Quinn quickly turns, coming face to face with her mother, "Mom...I didn't see-"
"I asked what happened." Sharon says a little stronger. She moves away from her daughter, closing the door and turning the lamp on that rests on the side table. Sharon edges the young woman's sweater down, seeing the bruising to her upper arm, examining it.
"I fell." She answers, quickly. Probably a little too quickly.
"I do not believe that is true." She swallows, having seen this before many times, "Quinny, they are finger impressions. Who did this?"
"I will tell you later...Okay?"
"I want to know now." Sharon meets her eyes, attempting to keep tears from her own. Someone hurt her little girl and she'd kill them.
"I just might need to stay here for a little while." Quinn gently adjusts her sweater again, "Is that okay?"
"Of course." She wraps her arms around the young woman, "Of course it is."
The young woman swallows, returning her embrace. She was never particularly affectionate, especially with her family. She knew her mother could tell she was acting differently. Quinn nods, "Is Rusty here yet?"
Sharon swallows, putting her at arm's length and quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "Yes. He and your brother were having a chat in the living room."
"Oh God, Mom, please don't cry. You can cry later." She smirks, "I'm here now, he isn't. That's what matters, isn't it?"
The police captain nods, "I still couldn't protect you."
"Later. Remember? We're going to talk about this later." Quinn places her forehead against her mother's, something she's done ever since she was small when she thought her mother wasn't listening to her, "I'll tell you everything you want to know. When?"
"Later, I got it." Sharon steps over, looking at her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. She waves her hands at her eyes in an attempt to get them to stop tearing up, "Are you hungry? We can order something."
"I am actually. I am really in the mood for Chinese food...and a vegan chocolate shake. Like...together." She grins, that smile something she shares with her mother, "Sweet and sour shrimp with a chocolate shake." Quinn waves her head back and forth, "Or maybe some fried chicken."
"Are you a bottomless pit?" She adjusts her makeup before sliding on her glasses that were resting on the dresser, "How do I look?"
"Like my sister." She motions for them to leave the room, "No mention of this to Jack...or Sam."
"That's going to be hard."
"You've never told us things until you knew all the facts. Remember?" Quinn smirks, "So let's not change up your pattern."
Sharon looks to her above her glasses, "Fine." She walks past her daughter, opening the door and returning to where the others are. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
Rusty shrugs, sitting in the wingback chair, "It's fine. Hungry as hell though."
"Yes, how do you all feel about Chinese food?" The matriarch of the family looks to the men, watching her daughter walk past her to the kitchen.
"All squishy inside." Sam smirks, laughing to himself.
"One conversation, please. I'd like one conversation where people actually answer a question without sarcasm." Sharon nods to her son, giving both he and Rusty a look, "Rusty, show everyone the menu. please. Get whatever you want. I mean it."
"So, if I want five hundred chicken wings-" Quinn smirks, sipping cranberry juice she was able to find.
"You would have killed two hundred and fifty chickens...and they would be delicious." Jack chuckles, rising from his seat.
Rusty grins, "I think I like it here." He laughs, doing what was requested of him.
"You would." Sharon sighs, closing her eyes a moment with frustration, "Write everything down, please, and I am not ordering five hundred chicken wings from a Chinese food store."
"Damn." Sam smirks.
Both of her children had their father's temperament, at least, when he was sober and when she first met him. His humor was what drew her to him, his ruggedly good looks didn't exactly hinder the attraction either. Next to her father, he was the smartest man she knew. Still is. Though his talents were wasted on alcohol and gambling addictions, there was still something attractive about him. The fact that he and their children were actually getting along for a change, brought warmth to her heart, and the fact that Rusty fit right in with the rest of them, made her know this was going to be great.
After ordering, the food arrives within twenty minutes after placing the call. The family sits around the dinner table, cartons spread throughout.
"Rusty's made all state with his chess team. They're really great." Sharon grins to her foster son, causing the teenager to blush.
"Awesome." Quinn smirks to him.
"So, Sammie, how are your studies?" Jack picks his head up, looking at the end of the table to his son.
Sam picks his head up, nodding quickly, "Fine." He answers simply, too simply. The young man pushes the hair from his eyes to behind his ear.
It causes Sharon's to pick her head up from her chicken and vegetables, able to tell when suspects were lying, it was even worse if you were her child. "Yes, where are you in your studies?"
He sighs, "Look...I've been working, alright. School wasn't for me." He swallows, "I know you wanted me to go to school and make something of myself, but I got a really great job in a school and I really like it."
"A school?" His mother smiles softly, "What do you do?"
"I teach physical education. You only need an associate degree to do so and since I already had that..." Sam nods, "I hope you two aren't too disappointed."
