Chapter 7
Jennie
For the past few days, Finn, sometimes accompanied by Lilly or Neil, has been to the Caffeine Drip daily.
He now flirts unabashedly with me, regardless of who’s around, and that sends my heart into a frenzy every time he walks through the door, his presence wrapping around me like one of those comforting weighted blankets.
Sometimes he looks at me as if he wants to talk, but it’s all easy flirtation. I’ll take that—for now. Anything but best friends.
This morning he’s late. I cut another slice off the apple stack pie for Mrs. Hartley and bring it to her table.
Today’s special is puff pastry tarts with pears and goat cheese, a new concoction I’m betting Finn will adore.
I stash away two just for him, because that’s what I used to do whenever there was something on the menu that I knew he’d like.
I don’t want things to go back to where they were before; that is impossible.
So now I am venturing into unchartered terrain and second-guessing every step I make. He will appreciate the pies, won’t he?
Suddenly the air shifts, buzzing with whispers and stolen glances towards the door. I follow the gazes and there's Finn, grinning, carrying a bouquet.
“Flowers, again?” someone shouts.
Finn flippantly answers, “And these will go where they’re supposed to.” He presents them to me like a peace offering, bowing deeply. “I think they look a lot like a fresh start, don’t they?”
Where on earth did he find such a bouquet in Elken Grove? We’re a florist’s desert. Spring blooms—tulips and some I don’t recognize—fill the bouquet. I bury my nose in it to hide my blushing, and draw a big, hopeful breath. A fresh start—that’s all I’m asking for.
He hugs me. Being wrapped in his arms, if only briefly, I cannot suppress a soft sigh. This does not feel friendly at all; this is more.
Finn claims his usual spot and I playfully ask, “Decaf week is over. Do you want black or fancy today?” He is a purist with his coffee and likes it black, strong, and unsweetened, but every now and then he craves something extra. Today, he grins and says, “I don’t care. Surprise me.”
“Leave it to me,” I assure him and scoot behind the counter. As his pastries are getting their golden glow on, I prep a small French press with Robin’s new spice-laden blend, confident it’ll complement the tarts perfectly.
Serving him his coffee, Finn looks at the cup with the steamy black beverage in disappointment. “I should have asked for fancy. It’s a good day to be marked with something special.”
I grin. The coffee looks plain black, but I know it’s anything but. “Well, today's the debut of these tarts, and the coffee's a fresh brew too. Double special.”
Finn raises an eyebrow doubtfully, leaning in to catch the aroma. “Ooh, what’s this?” His eyes go wide, and he makes grabby hands to take the cup.
"The marker for a special day," I tease with a wink, returning to my duties but not before catching the smile that plays on his lips.
When he puts some bills onto the table I walk over to say goodbye for today, but Finn grins and asks, “Would you like to go on an outing with me tomorrow? It’s your day off, right?”
I had planned to do some online shopping.
I never thought I’d buy new maternity clothes, as second hand would have been the more preserving option.
After all, I’m going to wear them for a few months only.
But as things are, I’m not ready to enter a thrift store again anytime soon.
I’m fairly late getting maternity pants, but another day wouldn’t be of much difference. “Sure. I’d love to.”
“I’ll get you at your apartment.”
“Can’t wait.” I bet I had hearts in my eyes when I said that.
???
As promised, a grinning Finn is at my doorstep shortly after I finish breakfast. “Hey-ho, little one,” he greets. “Come on out, welcome to our little pleasure trip to North Carolina.”
“Where are we going?” I am already slipping into my jacket.
“It’s a surprise.”
We go down to his truck and I reach for the handle.
“Wait, let me get that for you,” Finn says and opens the door for me.
“I’m perfectly capable of opening doors, Finn.”
“Not when I’m around.” Finn chuckles. He sprints around the hood, hardly limping anymore, and jumps into his seat. “We’re hiring two more for the team,” he announces grinning.
“Good.” I’m not sure what else to say. I know diddly squat about breweries and the workforce required.
Finn nods. “We’re picking them up right now.”
“Why would you do that?” And there I had been hoping for some fun alone time with Finn. I’m not thrilled at the prospect of sharing this ride with strangers.
“They’ll be staying with me.”
“They what now?”
“You’re going to love them.”
I shake my head determinedly. “I won’t.”
