by Holly Jacobs
Sophie and Colton, and her parents—their love was palpable on the dance floor with such strength that Mattie sighed again over the beauty of it.
“You sigh a lot when you’re around me, but the last couple had a different sort of tone.” Finn nodded at the dancing couples and asked, “You going all girlie on me, Mattie?”
She’d half forgotten he was still nearby. “As if.”
“That sigh sounded all warm and gush—”
“Enough. Don’t tease me, or talk to me as if we’re friends. Hell, don’t even talk to me as if we’re acquaintances. I will pretend that we’re getting along in front of the kids, and even other people, but when it’s you and me, there can’t be any pretense. I can’t stomach it. Every time I look at you I remember how little you think of me, and I could hurl. And—”
Zoe joined them and interrupted Mattie’s rant. Mattie pasted a smile on her face and asked, “Having a good time?”
“Aunt Mattie, Mickey is chasing Abbey around outside with a mud ball. He says he’s going to smash it in her hair, and she’s screaming that she doesn’t want to get dirty and wash off Mom’s hug. I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen to me.” Zoe simply stood there, staring at Mattie, expecting her to deal with her younger siblings, her disgust at their antics apparent.
Finn took half a step forward, as if he was going to sort out the mess, but Mattie said, “I’m on it. Go have fun.”
“Yeah, tons of fun,” Zoe muttered. “Dorky country music and all kinds of mushy stuff. Gross.”
Mattie once again practiced ignoring preteen snarkiness. She simply smiled at Zoe, who scowled in response then stomped back into the melee.
“Sure you don’t want some help?” Finn offered.
“No. I’m sure you’ll take notes, though. Kids fought at engagement party. Obviously due to bad guardianship.” She scribbled on an imaginary notepad. “I’m sure you’ve got all kinds of ammunition. And in case you missed it, I didn’t insist that the kids eat vegetables tonight. Bad, bad guardian.”
“Mattie, I...”
She didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. Instead, she took off for the exit. But before she went outside to corral her young charges, she had one more look at the dance floor, trying to store the image away as a reminder that people really did fall in love, say their vows and have it last forever.
She suddenly needed to believe that happily-ever-afters did exist, though she wasn’t sure why.
Then she made the mistake of glancing at Finn, who stood there glowering in her general direction, obviously annoyed.
Dr. Finn Wallace was accustomed to having things his own way. And he might be able to go after her for custody, and she might have to pretend as if they were best buddies in public, but in private, there was no way she would let him off the hook by playing buddy-buddy with him.
The man was suing her, after all.
She hurried outside. The temperature had dropped noticeably because she could see her breath.
“Aunt Mattie,” Abbey shrieked as she ran toward the John Deere tractor with Mickey close on her heels. “He’s gonna kill me. Save me!”
Her quiet interlude over, Mattie called out, “Michael! You put that mud down...”
CHAPTER THREE
FINN WOKE UP the next morning and for a few seconds he couldn’t identify his surroundings. It wasn’t his bedroom, nor was it an empty bed at the hospital.
Sunday morning. Right.
JoAnn’s Bed-and-Breakfast. That’s where he was.
He was still in Valley Ridge, although he did have to be back in Buffalo this evening. One of his partners had taken his rounds for the weekend, but he had to check on patients before heading into his office for a busy Monday schedule.
So, he had a day of the week and a place. What time was it? It was still dark outside, which in March meant a variety of possibilities.
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand.
Five thirty-four.
He flopped back down on the pillow.
He wished he had the ability to sleep in. He’d lost it somewhere along the way, probably during his residency, but maybe as early as medical school. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in bed past six in the morning.
Well, he might be awake, but that didn’t mean he had to get up quite yet.
Finn looked up at the ceiling and for a while he thought about work. About patients. Mrs. Chuzie had her hernia surgery this week. She’d put it off as long as she could. She was terrified of doctors and hospitals. He was hoping for an uncomplicated procedure, but every surgery carried risks, and he tried to remember that. There were always so many variables. He would never allow himself to feel blasé about any operation.
