Chapter 43 #2
“I knew you liked me.” I hear the smile in his voice as we both go quiet.
“It’s amazing,” I say, filled with awe.
“Happy Christmas, Hart.”
I look up at him. “Happy Christmas, Brookie,” I say quietly.
He kisses my forehead so tenderly that I mentally kick myself for waiting so long to let him love me.
“I didn’t get your present yet,” he says.
I smile as I watch him thread our fingers together, so content I could fall right back to sleep in his arms.
“I am your present,” I say.
He laughs softly and kisses the top of my head. “So, when can I unwrap it?”
I bark out a laugh, because of course he’d go there. I smack him across the arm, and he squeezes me close, his smile fading. “Best gift ever.”
As the sun rises on a new day, I feel something inside me shift. Our first full day as a couple.
I’m filled with an overwhelming feeling—a new and different feeling—hope. And while a tiny part of me is still cautious, mostly I’m focusing on everything I have to look forward to.
And I can’t wait to see what happens next.
We return to the house and find delicious Christmas chaos.
Everyone’s awake, still in pajamas, drinking coffee, and helping arrange a big Christmas breakfast. The entire scene makes me imagine my life with Finn—a life that goes against everything I predicted and planned for myself—and what I see isn’t even a little bit scary.
It’s good. We’re good.
After breakfast, they exchange gifts, which results in an epic, balled-up wrapping paper war, and in the midst of it all, Finn disappears outside for a few minutes.
When he returns, he’s carrying what looks like a large wooden sign.
At the sight of him, the room falls quiet, and even I’m curious what he’s up to.
He clears his throat, his expression turning uncharacteristically serious. “I thought a lot about what I wanted to give you all for Christmas this year.”
“A new pony?” Jordy asks.
A quiet laugh ripples around the room.
“No, not a pony,” Finn says.
“Aww,” Jordy says.
“We’ve all been through a lot. We lost a big part of our family when Hunter died, and we all deal with it in our own way.
I’ve been dealing with it by pretending it never happened, but being home has made me realize that if I pretend it never happened, I might as well pretend he never existed.
And I don’t want to do that anymore.” Finn pauses, then looks at me, and I can almost feel him deciding to forgive Eileen again.
I wonder if it feels any easier today than it did yesterday.
Finn pulls in a deep breath and turns the sign around to reveal the words: The Hunter Holbrook Community Center. The room falls silent.
“I don’t talk about him because I’m afraid it’ll bring the mood down, or people will look at me sideways, knowing that I had some big tragedy in my family, or whatever.
” He shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.
I realized it’s stupid to hold back when you love somebody—shouldn’t we tell everyone about him—to keep him alive?
” He scoffs. “I realized that when I was talking to Eileen, of all people.” He shakes his head again.
“Never thought I’d learn anything from that woman.
” He stops, almost like he doesn’t want this to be about her.
“Last night, when we were all telling stories about him, I didn’t feel sad,” Finn says. “I felt like a part of him was still here with us. Like he was still schooling Quent on the ice.”
A quiet laugh fills the room.
“Still driving Momma crazy, eating spoonfuls of cookie dough before she could bake them.”
“He did do that, the stinker,” Finn’s mom says, with a smile.
“Still telling me that I could do anything I set my mind to,” Finn says, his voice cracking a little.
“Yep, he did, Skip,” his dad says. “And look where you are now.”
Finn smiles at him, then carries his smile around the room to the rest of his family.
“When we started helping at the community center, it was always a response to what we’d been through and wanting to make things better for people—something Hunter would’ve loved, you know?
So—we still have to make it official with the board and all that boring stuff, but,” he shakes the sign, “when we open in the new building, it’ll really be in his honor, and everyone will know it. ”
Finn’s parents stand and hug him, and soon everyone joins in. Jordy crawls into my lap, and Libby sits right next to me, and somehow, instead of feeling out of place, I feel like a part of them. And that has to be the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.
That night, as we sit in the airport after a full day of gifts, food, tradition, and fun, Finn pulls a sheet of paper from his bag. It’s handwritten and messy, with chicken scratches and whole words crossed out.
I frown. “What’s this?”
“My resumé,” he says.
I look down and see his name, in all caps, centered across the top of the page.
Beneath that he has it broken down into Objective, Qualifications, Experience, Special Skills . . . he actually made a real resumé.
I fight a smile. “Okay, when in the world did you . . .?”
“I wrote it while you learned to make buttons and bows with my mom,” he says. “I might be a bit overqualified, but you should definitely hire me anyway.” He takes a drink of his water but keeps his eyes on me. He taps it. “Read it.”
I make a show of holding it up. “Finneus James Holbrook.” I chuckle. “I’m definitely calling you Finneus from now on.”
“Only when I forget to take off my boots in the house.”
I smile and clear my throat, start with Objective, and read the whole thing.
When I finish, I look at him.
His eyebrows shoot up. “So?”
I press my lips together, but I can’t hide the smile. “You’re so hired.”
“I’d like to start immediately.” He stands in front of me, reaching out his hands for mine, and I tuck the paper into my bag and stand.
Once we’re face-to-face, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.
“I know we’re in the airport, but”—he looks around—“there’s hardly anyone here, and I really want to kiss you right now. ”
I hear the question and quickly look around. He’s right. It’s practically empty in the terminal of this small airport. “I don’t really do PDA”—another cursory scan of the space—“but . . .” I grab onto his jacket, tugging him close. “For you, I’ll make an exception.”
He smiles against my lips, then kisses me, full and deep, hands threading through my hair, and I let myself get lost.
Lost.
That’s how I’ve been for so long.
Crazy that it took a flight halfway across the United States to be found.
Halfway through the kiss, Finn takes my hand and holds it out, placing his other on my waist.
He moves slowly, back and forth, and all at once, we’re dancing in the middle of the airport.
And, for the first time in my life . . . I let someone else take the lead.
THE END