Chapter Eleven
The Dildo of Consequences
Finn should’ve gone home after he left the hotel, but it was only eight, and he knew the kind of look Holly would give him. Unfortunately he didn’t want to be alone either. He sent Holly a note that he was going to visit his parents instead, then drove out to their place and let himself in.
Inside, the house was mostly quiet. He could hear the TV downstairs—it sounded like the new season of Wednesday, so that was probably Imogen, who wouldn’t want to be disturbed—and the shower upstairs, which was probably Gail.
Dad was probably still at the gastropub, regaling the kitchen staff with tales of his glory days as a firefighter.
Finn took off his shoes, texted Gail so she didn’t walk into the hallway in a towel—once was enough—and curled up on the couch to wait.
It was silly. He could’ve gone downstairs and let Imogen and Wednesday distract him. He might not be able to talk to Imogen the way he wanted to talk to someone—okay, the way he wanted to talk to Holly, who was not an option right now—but he’d still feel better with company.
He waited for Gail instead.
Within a few minutes the water shut off and he could hear her moving around in the master bedroom. She didn’t bother texting him back, just came out in a pair of boxers and an old Winnie the Pooh T-shirt, drying her hair with a towel. “Hi, honey. You want some tea?”
Finn didn’t want tea; it was still close to thirty degrees outside. But he agreed anyway because holding the hot mug would make him feel better. He followed Gail into the kitchen while she put the kettle on.
She glanced over her shoulder at him as she reached for the cupboard that housed the tea. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
Where to start? Finn pressed his lips together between his teeth and inhaled through his nose. Stalling for time, he said, “How’d you know?”
Gail smiled softly and pulled down the honey. “I know I’m not your mom, but I’ve been a mom for a while. Showing up after eight o’clock on your day off? I’m not going to miss a clue like that. Especially when I know Imogen’s right downstairs.”
He managed a weak smile in return. “Maybe you should’ve been a detective.”
Now she laughed. “Don’t you know? That’s basically what a mom is.” The kettle finished boiling, and she poured the water into the mugs and took them to the kitchen table. “Now. Spill your guts.”
Finn pulled the mug close to him and hunched over it. He didn’t actually care for the raspberry tea Gail always gave him, but she’d been making it for him for so long that he could never tell her so without hurting her feelings.
It felt weird to think that she’d never noticed, right after she’d said being a mom meant being a detective. Maybe moms were only good at detecting the stuff that really mattered.
He’d have to be careful how he phrased this, he realized. The last thing he needed was for Gail to put things together and get all awkward with Robbie when they needed to keep their situation under wraps. He might be hurt, but he couldn’t take it out on Robbie.
“I guess I’m, uh, seeing someone,” he said finally. “Someone I really like.”
Gail gave him an encouraging smile. “Finn, that’s wonderful. I’m happy for you, honey.”
He nodded and peered into the tea. He didn’t know if he could watch her heart break for him. “Me too, I just, uh.” He took a deep breath. “It’s complicated? So we can’t exactly…. They can’t….”
Gail’s mug made a soft sound as she set it on the table. A moment later her small, warm hands covered Finn’s wrists around his tea. “Can’t what, honey?”
“Can’t, uh. Can’t really do anything more than casual. There’s a lot going on?” His breath tried to catch in his chest. To subvert it, he took a sip of hot flower water. “Um. I guess—for them it’s got to be casual. So.”
“I see.” Gail sat back and considered Finn carefully. “So, they—she? He? They?—can’t do serious right now, but you want serious.”
Finn nodded.
“Do they… have a good reason for it?”
“Yeah.” Finn swallowed. It was definitely a good reason. Robbie being with Finn could mess up Sawyer’s whole life.
“So I guess you have to choose—either stick with them for something not so serious, or bail now.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, sounds to me like you’ve gotta decide. What’s going to hurt more? Leaving now or staying and leaving later?”
It didn’t matter. It was already going to hurt. He might as well enjoy the sweetness while it lasted. “I’d rather regret doing something than not doing it.”
Her face softened. “That’s a very mature way to look at it. I just want to make sure you don’t think they’re going to hurt you on purpose.”
Only if I ask for it. Oh God, Finn hoped she couldn’t see his blush or guess what it was for. He shifted on his chair.
“No,” he said belatedly. If Robbie knew what he felt like now, the way he was bracing himself against a future pain—one he knew would cut him deeply—he’d call the whole thing off before it could get any worse. That, at least, he wasn’t worried about. “No, he—they wouldn’t do that.”
