Chapter 13
VIOLET
SO… ALBA STARTS AND I groan already. Finn?
Rose laughs, turning to smile at me from the front seat of the truck. He’s so cute, Violet! She beams. She is literally so nice, something about her presence makes me feel calm—even though I know a third-degree interrogation is coming from Alba.
I shrug, trying to play it off. We’re just getting to know each other, I say casually, pulling at a loose thread on my denim shorts. I want to downplay it a bit, since I’m not sure anyone would believe he actually liked me. Maybe a little summer fling, who knows.
Alba raises an eyebrow at me in the rear-view mirror. Good for you Vi, she says, but something tells me she’s not exactly buying it. There’s a beat before she adds, He’s not quite your usual type.
I snort, thinking of the guys she would have seen me bring home before, in Toronto or even New York. Indie types, mostly. The occasional tortured art bro. Definitely not cool, jock types.
I shrug again. I don’t know if my usual type was really working for me anymore.
Alba must sense some truth to this because she only says, teasingly, Always good to expand your horizons.
As we pull back towards Alba and Rose’s place, my phone starts vibrating loudly in my pocket.
I glance at the screen, a surge of anxiety washing over me.
Who is it? Alba says, parking the car and turning around to have a look for herself.
I should take this, I say, hopping out of the car and walking towards my own cabin.
Come over to our place when you’re hungry for dinner! Alba calls after me, but I don’t fully register what she’s saying.
Hello? I ask tentatively, even though the caller ID has already told me it’s my sister.
Hey stranger, she says, her voice chipper. Leo isn’t one for chit chat. Leo, which is short for Leonora (though god help anyone who calls her that), has another nickname in our family: The Wolf. If she’s calling me, somebody needs something.
Leo continues, Nice of you to answer my call.
She’s been texting me—they all have. My mom, my brother, Ace. Even the twins, Reid and Robin, have been sending me more memes than usual.
They know they’ve royally pissed me off. The one person who hasn’t tried to get in touch with me is Nan, but I think that’s only because she knows better. Besides, she wasn’t involved in the idiotic attempt to revive a dating life I didn’t even want.
When I came back to Victoria after losing my job in Toronto—roughly twenty-one months ago, but who’s counting—I would say, upon reflection, I wasn’t handling it very well.
I threw myself into caring for my Nan, who had fallen and broken her hip.
She’s all healed up now, but instead of figuring out what to do next I’ve just sort of… floundered.
Well, you don’t ever call, I tell Leo, who is a big texter, my tone a little frosty. I’m usually the peacekeeper in the family. I don’t think any of them know what to do with me being angry for once—and not being at their beck and call to fix their problems.
Leo sighs. I’ve said I’m sorry, like, four times, Vi. We all thought maybe you needed a little help, that’s all. But trust me, we’ve got the memo now. Standing down.
We all thought. I feel sick at the thought of my entire family sitting around, discussing the fact that I’ve never brought a boyfriend home. Deeming me so utterly pathetic that I needed their help.
No one had bothered to ask me, of course, whether I wanted to date.
But there was a reason I didn’t use dating apps in Victoria.
Moving from school to school the way I did growing up, there are way too many people who would recognize me.
For a capital city, it feels like a small town a lot of the time.
It’s not just about the dating profile. It’s hard to explain, I say, feeling a lump in my throat. The responsibility. The pressure to always be the one with a solution. If running away is the only thing that can give me a break, well, here we are.
We miss you around here, that’s all, Leo pauses and immediately I know where this is going.
She needs something, or wants something—or somebody does.
I feel a prickling at the back of my neck and a throbbing headache start at my temples.
And you know, it’s a lot here without you around. With Nan. With Mom. You know how it is.
You all managed fine when I was in Toronto.
She ignores this completely. They can figure their own shit out, but they prefer when I’m the one to do it. Is it true what Nan said? That you didn’t buy a return ticket?
I fiddle with the string hanging off my shorts again. Yep.
Violet! She wails. I forget sometimes she’s only twenty-six, and a young twenty-six at that. But if I had to figure it out for myself, why can’t she?
Ace can help, the twins can help; you guys don’t need me.
But I don’t even know, that’s the problem! That’s why we need you.
I feel suddenly like an animal caught in a trap. Like all the walls are closing around me. I suck in a breath and get my words out in a rush, not giving my sister time to guilt me any further.
Leo, I have to go, we’re pretty busy here with wedding stuff, so, I’ll talk to you later okay? Love you, bye. I hang up, tossing my phone across the room and onto the bed. I shudder to think that this is the reaction after only a few days away from them.
I lie down on the smooth, hardwood floors and breathe for a while. My phone buzzes once from across the room and stops. I frown, knowing it’s not any of my siblings, who always send a flurry of stream-of-consciousness texts in a row.
