All Quinn had wanted was a Baconator. It had been a few weeks since she had gone out for fast food, and that was the only thing she really wanted to eat that day. So after they put their toddler, Mary, down for her nap and asked Sam's parents to keep an eye on her while they were gone, Sam decided that a trip to the drive-thru was just the thing they needed. He'd been working a lot lately, and all he wanted was some extra time to spend with his fiancé.
So they piled into Sam's old, beat up pick-up truck and headed downtown. A light snow was falling which was a nice change from the blizzards that they'd been having all week. Stevie and Stacey had been off of school for three days in a row now because of the weather, and Quinn had spent the day before helping them build what seemed like an army of snowmen with Mary while everyone else was at work.
They went through the Wendy's drive-thru to get their lunch, and Sam traded Quinn little kisses for some of her fries when they had to go through a second time because he had forgotten to order a sandwich for himself.
The drive home was quiet. Sam tried to stick to the back roads, so they could avoid traffic. He hated driving in the winter because people were never careful and only cared about getting where they wanted to go as fast as possible. He didn't mind having to go a little bit out of his way to avoid that. Not when he was with Quinn.
They were only a couple blocks away from home when it happened. The roads hadn't been plowed for a day or two, and the new snowfall had effectively covered the icy patches. And when Sam hit one, he started to lose control of the car.
They started to fish-tail as Sam tried to regain control of the car. There were no other cars on the road, so they weren't in danger of hitting anyone else, but the car started to slide into someone's yard, and Sam swerved to narrowly avoid crashing into their mailbox. He slammed his foot down on the breaks, and soon the car jerked to a stop in the person's yard.
Heart racing, he glanced over at Quinn. Her left hand was gripping the rolled up tops of their takeout bags so tightly that her knuckles were turning white, and she'd thrown her hands up over her eyes as if she hadn't wanted to see it when they crashed. He reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder almost pulling away when she tensed up even more. "Are you okay?"
She nodded her head as she pulled her hands away from her face. That was the only response that he could get from her.
After taking a few minutes to calm down, Sam drove them the rest of the way home making sure to go as slowly as he possibly could. He didn't want to risk that happening again.
Quinn headed to their mini-apartment in the basement as soon as they got home, but Sam wen to tell his parents what happened. After what felt like ages of questions about whether they were okay or not and his mother fussing over him looking for any bumps or bruises, he headed downstairs to be with Quinn.
The takeout bags were left on the table completely untouched. Quinn's coat was hanging up on the hook on the wall at the bottom of the stairs, and her shoes were lined up on the mat. Sam took off his coat and kicked off his shoes before ignoring his food and going to find Quinn.
Just then, Quinn came out of Mary's room carrying their sleeping two year old wrapped up in the comforter from her toddler bed. She set the Mary down on the bed and climbed in after her holding her daughter close to her. Sam climbed in on the other side of their daughter and watched as Quinn brushed the little blond curls away from their daughter's face and kissed her forehead.
Mary looked so peaceful in her sleep clutching the ratty, old stuffed dog that had been Sam's when he was her age in one hand and sucking the thumb of the other.
Quinn was the first to break the silence speaking barely louder than a whisper.
"All I could think about was her not having us anymore."
"I know . . . I love you."
"I love you, too."