Chapter 16 IF SHE KNEW WHAT SHE WANTS
IF SHE KNEW WHAT SHE WANTS
‘Wow, look at this spread,’ cooed Finn as he waltzed through the door, positively glowing from a day on the beach and what looked like at least a couple of ciders down at the Hammer and Thistle. Glimpsing my apron, he raised an eyebrow. ‘You really can do it all, Mol. Except join me on a date.’
‘A date?’ Noah frowned, taking a step back from the Bluetooth speakers, which he’d been trying to connect to his phone. They always had a mind of their own.
‘We had plans tonight,’ said Finn easily. But so easily that I could tell it was covering something. An undercurrent of hurt, most likely. ‘I asked Molly out on a date and she said yes.’
I could see Noah’s jaw tense. ‘You asked Molly out? But this is Molly we’re talking about.’
‘She did say yes,’ Finn reiterated smoothly, reaching for an olive.
I busied myself with the parsley I was chopping. This was awkward. But, then, having a romantic interest in two brothers currently living under the same roof lent itself to awkwardness.
Noah’s brow was furrowing to new extremes. ‘But she asked me to cook dinner with her.’
‘For Rosie,’ I clarified quickly. ‘I wanted to do something nice for her.’
‘And I was at the beach,’ added Finn, his eyes sparkling with the gotcha. I wasn’t around, so she had to make do with you, they were saying.
‘Makes sense that you wouldn’t be around when she needed you,’ said Noah, with a sharp smile. He finally got his phone connected to the Bluetooth, and a jazzy Glenn Miller playlist started up.
Finn snapped his fingers, and the music rose to full volume.
‘But I’m here now,’ shouted Finn over the music. ‘Just in time for the fun.’
He shimmied along to the bright trumpets. ‘This is way better than a night out on the town. And it’s catered.’
‘Very funny,’ I said, sticking out my tongue.
‘So, is it just going to be the two of us and this guy?’ He gestured at Noah. ‘Or are the others coming as well?’
Noah glowered, fiddling with his phone to turn down the music. Every time he did, Finn used his magic to turn it right back up.
‘Mom and Rosie are getting ready,’ I yelled over the music as I poured myself a glass of wine and topped off Noah’s.
Finn wasn’t the only one who’d eased himself into the evening with a libation or two.
And from his behaviour, I was realizing that he wasn’t quite as cool with my blowing off our date as I’d hoped.
‘Molly! Turn that down! I’m talking to Damien,’ screeched Tiff from her room.
Finn’s magic flashed, and the music dropped a few decibels.
‘And Tiff’s FaceTiming Damien,’ I added, taking a swig from my wine. ‘Don’t interrupt their very important conversation.’
‘Love is wasted on the youth,’ said Finn, shaking his head solemnly. ‘In the Mood’ came on, its cheerful melody reverberating through the kitchen. ‘Ooh, I love this one!’
Finn grabbed my hand and spun me, dropping me into a dip that made me yelp with surprise. Finn always bumped up the tone of a night a few notches. It was impossible not to have fun when he was around.
Would this be how our date might have gone, I wondered? With dancing and laughter? Maybe not with Noah standing in the background, arms folded.
‘Sorry, but you can’t not dip to Glenn Miller,’ Finn said, helping me back up before shooting a quick look at Noah that said, Hey, watch this.
And then—
‘Oop,’ he said, dipping me again.
I grabbed him this time, and somehow, we both ended up on the floor laughing. All right, maybe not somehow. It was definitely the wine talking. And perhaps the way Finn looked in his white T-shirt. Even if there were definite signs of a sunburn around the sleeves and collar.
‘I hear mischief,’ called Rosie, emerging from her room in a swirl of vibrant fabric and floral perfume – she’d decided on a costume change after her day out on the town with Mom.
She looked stunning, as usual: her eyes shimmered with sparkling eyeshadow, and her lips were a bolder colour than I could ever hope to pull off.
‘Mischief is one way of putting it,’ muttered Noah. Then he softened as he took in Rosie’s attire. ‘You look nice, Mom.’
‘Finn’s back,’ I explained to Rosie, dusting down my skirt as I stood.
‘Just in time to pay Soraya’s tab,’ said Rosie, one eyebrow raised. ‘She called me, you know. Also, you’re a lobster! Not even magic can protect you from skin cancer.’
She pulled aside the collar of his shirt to reveal angry red sections across his muscular back and chest. I blinked, and not just because Finn’s efforts on the soccer field and in the ocean were clearly paying off.
‘I’ll get Molly’s help with the aloe vera later,’ promised Finn.
The thought of me being the one to apply the salve … well.
Was it getting hot in here?
Especially for this time of year, when the evenings tended to be cool. Cardigan weather. Blanket weather …
All right, I needed a moment.
Grabbing my wine, I retreated to the living area, pretending to assess the health of Bertha the orchid.
Rosie was right. She was looking a tad sad, the poor thing.
