Chapter 13 #2
“You love me,” Nina sang.
“Good luck,” Brody said.
“Why does he need luck?” Birdie asked.
Finch directed Nina toward the door.
She put on the brakes just before they were about to pass through it. “I need my things!”
“No more yelling,” Finch said, wincing. His head wasn’t bad, but there was a niggle in the back of it.
It had been a long time since he’d been around so many people. Finch needed to get Nina home, then head back to the cottage so he could sit in quiet and darkness for a while. Lynx was there, but he’d understand.
“Sorry,” she hissed loudly.
“I got your bag,” Zoe said, holding it out. “You can get the rest of your things tomorrow. Just go home now, Nina, and sleep. Make sure she drinks more water and takes some pills for her headache.”
“I don’t have a headache,” Nina protested, looking confused.
“You will,” Zoe added.
The women hugged again—there had been a lot of that all day. Finch had managed to avoid most of it, but some people had slipped under his guard, clearly missing the don’t-get-too-close signals he was sending out.
Finally, they left Circle Left. Stepping into the early evening air, he inhaled and exhaled slowly.
“Finch?”
“Nina.”
“I feel a bit funny.”
“Funny as in I want to empty the contents of my stomach, or funny odd, but no puking?”
“Not sure,” she said.
“It’s only a short drive to your house. You want to try for that?”
“Okay.”
He opened the passenger door and lowered her onto the seat, then jogged around the hood and got in his side.
“Buckle up.”
She fumbled with her seat belt, so he took it from her and clicked it into place. He then drove her home as fast as he could without breaking the speed limit.
“Finch?”
“You going to puke?”
“No. I want to say thank you for coming.”
He shot her a look, but she was staring straight ahead. She looked small, he thought, in his front seat. Small and vulnerable.
Finch couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose the only member of your family you had. He was surrounded by them, and while they annoyed him constantly, he knew how lucky he was, but Nina had no one. She had friends, sure, but no family, and that had to be hard.
“It was a lovely service. Your mom would have been proud, especially of what you said, Nina.”
“Sh-she was special.”
“I know.”
Pulling into her driveway, he looked at the house. Finch wouldn’t tell her what he thought he’d seen earlier. He probably should have mentioned it to the Sheriff, especially considering what he’d told Finch.
“I think I’m going to be sick now, Finch.”
He got out and ran around to her side. Wrenching open the door he helped Nina out.
“Key?” he said when they reached the front door.
“Pot,” she said, pointing to a large pot with a shrub inside.
“You’re not serious. Who leaves their key under a pot these days?”
“Hurry!”
He lifted the pot and found the key. Finch unlocked the door and pushed it open. She ran through at a sprint. He found her in the bathroom, on her knees in front of the toilet. She then retched until her stomach was empty.
Finch found a washcloth and handed it to her as she sat back on her heels. “You think you’ve got it all out?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “You can go now.”
Ignoring what she said, he lifted her to her feet. After flushing the toilet, she moved to the sink. “I will never recover from this.” The words were muffled as she had her face in her hands.
“Drinking too much and puking in front of me?”
“That,” she muttered.
“If I’d done that every time I’d puked from overindulging, I’d live in silence,” Finch said, backing out of the small room.
“Bye, and thanks.” Her rasped words followed him.
Clearly, she thought he was leaving. Instead, he turned up the heat in the living area, which was nice, he thought, and full of color like Nina. Finch then went to the kitchen and found every cupboard was open. Shaking his head, he closed them.
Finch liked order, and open cupboards were disarray as far as he was concerned.
Mabel meowed from the floor. Looking down, he noted her tail was swishing from side to side impatiently.
“I suppose you’re hungry?”
She meowed again and then moved closer to a small blue bowl, which he guessed was a sign she needed feeding. Opening the fridge, he found cat food and put some into the blue bowl.
He then turned on the kettle. Hunting through the cupboard above, he found peppermint tea, which his mother used when a family member had an unsettled stomach.
Nina wandered in minutes later, dressed in a fluffy robe and slippers, just as he was pouring water over the tea bag.
“I fed your cat and made you peppermint tea.” He handed her the mug.
“Thank you, Finch, and sorry you had to witness that. But I’m all good now.”
What she was, was cute. No makeup or stylish clothes, just Nina in a fluffy white robe. On her feet were matching slippers.
“Mind if I have a coffee?”
She studied him. “Did they tell you to stay with me to make sure I’m okay?”
“They?”
“JD, Zoe, Birdie, Sawyer—all of them.”
“No. I was sober, so I said I’d drive you home. They have children who need feeding and putting to bed. I don’t.”
He made a coffee. Finding his way around her kitchen was easy because to his surprise, even considering the open cupboard doors, she was neat like him. Nina watched, leaning on the doorframe, sipping tea.
“Maybe take something for your head, and drink more water, Nina.”
“Okay, Mom, I will.”
“Ha.” Finch was suddenly nervous being here alone with her, but strangely he didn’t want to leave.
She used to be the least comfortable person he knew, but that had changed lately. He still felt uncomfortable around her, but that was because he couldn’t deny his attraction to her, no matter how much he wanted to.
He took his mug and followed her into the living room. She sat on one end of the sofa, and he the other.
“The sixties called. They want their chair back,” Finch said, looking at the hanging seat.
“Ha” was all she muttered, huddling into her robe.
“Nina, I need to ask you something.”
“Oh God, what? I don’t think I can take much more. This week has been hell.” She pulled up her knees, the gesture defensive.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?”