“Ooh, you so will.”
As we arrive at a small farm, modest yet charming, the sight of two giant horses tied to the fence catches my eye—the kind you know from beer commercials.
“There they are,” Finn squeals. “Don’t you love them already?”
He explains he adopted the Clydesdales from a retiring carriage driver, envisioning them as part of brewery promotions, beer deliveries, fun runs, and sleigh tours for tourists. He is excited like a little boy.
“You can’t get everything the brewery needs,” I admonish him.
“Oh, this isn’t about what the brewery needs. I prioritize my needs over those of the brewery. And as you are my friend and high on my list of priorities as such, I want to know: Don’t you desperately need horses?”
I laugh as if he said something insanely funny. Friend, he said. I try to hide my hurt behind a joke. “Absolutely, I didn’t realize how lacking my life was without horses.”
Finn is petting one of the horses and doesn’t pay much attention to my voice. I’m sure it would have given my hurt feelings away.
Before I know it, Finn grabs me by the hips and hoists me up.
I squeal, surprised. But he doesn’t let me down again.
Instead, he sits me on one of the horses.
I’ve never been on a horse I didn’t know before, let alone this big.
Panic sets in as I envision the risks to my pregnancy. “No, no, no, this isn’t safe.”
“Little one, come here.” His immediate concern is palpable as he helps me down. “I've got you. I didn't realize you were afraid of heights.”
“It’s not that.” I’m taking deep breaths. This is it, the moment I tell him. If I don’t tell him now, I’d have to start lying. I open and close my mouth a few times before I finally muster the courage. “I’m pregnant.”
He stills. Emotions flit over his face, too many and too quickly to discern. I should have gone about this differently, prepared him for the big blow somehow. Finally, he steps closer and takes my face into his big hands. He asks, his voice all gravelly, “We are pregnant?”
We. He said “we.” So he knows. Relief washes over me. “We are. How do you know?”
“Connecting the dots. Although I don’t remember that night, I sure feel different about you.”
Internally, I scoff. Friend. But I have begun to tell him the truth, so I might as well carry on. “Anyhow, I’ve been spotting all the time.”
“What does that mean?” He tilts his head.
“Spots of blood in my underwear.”
“That’s not good.” He has known for all but thirty seconds he’s about to become a father and already musters the concerned-dad look. I better not tell him that it’s more than light spotting. This pregnancy all alone isn’t easy, and the stress is affecting my health.
“It is what it is. But I don’t want to risk a fall.”
“What does the doc say?”
I roll my eyes. “Bed rest.”
And just like that, Finn turns into a loud, angry dad. “And you’re walking all over the place? Working even?”
“I’ve got to—”
He spins around and ruffles his short hair, groaning loudly. This could be very funny, but I see the anger coursing in him.
“Why haven’t you told me before?”
“Because your doctor said—”
“Okay, first thing we do, let’s kill that doctor.”
I snort, only to cast Finn a concerned glance. He’s not serious, is he?
“Second, let’s get you into the car. Wait there; I’ll be as quick as I possibly can.”
Together with the seller, he hooks up the trailer and loads the horses in no time, and soon we’re on our way back home.
He drums his fingers on the wheel. “Who knows about the baby?”
“My doctor does.”
“And who else?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I couldn’t tell anyone in Elken Grove.
They already coddled me enough with their smothering consideration—I just couldn’t crank that up a notch by telling them I was pregnant.
And my family?” I look out of the window.
“My parents didn’t take it lightly when my sister got pregnant out of wedlock. ”
“Your little sister was… what? Sixteen when she got knocked up? Of course, your parents weren’t happy. You’re twenty-eight—that’s quite different. Besides, I totally would marry you to take care of my child.”
That’s what I feared. I need him to want me, not to fulfill some outdated obligation. “I don’t need a husband.”
He groans. “No, that came out wrong.”
I glare at him menacingly. “Nor do I need you to take care of me. I’d never marry you unless for love.”
“Ooh,” Finn croons, “challenge accepted. One hundred? Will it be enough to tell you one hundred times that I love you? Cause I do.” He casts me a glance. “See, only ninety-nine more times to go.”
His determination leaves me both frustrated and fond. This man is impossible. But the fact remains that he is talking about marriage and love now, after he learned about the baby. He doesn’t want me; he just wants to do right by me.