34. Finn
Finn
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 4TH
“ S o, it’s not much on space but I hear it’s better than what you’re already working with,” Wade Biddescombe’s thick Chicago accent bounces off the walls of the empty condo we’re standing in. His comment would be a little offensive if it wasn’t also painfully accurate.
His pastel lavender suit, however, is an offense to the eyes and looks ridiculous on his massive frame. But I keep my fashion commentary to myself because while he does run a legitimate real estate business out of the town, he absolutely has mob ties that pretty much everyone has agreed to never ask or speak about.
“I’m just happy it’s a two bedroom,” I reply. “It’ll be nice to sleep on a bed instead of a pull-out sofa.”
“You need a mattress? My, uh… cousin’s …got a good mattress store over in Spitz Hollow. I can put in a good word, maybe getcha deal.”
“That would be great, thank you so much.” Because it feels like a very bad idea to turn down any kind of offer from Wade or his family. “What do you think of this place, Lexie? I know it’s on the other end of town from Grandma and Grandpa, but they’ll still be close.”
My daughter emerges from the second bedroom and appraises the rest of the space. Wade and I are both anxiously awaiting her opinion, as no one elicits respect and fear quite as much as a twelve-year-old girl.
“I like it,” she states. I hear Wade let out a small breath. “I wish it had a third bedroom, though.”
“We don’t really need a third bedroom, Lex.”
“No problem,” Wade chimes in. “The living room’s big, we can get some framing in here, put up some drywall, some paint and boom! Third bedroom. Don’t worry about price. I got a guy, he’ll take care of you.”
Lexie looks hopeful.
“No,” I say firmly to her. “Thank you,” I say to Wade…less firmly. He offers me a whatever, your funeral shrug in response. “Lexie, two bedrooms are already twice what we have now. What would we need a third bedroom for?”
“Fettuccini, obviously.”
I rub my hands over my face.
“You guys keep a separate room just for pasta?” Wade asks. “That’s some serious dedication.”
“Miss Callie has a ferret named Fettuccini. He’s used to having his own room at her house, but he can totally bunk with me, I don’t mind.”
“Oh, Callie Stavropoulos? The lady with the color in her hair? I love her! I didn’t know you two were an item, Leo.”
Do not swear at him, Finnegan, he can kill you with one hand. “Well, that’s because we’re sort of in…”
“Still, a third bedroom would be good when you guys have a baby,” Lex pipes in.
“WHAT?” Biddescombe and I both choke out.
“No baby!” I yell. At Lex, at Wade, at myself, and honestly at anyone who might have overheard it. “There is no baby, there will be no baby.”
“You’re not getting any younger, Dad. I’m just being honest.”
“Go wait in the car. And you’re grounded for a week.”
She lets out a groan and stomps away. “Grounded for lying, grounded for telling the truth. Make up your mind!”
“Now you’re grounded UNTIL I HAVE ANOTHER BABY!” I scream as the front door slams shut behind her.
I sheepishly turn to Wade, whose eyebrows are sky high. “Sorry about that.”
“She’s a firecracker, that one,” he observes.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Nah, it’s a good thing. Girls like that ain’t putting up with anyone’s shit. But if she ever gets into trouble, you call me.” He slips me another one of his business cards (I already have five) and gives me a meaningful look.
I have a newfound admiration for my realtor. “I definitely will,” I shake his meaty hand. “Now let’s buy a condo.”
I slip into the car to see Lexie sulking in the passenger seat, and staring at her phone.
“We need to have a talk,” I tell her.
“Oh good, I love it when we talk,” she jabs.
So thrilled that we’re back to fighting constantly. Really missed it. “Hey, knock it off. And put your phone down, I’m serious.”
With a put-upon sigh, she turns it off and shoves it in her back pocket. At least she looks at me instead of staring out the front window.
“You want to explain what that was back there? What’s with the baby stuff?”
“I’m just trying to be practical!”
“Do you understand the kind of rumors that can fly around now because you were being a smart ass in there? I know you think you’re being funny or cheeky or whatever, Alexis, but running your mouth like that can end up hurting people.”
“Dad, I wasn’t being funny and I don’t even know what cheeky means. I just?—”
“You just think you know best. You’re twelve years old and you’ve seen it all, right? So please, tell me, Lex Who Knows Everything, how do you think Callie is going to feel tomorrow morning when The Nosy Pecker is running a story on the front page about her being pregnant, and suddenly everyone is talking about it, no matter how many times she tells them it isn’t true?”
For the first time in recent memory, my child doesn’t have a response. Her eyes glisten and her voice is quiet. “I didn’t think?—”
“Well, there it is, isn’t it? You didn’t think.” I start the car and we both buckle up. I can hear her sniffling as we drive back home, but I refuse to say anything more. I need her to think about the repercussions of what she’s done…and I need to think about how I’m going to tell Callie if somehow the whole town things I knocked her up.
I pull into the driveway and put the car in park. “Leave your phone on the kitchen counter and go to your room, please.”
“Dad, I’m really sorry,” she chokes out. And as frustrated as I am with her, I never want to see her upset.
“I know you are.”
“I don’t want Miss Callie to be mad at me.”
I rub my hands over my face. “Look, we might be okay. I don’t think any of the windows were open and I don’t get the impression that Mr. Biddescombe is a big gossip.”
“But what if it’s not okay? What if she gets mad? I don’t want her to move away because of what I did.”
“Hey,” I pull her across the center console into a big hug, and she lets go of any attempt to choke back tears. “Lex, do you really believe, after all the time we’ve spent with her, that she would get mad at you and leave town?”
She sits back and wipes her nose with her sleeve. “No. But Mom did.”
Have I mentally told Scarlett to fuck off today? Maybe I should throw it in there anyway, just in case.
Except this time, my conversation with Callie a couple of weeks ago comes back to me. I pause for a minute, trying to compose my thoughts. “Sweetheart, your mom didn’t leave because she was mad. And she didn’t leave because of anything you did, okay? I need you to promise me you won’t ever forget that.” I look at her and wait for her to nod before I continue. “Your mom…your mom was scared, and…look, I’ll never be able to understand it fully. But I think she just didn’t know what to do. And…it doesn’t make the way she left okay, and it doesn’t mean that we can’t be mad at her. Real life is…adults…with issues and baggage. And sometimes, no matter what they do or how much they want it, it just isn’t in the cards.”
Lex opens her mouth to speak but stops short. She shifts in her seat and looks at me. “You think Mom was scared?”
“Actually, um…Callie said that, and I think she might be right.”
Lex processes that. “Do you think Miss Callie is scared?”
“I do, yeah.”
“But you told her it’s okay, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like you told her it’s okay to be scared because we’ll help her?”
Did I? “She knows we’re here for her,” is all I can say.
It seems to be enough to make my daughter happy. She gives me another hug. “I love you, Dad.”
I squeeze her tighter. “I love you, too, Lexie.”
She gets out of the car and heads up the stairs to our apartment over the garage, but I can’t bring myself to leave my seat just yet.
I pull out my phone, and my thumb hovers over Callie’s name. I can’t just text her. But I know if I see her face to face, I’ll lose my nerve.
Time to channel someone born in the 80s and just call her.
Hopefully, she answers.