Epilogue
Sydney
Hand turkeys. Colorful, fake, fall leaves. A cornucopia. Cassidy and Hauwa’s home was decked out for the holidays. The walls were lined with framed photos of the foster children who had come and gone—no matter how short their stays.
These two knew how to create a warm, welcoming, and accepting space. They were special. Sydney could never explain how. Until she went to Maine with Fink, their house was the only place that felt safe.
Would he feel the same way?
Worry crept into her chest, rattling her ribs, as he stiffened in Hauwa’s embrace. He glanced in Sydney’s direction, and she offered him an encouraging nod. Hauwa was a big ball of love. It was hard for Sydney to accept at first, too, but eventually she got there.
She suspected this level of love and acceptance would be foreign to Fink as well. It took getting used to—time. Maybe he’d get there eventually, but at least for now, he came, and he was open to enduring their affections.
Thankfully, she saw them only once a year. This wouldn’t be a frequent thing, so he wouldn’t have to suffer the niceness of others.
“We are delighted to meet you,” Hauwa declared in her thick Nigerian accent. “Sydney has told us nothing about you, but I’m sure you can’t be worse than her last date.”
“Oh my God.” Sydney’s cheeks flared in embarrassment as she covered her face with both hands.
Fink chuckled. “It helps that the bar is on the floor.”
“More like the basement.” Hauwa clapped him on the back before setting her lovable eyes on Sydney.
With her arms outstretched, she wiggled her fingers.
“There’s my little troublemaker,” she greeted warmly.
Fink arched a brow, but before he could respond, he was swallowed in another hug from Cassidy.
Sydney accepted the offer of affection from her former foster mother while the other welcomed Fink.
Closing her eyes, she basked in the sense of safety.
“How have you been?” she asked.
“Lovely, and you?”
“Don’t let her lie to you,” Cassidy chirped with her arm looped around Fink. “Her blood pressure is through the roof. The cardiologist told her to cut back on her hours.”
Sydney eyed Hauwa.
The woman waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Come.” She entangled her fingers with Sydney’s. “See the table.”
With a final look over her shoulder, she noted Cassidy was in deep conversation with Fink about something. With a hand in his pocket, he waved the other around in a relaxed gesture while he spoke.
Amazing.
In a matter of seconds, her foster mothers had put him at ease. Amazing. Syndey wasn’t able to accomplish that for nearly a month. They were truly miracle workers.
Fink
The house. The holiday. The people. None of this experience was what Fink had expected. Then again, he had no basis for comparison. His parents weren’t big on celebrating holidays, unless vodka or meth were involved. They’d never be described as devoted to family.
This was different.
Last year, if someone had told him he’d be eating turkey at a table full of smiling folks reveling in one another’s company, he would’ve laughed his ass off. Unless he was supposed to kill someone at the table, he’d never envisioned himself enjoying such a meal.
As he passed the large bowl of mashed potatoes down the line, he watched Sydney. There was a light within her, and it drew him to her. This is where it came from. He’d wondered how a woman with such potential for darkness could possess all that brightness.
Here.
These people gave it to her.
He couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened to her if she hadn’t found them. Perhaps they would’ve crossed paths sooner. Under different circumstances, for sure. Worse ones.
Sydney wouldn’t be the woman who had stolen his heart without them. That’s for damn sure.
As much as he wanted to stay in this haven of love and acceptance, they had to go. The dinner was over. His belly was full, and his heart was about to explode. They had a long drive ahead of them.
At the time they planned it, leaving directly after dinner sounded like a good idea. The apartment was empty. Another night on the air mattress appealed to him about as much as bamboo shoots under his fingernails. But now that the tryptophan had kicked in, he wasn’t so sure.
Hopefully, the espresso Hauwa had made would last. It sure as hell pepped him.
Saying goodbye was bittersweet. He could’ve spent days with them listening to stories about Sydney’s youth, Hauwa and Cassidy’s younger years, how they got together, and what got them into fostering, but he couldn’t. They’d have more to talk about at their next meeting.
And there would be one.
There was no way in hell he’d let Sydney lose touch with her family. They were far too precious. It’d be tricky, but he’d figure it out.
“You ready to go?” he asked as he pulled his napkin from his lap and placed it on the table.
A frown appeared on her face, but in the blink of an eye, it disappeared. Her chest puffed out, and she nodded. “We should.”
“Already?” Cassidy whined exaggeratedly. “You just got here.”
“Six hours ago,” Sydney reminded with a chuckle as she got to her feet.
Cassidy folded her arms across her chest. “Short hours. We don’t see you enough.”
Sydney nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“We’ll be back for Christmas,” Fink offered.
Sydney peered at him in disbelief.
Hauwa came from the kitchen, carrying a plastic bag filled with Tupperware. “Christmas? You’re coming?”
Fink nodded and wrapped an arm around her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Cassidy clapped her hands as she all but leaped from her chair.
Another round of emphatic hugs and kisses to the cheeks ensued.
Fink was drunk on love and acceptance. Why couldn’t all families be this warm? He could get used to this.
He kind of wanted to.
With far too many leftovers packed for them, Fink and Sydney somehow made it out of the house and into the pickup truck. He was exhausted, but they had a drive ahead of them.
“Thank you,” Sydney said as he got behind the wheel.
“What?” He peered at her.
“For going through all that,” she said as she waved a hand.
“I wanted to,” he admitted as he started the vehicle.
“Yeah, but they’re a lot.”
“They’re fantastic.”
She laughed and bowed her head.
Vrr. Vrr.
His cell vibrated in the cupholder, drawing their attention.
Vrr. Vrr.
They exchanged looks. Who would call him on Thanksgiving? His parents were dead. AJ should be passed out after several glasses of eggnog. No one else had his number.
Vrr. Vrr.
Fink reached for the phone and brought it to his ear. “Yeah?”
“Happy holidays,” AJ cheered.
Fink arched a brow, though his handler couldn’t see. “Same to you.”
“Hurry up and get home. There’s a package waiting.”
The call ended before Fink could process AJ’s words.
“Did he…” Sydney clasped her hands together beneath her chin. “Did he say what I think I heard?”
Her eyes sparkled with delight.
“Yeah.” Fink dropped the phone back into the cupholder.
She squealed and bopped in her seat.
Their first joint contract waited for them in Maine. Their life together had officially begun.