He could hardly fault Robbie for any of it.
Robbie hadn’t stolen a car or a bunch of cars or left his kid without a proper legal guardian.
By all accounts, Robbie had been doing everything he could already.
Finn wasn’t going to put any more on his shoulders right now.
Sawyer’s father was in jail, was probably going to be in prison until Sawyer graduated university. Robbie had to put him first.
He wouldn’t be the man Finn was falling in love with if he didn’t.
“Well, there you go. They’ve already got one over on Paris.”
Oh jeez. “Mom.”
“What? I’m allowed to hold a grudge, it’s my job.”
He’d never convince her otherwise, so it made no sense to try. “God help anyone who ever wants to date Imogen, between you and Dad.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetie. We’ve arranged a marriage for her once she turns thirty. No need for her to date.” Her silly smile sharpened. “You know, we could still do the same for you—”
“Pass!” Finn yelped. “I’m too old already, so sorry.”
“Nonsense. You know I didn’t meet your dad until I was thirty-two.”
“Okay, all right.” He held up his hands. “I surrender. You want me to get out of your hair before he gets home?”
She shook her head. “Come here and hug me, and then let’s go bug Imogen into restarting season two. I want to know what Wednesday gets up to.”
Robbie was starting to get the hang of the whole TV-show thing. He arrived at the arena, grabbed breakfast from the craft services station set up in the cafeteria, guzzled as much coffee as he dared, and went with the flow of athletes to figure out where he was supposed to be next.
Today was Wednesday, which meant they were filming the beginning of the “who’s facing elimination” bullshit.
Robbie had always hated the way reality TV shows dragged those moments out and baited-and-switched, and he didn’t like being part of it any more than he liked being subjected to it as a viewer.
“What do you think?” he asked Finn under his breath as they waited for everyone to assemble.
Finn wrinkled his nose. “Honestly, it’s probably going to be Emily and Alonzo again. They missed one of the key steps in their choreography, which sucks, because they’re really good. But Chad fucked up one of the lifts, so maybe he’ll be out of our hair after this week.”
“Finally some good news.” Robbie gave a weak smile.
Finn gave him a calculating look and then returned his attention to the centre of the room. The host hadn’t arrived yet. “More brother stuff?” he guessed.
The lawyer Robbie had hired for Vince—who was lining up to cost Robbie way more than Sawyer ever would—had let him know last night that Vince’s arraignment date had been set for Monday.
If Robbie wanted Sawyer to have a chance to see his father outside of a prison for the foreseeable future, that was his window.
So of course it was on a show day. “How’d you know? ”
“If it was Sawyer, you’d be more fidgety.”
Finally Michelle showed up for their song and dance, and Robbie held his breath.
If he and Finn got kicked off the show, at least he’d have Monday free with Sawyer.
But once again they escaped the bottom two, and somehow so did Chad and Sophia, so it was off to group practice with a soupcon of homophobic side-eyeing.
The next few days passed simultaneously at breakneck speed and at a snail’s pace as Robbie and Sawyer moved through the days in a mix of emotions.
Finn and Robbie developed a new routine on the ice but didn’t have the chance to develop their horizontal tango.
Robbie’s schedule wasn’t exactly full up, except with Sawyer and his feelings, but Robbie’s own feelings didn’t really put him in the mood.
Not to mention that he couldn’t curb the urge to keep eyes on Sawyer twenty-four-seven.
The hearing part of Vince’s arraignment went pretty much exactly as the lawyer predicted.
Vince was remanded with bail, which Robbie was reluctant to pay, even though he could, and which Vince didn’t seem to expect of him.
Vince’s lawyer had talked with the crown attorney and gotten them to agree to a face-to-face meeting with Sawyer. It was under guard, but at least it wasn’t literally in prison.
That part went less like Robbie was expecting.
“Hey, kid,” Vince greeted tiredly when Sawyer and Robbie walked in.
Sawyer hung back, lingering near Robbie instead of getting closer or claiming the seat across the table.
Vince didn’t look surprised. “I got myself in a real mess this time, huh?”
Sawyer snorted. “Understatement.”
Vince took it on the chin. Robbie would give his brother that, at least. He might be a dumbass, but he wasn’t totally stupid. Even if he’d failed at anything approaching coping since the death of his wife. “Probably. Your uncle’s fancy lawyer tells me I might be here awhile.”
“Yeah.”
“Good chance until you’re outta high school.”
“So they tell me,” Sawyer agreed.