Chapter 10

Easily Forgotten

"I don't know what you expect me to do about this, Quinn," Helen said sharply. "She refuses to accept money from us, and Amy says she's dropping out of Raft. It's her decision, and I'm tired of having things thrown back in my face. She's going to ruin her life, and she's made her choices."

"She's dropping Raft and going to a State school because it's what she can afford. And yes, she's being stupid about this whole thing, making things a lot harder than they have to be. Yes, she's made her choices, and I don't agree with them either, but why do you think she made those choices?"

Helen pushed her cup of coffee away and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Jake sat silently, lost in thought.

"Daria chose Trent, just like you chose Dad."

"How dare you make that comparison?" Helen fumed. "It's not the same thing."

"Mom, it is exactly the same thing. And you're reacting just like Grandma Barksdale did."

"You have no right to judge, Quinn. You of all people- what do you know about a committed relationship?"

Quinn sat silently, her face turned away as though she had just been slapped.

"She's chosen a lazy, stupid boy who's going to do nothing but hold her back. Her grades have probably gone to hell since he moved in with her. She's going to wind up supporting him while he does who knows what. How's she even going to do that with a second rate education?"

"Mom, I saw her grades. Trent had them pinned to the wall, right next to her picture. She's maintaining a 4.0 grade point average, even working. And Trent is not lazy. He's working his ass off, paying all of the rent for them, paying for the food, taking care of her and Jane. Daria and Trent love each other, and they are good for each other. You better learn to appreciate that if you want to see your grandchildren!"

"Daria's PREGNANT?"

"NO, MOM!" Quinn screamed, tears in her eyes. "That's not what I mean!" She got up and grabbed her backpack. "Why can't you understand that he makes her happy? When have you ever seen Daria happy?"

"Daria makes herself miserable, Quinn."

"That is not what I saw. You should go and see for yourself. And you should listen to his music and then tell me that he's stupid. Daria would never fall for somebody stupid." She set her backpack on the table, and pulled out what looked like two sheets of heavy corrugated cardboard, lightly taped together. She set it on the table, and angrily walked out the door.

Helen watched as Quinn got in her car and drove off to her early class at Lawndale State. At least she's getting herself in order. All those lost years, not applying herself, acting the part of someone with no depth. Helen had wished that Quinn would have made just a fraction of the effort that Daria had put into her schoolwork, but instead she had seemingly rejected everything that her older sister stood for. The two girls wouldn't compete with each other; even as Helen had tried to bring them to some middle ground, they had dug their heels in like typical Barksdale women.

Now, though, things seemed to have changed. Her eldest, so full of promise…what was she doing? And the two girls had begun to set aside their enmity; Quinn seemed to really miss her older sister. When those boys showed up with that wreck of a van to clear out Daria's old room, Quinn had moved her sister's remaining books and CDs into her own room, and had helped them carefully box up some of those odd medical models. The old bed, dresser and clothes were thrown helter-skelter into the back of the van, to be carted off to who knows where.

Now, months later, the remodeling contractors still not called, Helen wished that she had kept one of Daria's horrid green jackets.

She turned away from the kitchen window, setting her coffee cup in the sink. She picked up her briefcase, and reached for her cell. Next to it was that cardboard packet. Hesitantly, she picked it up, noting that the cardboard was protecting sheets of paper within. She pulled off the strips of tape and found two charcoal drawings, the surfaces protected by sheets of white tissue. Jane's work; beautifully executed, representational; unusual for her.

The first was of Daria asleep at a kitchen table, head down on an open textbook, her old laptop off to one side. Standing behind her, holding two cups of coffee, was Trent. Helen had to admit, he was a handsome, gentle man. He was looking down at her daughter with a quiet smile, curiously similar to that half-smile that would sometimes play across Daria's face. It was no wonder, really, that she had had that crush on the young man as a young teenager.

What had happened? Daria was smart enough to know that the boy was nowhere near her equal, and it seemed that she had moved on, putting the infatuation behind her. At least she had dated that Tom, who was much more suitable for her. While it was not likely to have lasted, he was a very nice young man.

The second drawing was disquieting.

In it, Daria and Trent were embracing. They were sitting on a shabby sofa, and he had his arms wrapped protectively around her, and she was leaning into his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, far from pleased, yet he emanated love and compassion. Had they been arguing? Making up after a fight? Daria's face was twisted into an expression Helen had not seen before, and there were tears running down her face. She hardly ever cried, and when she did, she had always locked herself away in her room, as if ashamed of showing weakness or vulnerability.

She was holding her cellphone in her lap, and Trent was comforting her. Helen felt a twinge of maternal jealousy. Daria had changed with him around, her hard, brittle edges had softened a bit.

Suddenly, Helen's heart sank when she realized when that drawing was made.