I tossed him an open envelope and he pulled the letter out.
“I’m already getting offers,” I said as he scanned it. “I’ve explained each time I can’t do anything while Amelia is underage, but after that I’ll be open.”
“Ah. And Scarlett knows,” he said, rubbing a hand over his chin.
“One of the offers was in person, in front of her. From Ray Oliver. At the time I barely thought about how it would affect her, but now that I’ve had time to run pretty much every one of our conversations over in my head, I can see she was thrown by it. Long term, I’m not the man for her.”
He handed the letter back and I stuffed it in a folder.
“Just because you travel, doesn’t mean she’d have to. You could come home to her in between.”
“That’s a half life, only being together when our schedules permitted. She deserves so much more. Scarlett is so full of life and passion, that sort of relationship would grind her down.”
“So your solution is that you’re both miserable instead?”
“She’ll get over me. Move on.” I ignored the way my voice broke over the words and was thankful Rakesh did, too.
His expression said he didn’t think much of this solution, but there was nothing I wouldn’t do for Scarlett. Much as it killed me to even think it, I wanted her happy, even if it was with someone else.
Rakesh sighed and stood. “You deserve happiness, too, Finn.”
“She deserves it more,” I said, knowing deep in my soul this was true.
Chapter Eighteen
Scarlett
I knocked on the door of the room where we’d been to the silversmithing workshop and Noela’s smiling face appeared.
“Come on in,” she said.
Adjusting the two canvases under my arm, I followed her. I’d decided to take up Noela’s offer to look at my work, partly because I had to do something other than mope around, thinking of Finn. But also, Finn had been right.
You’re not making decisions about your art or your career. You’re standing in one spot.
Maybe it was because the rest of my life was such a disaster now, but I finally wanted to take his advice to move forward and show my art to someone. Whatever the cause, it felt right to take a step. So here I was. Stepping forward.
“Hi, Noela,” I said. “Thanks for looking at my work.”
“You’re welcome. I’m interested to see what you’re painting.” Her smile seemed genuine, which was encouraging. “Here, let me take one of those.”
She took the closest canvas and pulled off the protective sheet to reveal the portrait I’d done of Harvey. My stomach was a mass of nerves, all seething and knotting together. Much like my early arm knitting attempts, actually. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous—it wasn’t like there was anything riding on this meeting. This stepping forward thing was mainly about not having anyone else artistic in my life. It would be good to talk to someone who understood. My family and Finn’s family had always been impressed with my paintings, but since none of them could draw more than a stick figure, they’d naturally be impressed with anything I made. That didn’t mean it was any good compared to other artists.
“This is nice work,” Noela said, studying it in detail.
I tried not to get too excited at the compliment, since there was probably constructive feedback still to come. “That’s Finn’s dog, Harvey.”
After the first portrait I’d made for Finn’s birthday present, I’d done a series of others, trying to capture different doggy expressions.
“Let me see the other one.” She took the second canvas and pulled the sheet off a landscape I’d been painting off and on for a few months.
“I used some photos I took on a day there were storm clouds over Sydney Harbour as inspiration.” She held the canvas to the light at different angles as she inspected it, but didn’t say anything, so I kept on talking. “I paint in a modern impressionist style—I love to play with how the light falls, and with exaggerating certain elements slightly to get the emotional effect I want.”
“This is really good,” Noela said, still examining the painting. “I’m more a sculptor than a painter, but I can recognize talent.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling a blush creep up my neck to my cheeks.
Noela set the canvas down and leaned back against a workbench. “So, what are your plans for your art?”
“No real plans. It’s a hobby. I’m studying to be an accountant.” I paused, almost waiting for Finn to call me on that, but Finn wasn’t here. He wouldn’t be calling me on that or anything else anymore. So I called myself on it. “Well, officially I am, but I’ve taken some time off.”
Her gaze said she hadn’t missed the undertones in front of her. “Do you like accounting?”
“I like it enough. Some aspects are fun. But, to be honest, I need a regular paycheck and the arts as a career can be unstable. I’m just not built for that.”
She tapped her lips with a finger as she considered. “Have you thought about teaching?”
“Here?” I asked, looking around. It looked like a fun place but I didn’t have enough experience.
“High schools. Your subject areas could be art and math. You might even get some credit from accounting subjects towards your Bachelor of Education.”
A school teacher? That seemed a bit random. “Why would you think of me teaching?”
She shrugged. “It would combine your two interests, give you a regular pay check, and I think you’re a natural. I saw you helping Finn during the silversmithing workshop, and by the end of the night, a couple of others had asked for your help as well.”
Teaching. I’d never thought about it as a career before, but there was something appealing about it. I’d enjoyed helping the others in the workshop, and even training Billie for my old job. Plus, Amelia was high school age and I got on well with her.
Teaching had always been Finn’s area—ironic that he wanted to leave it for fieldwork just when I started thinking about taking it up. Of course, he’d be great at whatever he did. Teaching, fieldwork, kissing. Making mojitos. Sex. Making me laugh. Kissing.
