3. Finn #2
“Bullshit.” That smile turned into a full-on grin. “And you still do, apparently.”
She knew me too well. Trying to hide things from her was pointless anymore. After all these years, she could read me like a book.
“You should ask her out. I’d rather you date her than a member of the trashy MILF brigade who chases you in the school parking lot.”
My stomach dropped. How did she know about that?
“I have friends in this town,” she continued. “Not to mention our daughter complains about it endlessly.”
With a smirk, I shrugged. “I can’t help it. All this pure masculinity cannot be contained.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Let’s take a walk. I want to talk to you about something.”
With a nod, I pushed back and stood to my full height. Once I’d tucked my chair in, I picked up the few remaining dishes. My mother raised me right, and I would always do my fair share.
In the kitchen, Mike and Merry were singing along to Taylor Swift. There were moments where I was envious of how close the two of them had become, but when those feelings struck, I reminded myself that he was one more adult in my daughter’s corner, and I couldn’t be upset about that.
Once the dishwasher was loaded and they were wiping down counters, Alicia and I slipped out.
The air was still a bit cool. It was June, and this was Maine, after all. But the humidity was already seeping in. It wouldn’t be long before the dog days of summer were here.
The street they lived on was lined with cookie cutter McMansions with impeccable landscaping. It was so out of place in a working-class town like Lovewell. But the area had changed, and it was changing still right before my eyes.
“Merry is having a hard time,” she said softly, keeping her focus fixed on the sidewalk in front of us.
I nodded, making sure to shorten my strides so Alicia didn’t have to fight to keep up. It hadn’t escaped my notice. Merry was becoming more withdrawn by the day.
“The last year has been so hard.”
Guilt sank like a stone in my stomach. My fucking family legacy—nothing but violence and crime and shame—haunted my little girl too.
“Did she mention anything specific?” I ran my hands through my hair. Shit. The last person I wanted suffering was Merry.
“Only that kids were being cruel. Making comments, not wanting to play with her, that sort of thing.”
“We met with Principal Gagnon in the spring,” I said lamely. Alicia and I had thought we could stanch some of the rumors if we faced things head-on.
“She was great.” Alicia peeked over at me. “But she can’t control everything kids hear or say.”
Dammit. The initial fervor had been deafening, but I was under the impression that things had died down.
“I think the anticipation of the trial starting this fall is making it worse.”
My heart lurched at the thought. “You said it will probably be delayed.”
“Yes. But that doesn’t mean public interest isn’t picking up. People are curious and gossipy. This is a small town, and until recently, the Heberts were the resident untouchable rich people.”
“Hey.” My tone lacked any kind of force. Her statement was true. We had grown up privileged. Even with what had happened between my parents, we were provided for. We’d always had so much more than many of our classmates and neighbors.
“It’s true. But you know me. I want to cut anyone who hurts our girl.”
I put my arm around Alicia’s shoulders. “I know that, mama bear. I’ll talk to her.”
Dammit, I’d been so na?ve. I’d thought I was the one getting the heat, facing the whispers and the dirty looks. And I could handle that. But my child? That was too much.
Just like when I was a kid, I wanted out of this place. The moment I graduated from high school, I was gone. As far away from my shithead father as I could get. Now, at thirty-five, all I wanted to do was flee. And my reason hadn’t changed a bit.
This was killing me. We’d made the move back home to give Merry safety and stability and a carefree childhood. The poor kid had gotten anything but.
Military life had been hard on Alicia and Merry. They’d suffered through it for my benefit. Now I’d do anything to give them what they wanted. But coming back here had felt like a mistake from day one.
And now we had a miserable, anxious ten-year-old who needed all our support.
“She’s got to keep her chin up and ignore them,” Alicia continued. “There isn’t much else we can do.”
I winced. Of course she’d advocate for taking the high road. She was a good person like that.
My mind wandered to Adele and her fiery personality.
If she were on this side of the scandal, she’d probably torch the school down and make every one of those kids wish they had never even looked at Merry.
I laughed to myself. I admired her fire.
Except, of course, when it was aimed in my direction.
Alicia was right, though. Handling things maturely was usually the best option. But it was one thing to deal with this bullshit as an adult. It was something completely different when a child—my child—was the one being hurt. I couldn’t be rational about this.
I could handle the shame and hurt and the confusion over what my father had done.
But the impact on my baby girl? Unacceptable. I was going to fix this.