I wished I had the sort of green thumb magic that Rosie and Lorraine did, but I’d probably just end up putting the orchid in an early grave.
Thankfully, I was saved by the doorbell, which jangled about a million times.
‘Hey, babes!’ Lara and Jack were at the door, dressed to the absolute nines. Jack held an enormous pie, as well as Lara’s jacket, which she’d sloughed off in order to make an appropriately impressive entrance.
‘Trouble has arrived,’ I called.
‘Oh good, we love some trouble,’ said Rosie. ‘It’s the only time I see Finn taking notes.’
Finn winked as Lara went around the room, greeting everyone with air kisses and introducing Jack, who merrily chit-chatted with everyone and passed the ‘repeat everyone’s names back to us’ test with flying colours.
Which was impressive, given that Finn had introduced himself as the Count from Sesame Street, including fifteen suspicious-sounding middle names that I didn’t remember from my preschool days.
‘The food’s looking incredible,’ said Lara approvingly, pouring a rosé for herself and Jack.
‘It’s mostly Noah’s handiwork,’ I noted. ‘He cooked; I supervised.’
Finn scooped a triangle of pita through a bowl of hummus. ‘And I’m going to eat.’
‘The standard division of labour,’ muttered Noah.
‘Not until we’ve set the table, you’re not,’ I said, swatting Finn’s hand away.
He feigned a mortal wound, and I shook my head in mock chagrin. Noah’s jaw tightened in annoyance.
‘Feel free to help,’ said Noah, who had a dish in each hand and napkins under his arm.
‘Always with the orders.’ Rolling his eyes, Finn helped us carry out the seemingly endless sets of dishes and cutlery to the outdoor dining table, which I’d dressed earlier with one of Rosie’s shimmering floral tablecloths and some dramatic candle arrangements.
With a click of my fingers, I lit the candles and turned on the string lights overhead.
‘Um,’ said Jack, frowning at what he’d just seen.
‘You get used to it,’ said Lara. ‘They’re always clicking their fingers at stuff.’
I ducked my head in apology. There were so many people with magic in Whisperwind Cove that when we were here it was easy to forget that not everyone was a witch or a warlock, and that not everyone moved in magical circles.
If you were unmagical and weren’t going about looking for it, you could live your whole life without seeing magic in action.
‘Just so long as they don’t do it at a waiter, we’re all good,’ said Jack.
‘Correct response,’ I said.
‘Also, we would never,’ said Finn, snapping his fingers like they were castanets. The candles flamed, then guttered, flamed, then guttered.
‘Please stop him,’ muttered Noah, as he laid out the cutlery and napkins.
‘Are we ready to rock and roll?’ called Rosie, coming out with her drink high and her hair higher. She left the door open so that the warm strains of Glenn Miller’s music could be heard. Mom followed after her, and we all took bets on whether she could withstand the door being left open.
Halfway to the table, Mom turned back to close the door. The rest of us broke into a cheer.
‘Leave it, Amelia,’ called Rosie with a chuckle. ‘I’ve got the anti-mosquito charm going.’
Mom relented, though it definitely took all of her strength.
‘You look like you had a nice afternoon,’ I said, clinking my glass with Rosie’s as she took the seat next to mine. Finn took the seat opposite me, and Noah the one next to him. Oh good. This wouldn’t be awkward at all.
‘The ocean air always does me good,’ Rosie said, oblivious to the tension between the three of us. She dropped her voice. ‘I even got a tattoo. Look.’
She pulled up her skirt to reveal a rose on her ankle.
‘Trent at Spilled Ink did it,’ she confided. ‘Your mom got one as well.’
I gasped, leaning forward on my elbows to get a better look. ‘She did not.’
‘What is it? A dollar sign?’ whispered Lara, with a laugh.
‘Amelia, show us some skin,’ called Rosie.
‘Absolutely not,’ said Mom, who was hovering at the end of the table, typing on her phone.
With a grin, Rosie used her magic to lift the bottom of Mom’s skirt, revealing a tiny ampersand tattoo covered in clingwrap. Mom reacted with incredible speed, ducking to yank her hem back down.
‘Rosie!’ she admonished.
‘Mom, you rebel,’ I said. ‘Remember when you gave Tiff grief for months after she got that extra ear piercing in eighth grade?’
Mom tried to protest, but she gave up, holding up her hands with a sigh. ‘Sometimes you just have to do something stupid.’
‘Who are you and what have you done with Amelia?’ asked Lara, mock-suspiciously.
‘Oh shush.’ Taking a seat, Mom tried to hide behind the glass of wine Noah had generously passed her. She met my gaze as she sipped, and a tiny sparkling moment of understanding passed between us: Mom wasn’t the tattoo type, but Rosie was. And Mom was doing her best to be there for Rosie.
‘How is Trent?’ asked Finn. ‘I’ve been meaning to stop by this summer. Maybe you can join me, Molly.’