He thought about his condo and realized he hadn’t called maintenance about the leak in the shower. The dripping might possibly drive him mad.
He thought about the kids. He’d have to find something other than his two-bedroom condo for them. Maybe something out in the burbs? Of course, that would mean a longer commute and cut back on the amount of time he’d have for them. He’d hire someone to be there when he couldn’t. Someone qualified, and...
Thinking of hiring someone to pick up the slack made him think about Mattie. He’d expected her to rage against him when he showed up at the door. He expected his sister’s feisty best friend to tell him to go to hell. That was the thing he expected from Mathilda Keith...she was a woman with a fiery soul. Fierce and unafraid.
And yet, she hadn’t told him to go to hell. She hadn’t told him he couldn’t see the kids. She’d let him in to spend the entire day with them. She hadn’t mentioned his lawsuit at all, but had carried on as if they were best buddies, at least when the kids were in the vicinity. She cooked beside him in Bridget’s kitchen, and for some reason, she’d grimaced every time he’d run a knife across the top of the measuring cup to be sure he had the exact amount. But whatever she didn’t like about it, she hadn’t said a word.
Despite her brave face and her utter politeness, he knew she was hurt. Finn had stood there at the party as Zoe had come to tattle on Mickey and interrupted Mattie’s thoughts. She’d been watching people dance, and she’d sighed.
It was such a heartfelt sound, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been thinking about the lawsuit, worrying about it.
He felt a spurt of guilt, which he promptly quashed. Having the kids come live with him was in everyone’s best interest—Mattie included—even if she couldn’t or wouldn’t see that. She could resume her old lifestyle, unencumbered by her promise to his sister.
He would be able to make sure the children went to the best schools. He could make sure they had everything.
Except his time, he could almost hear Mattie say.
He was back to that. Time. He figured his sister would echo Mattie’s sentiment. The kids don’t need things, she’d tell him on their birthdays or holidays when he showed up with the newest this, or the biggest that. They need you, she’d say. They need to know they have an uncle who cares.
Well, he was here in Valley Ridge this weekend, giving them his time. He was going to try to get off more weekends this spring and summer in order to make their transition to his guardianship easier for them this fall.
His lawyer told him that child custody cases moved faster than other types of cases. That way the children would have the question of guardianship answered as soon as possible. Of course, Mattie could visit the kids whenever she wanted. And he’d keep the family home here in Valley Ridge and bring the kids back as often as he could.
As-often-as-he-could hadn’t translated into very often when Bridget had gotten sick. Another wave of guilt threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed the thoughts away, gave up on the idea of staying in bed. Instead, he got dressed and went downstairs.
Finn walked into JoAnn’s huge kitchen. He wondered what she could possibly keep in the floor-to-ceiling cabinets. He was pretty sure he had a se
t of pots and pans somewhere, but he’d probably have to go scrounging for them if he wanted to cook. Finn basically considered the kitchen in his condo as a place to hold his coffeemaker and the refrigerator, which was more apt to have beverages than actual food in it.
JoAnn had preprogrammed her coffeemaker for him and he poured himself a cup in a to-go mug she’d left out.
It was still dark, but he was up and raring to go. So he decided to take a walk. It was rare that he didn’t have the hospital to go to. He shrugged into his coat, left JoAnn’s pristine white Victorian home with his to-go cup in hand and wandered up Lakeview Drive, past the house of one of his best friends, Sebastian.
Sebastian’s grandfather, Hank, had taken his grandson in after his mother ditched him at the age of five. They’d all started kindergarten together—Finn, Colton and Sebastian.
Hank’s house was a smaller version of JoAnn’s, but it did boast an additional guesthouse out back. For as long as he could remember, Hank had taken in boarders. Mr. Miller had been Finn’s favorite. He’d seemed ancient when Finn was young, and he’d taught the boys how to spit properly. Mr. Miller had claimed a man wasn’t a man unless he could spit at least a couple feet.
