Chapter 23
Finn
“This way,” I tell Millie, placing a hand on her back to guide her toward the door of Maggie’s.
In the setting sun, this street is a completely different world. The cafés and shops illuminate their patios with candles
and dim lanterns, and twinkly lights hang over the road, giving the whole area an undeniably romantic feel.
She stops as we reach the door and grins up at me, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the lights above us. I scan the
slopes of her cheeks, the freckles across her nose, the rich pink of her lips, and the slightest bit of cleavage above the
neckline of her Neptune-blue dress.
She’s fucking breathtaking.
We haven’t seen each other since Lena picked her up last Saturday, and the craving to be near her has been a constant ache
in my lungs.
“You are so beautiful,” I whisper, unable to stop myself.
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Thank you.”
I nod and keep my lips pressed shut before I say something more. This isn’t supposed to be a date, and I don’t want to push
her past her limits.
Pulling open the door, I bring us into the dark dining area. Chairs are stacked on the tables, and the usual whir of the espresso machine is missing. I steer Millie to the swinging half door that leads behind the counter. The coffee shop closed a few hours ago, but we have an appointment with Maggie this evening.
Her feet pause on the threshold like she’s hit a barrier. “We can’t go back there.”
“We’re super special guests tonight.” I wink and pull her hand until she starts moving again.
Millie gasps when she sees what’s waiting for us through the kitchen door—stainless steel worktables and Maggie with a whole
slew of things we’re going to get to work on. Millie looks over her shoulder at me like I’ve produced her personal version
of paradise.
“Good evening,” Maggie greets us with a grin. She pauses from rolling out some sort of pastry dough to dust her hands down
her espresso-colored apron.
“Do we get to see your process?” Millie asks, turning in a circle to examine every nook and cranny of the kitchen. Open shelves
fill one wall, covered in endless baking ingredients I could never identify. A few commercial ovens and refrigerators line
the sides, along with shelves full of supplies.
“You’re doing it yourself.” Maggie laughs, stepping around the table to hug Millie. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you
in weeks.”
“Oh, just busy,” Millie says with a hint of evasiveness. “I miss it here, though.”
Surprise flickers through me. I didn’t know she hadn’t been here in weeks. I haven’t seen her here since the time she saw
her ex.
Is that why?
Laying my hand on her lower back, I make a mental note to ask her about that later.
“Well, I’m happy to see you.” Maggie waves around the kitchen. “I heard you’ve been trying to make almond croissants at home, and it hasn’t been working.” She moves to a rolling shelf of baking trays and pulls out two of them.
Millie looks at me with mock betrayal. “You told her that? Can’t tell this guy anything,” she grinds out and bumps me with
her hip.
Maggie chuckles. “Well, be happy he did, because he’s hired me to teach you while I prep for tomorrow.”
***
“They’re perfect!” Millie claps as Maggie pulls the tray of croissants out of the oven.
Maggie has been so patient and kind for the last hour while she taught Millie as much as she could about making croissants.
She had prepared a few different stages of the dough ahead of time so that Millie could do an expedited version of the steps.
I had no idea making croissants was a multiday process.
As they work, Millie has been entertaining Maggie with details of my own kitchen disasters, but that’s alright.
She can tease me all she wants when she looks at me with that smile. The one that illuminates the whole room and melts me from the inside out.
“Now, while these cool for a few minutes,” Maggie says, carefully picking up the first almond croissant and setting it on
a rack, “you two go enjoy your dinner.” She nods toward the door to the front of the shop.
In the dining area, we find a table in the middle, lit by candles that Maggie snuck out here and set up a few minutes ago.
The strings of lights from outside shine through the windows, and the shop’s perpetual coffee smell fills the air. I didn’t
ask for this romantic setup; I only hired her for the croissant-making. But I have to admit it’s perfect.
Millie drapes her apron and purse over her chair and slides into the seat with her back to the window. She scans the meal in front of her before taking a spoonful of tomato soup.
A little moan escapes her as she closes her eyes and savors it. “So good.” I take my own bite as she asks, “Want to play a
game?”
“Always.” I nod.
“It’s called Game of Firsts. We take turns asking each other about our firsts of something, and for every answer, you get
a point. If you don’t want to answer, you lose a point. Winner makes the loser do a dare.”
I smile as my mind conjures a list of dares I could request of her. “I can’t wait to win.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “Then you’ll be sorely disappointed.”
I drum my fingers on the linen tablecloth, already feeling my competitiveness moving through my veins. “You go first.”
“I’ll start off easy. First girlfriend?” She poses the question and dips the corner of her sandwich in her soup.
“Kelly Watson. Sixth grade.”
Millie squints at me. “And...”
“You want details?”
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Of course I want details.”
“She was very nice, did well in math, which was important to me at the time, and she ended up breaking up with me because
she had a crush on Chad Michael Murray and needed the free time to work on meeting him.”
