Carrie feared Joan might be right and Finn was like his father. He, too, would be willing to walk away from her and not look back.
They sipped their tea in silence for several moments while Carrie gathered her thoughts. “I’d appreciate your help with something.”
“Of course.”
Carrie reached into the bag she’d brought along with her. “I need you to tell me what this is.” She brought out the Christmas gift Finn had left under her Christmas tree. Unable to wait any longer, Carrie had unwrapped his gift before she left Chicago, but she didn’t have a clue as to what it might be. It was a narrow stick of what appeared to be fossilized ivory and was about twenty inches in length.
The night before, Carrie’s father had taken a look at it and shook his head. He didn’t have an answer for her.
Joan reached for the object and released a soft “Oh, my.”
“What is it?” Carrie asked.
Joan reverently ran her hand down the piece, and then raised her eyes to Carrie’s. “My son gave you this for Christmas?”
“Yes. What can you tell me about it?”
Joan nodded. “It’s an oosik.”
“Which is?” This wasn’t helping.
“It’s a walrus penis bone.”
Carrie gasped. “A what?”
Joan laughed at the look that came over Carrie. “Leave it to my son.”
“He gave me a toaster and a walrus penis bone?”
“This one is rather rare, though, if it’s the same one Paul got all those years ago from an elderly Alaskan native.”
“An oosik?” Carrie repeated, the word unfamiliar on her tongue.
“This one is a fossilized baculum and comes from an extinct walrus. They’re highly collectible for Alaskan art. It was one of Paul’s most prized possessions. At the time, and remember, this was many years ago, it was valued at around twenty thousand dollars.”
“Why would Finn give it to me?” She wanted to clasp it to her breast, but that wouldn’t bring Finn back.
“Isn’t it obvious, my dear? He loves you.”
It was too valuable, and it clearly held sentimental value to Joan. “I can’t keep this,” she said sadly, her mind made up. “I’d rather you take it.”
Automatically, Joan shook her head. “Finn wanted you to have it.”
“Please,” Carrie whispered. “It should stay with you. And if by chance Finn and I …” Her voice caught, and she had to stop talking for fear her emotions might overwhelm her. “If Finn and I,” she repeated, “manage to get back together, then you can save it to give to one of your grandchildren.”
Joan’s eyes filled with unshed tears, and she slowly nodded.
Deep down, Carrie believed she wouldn’t hear from Finn again. She’d played her hand, laid down her cards, and her ploy had failed. Finn was unwilling to meet her face-to-face for an interview or anything else. He couldn’t look her in the eye and say the things he had to her while in her kitchen, and they both knew it.
Christmas Eve day Carrie helped her mother get everything ready for their annual Christmas buffet. Instead of the big traditional dinner, complete with turkey and stuffing plus all the fixings, her mother served a multitude of longtime family favorites: several salads, casseroles, fried chicken, deviled eggs, and a ham, plus a wide variety of desserts.
On Christmas Day, friends and family would stop by to partake. Carrie always enjoyed this special time working in the kitchen with her mother. It seemed the most important discussions of her life had taken place in front of the stove or the refrigerator.
Carrie sliced the cooked potatoes for the potato salad, her father’s favorite, when her mother unexpectedly came to her and hugged her. “I know how hard this year has been for you, honey. Your heart is aching.”
“I love him, Mom.”
“Talking about him might help. Do you want to tell me what it is that you find so compelling about Finn Dalton?”
Discussing her feelings was exactly what Carrie needed. Everyone else seemed to tiptoe around anything having to do with Finn, afraid to bring up any reference to him. Carrie realized they were simply looking to protect her, but Finn had become the subject everyone had chosen to ignore.
“He’s not like any man I’ve ever known,” she told her mother. “He’s resourceful and resilient, quick-witted and generous. He has the most wonderful subtle sense of humor. I can laugh with him more than I have with anyone else I’ve ever met. And he’s incredibly intelligent. Everyone looks at us and all they see are the differences, but beneath it all we share the same values, the same sense of what’s important. He told me over Thanksgiving how much he envies me my family, and if he ever had one of his own he’d make sure he would be the kind of husband and father my own dad has been.” She paused, remembering the night they’d stood out and gazed at the heavens. “And while he’d never openly admit it, he loves Christmas. He helped me put up decorations without a word of complaint. He has a Nativity set from when he was a kid and admitted he sets it up every year. I don’t think anyone else knows he does that.” She smiled, remembering how she’d amused herself while he was gone from the cabin. “When I was with him in Alaska, I hung paper snowflakes from the ceiling of his cabin.”
Her mother laughed. “I can only imagine what he thought of that.”
“The truth is, Mom, I don’t think he minded. For all I know, they are still up. They should have been stars, though, instead of snowflakes.”
“Oh?”
“After the snowstorm had died down, we stood outside under the stars. Oh, Mom, you can’t imagine how beautiful the night sky is in Alaska. All those stars—I’ve never seen anything that could compare to it. They were like fairy dust sprinkled across the heavens. I think it was on that starry night that I realized I was falling in love with Finn.”
