Chapter Fifty - Finn One Month Later
Chapter Fifty
FINN
ONE MONTH LATER
WALKING INTO THE HOUSE, I immediately look for the one person who will make today bearable. I find him in the corner of the sitting room, scotch in hand as he speaks with one of Oliver’s friends — Sam, I think? He looks relieved when we make eye contact and excuses himself from the conversation. “Thank God, you’re here,” Uncle Jack says. “I was starting to think you were going to bail on me.”
“And let you have all the fun?”
“Where’s your girlfriend? I was hoping to meet her after hearing about your parents’ little run-in with her at the party. Sorry, I couldn’t make it, by the way. I was caught up in London with—”
“We’re not together anymore.” I down the scotch from the bartender in one sip, offering a tight-lipped smile. “She decided to go back to her ex-husband.”
“Well, that’s good news.” The sound of Oliver’s voice makes every nerve stand on edge. Uncle Jack subtly shakes his head, signaling me not to start the fight. This is not the time or place, and it should be handled privately after the luncheon is over. He’s right, this should be done without an audience. Rolling my shoulders, I turn to greet my father, and the amusement on his face reignites the flame I had dimmed seconds ago. “You can do better than sleeping with the help, son.”
“The help?”
“That girl was just a convenient piece while you were busy putting your little project together. We all know it,” he says. “We knew it wouldn’t last. She was far too worried about fitting in, and that was never going to happen.”
“Honey,” Mother says and loops her arm through mine. “You’ll never guess who I ran into the other day.” She tries to pull me away from the scene, but my feet are planted. “Amanda! She is back and—”
“Is that what you said to her?” I ask never taking my eyes off my father.
“I didn’t tell her anything other than the truth,” he says with a simple shrug.
“You told her the only reason I started Sheffield House was the money! You told her—”
“Is that not the truth?” A smirk spreads across his face when I don’t respond. “You did start this business solely because you—”
“Okay boys,” Uncle Jack cuts in, “I think we need to move this to a more private place.” He smiles at both of us motioning toward the crowd around us. Oliver huffs before turning to the eager guests wanting to see what happens next. “Excuse me, everyone. I need to have a quick conversation with my son. Lunch should be ready in just a few moments.” Uncle Jack grips my shoulder and pushes forward when Oliver walks out of the sitting room toward the club.
The moment the door closes, my back is against the wall with a stubby finger in my face, “How dare you, boy.” His blue eyes burn with a fury I know all too well, and suddenly, my anger disappears and I’m the same little kid who has always cowered to the man before him. The man who was supposed to protect him and love him. I look away from my father’s fury, but he grips my chin roughly and forces me to meet it again. “Who do you think you are?”
“Oliver—”
“Jack, stay the fuck out of this,” Oliver hisses without looking. “How dare you come into my house filled with guests and start a fight. Your mother has worked tirelessly to make this day perfect, and you come in here thinking you can ruin it. Absolutely not. You will go out there and apologize to her immediately.”
“Yes, sir,” I say between gritted teeth.
“Oliver, it wasn’t that bad, you started—”
“Jack, I said stay the fuck out of it.” Oliver turns back to me, “When everyone is gone, we will discuss how you’re going to rectify this. Do you understand?”
I meet Uncle Jack’s disappointed stare before turning back to my father, “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Yes, sir.”
Satisfied, my father takes a step back from me and straightens himself, adjusting his suit before offering a nod and walking out of the room.
I finally release the breath I had been holding and scrub a hand down my face. I hate the way I turn back into the scared little boy who used to walk on eggshells trying not to set his father off. I’m a grown-ass man, for godsakes; I should be able to stand up for myself, tell him to fuck off… I never can, though. I do what I have to in order to survive and try to avoid the alternative.
“Finn—”
“Thank you for trying.” I straighten my jacket and brush invisible dust from the sleeves. “We should get out there, don’t want to give them any more reason to talk.”
