Chapter 8
Jennie
Early the following morning, Finn bursts into the Caffeine Drip during the breakfast rush, well ahead of his usual time. “Aha!” he exclaims, striding toward me with purpose.
As I serve Mrs. Hartley her daily pastry, I throw back, “Aha what?”
His glare is almost comical. “You’re working!” he accuses.
That earns him laughter from all around, and an exasperated, “Duh!” from Robin. Coffee pot in one hand, the other planted at my waist, I meet Finn’s stare. “You know very well that my day off was yesterday. Today, I am working. Smart observation.”
Throwing his hands in the air like an opera diva, Finn shouts, “This woman is on bed rest. Doctor’s orders.”
“Hey, now, I can make my own decisions based on—”
“On what? A doctor told you all to keep mum when I lost my memory, and the entire town did.”
All around, people flinch and cast their eyes down.
Finn goes on. “And a doctor tells you to stay in bed and that’s bogus?” He crosses his arms before his body, and I can see the muscles bulging under the thin shirt.
“But I need—”
“To come with me.” His pupils constrict to needle pins, and when I shake my head, he simply grabs me and tosses me over his shoulder Viking-style.
"Comfortable up there?" he teases.
"No! Put me down!" I am mad at him, and at the same time revel in his sheer strength. I’m never letting him know that, though.
“Pah!” Finn exclaims and starts walking to the door. After a couple of steps he flinches. “Does that mean you’re incapacitated other than being mad at me?”
He is asking about the baby. Damn him, even when he is mad as hell, he watches out for me. I let my head hang down his back. “I’m fine,” I concede, my voice softer.
Robin holds the door for us as Finn carries me out. I hope I didn’t just lose my job.
At the intersection where a right turn would take us to my apartment, Finn turns left.
“We’re going to your place?” I ask.
He releases a silent scream and bangs his hand on the wheel.
“You obviously need someone to keep an eye on you. Who is that going to be?” he says.
“I’m not going to let you lie for the next few months in that rat-hole of your apartment.
” His insistence on keeping me under his watchful eye is both infuriating and endearing.
There’s still annoyance in his voice and I decide not to fight him.
At his cabin, he literally walks me to the couch and makes me sit down.
“I’m going out to get some firewood.” His voice is only marginally softer now. He makes an inviting gesture. “Make yourself at home.”
After the door closes behind him, Lilly slowly comes close and lays her head on my knee. I ruffle her ears. If only everything were as easy as doggy affection.
Lilly’s eyes fill with playfulness, and she looks around searchingly. I know she loves tug games and together with her I look high and low for one of her toys. Lilly leads me to one of the guest room doors and starts prancing in front of it.
I open the door, but instead of the guest room I’ve stayed in after a game night when a blizzard hit town, it’s completely filled with a landscape of model railroads.
I absentmindedly pat Lilly on the head and flip the lights on to see better.
It’s Elken Grove in small. This looks like a lovely late summer day, with brilliant colors of leaves and just the slightest hint of yellow and orange in them.
I see kids with kites, and Mr. Anderson on his bench in front of his house, leaning on his cane.
A little down the road, there’s Mrs. Sanchez with her Pomeranian.
The meticulous detail is staggering and every few seconds I make another discovery.
I can hear Finn’s footsteps by the front door and call for him.
"Have the trains run for me!" A minute later, several trains come to life and move through miniature Elken Grove. Most of them are models of old-fashioned and steam-operated locomotives, but there is also a futuristic bullet train. With them running through the landscape, it looks even more detailed. I watch mesmerized—I don’t remember ever having seen anything this enchanting. My eyes follow the shiny passenger train as it vanishes into a tunnel and comes out a foot later, on the other side of a mountain. I can’t suppress a squeal of joy.
Again, it pulls into a tunnel—and is gone.
I can't see it appear anywhere else. I look at Finn. "Did you see that?"
He is strangely stiff and points out another train climbing miniature Himannee mountain, but I insist, "A train just vanished into thin air." Finn nods and tries to get my attention on a freight train. Does he actually want to distract me?
I squint a warning at him and have a closer look at the tunnel that swallowed the train. There is something wrong with it, but it takes me a minute or two to realize it's flush with the wall. A train cannot disappear into a hole that isn't even there.
Is it a portal to another dimension? That's unlikely, but the only explanation I can come up with.
I've seen the train go right at the wall and—go through it.
It's not a tunnel at all, but a cleverly disguised passage to another room!
I give a little yelp that makes Finn startle.
I run out of the room and open the next door.
This room holds another landscape model that is a darker and weirder version of Elken Grove, with the mountains higher and steeper.
It's a fantasy world with Mr. Anderson as a wizard leaning on a staff and the children flying dragons.
Mrs. Sanchez is a witch with a three-headed mastiff.
I watch for several minutes, stunned by the magic that enfolds. Finally, I say, “Finn, this is stupendous! Have you created all this?”
He leans on the wall with his arms crossed in front of his body and remains silent.
“Are you mad at me that I opened doors? I thought it was okay…”
He nods. “I don’t mind you making yourself at home. I literally asked you to do so. It’s just…” He rubs his hand over his short hair. “It's stupid to build model landscapes as an adult, right?”
“No, it’s not! I said stupendous, not stupid,” I assure him. “This is stunning, breathtaking, wondrous.” I go over and lean on the wall next to him. “When did you build all this?”
“I hated having to isolate in the pandemic and needed a project. My ma baked all the bread for me, too, and so I came up with something else.”
“Why didn’t you ever mention this? Showed me?”
“I thought you’d think this was dumb.”
I scoff. “Like ever.” I bump my shoulder on his arm. “But how did you do this? You can’t buy figurines of Mr. Anderson, can you?”
“I can buy a 3D-printer.”
“You’ve actually made all this yourself?” My jaw goes slack.
“Not the trains nor the tracks, but the rest is pretty much all my own design.”
“Finn, you are a genius!”
He huffs, “Like I was!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m trying very hard to think of a way to propose to you—”
I stiffen.
“—that doesn’t make you bristle.” Very gently, he brushes some loose hairs out of my face. “I love you.”
I scowl at him.
He grins and wags his eyebrow. “Ninety-two.”