A tidal wave of grief rose up and threatened to swamp me just as Noela asked me some more questions about the paintings and I focused back on her. I stayed another ten minutes, talking about art and teaching, but I didn’t want to impose too much on her time. She’d already been generous, and given me a lot to think about.
And whether or not I decided to follow her suggestion of teaching, having something else to think about while I was struggling to make it through each day without Finn was just what the doctor ordered.
Pulling my new scarf more tightly around my neck, I walked into the school auditorium and looked for Billie…and Finn. Amelia’s dance concert was due to start in about fifteen minutes, but I knew they’d be there already.
I was a bundle of nerves, but hoped to cover it by keeping my hands in my pockets and avoiding talking when I could, since both my hands and voice had taken up trembling tonight. Finn would see through me, of course. He always did.
It had been two weeks since I’d seen him. Two weeks without my best friend. Two weeks without the man I loved. Cathy had been great about letting me stay—and letting me talk—but inside I felt broken.
Amelia had called a few days ago to ask if I was still coming to her concert, and even though I’d forgotten all about it, I’d said of course I was. She’d said they’d bought me a ticket and Billie would bring it to work.
The auditorium had rows of chairs set up, some filled already, but others empty, and a whole heap of people milling around, chatting. Billie stood up from her seat and waved. I gave her a quick wave back and, taking deep breaths to calm myself, walked in their direction.
When I was a few rows away, Finn turned and saw me. He stood, watching my progress. He was so tall and solemn and beautiful and sad, and everything inside me screamed, mine! But he wasn’t. Tears pressed at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them e
merge.
Billie jumped out and hugged me. “Scarlett, I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve saved you a seat.”
They had three together, and Billie was sitting in the middle. I wondered if that had been her idea or his.
“Hey, Scarlett,” Finn said. “Nice scarf.”
His voice seemed to travel though me, finding all the places I ached for him and bringing them to life.
I looked down at the lumpy yellow scarf with its dropped stitches and uneven rows. “Amelia made it.”
“I thought I recognized the handiwork.” One corner of his mouth hitched in an imitation of a smile.
We all sat down, and luckily Billie talked enough for all three of us. It wasn’t her normal mode of conversation, so she was clearly trying to make things easier for Finn and me, bless her. It was even working—to an extent. It just felt so wrong to be so close and not be able to hug him hello, or lean in and tell him a joke, or sit in companionable silence instead of having Billie covering with her stream of observations about the crowd around us and things that had happened at work today.
I glanced up at Finn and found him staring at me, oblivious to Billie’s story about the guy who’d thought he’d been ringing a pizza delivery place.
Everything inside me yearned for him, wanted him, needed him. Logically I knew the feeling had to lessen eventually—supposedly time heals all wounds—but right now, it had only grown stronger since I’d last seen him. The tears came back and this time I couldn’t hold them back. I felt them sting my eyes, then one slipped free. I caught it before it ran down my face, but Finn saw. His face crumpled, the pain in his eyes from knowing I was on the verge of crying made me want to comfort him and make all his pain go away.
Then the lights went down and the concert started. Amelia was amazing in her solo dance. As soon as the spotlight hit her, she had an internal glow and a buzz around her. It was like she was made for the stage.
Amelia’s was the only dance I properly watched. For the rest of the concert I watched Finn in my peripheral vision. He seemed tense, and sad, and that hurt as much as the ache of missing him.
As soon as the lights came up and the applause died down, Billie jumped out of her seat. “Finn and I are going to wait outside for Amelia to get changed. Do you want to wait with us so she can say hi?”
I hadn’t thought about her needing to get changed. In my idea of how the night would go, she’d come out straight away, in costume, and I’d give her the present I’d brought with me, hug her, and go home. Quickly. But I couldn’t leave without seeing her.
“That would be great,” I said to Billie. “Thanks.”
We filed out of the auditorium with all the other people and found a quiet spot on a paved area off to the side.
“Oh, there’s Sasha,” Billie said. “We went to school together. You know, I thought that was her little sister in the fairy costume. I’m just going to duck over and say hi.” And she was gone.
We both watched her go. Finn dug his hands in his pockets. I wrapped a hand around my throat, dying by degrees, with no idea what to say.
“How are you?” he eventually said.
“I’m good.” Which seemed inadequate, as if I was purposely withholding information, so I added, “I’ve transferred my degree over to a Bachelor of Education. I start next semester.”
His eyes lit. “That’s great. I didn’t know you wanted to be a teacher.”
“To be honest,” I said, shifting my weight to the other leg, “it had never occurred to me. But I dropped in to see Noela, the artist who taught the silversmithing workshop, to show her some of my work. She suggested teaching high school, specializing in math and art.”
“You’ll make an amazing teacher—I don’t know why we didn’t think of it ourselves.” His gaze was full of love and pride, and it stole all the oxygen from my lungs. Then he blinked hard and when he opened his eyes again, the light that had fired in his eyes faded away, and his voice had more distance. “Did you get any credit for the accountancy subjects?”
“Not as many as I would have liked, but yes, I got some.”