Sebastian had considered it a point of pride that he could get the most distance of the three of them. When you were ten, Best Spitter was a proud title. Remembering those days made Finn smile.
He stood staring at Hank’s house, which had felt as much like home as his own, two blocks south from here on Lakeview. He and the other boys had been convinced that JoAnn—then referred to as Mrs. Rose—lived in a haunted house. More specifically, that her house was haunted by the late Mr. Rose. They’d spent hours with binoculars at his window, looking for proof that Mr. Rose’s tormented soul still wandered the bigger house next to Sebastian’s. But for all their watching, they’d never seen a ghost.
Finn was eighteen when he found out Mrs. Rose had never had a Mr. Rose. JoAnn had started calling herself “missus” because she’d reached a stage of spinsterhood where a wedding was probably never going to happen. When he checked in yesterday, she’d told him to call her JoAnn, and he’d tried to oblige, but she’d always be Mrs. Rose to him. And he’d probably always peer around the corners of her home, searching for ghosts.
Of course, for Finn, everything about Valley Ridge had ghosts hiding behind it. It wasn’t only losing his parents when he was in med school. Or losing Bridget just a month ago. So many things he’d felt close to had gone.
The bridge over Cooper Creek. Colton had dared him to walk the railing. His taking the dare had led him to spend the rest of his eleventh summer in a cast.
The diner, where Maeve Buchanan had once punched the local cop in the nose.
Some memories made him smile, some not so much.
On Park Street, the main street in Valley Ridge, he smiled when he saw the sign for MarVee’s Quarters. He remembered when Marilee and Vivienne had bought and renovated the old Five and Dime. It had been closed since he was a kid. The store still had a retro feel that fit in well with the rest of the blink-and-you’d-miss-it town.
Rich Keith’s coffee shop, Park Perks, was one of the newer businesses in Valley Ridge’s small business area. It sat across from MarVee’s on the south side of Park Street. Although the actual business was only a few years old, the old brick storefront had an air of history to it that Mattie’s brother had capitalized on. The building seemed to announce that this was no chain store, something you’d find on every other street corner in every city across the country. No, the building said that this was a coffee shop that was completely individual. The redbrick exterior sported a plate-glass window that announced Park Perks over a graphic of a steaming mug of coffee. Inside, there was an eclectic mix of old tables and chairs, as well as a few upholstered chairs arranged in conversation-friendly groupings. But a sign on the door proudly proclaimed the shop was a Wi-Fi hot spot. Old and new. That sense of continuity mixed with the ability to embrace new innovations.
A light came on inside the shop and Finn could see Rich through the giant front windows as he bustled around, probably getting ready to catch the pre- and post-church crowds. A giant stack of newspapers sat outside the door.
Finn dumped the now-cold remains of JoAnn’s coffee and arrived at Rich’s just as the owner flipped the sign to Open. Mattie’s brother held the door open for him to enter. “Well, if it isn’t Valley Ridge’s own Doctor Finn, medicine man.”
“Rich Keith.” Finn extended his hand and shook Rich’s. “It’s good to see you. I’m out of coffee and in need. I was hoping you had some ready.”
Rich was the younger of Mattie’s brothers. Finn had very few memories of him as a kid. There was enough of an age gap that they’d never run in the same circles. But with the high school and grade schools next to each other, older kids and younger kids walked or were bussed together.
Finn had one distinct memory of Rich, though. A first day of school with Bridget, Mattie and her little brothers. Mattie had held her brothers’ hands. He’d tried to hold Bridget’s and, with what he’d always suspected was Mattie’s instigation, she’d slugged him.
There was nothing little about Mattie’s brother anymore. He was at least a couple inches taller than Finn’s own six feet.
Rich took Finn’s cup. “Here at Park Perks we aim to please.” He refilled it and handed it back. “I caught a glimpse of you last night at the big party, but didn’t make it over to say hi. Can you believe the turnout?”