Rejoining the party, I’m met with knowing glances telling me word of the family squabble in the sitting room has made its rounds and everyone has their idea of what happened. Mother stands with a group of friends, including Gladys, and her smile brightens when she sees me. “Oh Finn, darling! I’m glad you’re feeling better. Your father said—”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “I apologize for my display. It must have just been the lack of food.” The women chuckle, and Mother loops her arm through mine excusing us from the group.
“Now, as I was saying, I ran into Amanda the other day and invited her to join us today.”
“Mother—”
“I told her you would be so thrilled to see her. You just needed a little break, some time to get your head on straight. Now that you have your project complete, you’ll have time—”
“Mother.” I pull my arm from hers and take a step back. “I’m not getting back together with Amanda.”
“Honey, she’s cleaned herself up. She is—”
“I don’t want Amanda.”
“Oh, Finnley, is this about that Davis girl?” She waves her hand and tries to take my arm again, but I don’t allow it. “Finnley, you will stop acting this way this instant.”
“Michaela is—”
“The help. Nothing more. Those Davises are not meant for this world. I don’t know what Davina sees in them. Brina is appalled by the way her daughter has handled everything since Alaric’s death, and frankly, we are too.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mother reels back at my words, her brown eyes wide in appallment. “How dare you talk about them like that. Those Davises have been more of a family to me than the Sheffields ever have.”
“Honey, they’re just plain people; there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Everything okay over here?” Oliver clamps his hand down on my shoulder and gives it a hard squeeze.
“Of course, dear,” she smiles at him. LIke she always does. Always turning her head to look the other way.
“Actually, I was just leaving,” I say, stepping out from his grasp.
“Don’t be silly,” she says giving me a stern look. “You and I were just discussing how he intends to go speak with Amanda.”
“I am not going to talk to her. I have nothing to say. And, you know what? You both can take your money and shove it where the sun don’t shine.”
“Finnley!” Hayley gasps.
Oliver pats me on the back, hard, and grips my shoulder again. He smiles looking around at the guests, who have started to stare before meeting my gaze. “Do we need to go have another conversation? I don’t think the last one stuck.”
The anxiety starts to creep into my veins, but this time I force it back. I swallow the massive lump in my throat and shrug his hand from my shoulder. “If this is what your family looks like, then I think we’d be better off strangers.”
“This is what happens when you sleep with the help,” Oliver scoffs. “You lose any lick of sense—”
“Michaela is not the help!” My outburst brings everything to a halt. “Michaela was not and is not the help. She did more in making Sheffield House what it is than I can ever repay her for and I will not let you speak about her that way.”
“If she’s so wonderful, then where is she? Oh, that’s right, she left you for her ex-husband. I’m not sure if that says more about her or you.”
“Sheffield!” A voice echoes across the gas station. Glancing over my shoulder, Nick and Josh walk toward me. “I didn’t know you were in town,” Josh says when he embraces me. I haven’t seen him since the wedding over a month ago, I haven’t seen any of them. I didn’t tell Josh or Nick the truth before leaving the reception. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. However, when I ran into Josh at the hotel before I left, and we had a drink. I may have slipped that his sister was going back to her soon-to-be ex-husband. And he may have had a few choice words.
“Yeah, I came in for the day. Oliver and Hayley requested my presence at the annual Thanksgiving luncheon. I’m about to head out, though. I’m supposed to help out at the center tomorrow afternoon.”
“How’d that go with your parents?” Nick asks.
“I may or may not have told them to take their money and shove it up their ass.” After Oliver was finished trying to decide who was more to blame for Michaela running back to David, he tried to drag me back into the club for another chat. When I refused, he started to lose his temper despite his guests being there. Somewhere between reminding me that no one wanted me and calling me an ungrateful brat that no one will ever love, I mustered up the biggest smile I could and told him I’d rather be alone than call him ‘Dad’ another second longer. “Things may get rough for a bit, but I’ll be okay.”
“They’re not going to cut you off,” Josh says.
“I have no doubt about it after today, but I don’t care if they do. I made it without them while working on Sheffield House, I’ll do it again.”
“Going to be a little weird keeping the name Sheffield House now, isn’t it?”
“Gives me the chance to redeem the name.”