I sigh, making myself get up and look. But it isn’t a message. Instead, it’s a follower request on Instagram from the username @finnscamp.
I laugh, not sure if the S is a middle initial or if his handle is Finn scamp, which would honestly be fitting.
I wonder how he found me. I don’t have my full name listed—not that he would know it anyway, unless he asked someone. He must have creeped Alba or Florence to find me. I try not to be flattered by his interest.
I accept the request, and follow him back, though his profile is open so I can look at it without having to wait for him to accept.
There are a lot of hiking and nature pictures, mountains I can’t place, some photos with his brother, lots of sports scenes.
I scroll all the way to the bottom and feel relieved that there aren’t any women.
Because I love to torture myself, I check the tagged photos.
He’s tagged in a lot of bar photos. There are a few women here and there, all stunningly beautiful. But most of the pictures appear to be Finn surrounded by people dressed in drag. One performer in particular pops up again and again, often with bright aquamarine hair and incredible makeup.
I’m not quite sure what to with any of this information, except decide to ask Finn about it later.
I toss my phone back onto the bed—good riddance—and leave the cabin in search of my friends.
HOURS LATER, I’M TUCKED INTO bed, snuggled against the clean white sheets in my favourite pair of animal-print Kate Spade pyjamas, about to start up my Kobo and return to the delicious romantasy book I started on the plane, when a knock sounds on the cabin door.
I know in my gut it’s Finn, who must be back from Florence and Alistair’s place.
I have a split second to decide what’s worse, getting up and opening the door in only my short-short pyjamas and no bra, or—knowing the door is unlocked—letting him open it, so I can hide safely tucked into the covers of the bed.
The cabin is spacious, with a bathroom tucked into the back, but the main area is really only one large room.
Coward that I am, I sit up, tucking the duvet around me and call out, Come in!
Finn opens the door, still in his cream-coloured shirt and looking like John F.
Kennedy Jr.—or more like the guy who played him in Love Story—and I have to really try not to audibly gasp.
Somehow, despite spending more time with him, I don’t seem to get used to looking at him.
It hits me like a fresh smack in the face every time.
He sees me sitting in bed and grins so fiendishly that I feel the immediate blush shoot across my cheeks. You should have gotten up to answer the door and kept him outside!
Well, he says, leaning against the doorway, folding his arms. I have to say Violet, I’m trying really hard not to make a saucy comment right now.
Like what? I ask. Why did I ask that?
Something like, ‘I see you’re ready and waiting for me.’ He laughs at his own joke, which I think is a joke, right? Right, because this guy, who looks like that, would never in a million years be trying to seduce me of all people. The reality check hits like a bucket of cold water.
I only manage to get out a slow, Ummm… and shuffle down further into the blankets. This makes him laugh again.
I’m kidding Violet, don’t get carried away now, he says, holding up his hands in supplication. You’re the one who, very smartly I might add, installed our no-sex rule. Remember?
I can barely remember my own name right now; Finn talking about sex has my brain feeling like a spinning top.
When I don’t reply, he goes on. Anyway, darling Violet, I was popping in to see what your plans are for the rest of the week.
My plans? I ask him. For this week?
He smiles that almost evil smile. Trouble, trouble, trouble.
Yes. He nods, leaning further into the door frame.
I don’t think I have any.
You don’t think you do, or you don’t? He’s teasing me now.
I don’t. I say, knowing Alba would have said something if there was anything pressing we had to do over the next few days, anyway.
Well, would you like to go to Louisbourg? It’s the—
The national historic site, the French fortress. Yes, I saw it when I was looking up tourist attractions here.
Aye. So would you like to go?
Just—just you and me?
Yes, he says, his tone playful. Thought it would be good for our ruse and all. But Alba and Rose are welcome to come if they want to join us. Maybe not tomorrow—I need a day to get used to the time change, take it easy a bit. So how about the day after?
What’s Florence doing, is she working this week? I ask him, knowing there must be a reason he doesn’t want them to come.
I’m not sure, Finn starts, mussing with his hair, which falls perfectly back into place when he’s done. But I need a break from my family. He winces when he says this.
It’s only been a day, I blurt out. Could you be any more rude, Violet? I try to salvage it and say, Sorry, I mean—
But Finn replies at the same time. And? That’s long enough to warrant a break. Besides, Allie suggested it’s a good spot to visit and there’s a nice beach we can go to after lunch. He pauses, trying to gauge something from my expression. If you’re up for it?
A whole day alone with Finn?
Let me check with Alba, but yes, I’m up for it.
But traitorous meddler that she is, I have a very strong feeling that Alba will not be joining us.