"No, honey, that's fantastic." Sharon nods, getting up from her seat, going to the fridge and retrieving the bottle of wine. She pours some in her own glass, and that of her son's. She then moves to her daughter's glass and tilts the bottle.
"No, no, I'm fine." Quinn shakes her head, "I'd like to try some of the sparkling whatever you're forcing Rusty to drink."
"It isn't that bad." Rusty shakes his head.
Sharon raises an eyebrow, looking down to her daughter, "You're turning down a glass of your favorite wine that I go out of my way to buy every year for you...for us..." Sharon sorts things in her head. She places the bottle on the table, "Quinn." The woman's face begins to soften with shock.
"Mom-" Quinn warns.
"That's what was different about you when you came to the door." She shakes her head, "Are you pregnant?"
"I'm going to excuse myself now. I'm suddenly not very hungry."
"Quinny, is this true?" Jack's face lights up, watching his only daughter.
Quinn stands up from her seat, stalking to walk toward the bedrooms. Better to say nothing rather than something one would regret.
"Quinn." Sam calls.
The young woman snaps around, glaring toward her mother, "Jesus fucking Christ, the great detective Sharon Raydor strikes again. Can anyone have a fucking secret in this family?" She turns again, retiring to the bedroom she is sharing with her mother.
Jack continues to smile, "Shar…we're going to be grandparents." The man is overjoyed and it's painfully obvious.
Sharon stands there a moment, looking to nothing in particular, "This…may not be a good thing." She slowly returns to her seat. She leans back, taking a sip of her wine.
"What? Because she's not married? Sharon, I seem to remember-"
"Not the place nor the time, Jack." She shakes her head.
Rusty bites his lip, "I can try talking to her."
"That, is a terrible idea." Sharon takes a sip from her glass, "Let her cool down."
"I'm…She has no reason to be pissed off at me." He shakes his head, "Let me try."
"It was nice knowing you." Sam nods, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth, "She likes to be alone. Let's finish dinner. Me and you can go chill."
"It is Christmas Eve." Sharon looks to her son.
"And? I didn't say we were going golfing or on a boat ride. We're just going to go hang out. We'll be back in a few hours. It will give you time with Dad and maybe some time to talk to...ya know...Quinn." He shrugs, "But, hell, what do I know."
"Kid got a point." Jack nods, always more of a charming observer, "Bet your students think you're great."
"I wouldn't know." Sam smirks
"Sure you would." He looks to his son, "How are your students?"
"Smart as hell. Smarter than me."
Sharon glances across the table as her husband and son chat. She makes eye contact with Rusty and offers him a small smile. She knew she was ruining his holiday. Hopefully the gifts she purchased for him would make up for it.
Rusty smirks, leaning over toward her, "I'm calling you Granny for now on."
She playfully scowls to him over her glasses, "How is your dinner?" She takes another sip of her wine.
He shrugs, "Fine." He smirks, "Can't say I've ever had such entertainment before...or a holiday dinner where we all sat at a table and stuff. They'd usually make me go to my room. So...this is an improvement."
Sharon leans over, gently touching his arm, "You know, we could inflate the bed, and all watch movies in the living room." She smiles.
"Mom, we haven't done that since I was in the fourth grade." Sam shakes his head.
"I don't remember ever doing that." Jack looks between his son and his wife.
"You weren't there." The young man answers simply, shrugging, "We'll do whatever you want, Mom." He nods, wanting to make the holiday pleasant for the woman as well. He knows that if she's happy, then the foster son would be happy. He's been around enough teenagers on a daily basis to know that.
"Whatever you want, Sharon." Rusty smiles to her, knowing something was off between she and her daughter and that Sharon was nervous as hell..
"Since we are all here for a few nights, possibly tomorrow?" Sharon looks around the table, smiling when she sees nods from the men at the table, "I believe it is best if I tend to Quinn."
Sam nods, "I'll clean up. Then, Rusty, we'll go?"
Rusty nods, nervously smiling.
"Good night, gentlemen. The inflatable bed is in the hallway closet." Sharon stands, going to each one and kissing them on the cheek, even Jack. She sways toward her bedroom.
Jack looks to his son, "So...would you mind if I tagged along with the two of you?"
"Uh." Sam shrugs, "I mean, you can, but I don't know what time we'll be back and I know you're kind of old and stuff." He teases.
"I got the message." The older man smirks, "So, Rusty, chess team. You play any sports?"
Rusty shakes his head, "Not really. I'm not really into other sports. I mean, baseball sometimes, but...I was never in one place long enough to join a team that ya had to pay for...or show up to things. Chess team didn't matter that much. Gave me something to do and perfect when I was alone."