He blew out a harsh breath. “How weird is it that I didn’t know about your career change as it was happening?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, then there was nothing else to say. We’d done what we’d been worried about all along—ruined our friendship. We weren’t quite strangers, but new things had happened in my life, and Finn was hearing about them standing outside a high school auditorium, in casual conversation.
Not sure what to do with my hands, I fiddled with my scarf. “How are things with you?”
“Much the same. Still can’t get a reed flute to sound right,” he said with a half-hearted attempt at a smile.
“Finn, I want to say sorry.” I didn’t meet his eyes.
“Why are you sorry?”
I made myself look up at him, and face the pain in his dark blue gaze. “I knew moving out, leaving, would be pretty much the worst thing I could do to you.” He’d admitted he equated love with abandonment, and I’d reinforced that for him. Even if he hadn’t said the words. It had been all I could think about when I drove away from his house that final time, hating myself for walking out on him, but still going. “I’m probably the only person who understands that about you, and yet I left you anyway.”
His brow furrowed. “Don’t apologize. You had the strength to do the right thing.”
He thought that was the right thing? My knees wobbled, turning to jelly, and I reached to lean a hand on the brick wall beside me. The night I left he’d wanted me to stay, and that had been heart wrenching. But him agreeing we should be apart? Not wanting me back? That was somehow another whole level of worse.
I removed my hand from the brick wall and tightly laced it with the other in front of me. “Still, I hate that I hurt you.”
“Seriously, I’m the one who should be apologizing,” he said, his eyes pained. “I should have paid more attention to what you’d said about needing security and stability. I should have put it all together before things went as far as they did.”
A sob worked its way up my throat, but I swallowed hard until it was under control again. “We played with fire.”
“And we both got burned,” he said, his voice so low I only just heard it.
The side door burst open and a swarm of girls erupted into the night, chattering and giggling.
“There she is,” Finn said, pointing to a tall dark-haired girl.
Amelia barreled over and threw herself into her brother’s arms. “What did you think?”
“You were incredible,” he said, smiling down at her. “The best dancer in the whole concert.”
“Aw, you’re just saying that because you have to.” But her eyes were bright. His opinion clearly still mattered to her more than anyone’s, and it melted my heart.
Then she looked up and saw me and propelled herself in my direction. I caught her in a hug. “He’s right, you were amazing.”
She beamed. “Thank you for coming. This means everything to me.” She looked from her brother back to me. “You’re talking again. Does this mean you’ll move back?”
My heart broke a little bit more. I opened my mouth but no words came out.
Finn cleared his throat. “Amelia, we’ve discussed this.”
She nodded but the desolation in her eyes just about undid me. Then she blinked and it was gone, and she flashed a bright smile. “I’m just glad you came.”
Her name was called by some other girls and we both looked over. One of them was holding a camera up and the others were beckoning her over.
“Gotta go,” she said to both of us, then took off.
I hadn’t given her the present, but I couldn’t stand there waiting with Finn for who knew how long for Amelia to come back. It hurt too much to be with him and not have him. Especially after what Amelia had just said.
I had to get out of there.
Reaching into my bag, I retrieved the small, gift wrapped box. “Wou
ld you give this to Amelia for me?”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. It’s just the pendant I made in the silversmithing workshop. I wanted her to have something to remember the night.”
He frowned. “I didn’t think of that. I should have gotten her something, too.”
I glanced to where Amelia was bouncing around with her friends. “Believe me, you telling her she was the best dancer is something she will never forget. She idolizes you, you know.”
He laid a hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you wait and give it to her yourself?”
I flinched at the touch and he dropped his hand. More than anything I wanted him to put that hand back. Put it back and draw me into his arms and hold me close. My throat closed over and I knew if I didn’t go now I’d be a blubbering mess in about three seconds.
“I can’t, Finn. I have to go.” Before he could say another word, I turned on my heel and got the hell out of Dodge.
Chapter Nineteen
Finn
That night, after my sisters were asleep, I did something I hadn’t done for a few years—I checked in on them. When my parents had first died, I’d checked on both Billie and Amelia several times a night. The grief counselor said it was a combination of a normal grief reaction—worrying that another family member might die—and the sudden responsibility for them—worrying I’d fail in my duty to keep them safe. Whatever it was, it had been a whole heap of worry.
And tonight it was back with a vengeance. Though, I wasn’t thinking either of them were in any danger, it was… Actually, I had no idea what it was. All I knew was that after seeing Scarlett tonight my chest felt like it was ripped open. The world was off center, wrong, chaotic, and I needed to make sure Billie and Amelia were okay.
Billie never closed her door at home, so I stopped in the doorway and watched her sleep for a moment. She’d been trying to cover it, but she was still mad at me for screwing things up with Scarlett. They’d always gotten along, but since they’d started working together, they’d become good friends.
Next I moved to Amelia’s room and quietly opened the door. Her light was out, but the moonlight streamed through the window, so I could see her sweet face. She’d gone to bed happy after her night of triumph, and I felt that as a huge blessing. Since Scarlett had left, Amelia had been more downcast than I’d expected. Scarlett had probably been right when she said Amelia wanted her little family unit together, and Scarlett had definitely been part of that.
The Finn Factor Page 21