He’d felt it, too, Carrie knew. Everything had changed between them from that moment on. It’d been magical, wondrous, with his arms around her. He would never admit it, but those few minutes under the stars had shaken Finn. They’d deeply affected her as well.
“What about his family?” her mother asked.
“His mother is wonderful, and she loves her son and wants to be reunited with him. Finn is struggling with that.” He’d never come out and say as much, but Carrie could sense it from little things that had happened, things he’d said and done. He wanted to ignore the fact that he had a mother, but try as he might, he still cared.
“He seems to be struggling with a great deal at the moment,” her mother said.
“He is,” Carrie agreed, and like her, he was hurting. She wondered if he thought about the things they’d discussed when he’d been with her over Thanksgiving. He’d told her his dreams and she’d shared her own, and while they lived in different worlds, they’d found common ground and a deep connection.
Perhaps she was being unreasonable about all this, Carrie mused. If Finn wanted to clear his conscience and be done with the relationship all in one fell swoop, she shouldn’t stand in his way. This was what he wanted. No one could write about him the way she could. Carrie suspected that outside of Sawyer, few knew Finn better than she did.
“I’m afraid, Mom—afraid I will never love anyone as deeply as I do Finn.”
“Oh, honey, you can’t see it now, but in time you’ll be able to remember him without pain. Love doesn’t die.”
“Loving someone shouldn’t hurt like this.”
“True,” her mother whispered, and placed her arm around Carrie’s shoulders. “And in the future, when you’re able to look back, I promise you it won’t hurt as intensely as it does now. You’ll feel sad for what might have been, but the pain will be gone.”
Later, after all the salads had been made and the dishes washed and put away, Carrie retreated to her childhood bedroom. She sat on her bed, rehashing the conversation with her mother. It’d been a good talk, and while she didn’t hold out much hope, she couldn’t help reaching for her phone, longing for a text or call from Finn
.
There wasn’t one.
In a couple of hours, Carrie would be joining her family for Christmas Eve services at their church. She wasn’t much in the mood, but she wouldn’t disappoint her family by staying home. Church was exactly where she needed to be. This was Christmas, with or without Finn.
Before she could change her mind, she reached for her phone and sent a brief message to him.
Merry Christmas. Look at the stars tonight and remember me.
Chapter Fifteen
Christmas morning, Carrie woke and waited for the dark cloud that seemed to hang over her head to return. It didn’t. She sat up in bed with a deep sense of peace. She’d followed her heart, and while she would always love Finn, she was ready to move forward. Today was Christmas, and she wasn’t going to allow her current sorrows to mar the day.
Hearing movement in the kitchen, she knew her parents were up. They enjoyed their morning ritual of having coffee together. How fortunate she was to have parents who continued to love and care for each other. Carrie didn’t want to disturb their special time, and so she gathered her clothes together and headed into her tiny bathroom for a shower.
Her mother noticed the change in Carrie’s attitude right away. “I feel better,” she said, hugging both her parents. “I’m going to be okay now.”
“I know you will be,” her mother said, hugging her back.
“I’d like to give that young man a piece of my mind,” her father insisted. “If I had my way, I’d string Finn Dalton up by his thumbs for hurting my little girl.”
“Oh, Daddy,” Carrie chided, loving him for wanting to make things right for his daughter.
By noon her brother and his family had stopped by for breakfast on their way to his in-laws’. All the gifts had been opened, and Carrie was busy in the kitchen, helping her mother get everything set up for their buffet, when the doorbell chimed.
“That’ll be Charlie,” her father called out from the other room.
“Uncle” Charlie Hines was a longtime family friend who’d remained a bachelor. He made sure he was one of the first to stop by for the feast, claiming he never ate better than Christmas Day at Nick and Patty’s.
Carrie and her mother had barely gotten the food displayed on the table.
“That Charlie,” her mother said under her breath, setting down a pitcher of water. “He comes earlier every year.”
“It’s probably the only decent dinner he eats,” Carrie added, as she followed her mother out to greet him.
Only it wasn’t Charlie who stood in the middle of the living room. Instead, it was Joan and Finn. Mother and son. Together.
Thankfully, Carrie had set down the last of the salads from the kitchen; otherwise, there would be lettuce and heaven knew what else tossed all across the carpet.
“Merry Christmas,” Joan said. “I hate to intrude, but I brought someone with me I thought you might like to see.”
Carrie’s mouth had gone completely dry. She couldn’t utter a word—not a single, solitary word.
“You’re not intruding,” Carrie’s mother assured her, as she stepped forward to clasp the other woman’s hand. “I’m Patty Slayton, Carrie’s mother.”
“Joan Dalton Reese, Finn’s mother.”
The two women hugged, and the introductions continued as Nick came in.
Finn’s intense gaze settled on Carrie. Everyone seemed to be watching them. Carrie wanted to welcome them both, but couldn’t because she found it impossible to speak. Never, in all her life, had she seen a more welcome sight than Finnegan Dalton standing in the middle of her parents’ living room early Christmas afternoon. He seemed to fill up the space, his eyes boring into hers, waiting, questioning.