Jack nods, "You could now if you wanted to. You could join an actual sports team, you know."
"I'm fine. I like chess."
Sam sighs, "Dad, let him be." He stands, collecting the plates from the table, "I played football...for a long time."
"As did I." Jack nods, "Football and baseball. Was named All State three years running."
"Please, don't get him started, Rusty."
"My high school sports career was legendary." The man says louder, smirking.
Rusty grinned, watching their banter. He's learned, mostly through his months of living with Sharon Raydor, to observe more than just speaking all the time. That one would learn more about a person or their relationship with others by noticing body movements or miniscule things said. He gets up, helping with the dishes.
Sharon looks down to her daughter, who lies curled up on her side, facing away from the door. She's unsure whether to say anything, or to touch the young woman to make her aware of her presence.
Quinn can feel her presence, able to smell her perfume, "I wasn't ready to say anything yet."
"Honey, you show up with bruises...and you're pregnant." She shakes her head, "What happened?"
"I was afraid to say anything to you." She doesn't move, unsure if she is able to say anything with just her mother, "I still don't know if I can."
"We made a deal." Sharon nods, sitting behind her daughter on the bed. Reaching a hand to her head, she begins to stroke the young woman's lively brunette auburn hair. "If you are unable to just...talk, I can ask questions."
"Fine." Quinn blinks, instantly relaxing from the touch of her mother.
"How far along are you?
"I knew that was going to be your first question." She smirks a little.
"What did you expect, Quinny?" Sharon begins to grin.
"I'm in my eighteenth week." Quinn slowly rolls onto her back, looking up at her mother.
She catches herself glancing down to her daughter's abdomen, then back to her face, "And you thought it was best not to say anything?"
"I didn't say anything to anyone except my doctor."
"That was my next question." Sharon nods, "You're receiving prenatal care?"
"Of course. I may be stubborn, but I'm not stupid." Quinn smirks.
"Sex?"
"Yes, I did have that." She laughs a little to herself before sighing, "No, every time I go, the technician can't get a good view. I do, however, know there are two of them in there."
"Two...twins?" Sharon's eyes widen, "You're having twins?"
"Looks that way. Their father has twins that run on his side." Quinn watches her mother closely as she slowly reaches a hand out to touch her daughter's abdomen finally, "Please, say something."
"I'm sorry." She pulls back, knowing her daughter to be fickle about uninvited touch.
The young woman shakes her head, "Mom, you're fine."
Sharon bites her lip, placing her hand back, "What about their father?"
"I don't want anything to do with him. I'd rather do this alone and be dirt poor instead of telling him a single thing about these children."
"Was he a boyfriend?"
Quinn nods slowly, "I've been living with him for the past few months, but...He, um..."
Sharon can feel her eyes begin to sting as they well up with tears and removes her glasses, setting them on her bedside table, "Is this boyfriend of yours the reason for the bruising?"
She sighs, "You see, if I tell you everything, you're going to want to go after him...and I don't want that."
The older woman nods slowly, "Men cannot be allowed to get away with hurting women."
"That isn't what I mean." Quinn swallows, "I left him."
"That's a start." Sharon watches her, "Now tell me something that will keep me from going to his house and bashing his head in."
"I didn't tell him about the babies right away. I was going to surprise him." She nods, "And...I know he can be sweet and he can be gentle, but...when he gets angry, he gets very angry."
"Has he hurt you before?"
Quinn licks her lips, unsure of how much she should tell her mother, "Let's just stick with-"
"He has." Sharon breathes out.
"I loved him though...I could deal and he was the father of my children, so...I could put up with it from time to time."
"No, honey, that is never okay. You are so smart and yet-"
"You put up with it with Dad for years." Quinn meets her eyes.
"No, he never once hit me. He would get overzealous when he was drunk, but that is the extent." Sharon watches the young woman, "He was never abusive. A snide comment here and there, but that was all, Quinn."
The young woman feels her own tears forming, "I just...I wanted him to love me as much as I loved him."
She closes her eyes, looking away from her daughter. Such a simple statement and yet so heartbreaking to her, "As long as I can help it, he will never come near you again and he will never lay a hand on my grandchildren."
Quinn begins to chuckle, quickly bringing a hand up to wipe a tear trickling to her temple, "Grandchildren." She covers her mother's hand when she realizes it's still resting there.
"It sounds odd to me as well." Sharon smirks, "Did you want to get changed?"
"I forgot to bring something to sleep in..." She smiles softly, "I was...kind of in a hurry."
"I see. Let me see what I can find for you." She leans down, softly kissing her daughter at her eyebrow before rising from the bed.
