The Finn Factor

by Rachel Bailey

“Sleeping. I suspect she didn’t get any sleep last night, between her visitor and then getting found out. Poor thing’s exhausted.”

  “At least that gives me a bit of time to work out what to do.” He looked down at the table, his voice weary, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. In many ways, I supposed he did.

  “She thinks you’re mad,” I said quietly, to soften the blow. “That you hate her.”

  His head snapped up as if I’d slapped him. “What?”

  I held up a hand. “Don’t worry, I told her you’d never hate her. But you’re all she has, and I think she’s worried she’s ruined that.”

  He swore under his breath, then stood and paced around the room. I’d learned over the years to let him go when he was agitated, to let him get the restless energy out of his system before trying to talk to him about it. But I’d never seen him this upset before, so in many ways we were breaking new ground.

  “Come for a walk?” he said finally, his voice tight.

  “Sure.”

  We didn’t say another word as we headed out the front door and started down the street. Maybe this time I couldn’t wait for him to start the conversation—I’d have to start it for him.

  I glanced over at this profile in the afternoon light. “Are you okay?”

  He was silent for a long time, and then he blew out a harsh breath. “Honestly? I feel like I’m treading water. Treading as fast as I can, so I can keep Billie and Amelia up out of it. And now the water is closing over the top of my head.”

  I linked my elbow through his. “No, it isn’t. You’re doing fine.”

  He shot me a half smile, showing he appreciated my effort even if he didn’t believe me. “You know, part of me was relieved when Amelia wanted to go to that school. I’d thought I’d be sharing the duties of raising her with people who knew what they were doing. But now it’s down to me. Just me. And that’s not enough.”

  “Of course you’re enough.” Could he really not see what a wonderful guardian he was for her?

  “She had a boy in her room.” He shook his head as he kicked a stone off the path. “Little Amelia.”

  I bit down on a smile. Sometimes I wondered if he’d noticed she was growing up.

  “She’s sixteen,” I said gently.

  “That’s what scares me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “What do I know about handling a sixteen-year-old who’s interested in boys?”

  “Billie was sixteen when you were granted guardianship of her,” I pointed out.

  “But she’d had our mother up until then. She knew about the birds and the bees, had already had a woman help to guide her through the milestones. My main role in Billie’s life was to keep her from going off the rails. That didn’t scare me half as much as what’s going on now.”

  “Finn, Amelia is great. What you’ve been doing so far is working.”

  He grimaced. “A lot of that has been luck and help from people like you.”

  “I haven’t done much.”

  “Remember the time you took her out for ice cream and it cost me over a hundred dollars?”

  I grinned. Amelia had been home for the holidays a few years ago and I’d realized she needed to start wearing bras. So I’d told Finn and Amelia both that I was taking her for ice cream, but bought her five new bras. I’d handed Finn the receipt when I dropped her home, and he’d balked at the amount. “Did you get the ice cream flown in from Norway?” he’d said. I’d just smiled and said, “You can thank me later.” His gaze had skimmed down the receipt and the moment when it landed on the itemized list of what we’d bought, his face had reddened and he’d mumbled, “Er, thank you. I really appreciate that.”

  He stopped walking and his dark blue gaze locked on me. “You have to do me a favor.”

  “Sure,” I said without hesitation.

  “You have to talk to Amelia about the birds and the bees. If she’s had a boy in her room, who knows what she’s been doing? What she knows or doesn’t know. Someone needs to check and make sure she has enough information to make good decisions.”

  “She’s sixteen and she has access to the internet,” I said, laughing. “I’m pretty sure she knows all there is to know.”

  His gaze was unwavering. “But that’s just the point. She needs an adult she can trust to talk to or she’ll believe everything she reads. Have you seen some of the crap on the internet about sex?”

  I sighed. He had a point. “Wouldn’t it be better coming from you?”

  He looked at me like I was crazy. “You know what I’m like during conversations about your sex life. Imagine how badly I’d handle a conversation with Amelia.”