“It was sort of overwhelming.” After Mattie went to take care of the kids fighting, he’d tried to follow, but he’d been waylaid by old friends and acquaintances, passed from one to another and grilled about his life in Buffalo.
The recurring question of the evening was, was he seeing anyone? At Bridget’s funeral, the town had established he wasn’t married and didn’t have kids. It seemed his friends were keen for him to find someone. And he probably would find someone who was compatible someday, but the idea of a soul mate? Well, he wasn’t sure he believed in that kind of all-consuming love.
His sister thought she’d found it, but her ex, Alton Langley, had gotten tired of playing the family man and simply left...without looking back. He’d signed over his parental rights, as if signing a piece of paper could erase the kids and the life he’d promised Bridget.
No, if that’s what a soul mate meant, Finn was happy to count himself out of the quest for one. He’d happily settle for finding someone who shared his likes and dislikes, and whose temperament suited his own. Someone who would fit in his life without causing any ripples.
“I’m sure the kids were glad to see you,” Rich said, thankfully interrupting his thoughts about soul mates.
Finn snorted. “Not really. No one was really overjoyed.”
Rich leaned into the bar. “I hear my sister’s name hidden beneath that no one.”
“I don’t think I’m her favorite person.” He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, then took a long, slow sip of the coffee. “Good stuff,” he said, hoping to turn the tide of the conversation.
Rich was unturnable. “You wanted to take the kids from her. I seem to remember you telling Mattie that she couldn’t cut it as a guardian, and it seems to me I recall hearing that you told Mattie that Bridget had probably signed the papers making her guardian when she was high on pain meds.”
“Finding out Bridget left custody to Mattie was a shock, and afterward was not my finest moment. Mattie didn’t deserve the way I treated her. I was grieving and said things I regret, not that grief is a good excuse, but it’s all I have. And I did apologize.”
One month. It had only been one month since Bridget died. Sometimes Finn still forgot that she was gone.
With Bridget here, Finn had always known he had somewhere he belonged. He knew he had someone who was in his corner. He knew he had someone who loved him unconditionally.
He hadn’t realized how much he relied on his sister...until he lost h
er.
The pain was suddenly overwhelming. Fresh and fierce.
He pushed it away, burying it as deeply as possible and forced himself to focus on Mattie’s brother. From the way Rich was talking, she hadn’t told him about the papers that had been served yesterday. She hadn’t told her brother that Finn was more than talking about custody now, that he was actively pursuing it.
“You and I both know that no matter how much she loves the kids, Mattie’s not the staying kind,” Finn said, justifying his suit if only to himself.
“She does love those kids” was all Rich said in response.
“I do, too.” And he did. He knew they had no reason to believe it, that he hadn’t been around as much as he should have, but he’d do anything for the kids. They were the only family he had left.
Rich simply nodded.
The conversation had turned too painful, so Finn checked out the pastries in the nearby case. “Speaking of the kids, why don’t you load up a dozen doughnuts. I’ll surprise them for breakfast.”
Rich frowned. “Mattie won’t like that. She’s very particular about food.”
“The same Mattie who once ate an entire birthday cake by herself?” He remembered Bridget coming home from Mattie’s party. They’d been maybe eight or nine, and he’d asked how the party was. Bridget had burst out laughing and said that it was fine except there was no cake.
“Yeah, that Mattie. My mom wanted to kill her when she found out she’d eaten the whole thing. Mattie really, really likes whipped-cream frosting. But she swears she’s reformed since she spent some time in California working in a Whole Foods Grocery store. She’s more nutritious-minded now. She’s why I have this case.” He pointed to a large tray filled with muffins. “If you want to get a few brownie points show up with these instead. She likes the whole-wheat banana blueberry, the younger kids like the carob-chip and Zoe’s big on the cinnamon carrot cake ones.”
Smoothing things over with Mattie was a good idea. Maybe he could still convince her to let him have custody without taking the matter to court. “Some of those and mix up the rest of the dozen.”