Millie winces in sympathy. “That’s tough,” she says, biting her lips to hold in her laugh. “I have to tell you, though. I
wasn’t great at math and definitely had a crush on Chad Michael Murray. So I don’t know if it’ll work between us,” she teases with a raised
brow.
The fact that she’s even joking about an us makes me grin from ear to ear. “Well, math abilities are no longer on my list of relationship criteria, so you’re off the hook with that one. But the Chad Michael Murray thing may be a deal-breaker for me. I’ll have to think about it.”
She nods understandingly.
“First job,” I prompt.
“Does working at the farm count? I helped with every chore my parents would let me. Then I worked as a lifeguard at the city
pool after senior year. That one summer was enough for my lifeguarding career. I never wanted to be in charge of babysitting
teenage boys in a pool ever again.”
“Hmm. Millie in a lifeguard suit, rescuing teenage boys who are pretending to drown,” I grumble. “Did you have to give them
mouth-to-mouth?”
“No. Thank goodness for that.” Her attention dips to my mouth before she asks her next question. “First kiss?” She sets her
soup spoon down beside her bowl like she needs full concentration for this one. “Was it with a Princess Leia poster?”
“Ha ha,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “Picture those English sheepdogs, with long hair all over, hanging in their eyes. They
have these big tongues sort of lolling about all the time. Imagine one of those licking all over your face and inside your
mouth. And you’re trying to be a good person and not say anything, but it’s a lot of slobber, so you try to last as long as
you can.”
Millie smiles, shaking her head.
“Kayla Jones told me that was how I kissed her the first time.”
Millie throws her head back with unbridled laughter, and I can’t help but join her, even though it’s at my own expense. When
she looks back at me, she wipes a tear from her eye. “Oh, no. I’m hoping you’ve gotten better since then.”
“Undeniably.” I nod. “Tell me about your first kiss.”
“Middle school dance with Shane, my first boyfriend. My friends had warned me that he was going to kiss me at this dance, so I’d prepared myself as much as I could. I only had a little fruit punch and no snacks. I even wiped my lip gloss off so the kiss wouldn’t be slimy. Then ‘Angel’ by Shaggy came on, and Shane asked me to dance. And he kissed me. It was just a peck, but then I had the terrorizing thought that if I opened my mouth, our braces might get stuck together.”
She looks at me with big eyes, and I’m already laughing. “How did no one mention that?” she continues. “I was so terrified
someone was going to call my parents and we’d have to sit in the car with our faces stuck together while we drove to the orthodontist
to get pulled apart. So I shut my lips tight and put my head on his shoulder for the rest of the song.” She takes a sip of
tea and shrugs. “He kissed another girl on a bus ride two weeks later and dumped me.”
“Asshole.”
“Totally.” She puts a hand under her chin, thinking of a new question. “First foreign country you visited?”
“I was going to Italy to see my grandparents since before I can remember. We went every summer for at least a month when I
was a kid.”
“Have the girls been?”
“Yes. Clara and I took them when they were three. My grandparents had already moved to America before the girls were born,
but I do have some aunts and uncles in Italy. So we rented a little home with a lot of outside space. We had a blast and ate
ridiculously good food. My aunts, uncles, and cousins are better company than my parents.”
I sigh, remembering how happy Clara was there. “Clara wanted to start the process of moving there, actually. She asked me
to come with her, but she began not feeling well soon after that.” I take a deep breath before continuing because my next
thought stings to think about. “She told me she wanted her ashes spread there one day, and I haven’t had the nerve to go back
and do it yet.”
A rush of air leaves Millie, and she says, “It could be healing to bring the girls there and show them some places and people their mom loved.”
I let that thought sink in, picturing the girls with their extended family, adventuring on Zia Sofia and Zio Filippo’s property
and eating as much pasta and bread as their little tummies can handle.
My thoughts are interrupted by a soft ring from Millie’s phone. She pulls it out of her purse and groans. “My mom is FaceTiming
me.”
“Go ahead.” I motion with my chin for her to take the call.
Her eyes scan me before she swipes to answer it. She holds it in front of her and smiles. “Hey, Mama.”
“Millie, sweetie. Where are you?”
Glancing around the shop, she assesses what her mom can see and hesitates a little too long. “Maggie’s.” She looks as suspicious
as a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“It’s a little dark there.” I can’t see her mom’s face, but I can hear the uncertainty in her voice. She’s onto her.
“Yeah, Maggie is trying out this new vibe to see how the customers like it.”
I take a sip of my tea a little too quickly and choke when it slides down the wrong pipe. I cover my mouth and bend over to
muffle the sound of sputtering, but it’s no use.
“Honey, there’s a reflection in the window behind you. Does that handsome man at your table need help?”
Millie shifts her face to look at me, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Oh... yeah, my friend Finn is here.”
I’ve contained my coughing enough to offer a silent “Sorry.”
“Finn,” Millie’s mom practically squeals. “Move your chair around and join our conversation.”