  I winced. There was no arguing with that. “Billie?”

  “If Billie was home, I’d ask her to do it, but I don’t want to wait. And we don’t spend enough time with extended family for Amelia to feel comfortable having an intimate conversation with any of them. I know she’d rather it was you. Besides,” he said, with an attempt at an encouraging smile, “you’ll be great.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to her. But she really wants to connect with you. You have to reach out to her.”

  “I will, I promise.” He nodded and we started walking back to the house.

  Chapter Six

  Finn

  Two days later, I was in the university office I shared with three other PhD candidates, going over the extra research I’d gathered on ancient flutes. I’d spent most of the time since Amelia had arrived back enrolling her in a local school, organizing uniforms and textbooks, and getting her settled back home. Today she was beginning at her new school, and I had a pile of work to catch up on, so I was less than enthused when there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I called, hoping it wasn’t another student asking for an extension.

  Rakesh, one of the lecturers, popped his head around the corner. “Is this a bad time?”

  “Nope, it’s fine.”

  If I could, I always made time for Rakesh. I’d been a first year taking his class, Introduction to Ancient Mesopotamia, when my parents died. With no way to make my deadlines, I’d nervously gone to him to ask for an extension. Once he knew the reason, he not only gave me the time I’d asked for, but took me under his academic wing and made sure I had enough support to keep studying while juggling my sisters’ needs. After that, I’d gravitated to his specialty—Mesopotamia—mainly because his enthusiasm for the civilization was infectious. It had also been Rakesh who’d suggested my PhD be in archeomusicology when he’d seen how fascinated I was by the ancient instruments, so I owed him big on a few levels.

  Today, however, it was an effort to summon much more than a half-hearted smile for him.

  Sighing, I dropped my pen on the pile of papers in front of me. “I’ve had a run of requests for an extension this afternoon.”

  “You, too?” He sat on the corner of my desk. “Is it just me or are the excuses getting lamer?”

  I pushed my chair back and stretched my arms over my head, trying to get the kinks out after spending a couple of hours in the same position. “It’s not just you. I’ve had three students today tell me their computers crashed and they hadn’t backed up their assignments.”

  Rakesh shook his head, as if disappointed. “When I was a student, there was creativity in our bad luck stories. A vengeful girlfriend deleted all copies of the file after being dumped on Valentine’s Day. Or my dog ate the USB.”

  “Or, there was a power surge that wiped out all the technology in the house,” I added.

  Rakesh tapped a pen against the table then flicked it in the air. “You know I’m organizing that departmental fundraiser on in a couple of weeks. You haven’t RSVP’d yet. Should I put you down with a plus one?”

  I scrubbed my hands through my hair. “Yeah, but I’m not seeing anyone. I’ll need to find a date.” Perhaps I could take Amelia? I imagined Amelia—the girl who’d been kicked out of her boarding school for having a boy in her room—surrounded by a roomful of univ
ersity guys, and winced. Maybe not Amelia.

  “Bring Scarlett. Everybody loves it when you bring her. She’s fun.”

  Scarlett and I were often each other’s plus one, like a backup date, but I really didn’t want to take her this time—I desperately wanted things back to normal with Scarlett, back to where she was my friend and nothing more. Where I wouldn’t lose her. Having her support during the problems with Amelia had shown me more than ever how vital her friendship was to me.

  So I needed to find a date.

  I looked down at the notes I’d been studying before Rakesh had arrived. I also needed to find some more information on the exact placement of the finger holes on this flute.

  “I have to head over to the music department,” I said, standing. “I’ll catch you later, Rakesh.”

  As I walked through the grounds of the old university, I smiled. I loved it here—there was a sense of history, of generations of people who loved to learn walking these paths, sitting in these buildings, and dedicating themselves to knowledge for a period of time. In many ways, I never wanted it to end. Which was probably obvious, since doing a PhD meant I hadn’t left yet.

