24. Rune
Chapter 24
Rune
I t seems like the entire community shows up for the fundraiser, from young parents with babies to retired folks who look like they’re all geared up and ready for the social event of the year. Ella was right: the room looks far better in the evening light than it did when we were in here decorating. The strings of fairy lights and long evergreen garlands cascading over almost every wall feels very cozy and Christmas-y. The savory smell of roast beef and loaded mashed potatoes pervades the room. I’m hungry, but there’s been a tight knot in my stomach all afternoon and it’s currently ruining my appetite. As I follow my cousins through the crowd, I keep my eyes peeled for a man with dark hair and mesmerizing blue eyes.
I don’t know whether I’m pleased or disappointed when I realize he’s not here yet. He said he would come tonight. I hope he doesn’t come with his parents. I don’t know if I could handle facing them again so soon.
I did go for one last ski sprint this afternoon with Courtney, which helped stabilize my raging emotions and settle the sick feeling in my stomach somewhat. There’s something about wide open spaces and solitude that helps to calm the soul. I’m determined to tell him what I know, if for no other reason than the fact that I’m out of time. I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I don’t want to walk away with misplaced hope that whatever happened between us could turn into something more. And let’s be honest: why would he think any different?
I was only ever going to be here for a few days, and it’s not like either of us talked about making a long-distance relationship work. Not when he hates traveling and I don’t have the money for it.
Aunt Mairi bids on a few items at the silent auction table. I put a five dollar bid down for a basket of three wine bottles and a pair of stemmed glasses. I'm willing to go as far as ten. Ella has gone wild, putting twelve dollar bids down for everything, insisting that she’ll have to luck out on something.
Then, with plates full of buttery rolls, green bean casserole, and a dozen other dishes, we find four seats together at the end of a long table. I'm worried that I won't be able to enjoy it, but after the first bite, my appetite returns with a vengeance. I eat everything on my plate and go back for seconds that I definitely do not need and probably don't have room for in my stomach. But I eat those, too.
Finn still isn't here. Maybe that means he isn't coming after all. Maybe his parents wanted to do something else, or maybe he just wants to stay home and write another best seller.
I check my phone again, just in case, but there are no messages from him.
Ella abandons us without a word, hurrying towards the other side of the room. I catch a glimpse of her flinging her arms around a man with blonde hair.
“Why does Sam show up everywhere like he's some weird latent shadow? Why can't they just go places together like a normal couple?” Courtney rolls her eyes.
I don't have an answer for her.
The gray haired lady sitting two seats down from me leans towards us, asking if we know when the silent auction will begin. Aunt Mairi tries to explain that it's already begun, but the woman can't hear over the clamor of conversations. I cringe a little as Auntie raises her voice and repeats the explanation. Pure chaos.
Courtney elbows me in the side. “He’s here,” she says, nodding towards the silent auction table. I turn and there he is, indeed. Right next to his parents.
Maybe he senses my stare because he turns and looks in our direction. I whip my gaze back to Courtney.
“I can’t talk to him with them there,” I say, panicked.
“So don’t. Text him. Ask him to meet you in a dark secluded corner. Or better yet, let me talk to him first.” There’s a wicked glint in her eyes that makes me nervous.
“Absolutely not.” I will not take the coward’s way out. I’m not that desperate. Yet.
I watch them out of the corner of my eye and am relieved when they find a seat on the other side of the room. Relieved…and disappointed that he didn’t seek me out.
Maybe I’m going at this all wrong—it would be totally rude of me to separate him from his parents, just so I can tell him I know his little secret.
“You’re chickening out, aren’t you,” Courtney says flatly. “I can see it on your face.”
“I guess I’m okay if this is all that ever happens between us,” I insist. “It was nice, it was great, and now it’s going to fade into memory.”
“Oh, stop it. You’re making this way weirder than it has to be. The only thing that happens if you leave without talking to him is a whole lot of unnecessary angst.”
She’s right. I know she is. But I am going to need some liquid courage before I can approach him. Courtney, bless her, pours me two consecutive glasses of red wine.
“Go get him, girl.”
“This is a bad idea,” I say, rubbing my hands together nervously.
“It’s the only idea worth acting on. You can do it and you will. Wave if you want backup.”
I give her a wan smile and force my legs to take me across the room. He’s still with his parents, which means I have to break into the conversation before I lose my nerve. I’m just reaching for Finn’s arm, to make him aware of my presence, when his dad’s voice registers.