“I tried to call you last week to invite you to dinner,” Josh says, “but I never heard back.”
“I’ve been busy with the center, getting things ready for the holidays. I meant to call you back, but time got away from me.” That was true, but I also didn’t call back because I didn’t want an obligatory invite. I wasn’t going somewhere I wasn’t wanted. I didn’t think I’d be welcome after what happened. I figured the wedding was the end even after my talk with Josh. I guess that’s why I decided to attend the annual Sheffield Thanksgiving Luncheon. I wanted to feel part of some family, even if it meant dealing with Oliver. And well, after today, I don’t think I’ll be invited to any more luncheons, or Sheffield functions for that matter…
“Well, you’re in town. Come to dinner,” Nick suggests readjusting the case of beer in his hands. “We’re doing it a day early since Nin and Kai have to be in New York tomorrow. Y’know, I could probably swing by the center while they’re at their luncheon.”
“You sure Nin will let you out of it?”
“Supporting the nonprofit she helped start or hanging out with a bunch of businessmen for lunch,” he uses his hands to weigh the options before the one indicating the nonprofit wins by a landslide.
“Fair point. Well, I appreciate the dinner offer, but I don’t think everyone there would enjoy my company at your Thanksgiving meal.”
Their smiles fall before Josh says flatly, “She isn’t gonna be there. Michaela will be spending her holidays in Montana from here on out.”
“You say that like it’s a permanent thing.” The look on his face tells me I might just be right in that assumption. “You can’t be serious.”
“She’s making it work, man.” Josh shrugs. “I guess part of that means spending all the important days with his family.”
Walking into the Villa-Davis house, I’m met with a chorus of various greetings, and it makes me regret not returning Josh’s phone call. I would’ve hated to miss this. Without them, I’d be spending my holiday eating Thai take-out and watching some rerun of a show I’ve seen too many times.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” Nina says wrapping me in a tight embrace, and I kiss her cheek.
“He didn’t think he was welcome,” Nick calls over his shoulder from the pantry.
“You’re always welcome at the Villa-Davis household.” Nina squeezes my arm before handing me silverware. “Now, go set the table. You can manage that, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I salute before taking the silverware to the black farmhouse table in the bump out to the left of the kitchen. The sounds of holiday dinner preparations begin to fill the silence and wrap around me like a warm blanket.
“Who wants wine?”
“Is the turkey almost done?”
“Alex, get your feet off my table!”
“Dad, do you mind grabbing more firewood?”
“Ophelia, no cookies until after dinner.”
“Nin, you guys have any tea around here?”
The Sheffield house was never filled with these kinds of sounds growing up; it was always quiet and cold. Hayley never made a meal. When I ate at home, it consisted of sandwiches — mostly peanut butter, and occasionally I got wild adding strawberry jam. If there was a meal at our house, it was always prepared by someone else. Come to think of it, Mother’s parents were the same way, so it shouldn’t be a surprise she turned out the same way. When I met the Davises, I learned what it meant to be a family, and over the years, this group has become more of a family to me than Oliver and Hayley ever were.
“You okay?” Nick hands me a beer, and I nod. “I’m glad you came, man. You’re always welcome here, even if Michaela decides to pull her head out of her ass and come back home for a holiday or two.”
“Thanks for the invite.” I smile sadly. Part of me hoped she would be here, but a bigger part of me is glad she isn’t. Imagine that dinner. Michaela, David, and I sitting around the table — that’d be a sight to see. But, I know she’s made her decision, and I have to respect that.
“I know it doesn’t mean much, but I was rooting for you,” Nick says. He pats my back briefly before going to help Nina — pulling the turkey out of the oven before she can. She rolls her eyes, commenting something in Italian — something about how she could do it herself, I’m sure. Nick ignores her, sets it on the counter, and kisses her temple. He whispers in her ear and she smiles reaching up to drape her arms around his neck and kiss him briefly.
“Get a room!” Alex shouts over the back of the couch. Nick flips his brother off before swatting Nina’s ass and picking up the turkey to bring it to the table.