by Holly Jacobs
“There is?” He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, indicating he agreed with her decision. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and waited for her to reply.
She realized she’d been lost in looking at him and let the conversation flounder, so she quickly agreed, “Zoe’s earned money helping me out at home, too. I think she’s close enough. That is, if you do.”
He grinned. “Close enough. She can owe you the rest. I’m pretty sure you can trust her for it.”
Zoe was practically jumping up and down as they stood in line waiting to get to the ticket box. “You can, Aunt Mattie. You can trust me to pay the rest, I swear.”
Mattie bought their zoo tickets while Finn pecked on his phone. “They’re open until six.”
“You don’t say?” Mattie replied.
Zoe’s expression seemed to shift from uncertainty to glee as she blurted, “Is that a yes, Aunt Mattie?”
“Finn?” Mattie asked.
He smiled, and she said, “Yes.”
Zoe squealed. “Thank you, Aunt Mattie. I’ll be responsible, I promise and I’ll...”
They toured the zoo with Zoe rhapsodizing about cell phones with the same level of enthusiasm that the younger kids did about rhinos, orangutans and the other animals.
Mattie watched as tech-savvy Finn and Zoe chatted about phone options while Mickey and Abbey tried talking to a juvenile orangutan through a glass wall. Everyone was happy. Everyone was together.
It was a good moment. It felt as though the winter had been spent in loss and grief, but spring seemed full of hope and about looking forward.
Not that Bridget wasn’t missed, but the pain wasn’t as intense. It wasn’t raw and bleeding...it was scabbed over. Still there. Still a wound, but healing. Mattie knew her friend would approve.
The store was quiet when they finally arrived, and after hemming and hawing, Zoe finally picked out a phone her friend Jane had.
“Look at this,” she said as she flipped the phone up and revealed a keyboard. “I can text and I can...”
The ride home was punctuated with beeps from Zoe’s phone as she let all her tweeny friends know she’d joined the twenty-first century and Abbey gave them a blow-by-blow recount of the visit. “And do you remember that orangatang—”
“Orangutan, stupid,” Mickey corrected.
“Stupid isn’t a good word,” Zoe lectured even as she typed on the tiny keyboard. “You need to apologize to Abbey.” She snapped the phone shut.
“Sorry,” Mickey managed.
Zoe’s phone beeped again and she squealed again as she flipped open the phone to reveal the keyboard.
“I think she’s officially received more texts in the past half hour than I’ve gotten over the life of my cell phone,” Finn said.
Mattie, who was pretty much a technophobe, nodded. “I never get texts...” As if on cue, her phone beeped. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked. Thanx, A Mattie, a text from Zoe read.
Finn’s pocket beeped, as well. “I’m pretty sure that’s your thank-you from Zoe.” She turned around and said, “You’re welcome, sweetie.”
“Aunt Mattie, Mickey said that I can’t work at a zoo, ’cause I’m a girl,” Abbey complained.
“Mickey,” Mattie said, “girls can do anything boys can do and vice versa.”
“Well, girls can’t be dads,” he insisted. “Just me and Uncle Finn can be a dad. But a dad can’t be like my dad. He left. A real dad doesn’t leave. A real dad, he stays and loves his kids.”
“Sometimes, people love you but they can’t stay,” Mattie said with more generosity than Alton Langley deserved.
“Mommy loved us, but couldn’t stay,” Abbey said. “She knew Uncle Finn and Aunt Mattie would watch us and love us.”
“We both do,” Mattie assured them.
“We do,” Finn said.
That was that. The kids accepted their assurances. Mickey and Abbey went back to their squabbling, and Zoe continued with her beeping and squealing. Mattie was thankful because the kids’ hullaballoo in the backseat was loud enough to make conversing with Finn difficult. He’d pitched out dozens of conversational volleys, all of which she refused to catch and allowed to fall with gigantic thuds.
Mattie thought about yesterday, how effortlessly Finn had handled everything. She thought about today, how well he’d dealt with the kids.
They both loved the kids.
She knew that Finn loved them as much as she did. Yet one of them was going to lose. One of them was going to have to walk away despite the fact they loved them.
“About us and the kids. You’re going to have to talk to me sometime,” Finn said softly as they finally pulled into the driveway.
“Maybe, but not today.” She glanced at him, which was a huge mistake.
He pushed up his glasses, which only served to emphasize the look of contrition and...well, disappointment reflected in his deep blue eyes. “I said I was sorry about yesterday. Things seemed okay between us at the zoo.”
They had been okay. Mattie was able to enjoy the day and forget. But it was a momentary reprieve. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Finn. It was a kind and lovely gesture.”
“Then why the cold shoulder?” Finn asked.
