Chapter 10
Rowan
LA GRANGE BY ZZ TOP
“I feel like I’m watching a Hallmark movie play out in real life with you and Finn,” Ivy says with a sigh as I fold the last of my shorts and tuck them into my suitcase. Ivy’s going to be running my shop for me while I’m gone.
I roll my eyes. “I’m definitely not a Hallmark movie.”
“What do you want to be? A Netflix special like a true crime documentary? That’s not romantic,” she says as she scrolls through her phone.
“I don’t want to be any cheesy romance. What I want is a week of relaxation. I want to come home and all the drama is over so things can go back to normal.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be. Meanwhile, don’t worry about your shop. Junie and I are going to help out and we’re looking forward to it,” Ivy assures me.
“Thank you for all of your help.”
“Hey,” Willa greets as she joins us in the loft above the bookstore.
I’m packing and Ivy is apparently trying to give me romantic advice. Which I definitely don’t want. We don’t need to feed whatever this is festering between Finn and me. It’s embarrassing enough that he called me out on my sex dream and I was so shocked I couldn’t even play it off.
“I like your shirt,” Willa says plopping down on my bed, watching me.
“Thanks,” I say. My shirt reads, “Crows Before Bros.”
“Speaking of, have you seen Ralphie since you moved everything out to Finn’s?” Ivy asks.
“No, I’m hoping he finds me there, though.”
Ralphie was the crow I had made friends with out at my cottage.
He would bring me little treasures. Once, he brought me a diamond ring that we learned was missing from an older woman in town.
Luckily, we were able to get it back to her.
But I am still holding out hope that Ralphie will join me at Finn’s.
He’s been my little friend for two years now.
Ivy sighs. “How does it feel to live out my dream? I want a pet crow.”
“I’m sure you can find one out at the tree farm to be friends with,” I tell her.
“So, did it work?” Ivy asks Willa.
“Shhh.” Willa gives her a stern look.
“What are you two talking about?” I narrow my eyes, gaze darting back and forth between them.
“Nothing,” Willa says too quickly.
“Tell me now,” I demand. “I swear. If either of you mess up my first vacation that I’ve had in years, I will lose it.”
“Well, you see…” Willa begins.
“We might have done a love potion spell with Mom on you and Finn. And now we’re just waiting to see if it worked,” Ivy spills.
I stare at them. “What kind of love spell?”
“It’s nothing, just silly. I blame Mom,” Willa says. “You know her and Donna are always meddling with all of us and trying to fix us up.”
“Finn and I don’t need to be fixed up. We’re friends.” I groan as I zip up my suitcase.
“Raaaaaahr!” Finn calls from the doorway.
We all jump. “Crap, Finn!” Willa shrieks, holding her chest. “What are you, five?”
I stare at him, wondering how much of that he heard.
He turns and looks at me, coming over, kissing my cheek and putting his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, baby. Ready for our trip?”
I stare at him, wide eyed. Willa and Ivy are frozen.
“Did that actually…work?” Ivy hisses.
“No way,” Willa whispers back in disbelief.
“You good?” I ask him, staring at him like a deer in the headlights.
“Better than good. Ready for our trip? What do you need help with?”
“I’m…fine.” I stutter, confused at his sudden display of love.
“We’ll leave you to it,” Willa says as she yanks Ivy along with her toward the door. Both look back at us and grin, high fiving each other.
“I love you, Rowan. It’s time you finally realize it. It’s you, always been you,” Finn says loudly.
I swat his chest. “You did hear that, Finn.”
My sisters giggle as they head down the loft stairs.
He doubles over, laughing on the bed. “Yeah, I did. Your sisters are shit at love potions. We’re good, Row.”
“Asshole,” I tease, tossing one of my hoodies at him.
“Yeah, but you looooooooooove me,” he calls. “What’s my song of the day?”
“So glad you asked,” I say as I scroll through my phone and pull up La Grange by ZZ Top.
He nods with approval. “Everything good to go on your end before we head out tomorrow? Oh, and Allen wants to know if you’d like to come over tonight for pizza.”
I laugh. “Oh, really? Grumpy Allen wants me to come over for pizza?”
“He does,” Finn confirms, pretending to be serious.
“We have to run over to Tom’s tonight first. I promised I’d check in on him before we go. Still want to help me with a few things for him?”
Finn nods. “Yeah, we can run over to Daddy Warbuck’s. Let me throw my tool bag in the truck.”
Finn and I pull into Tom’s driveway late afternoon, the tidy traditional New England style home with a tidy yard.
Tom steps out, wearing his usual button-down shirt and suspenders, like some sweet old movie grandpa.
He’s got his hands tucked in his pockets and he’s grinning like he’s been waiting for us all day.
Becoming friends with Tom has been one of the best parts of my summer.
I step forward, brushing my palms down my jeans. “Hey, Tom. This is my friend, Finn.”
Tom’s grin widens in that I’ve-lived-long-enough-to-spot-something kind of way. “Friend, huh?” he teases, raising a brow.
Heat rushes up my neck. “Yes. Friend.”