“You’re going there again? I thought you just saw her.”
“I swear, Amber takes up more of your life than any normal girlfriend would,” his mom says.
I freeze. Amber ?
“You can always come with me. Then she can take you out on the town instead of guilting me into it,” Finn replies in a dry voice.
“We’ll all go out to dinner together. It’s been far too long since we’ve done that.”
Well, this is strange. I don’t know what I’ve walked in on, but maybe I should just walk myself back out. I don’t know who this Amber is, and it is absolutely no business of mine, but—isn’t that the real problem? I know so little about Finn and my heart is disproportionately attached to what I do know about him. He said he wasn’t dating anyone, but what if this is an ex that he still talks to? That he still visits ? My mind is buzzing with possible scenarios, but I don’t feel comfortable asking for clarification in front of his parents. In fact, I would be relieved if they forgot I existed in the first place.
With that thought in mind, I shuffle back a few steps, fully intending to disappear into the crowd, when Finn’s mom catches sight of me. She clears her throat, gives a pointed look, and Finn turns in his seat. A flash of something crosses his face. I’m so nervous I can’t tell if he’s happy to see me or not.
“Well, hi, stranger,” he says.
“Hello, I just thought I’d come say…hello.”
His parents’ faces are curiously blank, as if they know the evening entertainment is about to begin, but they’re not quite sure what it’s going to be.
Finn’s brows furrow slightly. Do I look as frenzied as I feel? Fuck, I hope not. A man bustles past, clapping Finn on the shoulder as he goes by. Finn gives a quick smile at the man and exchanges a few words. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it’s the smile that jolts me back to reality.That and the full plate of food in front of him.
I can not do this.
We’re at a fundraiser-slash-party. He came here with his parents to eat and socialize. And here I am, ready to be the asshole who turns the evening into a confrontation. And for what? To demand that he tell me all of his secrets? For fuck’s sake, Rune.
“Anyway, just wanted to say hi and nice to see you. Hope you enjoy the food, it’s really good.” I nod at the table and force myself to meet the still somewhat blank stares of his parents with a smile. Finn opens his mouth to say something, but a harried mother darts between us, grappling with an enraged toddler. By the time she captures him, screaming and flailing, I’m waving and out of earshot. There. Totally normal social exchange.
“You chickened out, didn’t you?” Courtney pushes my wine glass towards me when I slink back into my seat, red-faced and defeated. I take it and gulp it down. It will have to be my last for the night, unless I want to drive to Chicago hungover tomorrow. Which I don’t.
“His parents were staring at me. I—I don’t think it’s the right time.”
“Ella would say that now is the only time you have, since you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“What would you say, though?” Please let it be something sensible.
She smirks and takes a drink of her own wine before answering. “ Courtney would say that, as fun as all this drama is, you guys literally have each other’s phone numbers. If you can’t bring yourself to talk to him tonight, you could just text or call him or whatever. Totally not that big of a deal. And if it is a big deal…well, he might be hot and super rich and kind of funny, but is that really the kind of relationship you want? Secrets and stress at every turn?”
“That’s far too sensible.” I’ve lost sight of Finn across the room. Damn, I hope he’s not coming to find me. I’m in no state to converse like an adult. There are too many thoughts in my head. Thank you, anxiety, for showing up at the worst possible moment and derailing any hope of having a normal, relaxing evening.
“You look like shit. Do you need to go home?” Courtney asks, peering at my face.
“No. Maybe I’ll just go hide in the bathroom for a while.”
“The bathroom? Really?”
I nod, feeling a little dizzy. “Come get me when we’re ready to leave. And, uh, please don’t tell Auntie.”
“Whatever, weirdo. I’ll check on you in five minutes. Text if you need me before that,” Courtney says, pulling out her phone. She’s used to Ella’s unhinged behavior. I don’t think my sudden freak out phases her at all.
It takes me a moment to make sure I have everything with me: my purse, my coat. And the—nope, that’s not my scarf. I set it back down and give an apologetic smile to the old lady next to me. I’m not sure she even noticed.
I should definitely not have had that third glass of wine. It takes far more focus than it should to exit the room, following the bathroom signs that lead across a wide hallway, the floor wet from melted snow. I catch myself on the first slip, but on the second, my left foot twists and slides out from under me. I flail, trying to regain my balance, but my balance is too offset.
