Chapter 15
Fifteen
Finn
“Why don’t you come to dinner tonight?”
I glance up from the kennel I’m wiping down to see Chrissy standing in the doorway, baby Mia strapped to her chest.
And a look in her eyes that tells me she’s up to something.
Something involving mischief.
“Sorry, what?”
“Dinner,” she repeats. “With me and the girls.” She shrugs delicately. “You’re on your own tonight, right?”
I wipe my hands on a towel. “How do you know that?”
“Rhodes might have mentioned to the guys after practice that he and Chloe are hitting up that characters on ice show that’s in town, so I figured you might want a little girl time.” She smiles. “Rory, me, Attie, Belle, and a few others are getting together tonight for drinks and girl dinners.”
That sounds…
Really fun, actually.
But—
“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding.” She smiles and rocks slowly from side to side. “I’m inviting you, remember?”
And that’s how I end up saying yes.
Chrissy’s house is warm and inviting…and full of several fosters as well as a few permanent critters—Joan of Freaking Arc, her spicy senior cat, a fluffy younger cat named Petal, and a corgi whose name is Athena.
Adorable, the lot of them.
“Chrissy mentioned you were planning a trip for when the season is over?” Rory asks, sinking down next to me.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Where are you going?”
My lips twitch. “A better question may be where am I not going. I’ve been planning my trip for almost a decade now.”
Ever since I saw a picture of the Acropolis and knew I had to visit Greece.
And the Taj Mahal. And the Great Pyramids. And the canals of Venice, the streets of Paris, the gorgeous fjords of Norway.
Rory grins. “How about where you’re starting then?”
“Switzerland.” I feel that familiar thrill of excitement slide through me, though it’s not quite as all-encompassing as usual. And it has me pausing for a second before I add, “I’m going to do some hikes there.”
She wrinkles her nose.
That makes me laugh. “You don’t like to hike?”
“Nope.” She pops the p and smiles at me.
“I like my air conditioning and bug-free spaces, thank you very much. And I’ve never seen the appeal of walking uphill for fun.
” Her eyes go wide, worry drifting across her face.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with it, of course. Just that it’s not for me.”
“Uh-oh,” I hear as Chrissy plops down next to her bestie. “What are you lecturing poor Finn about now?”
“I’m not lecturing anyone,” she protests.
“Sure.”
“I was just telling Rory about my trip,” I say, wading in. “And my plans to hike in the Swiss Alps.”
Chrissy’s nose wrinkles.
And I smother a grin, suddenly understanding why these two get along so well.
“Where else are you going?” Chrissy asks.
I start listing off my plans, and for the first time, I feel a little pang when I mention leaving at the end of the season.
What will Chloe do?
And Rhodes?
And Olive and Pear?
And me?
What will I do if I’m not cuddled up next to Chloe, making blankets, or sitting with her at the table, coloring? What will I do if I don’t get to see Rhodes walking through the door, a smile on his face as Chloe runs toward him?
Don’t get to see that smile turning toward me?
Don’t ever get to feel his lips on mine?
The thought whips through me so rapidly, leaving with me so much whiplash that when my phone buzzes and I see my mother’s name, I don’t ignore the call like I should.
“Excuse me,” I tell the girls and head out into the back yard, swiping my finger across the phone to answer the call. “Hey, Mom,” I say as I look out at the view of Oak Ridge Vineyards, the rust and orange-colored leaves on the grape vines colorful dots on the rolling hills in the distance.
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
I blink, refocus. “What?”
“Well,” she sniffs. “You never call and most of the time you don’t even pick up when I do.”
When our talks go so well? I feel like asking. Why could I possibly want to avoid you?
Instead, I rub at the throb in my temple. “How’s work going? Did you finish up the project for your boss?”
“I did and she was quite pleased with it.”
“Quite pleased?”
“Yes.” She exhales. “She didn’t mind that I spent all those extra hours in the office.”
I bet my mom’s boss didn’t mind that. At all.
Especially since my mom is on salary and doesn’t get anything extra for working eighty-plus hours a week.
“I’m glad it went well,” I say instead of bringing up the fact that she’s a corporate pawn. “And how’s Dad?”
“The same as always,” she says proudly.
Which means he’s at work for a twelve hours a day and the only times they see each other are when my mom heats a plate of dinner up for him.
“What about you?” she asks. “Have you finished your nonsense with the nannying thing and gotten a real job yet?”
“Mom,” I say on a sigh. “It’s not a thing. It’s my job.”
She tsks but doesn’t argue.
On that front, anyway.
“And the blankets? The craft fairs?”
“What about them, Mom?”
“Why are you still wasting your time on them?”
I close my eyes. “I’m not wasting my time. I like making my blankets, and I sell them for good money.”
“Money you wouldn’t need if you had a real job.”
There it is.
I sigh, but don’t bother to try and justify my choices. She doesn’t care—and she won’t ever understand.
And…nothing I love is ever going to be enough for her, for them.
“I don’t know why you’re being so goddamned stubborn.
If you just applied yourself and went back to school, she could be a usual member of society instead of this nonsense life you continue to live…
” She keeps going and by the time she’s done ranting at me and I hang up, I’m barely holding it together.
I just want to go home, crawl into bed, and draw the covers up and over my head.
I just want to pretend she—they—support me. Love me.
Are proud of me.
But—my lungs hitch—that’s not the case.
“Are you okay?”
I look up from my phone, see that Chrissy has come out into the yard.
I nod. Then shake my head.
Her expression gentles, but she doesn’t push, just sits next to me, bumps my shoulder with hers, and stays with me for a time.
And somehow that’s almost worse.
Because kindness always gets me where judgment can’t.
“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now,” she murmurs a long time later. “But it will all work out in the end.” She stands, squeezes my arm. “You just have to listen to your heart.”
I nod, but don’t follow her inside. I just watch the sun set and the darkness take over.
And as I sit there, I think of Chloe’s little hand in mine, and her peppering me with questions.
I think of Rhodes in his pink shirts and making me his chicken noodle soup and his gentle rebuffs to the “demon cats,” and the way his voice softens for his daughter.
And how dangerous it would be to start wanting any of that softness for myself.
Because my heart is already terribly, inconveniently attached somewhere it shouldn’t be.
And, one day, he’s going to wake up and realize…
I’m not good enough.