  Three floors up, in one of the oldest buildings, I found the office of Marnie and Andrew, a couple of the advanced students who did some tutoring in the music department. They’d offered help in tracking down a hard to get book on reed flutes. When I knocked on the door, Marnie opened it.

  “Hey, Finn,” she said brightly. “We were talking about you this morning.”

  “In a good way, I assume.”

  Andrew pointed to a chair in a corner of their tiny office. “We had some luck finding that book.”

  “You have it?” I asked, my mood lifting.

  “Not yet,” Marnie said. “But we’ve put in a request for an interlibrary loan, and it should be here in a couple of weeks.”

  “I really appreciate this.” Sometimes I thought I’d bitten off more than I could chew by doing a PhD across two departments, so help like this from my colleagues was invaluable.

  “So, how’s life treating you?” Andrew asked, leaning back in his chair.

  The last thing I wanted to discuss was that my baby sister had been expelled from school for fraternizing with boys, or that I had hippies camping in my backyard, or that I’d kissed my best friend—and liked it way too much, thus risking said friendship—so I just shrugged and said, “The usual. What about you guys?”

  Marnie rolled her eyes. “Andrew is insufferable because he’s been dating Ivy from Social Sciences.”

  “Nice,” I said, happy for him, Andrew and Ivy were both good people. I grinned at Andrew and he grinned back. Then I looked over at Marnie. She’d hinted a couple of times that she’d like to go out, but I’d always been seeing someone when she’d done the hinting, then she’d been seeing someone when I wasn’t. She was smart and gorgeous, and she loved ancient musical instruments, so she was probably my perfect match. And I really needed to date someone right now, to get Scarlett out of my head.

  “Hey, Marnie,” I said. “Do you want to get a drink sometime?”

  “Like a date?” she asked, and Andrew chuckled in the corner.

  I had a moment’s hesitation as I considered Scarlett, but really, that was exactly why I needed to date Marnie. I needed to stop thinking of Scarlett in that way. Or of kissing her. Or that noise she’d made when her tongue had first touched mine… Yeah, all that needed to stop.

  I cleared my throat. “If you’re not seeing anyone, then sure, like a date.”

  She smiled. “I’m free tomorrow evening.”

  “Great.” I nodded and tried to feel some kind of anticipation. “How about I swing by here about six tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be ready,” she said, her eyes sparking with excitement.

  As I left, I wondered that, given that I’d just made a date with a girl who seemed perfect for me, why wasn’t I grinning as widely as Andrew?

  Scarlett

  I pulled the tacos from the oven and slid the tray onto a counter in front of Amelia. Finn had left on a date—which I was refusing to think about—and my mother would be here any minute. Amelia had been home now for almost a week, and it was time I had the birds and bees chat with her that Finn had asked me to.

  I had no idea what to say in a birds and bees talk, since I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t known how to make babies, thanks to my hippie parents. I figured that since it was their fault for telling me too early for me to remember, the least they could do was support me in this, so my mother was coming over to help. She was excited. I was dreading it.

  But I’d thought of Amelia like a little sister for four years now, so it was time to put on my big girl panties and start acting like a big sister.

  “So, who’s Finn going out with tonight?” Amelia asked as she took three plates from the cupboards, her shiny hair swishing against her back.

  “I don’t know her. Someone from the university.”

  “He managed to find another one with a thing for guys in light blue shirts?”

  We both giggled even though we’d probably said that exact same line to each other a thousand times over the years. Some jokes just never got old. Especially when Finn continued to provide such good material with his clothing choices.

  My mother came through the door then, saving me from having to make nice about Finn’s date, who he’d probably kiss until she felt like melting into the floor. I hated his new date already.

  “Hello, you two!” my mother said, holding a velvet bag up high. “I’m so looking forward to our girls’ night!”

  Amelia crossed the kitchen to hug her. Their bond made me smile. I think Amelia liked having a mother-aged woman in her life, and my mother loved kids in general.