A strong hand catches me by the arm as I’m going down, and I suddenly find myself with my face pressed up against a white button-up shirt. One that only barely masks the hard, muscled chest beneath. I lift my head and stare at the horrifically beautiful eyes of Finn.
“Careful,” he murmurs.
“Thanks.” I cast around for something to say. Something lighthearted to pretend like I’m feeling the same feelings that I was this morning, before all my anxious doubts began to accumulate. But when I open my mouth, I blurt out, “Who’s Amber?”
He freezes, the slight smile fading as he takes in my expression. “What do you mean?”
“I heard you talking to your parents. I just wondered. And I know your pen name.” This fucking wine. I can’t seem to stop the words from falling out of my mouth.
“Okay.” He clears his throat and darts an uncomfortable glance around. We’re the only two people in the hall right now, although the double doors to the main area remain open. The longer the silence stretches, the more uncertain I become.
I’m such a fool.
This is clearly the answer that I have been trying to avoid facing: Finn doesn’t want to tell me about that part of his life. I blink away the blur of immediate tears in my eyes that accompanies the sting of rejection.
“Anyway. Congratulations on your success,” I mumble and try to dart around him, but Finn moves with me, blocking my path.
“Rune, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Something is bothering you. Tell me what it is, please.” There’s a hint of something like desperation in his voice.
I draw in a breath, steadying myself as I stare past his shoulder. It’s easier than looking into his eyes. I can’t think straight when I look in his eyes. “I happened to find out this afternoon that you are R.E. Andersson.”
“Is that bad?” he asks warily.
“I don’t know, is it?” I throw my arms up in frustration. What a strange question. “Why didn’t you tell me? There were several opportunities. The topic certainly came up more than once.”
“I didn’t—” he takes a breath, then, “—we haven’t had time to talk about a lot of things.”
“No, we just went straight to fucking.”
He flinches.
“I'm sorry,” I blurt out immediately. That was a really shitty way to voice my frustration.
“It’s fine,” he says tightly.
“Clearly it isn’t.”
He looks away, a muscle ticking in his jaw. I wait, desperate and a little angry at the same time.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whisper. I want him to say something to fix this emptiness deep in me. I don’t need him to tell me everything. I just want to know why he won’t. But he just shakes his head and I deflate. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.
“Was it funny, Finn?” I ask quietly, my voice cracking. “Did it make you laugh when you realized I had no idea who you were? When I went on and on about your books, absolutely oblivious?”
“God, Rune, it isn’t like that.” His eyes flash. “I was intrigued. I wanted to spend time with you and I—I just wanted to tell you at the right time.”
“Which was going to be when?”
“I don't know—tonight? Tomorrow? I didn't want it to affect us.”
“Except that it has.”
His hand tightens around me. “You have to understand that when I meet people these days, it isn't really me that they’re seeing. People don't give a shit about anything besides how I play into their little fantasies about novels that I fucking wrote. So yeah, when you showed up and treated me like a human being and didn’t ask me to autograph your books, it was a nice change. Because then I knew it would be Finn you thought of when you were kissing instead of some fantasized version of me.”
“Well that would have been impossible, because I’m straight and my fantasized version of you was a girl,” I retort.
He stares at me.
I glare back.
Despite the heat of the moment, the corner of his mouth twitches. “Because I don't write enough about—” he glances down at my chest. I remember that he kissed me there this morning. And a traitorous part of me wants him to do it again.
“Amongst other things.”
He lets out a long sigh and I allow him to draw me into a gentle hug. A peace offering, maybe.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he says. “I’d hoped to have the opportunity to tell you myself, before you found out from someone else. I’m sorry.”
I force a smile. “It’s fine.” Because what else is there to say?
For a long while we just stand there, my cheek resting against his chest; his thumb rubbing gentle circles on my back.
It feels wonderful and painful all at once.
“I'm leaving tomorrow,” I say finally.
“I'll see you again.” He says it like it's a certainty. But there’s no follow up. No promises to stay in touch. No requests to visit. No passionate kisses to convince me that our time together was as real as it was brief. And that, more than anything, is what makes me realize that this getaway fling is well and truly over.
I’m afraid to step away, out of his arms. Because then the spell will be broken and real life will return. But eventually, I do.