Chapter 33 LOVE HEALS ALL
LOVE HEALS ALL
I found Finn down on the beach, in his favourite spot near the tide pools, folded around his cracked guitar.
With the storm having subsided, the sky had twisted from its evening magenta to a deep purple, and it was threaded with nervous stars.
They’d grow bolder and more assured over the night, though, the way I had these past few weeks.
‘Hey,’ I said, as gently as I could manage. It had been a cruel night for him. One that he hadn’t deserved. Finn was a good person, and he loved deeply, extravagantly. I’d been so flattered by his attentions that I’d fed them, tricking him into thinking that there was something between us.
But it wasn’t that, exactly. There was something between us.
Just not in the way there was between Noah and me.
There was a deep, abiding love that had grown over the years that we’d spent together, and all the Summerweens we’d shared.
But it was a love that couldn’t be a romantic love – because if it became that, it would blow up in an extraordinary way, and there’d be simply nothing left.
Finn and I weren’t balanced the way that Noah and I were. We’d have fun together, sure, but the kind of fun that would end in bad decisions and hurt, and probably our faces on a Wanted poster. It would end in resentment and cutting each other out of our lives, and that was no way to be.
This couldn’t be the last Summerween. I wouldn’t let it be.
‘I’m sorry, Molly,’ he said eventually.
The moon, high and haughty, gleamed off his stubbled jaw, which was tensed in thought.
‘No, I am. I’ve been indecisive. Cruel and thoughtless.’
He smiled grimly as he turned to me, setting the guitar down in the sand next to him. ‘Well, we’re each as bad as each other. Noah was right. You can’t just fast forward through grief. And you can’t just blot it out with fun. Or even passion.’
He sighed. The waves went in and out, quiet and thoughtful, as he traced swirls in the damp sand. Somewhere off in the distance, an owl greeted the night with its poignant song.
‘I wish you’d chosen me. But I can’t force you to feel differently. And honestly … your decision is probably for the best. Even by my standards I’m kind of a wreck right now. I’m not in a place to be anything for anyone. Not even with you.’
Finn leaned his head against my shoulder. But not in a romantic way – in the way he always had, for years. It was a gesture I’d missed. I smiled down at him.
‘We’re all just figuring it out,’ I said gently. ‘There’s no one right way to grieve, you know. Noah isn’t doing it any better than you are. He’s just doing it differently.’
Finn’s eyes twinkled. ‘Less publicly.’
‘Well, yeah.’ I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I don’t see Noah standing on top of the boardwalk railing shouting I am the Summerween King any time soon.’
Finn winked. ‘That’s good, because there isn’t room in this town for two Summerween Kings.’
Out at sea, a yellow light blinked, furred by the ocean mist and the slowly dispersing clouds. We both regarded it for a moment. So much had happened these past few weeks.
‘I think it’ll be good for me to be officially single,’ he said quietly. ‘To take some time to sit with all of this. To actually let myself feel Dad’s absence and everything that means. And to figure out what’s next for me. Because partying probably isn’t it.’
‘I bet Rosie’ll be glad to hear that you’ve come to your senses.’
The look he gave me was oddly vulnerable.
‘I think I also owe Mom more of my time and energy. She’s been doing it all since Dad …
you know. And maybe it’s time someone looked after her for a change.
I might go stay with her when she heads back to the city.
Keep her on her toes with all the laundry. Joking, joking,’ he added. ‘A bit.’
‘Just don’t interfere with her baking,’ I said. ‘Or her garden.’
Finn clutched his hands to his heart, pretending to be insulted. ‘I would never dare prune her roses. Not after last time.’
We both smiled at the memory.
‘I’m really proud of you,’ I said eventually. ‘It takes a lot to step back to figure out what’s next. And Rosie will love the support – I know it.’
‘Well, until she realizes that I have my heart set on being a folk singer.’ Finn’s dimple deepened, then did its disappearing act. ‘Audio engineer, maybe. Or promoter. Something in line with my interests. And magic.’
‘Lara might have something for you,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘Her firm is all about these huge activations. They almost hired me.’
Finn cocked his head. ‘Why’d you turn them down?’
‘I wanted to do the thing that was right for me.’ Now it was my time to mess with the sand. I let it sift through my fingers like tiny hourglasses. ‘Sometimes there’s an amazing opportunity, and on paper it checks all the boxes.’
‘You did a pros and cons list, huh?’
‘It was Tiff’s idea.’
‘About me as well?’
I blushed. ‘Maybe. But it wasn’t the lists that I listened to in the end.’
I pressed the hand with Josephine’s ring to my chest.
‘Ah.’ Finn nodded slowly, in understanding. ‘Your heart.’
‘Yeah. Sometimes it has an understanding the brain just can’t quite reach.’
‘I hear you.’ He reached for my free hand, cupping it like it was a flame he was trying to stop from being extinguished by the ocean breeze. ‘And you’re right. I’m glad you can be happy. And that I have a chance to be, too.’
I motioned at Finn’s guitar. After all the chaos I’d caused, perhaps there was something I could set to rights. ‘Here. Let me take a look at that.’
A slightly askance look on his face, he passed me the damaged guitar. He’d tried to repair it, but his magic wasn’t up to the task – even though usually a job like this would be simple for him.
But magic could be a complicated business where heartbreak was involved.
I ran my fingers over the warped fretboard and the tangled strings, feeling a pang as I saw the hole burned into the heart of the guitar’s body.
Then, calming myself, I sought the stillness in the air, the whispered magic that ran through the tiny town that curved around the cove.
There it was. It sparkled through me, warming me from inside and out, and then flowing out from my fingers into the wood that Charlie had so carefully shaped and polished.
Bit by bit, the grains started to flow back together, knitting into a gorgeous golden-orange tiger pattern.
The fretboard straightened with a sigh, and the strings hummed as they found their equilibrium.
I let out a breath: magic, sustained magic like this, always took something from me. But it was worth it to help someone you cared about. Especially as it was my actions that had caused the damage in the first place.
‘Thank you,’ said Finn, taking the now-whole instrument back, turning it over in his hands and running his long fingers over its beautiful finish. He strummed the strings lightly, his callused fingertips pulling the most beautiful of notes from it.
Then, giving me a sidelong look, he said, ‘Do you mind if I sit a while? And just play?’
‘Of course.’ I stood, touching a hand to his shoulder. ‘I’ll let Rosie know so that she doesn’t worry.’
‘Thanks,’ he said at last. ‘She’s done enough worrying over me.’