ava wanted to reach out but knew she shouldn't. She thanked their physical and emotional distance for keeping herself in check.

Looking in no particular direction, Paloma narrowed her eyes. "You can't even begin to understand what it's like to constantly have to prove yourself here and, in attempting to do so, fail, at that." After a moment, she convinced herself to look up at Ava. "Not to say that anything was handed to you because I know for a fact that it wasn't. You worked extremely hard to get where you are today and I'm...proud. I just want that for myself, too."

"You're right. I have been here for years, and, during that time, I've watched you work your ass off like no one else ever has. And, because of that, I know more than anyone that you have never once failed at anything. Now, if you don't consider that the best then fine. But it's pretty damn close to it."

The brunette zeroed in on her screen, focusing for the first time that night. "I'm not there yet but I intend to be."

"I understand where you're coming from and I'm so glad that you finally told me what's going through your head." Paloma waited patiently as Ava immediately, inevitably, gave her concerns a voice. "But I don't think it's such a good idea for you to be working this much and so late." Her words were calculated. Careful. "We both know how stressful it all can get, even without the extra hours, and with your sobriety and all...is that something you're willing to risk?"

That was a legitimate concern so Paloma tried to keep that in mind when she answered. "It's not at risk. I'd never risk that. Not being sober means potentially losing my sister which is not on the table. I'm off the sauce for good. I thought I made that clear."

Ava kicked herself. "You did. I'm just checking in, I guess. Wanna make sure you're okay juggling it all by yourself. Only 'cuz, you know, you don't have to. I'm here. Always."

She couldn't read Paloma's expression. These days, she never could. "Quinn missed you tonight. Well, she didn't say that she did but I could sense it. It's a redhead thing."

Paloma chuckled. "Right. Well, she must've turned over a brand-new leaf. I can't say for sure but, knowing my sister, I highly doubt she ever spent those late nights alone. But, honestly, as long as she was doing okay in school and he was out before I got back in, then I let her live. That's changed now that you're back, I'm sure." She didn't slow her typing. "As you can see, I'm gunning for the parent of the year award."

Ava followed up her small laugh with a brave inhale. "Well, for what it's worth, I missed you." Boldly, she took it a step further. "Still do." Paloma didn't respond, so she felt justified in giving the brunette a gentle nudge. Finally, Paloma stopped what she was doing and looked up at the writer's soft features. Ava asked, "When are you coming home?"

Paloma genuinely felt bad when she said, "It could be a while."

"I don't mind waiting. Actually, there's a massive stack of paperwork I have to—"

"No." Paloma relaxed her tone. "What I mean is, that's sweet but I'll see you at home, okay?" She rushed to put Ava's suspicions to rest. "It's not that I don't want you here. I just need someone there to hold down the fort; be there for Quinn."

Ava dropped her head ever so slightly, presenting a laugh that was void of humor and rich in puzzlement. "I thought that wasn't my place." Her seriousness grew. "That's what you said."

Again, Paloma ate her words but not quite as much as Ava probably anticipated. "What I said was that I refuse to be a third wheel; for you guys to keep things from me; for you to make decisions about her then lie to me about them. How things were before, that didn't work. So, until we figure out a new way—"

"I'm the lucky son of a gun that gets the indefinite, illustrious title of 'third wheel'. Sounds like a plan. You'll be glad to know that Quinn is very much on board with that and, apparently, so are you. Guess that just leaves me." Ava wet her lips then dared to step closer. "Paloma, I'm a part of this family, too."

Paloma ran a hand over her face then leaned back in her seat as she carefully broke the news. "That's not your decision to make."

It pained Paloma to say but likely not as much as it did for Ava to hear. The mahogany-haired woman scooped up the
Tupperware, meeting Paloma's apologetic expression with a small smile.

"The sooner I leave, the sooner you can finish up and come home. You're right. I'll go." She started towards the door before her upset could be made known.

Ava was closer to the exit than Paloma was but, somehow, they made it there at the same time.

"I appreciate you checkin' in. Seriously. No matter what, you're always looking out for me. You don't know what that's meant to me all these years; what it still means to me." Paloma's lips arced into a smile that Ava almost missed as she focused on blinking away the sting in her eyes.

"And, Ava...it won't always be like this. You, Quinn, and I, we'll figure it out. Just like we always do. We'll make a decision; something we all can live with. I'll find a way." At that instant, Paloma broke her own rule by reaching out and giving Ava's shoulder a tiny squeeze. "I promise."

The touch was unsure and cautious, but it was also sincere. Therefore, Ava's smile was the same. The sting in her eyes intensified but for an entirely different reason that time. "I know you will."