Finn chuckles under his breath and sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
Tom shakes it with a firm grip and looks at me. “Tom works just fine. But I like this one already.”
Finn gives me a sidelong look that makes my stomach flutter. Tom laughs again, clearly enjoying himself, and gestures toward the back door. “My back door lock has been giving me trouble. Let’s see if you’re as handy as your girlfriend says you are.”
Finn flashes me a stupid, heart-melting smile. “I’ll give it my best shot.”
While he heads around back to work on the lock, Tom falls into step beside me as we walk through his garden. The air smells like tomato vines and salt from the ocean. He shows me where the basil’s grown wild and which herbs need cutting back. His hands are steady, patient.
I walk with Tom through the garden while Finn works. I love how Tom talks about his plants like they’re family. And in some ways, they are all he has with his own family scattered around the country. I’m glad I met him and became friends with him.
“You’re gonna be gone a week?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Coconut Beach. I actually can’t believe I’m finally going.”
He gives me a gentle smile. “Good. It’s important to have a planned holiday.”
“Thanks, I think so, too. I’m looking forward to it.”
Tom glances toward the back of his house where Finn is replacing the new lock he’d laid out for him. “Are you taking your fella with you?”
I don’t even begin to correct him about Finn not being my fella and I just nod.
He looks at his hydrangeas, then back at me. His smile softens, and something nostalgic settles in his eyes. “Well, I hope you two have a splendid time,” he says. “Oh, to be young, travel, and have adventures again.”
He chuckles, low and fond, then keeps talking, almost to himself.
“My Henryetta, which I called Henry, and I used to take trips every summer. Before the kids, and after them too, when we could convince them to get in the car without staging a full rebellion.” His eyes go distant, warm.
“We camped in the Smokies once. Froze half to death. But Henry made cocoa over a camp stove, and the kids told ghost stories until the fire burned low. Best night of my life.”
My chest gets tight in the way it does when someone shows you the softest part of their heart.
Tom shifts his gaze to his flowers again, brushing a petal with a careful hand.
“We adopted our girls when they were little. We probably had the loudest house in Wisteria Cove.” He smiles, but there is a shimmer of loneliness there.
“Now they’re grown. One lives up in Portland, the other in Chicago.
They send pictures, but it isn’t the same. ”
He inhales, steady and full of memory. “Henry passed five years ago. Cancer.” His voice wavers but never breaks. “I miss her every day. But I would not trade a minute of what we built.” A soft laugh. “She was my person.”
My eyes sting, unexpected and sharp. The way he talks about Henry, his wife, is how I feel about Finn. He’s my person.
He pats my hand gently. “Love looks different for everyone. But it’s worth it. Especially the hard parts.”
My throat tightens.
He smiles again, sad and fond all at once. “So, go. Take your trip. Have your adventures. Don’t miss out on life.”
We circle back to the porch and find Finn leaning against the doorframe, wiping his hands on a rag, the lock fixed. He looks proud and a little sheepish at the same time.
Tom invites us to sit on the porch and have a glass of lemonade.
We can’t say no and have a good time chatting.
Tom and Finn hit it off and make plans to have breakfast together when we get back from our trip.
He wants to show him the house he’s remodeling.
I watch Finn and Tom talk about the Red Sox and how the next game is going to go.
It seems like I’m not the only one with a new friend.
We say goodbye and head back to Finn’s so I can get the plants taken care of for the night.
“Okay,” Finn says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t believe I ever felt threatened by that guy. He’s… really nice.”
“Told you,” I say, smirking.
Later, I end up at Finn’s with dirt under my nails, a dull ache in my shoulders and thighs from bending and squatting down, and Allen the cat weaving between my ankles while I wash my hands in Finn’s kitchen sink.
I want everything to be weeded and watered so it’s easier for Tate and Remy to take care of my jungle while I’m gone.
Finn has a pizza box open on the counter and a paper bag full of garlic knots that smell like heaven.
“Smells so good,” I say, grinning.
“Only the best,” he replies, sliding me a plate.
We eat out on his back screened in porch in chairs with our feet propped up on the railing. The night’s warm and breezy, the ocean humming softly in the distance. Allen sprawls out on the chair next to us like he’s lived here forever.
After dinner, I tackle my plants, crouched among terracotta pots, picking out weeds and trimming dead leaves. Finn mows the yard without a shirt, and I try not to stare. He looks so good. I finish watering the rest of the plants while he hauls bags of weeds to the trash.
“This is what bliss looks like,” I say, wiping my forehead with my forearm.
Finn tilts his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You look really happy, Row.”
I pretend to focus on the basil, but my chest does that stupid soft squeeze. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for this.”
The air smells like damp soil and freshly cut grass. The fairy lights strung across his porch and green house glow warm against the dark. I can’t tell if it’s the night or him, but everything just feels so easy.
Tomorrow we’ll be on a beach together. And things will be very interesting. I’m nervous.
And even though I’ve spent the past few days trying to tell myself it’s just a trip… standing here next to him, with dirt on my hands and the sea breeze in my hair, it doesn’t feel like just anything.
It feels like something beginning.