Not knowing what else to do, Carrie did what seemed to be the only sensible thing—she rushed across the room and launched herself into Finn’s arms.
He caught her around the waist, lifting her off the floor. And then they were kissing. It felt as if the last few weeks boiled down to this one hungry, passionate kiss. It was as if they were starved for each other.
Carrie’s hands framed his face, his beautiful bearded face. The beard wasn’t as thick as before, but his whiskers were back. His beautiful, dark whiskers. It didn’t matter that they had an audience or that Joan was chatting animatedly with her parents. The only important thing was Finn, the man she loved.
“Come into the family room,” her mother was saying to Joan. “I have the feeling these two might appreciate a few minutes alone.”
“Before he leaves I want to talk to that young man,” her father objected.
“Not to worry,” Joan assured him. “I believe Finn wants to talk to you, too.”
And then it was just the two of them, as her parents and Joan left the room.
Finn lowered her until her feet were on the floor. Carrie kept her hands on his face, unable to stop looking at him. “You’re here,” she whispered. “You’re actually here.”
She led him to the sofa and then sat on his lap. His eyes were eating her up as if he’d been without water for far too long and she was a freshwater spring. “What have you done to me, Carrie Slayton?”
“Loved you,” she returned.
“I gave you the career opportunity of a lifetime, and you turned it down.” He shook his head as if even now he couldn’t believe that she’d refused. Carrie found it hard to believe herself, only it had been necessary.
“My career isn’t nearly as important as you are.”
“This is crazy, Carrie. We have everything going against us. You live in Chicago, and I’m in Alaska …”
“I’ll move,” she said, cutting him off, and then pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him in a way that left them both weak and breathless. “We’ll make it work,” she insisted, her eyes still closed. She reveled in the taste and feel of him holding her. It’d been far too long since she’d been in his arms. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d missed his touch.
“When you kiss me like that you make me believe.”
“Good.” She couldn’t keep from touching him. Her hands roamed over his neck and shoulders, savoring the feel of him. “You’ve reconciled with your mother?”
He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I’d pushed you out of my life. I’d been alone before, but not like this, and then I remembered something you’d said.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “I asked if my mother needed anything, and you said the only thing she really needed was her son.”
“I was with her yesterday morning.” Carrie couldn’t believe Joan would hold back the news that she’d heard from Finn.
“I didn’t call her before I came. I wasn’t sure I had the courage to go through with it until I pulled up to her house late last night. I told myself I was coming to Seattle to make amends with her, but the real reason was I couldn’t stay away from you. Not for another minute.”
“Oh, Finn, this is the best Christmas of my life.”
He couldn’t seem to stop staring at her. “You gave my mother the oosik,” he commented.
Carrie lowered her gaze. “I couldn’t keep anything that valuable, Finn. It was more important that she have it than me.”
“But what you said to her,” he returned, frowning.
Carrie couldn’t remember anything specific. “What do you mean?”
“That if the two of us were to get back together, she should save it for one of her grandchildren.”
Carrie relaxed and smiled. The warm, happy feeling that had come over her that morning intensified. Had her heart known Finn was close? she wondered. She hardly knew how else to explain this sensation.
“You want it all, don’t you? Marriage, children, a career.”
“Of course. It’s what you want, too, Finn.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, “more than I ever knew, although I didn’t realize it until I met you.”
Carrie braced her forehead against his
. “It doesn’t matter to me where we settle—Alaska, Washington, Illinois—because my home is wherever you are.”
He hugged her even closer. “I thought I could walk away from you, but I couldn’t. I’ve never needed anyone the way I need you. I felt alone, truly alone, for the first time. Then you sent me that text, reminding me about the night we viewed the stars. You asked me to remember you. Did you honestly believe forgetting you was even possible? I fell in love with you that starry night.”
“That was the night when I realized I was falling in love with you, too,” she confessed. It had been that special moment, gazing up at the heavens, when she’d felt that connection with Finn, unaware that from that moment forward their futures would be forever linked. It seemed as though the heavens had smiled down on them both and offered them a blessing.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Carrie whispered, worshipping him with her eyes, loving him so much it felt as though her heart were about to crack wide open.
“Oh, yes, I’m here and I’m not going away. I doubt Sawyer is talking to me any longer, and even Hennessey looks at me with disgust.” He studied her, his gaze delving into hers. “I hardly know myself any longer.”
“Oh, Finn, I love you so much.”
He brushed the hair from her forehead. “Answer me truthfully, Carrie. Would you seriously consider resigning from your job with the newspaper?”
This wasn’t a difficult question. Carrie nodded. Her ultimate goal had always been to eventually return to Seattle. “I don’t have to work for a newspaper to be a writer. I’d even be happy freelancing from home.”
He hugged her close. “My home is wherever you are. I think to be fair to us both, we can divide our time between Seattle and Alaska.”
“You’d be willing to do that?”
Finn smiled down on her and kissed her again. “I want the opportunity to get to know my mother, and this will give you a chance to be close to your own family. We’ll make it work, Carrie.”
“My home is with you and with Hennessey, and then later, of course, we’ll be adding to the family.”
Starry Night Page 15