Millie rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. My chair scrapes on the floor as I slide it around beside hers, and she adjusts the phone to include my face.
“Hello, Mrs. Oaks. Nice to meet you.”
Millie’s mother is beautiful, with gray hair framing her round face and glasses perched on her nose.
“Oh, call me Mary,” she says, grinning from what looks like her kitchen table. “It’s nice to meet you too. How’s your evening
going?”
“Perfect,” I say, turning to smirk at my coworker turned friend turned maybe-date.
“Looks like it,” Mary coos. “Millie, is this the man you were telling me about whose twins were in your summer camp?”
“Yes. Avery and Eloise.”
My chest warms at the thought that she told her mom about me. That must mean something, right?
“That’s so sweet,” Mary says. “I won’t keep you long. I was calling about your trip out here this weekend. Do you mind picking
up a few things from one of those big-city grocery stores you go to before you make the trek to Fern River on Saturday?”
Millie nods. “Just text me a list.”
“Of course. Thank you.” She smiles at Millie before her eyes shift like she’s looking at me now. “Finn, it’s my birthday,
and I think you and your girls should come. We have so much for them to do. They could collect eggs and help Dave in the garden.
Oh, and swim in the pond and feed some animals. It’s like a personal petting zoo over here.”
Millie stays silent beside me, and I’m not sure what to say. “I don’t want to intrude on a family weekend,” I try.
“Don’t worry.” Mary waves off the idea. “My best friend from next door and her son are coming. The more, the merrier at our
house. Dave and I always believe that. Besides, it would make my heart happy to have some kids out on the farm.”
My chest tightens at her kind invitation. She’s so unlike my own mother, and a wave of sadness crashes over me that I didn’t grow up with someone this welcoming and gracious.
“Thank you. I’ll discuss it with Millie and see what she thinks about us following along.”
“Okay, I’ll let you get back to it. Millie, I’ll see you in a couple of days. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mama.” She smiles before ending the call.
***
Millie sits quietly in the passenger seat, a box full of our perfect croissants in her lap. She requested to come home with
me to see the girls before I put them to bed and then have Lena pick her up, and I’m more than happy to oblige.
I tentatively put my hand on her knee at a stoplight, encouraging her to look my way. “Why haven’t you been to Maggie’s recently?
It looked like there was a story there.”
She tilts back to the headrest and closes her eyes. “I don’t want to say it out loud because I’ve been avoiding thinking about
it,” she whispers into the dark car.
“You can trust me with it. You can trust me with anything.” I squeeze her leg once in reassurance.
She lets out a deep breath and looks to the window beside her. “I haven’t been back since I saw him .” Her hands fidget with the hem of her dress. “That was my place, and it doesn’t feel like mine if he’s there. It doesn’t
feel safe.” She says the last part so quietly I almost can’t make it out.
My hand on the steering wheel squeezes tight as I try to control my rage, but I force the one on her knee to stay relaxed.
She should always feel safe. I hate that she has to worry about whether he’ll be somewhere.
“He’s still texting every once in a while, and it’s scary to think about seeing him.” She sighs. “I wish I could take every hurtful thing he said that still echoes in my mind and shove it back down his throat. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to get through it, though.”
My teeth grind at the news that he’s still messaging her. I can’t even imagine what he’s saying, but if it makes her this
uncomfortable, it can’t be good.
“Millie.” She finally looks back toward me, and her eyes are red around the edges. “How about we go back sometime together?”
Silence hovers between us as I pull into my garage and turn off the car. I shift in my seat and reach for her hands, cradling
them between mine on the console.
“I have no doubt that if you saw him or had to talk to him, you could stand up for yourself all on your own. But if it makes
you more comfortable, I could come with you the first time and be your cheerleader. Or your bodyguard. Or your coffee-cup
holder while you punch him. I’ll be anything you want.”
A tear rolls down her cheek, and I brush it away with my thumb.
“I’d like that,” she whispers. “Can you be all the above?”
“Always.”
***
“I want Millie to read our bedtime story,” Avery requests from her snug position under the blanket.
I turn to the doorway and raise an eyebrow at Millie. She puts her hand over her chest. “Me?”
“Of course, you.” Eloise giggles, scooting all the way to the edge of the bed to make room for her.
“I’d be honored.” She crawls between them and opens the book.
My mind wanders as I watch Millie read their bedtime story while the girls cuddle into her arms. Ave and El have completely fallen for her in only a few short weeks. Her presence has created this spark in the girls that I haven’t seen in months, and I don’t ever want it to end.
When she closes the book, she lifts her arms, and the girls rest their heads against her sides.
“Uncle Finn, will you sing us ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’?” Avery requests, her eyes already drifting closed.
Warmth hits my cheeks, but I force myself to sing anyway. Millie watches me through the first and second lines, Ave and El
drifting off to sleep at her side.
But as I start the last half of the lullaby, Millie’s gentle, bright voice joins my rough, low one in the most beautiful harmony
I’ve ever heard.