She unloaded the kids and sent them inside then turned to Finn. “Why the cold shoulder? Because it’s for the best. We’re in a very strange situation, you and I. We both love the kids, and every weekend we’re playing at being a family. But we’re a make-believe one at best. You’re the kids’ uncle. I’m their guardian. We haven’t figured out what those names actually mean. And I think maybe we’re trying to make it something it’s not, and something it will never be.”
“So what are we then?” he challenged.
“Friends,” she said, although that definition of their relationship didn’t quite ring true. To be honest, the idea of being a friend to Finn Wallace was absurd. But there it was. Despite everything, they were friends.
Like Lily or Sophie, if she needed someone to hide a body, he’d dig the hole. She knew that with a bone-deep certainty. And she’d do the same for him.
Friends.
It was close enough.
“Mattie, I think...”
“Don’t think. Don’t say anything more about it. I was stupid yesterday, and I know it. Holding a pickup party for me and ordering dinner was terrific. I’m...” She paused, then quietly confessed, “I’m confused and I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
She wanted to say, of you. She’d always had a benign relationship with Finn. He was Bridget’s older brother, someone who’d been a fringe part of her life for as long as she could remember, as long as she’d been friends with Bridget, which was next to forever. There had been that blink of an eye when she’d crushed all over him, but that had been fleeting and she’d returned to her ambivalence in the next blink. She understood that relationship.
But this? This new pretend family thing?
She didn’t get that at all. She didn’t understand why the man who was suing her for custody had become something more than Bridget’s brother and the kids’ uncle to her. “Please, Finn. I don’t want to discuss or analyze anything else tonight. Why don’t you go and spend the last bit of time you have with the kids before you drive back to Buffalo.”
She assumed he was going to argue. Finn Wallace was a man who was used to getting answers when he wanted them. But then he surprised her by leaning down and kissing her
forehead, then following the children into the house.
She reached up and touched the spot that he’d kissed. It felt as if he’d left some kind of imprint there. But that was absurd. Finn’s kiss was as chaste a kiss as she’d ever received. Heck, it barely qualified as a kiss.
And yet, that mere press of his lips to her forehead left her feeling something she couldn’t quite identify.
It might be...longing?
CHAPTER TWELVE
HUMP DAY.
Mattie poured what she hoped would be her last cup of coffee of the day and checked the clock—2:00 p.m. Almost time for the kids to get out of school. The weather had been warm and sunny, and she’d been letting Zoe walk Mickey and Abbey from the school to the store more and more. It meant her prep for the following morning got done a lot faster.
“See you tomorrow, John,” she called and returned to cleaning out another coffee thermos.
The bell jingled over the door, signaling someone had entered the shop. “Maeve Buchanan, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here.”
Valley Ridge’s librarian looked like a classic Irish lass. Brilliant red hair, a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, a peaches-and-cream complexion, topped off with green eyes.
Okay, so her eyes were actually that murky blue that in the right light, or if Maeve was wearing the right shirt, looked green.
Close enough, in Mattie’s mind.
“I don’t skip the store on purpose. I’m simply not a coffee drinker,” the former wild girl about town said.
“I’m sorry, you must be speaking some foreign language,” Mattie teased. “You don’t what?”
Maeve laughed. “Coffee is not my drink of choice.”
“Gasp,” Mattie said, grabbing her throat for dramatic effect.
“I know. I’m a tea drinker in a sea of coffee. But hey, that’s been the story of my life. If there’s any current at all, I’m the one who’s swimming against it.” Maeve laughed.
“I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ve always thought it was better to be original than a carbon copy of someone else. Of course, I am a coffee drinker, so maybe I’m not as original as I think.”
“I believe we’re both safe in assuming we’re not the status quo. I’ve always admired the way you’ve traveled.”
That was not a sentiment most people in Valley Ridge favored and it was kind of nice to hear. “Thanks, Maeve. So, if it’s not the coffee, what can I do for you today?”
“I’ve heard there are some amazing homemade muffins and I was hoping to get a selection for the group meeting at the library tonight.” Maeve eyed the home-baked goods and smiled. “I may overorder, so if there are leftovers, I’ll be forced to take them home.”
Mattie asked, “What is the group?”
“Turns out we have a small group of dedicated Civil War reenactors in Valley Ridge. They’ve been reading a new book about some battle.”
Her expression said that Maeve was less than enthused by the group’s choice. “The book wasn’t good?” Mattie was curious.
“It was good enough, but between you and me, once I discovered which side won, I gave up waiting for the cliff-hanger.”
Mattie laughed. “You were on my list of people to visit as soon as I had a moment.”
“Oh?” Maeve asked. They’d always been friendly, but they weren’t friends.
“Sophie, Lily and I were thinking about starting a book club of our own.” Mattie felt excited at the idea, then remembered that there was a very good chance that she wouldn’t be here when they started. Once Finn took the kids, would there be enough left to keep her here in Valley Ridge?