  I grabbed the bowls of grated cheese and shredded lettuce. I had no idea how tonight was going to pan out—I’d decided to wing it—but I’d been through my DVD collection and had some feel good chick flicks ready to play as soon as the talking part of the proceedings was over. Which I hoped was soon.

  I gave my mother a one-armed hug as I found all the condiments. “Can you take these out to the sofa?”

  She grinned at me. “For a person who says she prefers a house to a tent, you don’t seem to take advantage of having an actual dining table.”

  “It’s covered in Finn’s research.” Someone needed to buy that man a desk—it was clear he wasn’t going to buy himself one.

  Once we were set up, sitting cross-legged on the floor and assembling our tacos from the ingredients spread across the coffee table, I decided it was time to bite the bullet.

  “So, Amelia,” I said, injecting as much brightness into my voice as I could. “Since we’re here, and it’s just us girls, I was wondering if you had any questions, you know, about boys. Or anything.”

  Amelia looked from me to my mother and back again. “Are you two giving me the sex talk?”

  “No, dear,” said the Earth Mother across the table. “We’re just creating a safe space for you to ask questions.”

  Amelia looked at me, eyebrows raised, and waited.

  “Maybe,” I said, sighing. “Okay, yeah, this is the sex talk.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Did Finn put you up to this?”

  I scratched my head, wondering if it was better for her to think that he had or he hadn’t. “He thought you’d be more comfortable talking to me than to him.”

  “He got that right,” she said, shuddering. “But you didn’t need to go to all this trouble. I can find information on my own.”

  “I know you can,” my mother said, “but since we’re sitting here anyway, why not ask us some things? Between us we might know the answer.”

  Amelia shifted her weight and finished assembling her taco. “I don’t think I have any questions right now.”

  My mother wasn’t fazed in the slightest. “Well, how about I talk, then? First thing to know is that your orgasm is just as important as his. If you sleep with a boy who thinks otherw
ise, you walk away and don’t look back.”

  I groaned. It was one thing to have my mother as back-up on a birds and bees talk, but quite another to have her talking about orgasms in front of me. “How about we leave—”

  “And another thing,” my mother said, on a roll now. “You’ll need to take responsibility for your own pleasure. Men’s turn-ons are pretty easy to work out, but you’ll probably have to teach your first few lovers how to bring you pleasure, so you’d better spend some time getting to know your own body.”

  If Finn could hear my mother telling his baby sister about teaching her first few lovers, he’d probably have some kind of cardiac failure. But Amelia had gone from embarrassment to rapt attention in the space of two seconds. I, however, was still dying from embarrassment.

  “Oh, and don’t believe anything you see in a porn movie,” she told a nodding Amelia. “Not the way the women look, the women’s reactions, or what the women say they want. Those movies are made by men for men.”

  I darted a look around the room. They wouldn’t notice if I crawled away, surely? They didn’t need me here for this discussion. Slowly, so as not to bring attention to myself, I laid my plate down and edged away from the coffee table.

  “Scarlett,” my mother said, pinning me with her focused gaze. “I think it’s time we started the initiation.”

  My blood turned cold. Initiation? Surely, she wasn’t serious?

  “Um, what initiation, Mother?” I said pointedly.

  “We’re the adult women of the house—well, there’s Billie, too, but we’re the ones who are here—so it’s our responsibility to welcome Amelia into her womanhood.”

  Amelia’s eyes had widened to circles, and I knew just how she felt. I offered my mother a smile and tried to sound reasonable. “We’re just having a casual chat about sex and stuff. There’s no welcoming or talk of womanhood here. How about I grab one of those DVDs—”

  But my mother wasn’t listening. She’d opened her velvet bag and was pulling out crystals, statues of various goddesses, a smudge stick, and other assorted paraphernalia.

  “In fact,” she continued, as if I hadn’t spoken, “we have a perfect group for this ceremony—someone to represent each aspect of the goddess. Amelia is the maiden, Scarlett, you’re the mother, and I’m here as the crone.” She smiled brightly, obviously pleased with herself as she passed Amelia a candle.