“Not one that reads strictly Civil War books?” Maeve asked.
Mattie shook her head and forced a smile. “No. We were thinking a romance book club. There are so many subgenres within the genre. We can have suspense, comedy, drama, inspirational... Romance has it all. But we know that at the end of the story, there’s a happy ending. The three of us prefer stories we can count on ending well.”
Maeve clapped her hands, looking as excited as Mickey had been over Bear. “Oh, I love the idea.”
“We thought we might hold it at the library. But more than that, we know that the library is always strapped for financial help, so what if we charge a nominal fee to join? The money goes into the library’s book-buying fund. And when we finish a book, we thought we’d encourage members to donate these books to the library, as well.”
Maeve grinned. “Mattie, that would be awesome.”
Mattie suddenly remembered that Maeve had come here for a reason. “What kind of muffins?”
“Why don’t you give me a mixed dozen.”
“Great.”
She boxed up the muffins and handed them to Maeve. “They’re on the house.”
“The guys always pitch in for the snacks,” Maeve assured her. “It’s not coming out of my pocket.”
“Well, let them pitch in today and use the money to buy a book on Park Perks.”
Maeve stopped reaching for her money. “Thanks, Mattie.”
“Ray’s mentioned that you’re the driving force behind the library.” Maeve was in charge of shipping and receiving at a winery in Ripley during the day, and had evening and Saturday hours at the library.
“It keeps me busy. I don’t think a town is really a town without a library. It was great when Ray got the town council to reopen the old library building. I still can’t believe it had been closed up for all those years.”
“Rumor has it you’re working for nothing,” Mattie said.
Maeve shrugged. “There’s talk about paying an honorarium, but frankly, I’d just put the money back into the library. It’s not just me. A lot of volunteers help out. The shop class at the high school has donated one new bookcase per term for the past two years. And I think most of Valley Ridge has donated their old books.” Her eyes glowed with excitement.
“Well, Park Perks is happy to pitch in.”
“Perfect. And thanks for the muffins.”
“My pleasure.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Maeve set the muffins on the counter and reached into her bag. “Abbey asked me to get a copy of this a few weeks ago when we opened up the library during the day for her class to visit. It came in and I thought I’d let her have the first go with it.”
She handed Mattie a pretty, hardback copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
“She asked to read this?” They’d just finished a Ramona book for their nightly story time, and Abbey hadn’t mentioned wanting to read anything specifically.
“I’d read the kids The Velveteen Rabbit at story time, and one of the kids said they’d watched the movie, which led to a discussion about books being made into movies, and I listed off some, and one was The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and...”
“There you have it.” Mattie flipped through the book and admired the beautiful pen-and-ink illustrations. “She’ll love it. Thanks, Maeve.”
Maeve picked up the muffins and said, “Thank you.”
Mattie was prepping for the next morning’s coffee drinkers when the door flew open and the kids roared in.
Mattie loved working at the coffee house. But this was one of her favorite moments of the day, when work and school were over, and it was her time with the kids. “Hey, everyone,” she said. “How was school?”
“I got an A on my math test,” Mickey said.
“Everyone loved my new phone. I got a bunch of numbers, but not
during classes,” Zoe hastily assured her. “And I didn’t turn it on during school, I promise.”
Abbey was usually the first one to erupt with her news. Mattie scooped her up and realized soon she wouldn’t be able to pick up Bridget’s youngest. “And how about you, munchkin?”
Abbey shrugged. “I didn’t eat all my lunch so I gave my cookies to Roland. He eats everything.”
“Well, I’m glad you shared cookies, not your sandwich,” Mattie praised. “I have something for you.”
That perked her up. “What?”
“Miss Maeve stopped in. She got a new order of books in and checked this one out for you.” Mattie reached up on the counter and pulled down The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. “She said she thought you’d like the illustrations.”
“That’s pictures,” Abbey informed her brother.
“I know that, stu...” He looked at Mattie and quickly altered his sentence’s trajectory. “I know what illustrations are. We did that word last year in vocab. I got an A on that test, too.”
Still holding Abbey, Mattie managed to muss Mickey’s very short hair. “Good for you, Ace.”
“Can we read it tonight?” Abbey asked.
“Sure.”
“Can I read it, too?” Mickey’s question was directed more at Abbey than Mattie.
“Yeah,” Abbey said. Despite their frequent bickering, the fact they loved one another was evident at times like this.
“We can all read it,” Abbey proclaimed. “Zoe, too, right, Zoe?”
Zoe was about to scoff at the idea of reading a bedtime story with her younger siblings, but at the last second she said, “Okay. I can come in for a bit.”
Mattie did one more quick check of the shop, then gathered up the kids, their book bags and Abbey’s book. She locked up behind her.
As the door shut, it finally felt as if her day was truly beginning.
