by Susan Gable
There were moments when she looked almost as bad as Jordan.
She needed help, damn it. And he’d waited long enough for her to admit it. So, to hell with what she wanted.
When the final customer had left for the evening, and he’d turned the cameras off, Finn gathered his staff in the middle of kitchen cleanup. “Guys, I have an announcement. This was our last service for a while. I’m closing the restaurant. Hopefully temporarily, but…” He shrugged.
They stared at him as if he’d grown a second head.
“I need to help take care of Jordan and Chip,” he explained. That brought nods of understanding. His staff had taken a shine to Jordan while she’d lived with him.
Kara clapped her hands. “About damn time.”
“I’m sorry. I know the holidays are coming up. I’ll pony up a month’s severance. And I’ll write you all excellent letters of recommendation—actually, Kara will.” He looked at his youngest sister. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll put out some feelers around town, pass on any leads. I’m sure you’ll be working again in no time. And if I reopen, hopefully I can steal you all back from your new employers.” In the morning he’d call his suppliers, stop shipments and deliveries. Hayden would keep an eye on the building. Sometimes it paid to have a brother living with you.
Without Amelia and the kids, the restaurant meant nothing, anyway. The goal he’d worked for his whole career, his own restaurant, and it didn’t even come close to satisfying.
19 days post-transplant
IT HAD TAKEN HIM an entire day to get Fresh put to bed. Finn eased the Explorer off the highway into a rest area of the Massachusetts Turnpike. They’d been on the road since 5:00 a.m., and according to his directions, had only about two more hours in the ten-and-a-half-hour trip to Portland. He’d hoped to make it without too many delays, but his butt had gone numb. He needed more than a quick bathroom break or gas tank refueling. “Let’s grab lunch, huh, Mom?”
She nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’m hungry.” His mother had insisted on accompanying him to Maine to help care for Jordan and Chip. Other members of the family had also offered to rotate to the hospital to lend support.Amelia didn’t know it, but reinforcement troops were about to land.
Finn settled a baseball cap—swiped from Hayden—on his head. Sliding from the driver’s seat, he went around to the back of the SUV and raised the door. He dragged the cooler to the edge of the cargo space and opened it as his mother joined him. “What do you want? Roast beef and provolone on a sourdough roll, or grilled turkey and Monterey Jack with cranberry sauce on a kaiser?”
She smiled. “Have I mentioned that I like road-tripping with you? The food sure beats what they serve in there.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of the plaza building. “I’ll take the turkey, please.”
“Of course it does.” Finn eased aside the pumpkin pie he’d made for Amelia, now that pumpkins were readily available. He grabbed two wrapped sandwiches, two bottles of water, and closed the cooler. Then he picked up his laptop, which he slung over his shoulder. “It’s too cold to eat out here. Let’s go inside. I want to check my e-mail, anyway, see if there’s anything new from Jordan.”
“You didn’t tell her we were coming, did you?” His mother fell into step with him as they crossed the parking lot. A crisp wind rustled dried leaves along the blacktop.
“No. I want to surprise her and Amelia.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He held the door for her, releasing the warmer air from inside.
“I just hope you—we’ll—be well-received. She wasn’t thrilled with you when she left, and I’m afraid she might feel the same way about me.”
Finn slid into a booth in the food court, setting his laptop on the seat beside him and unzipping his jacket. “What’s that mean, Mom? What did you do?”
“Nothing. I just told her she was passing up an amazing guy. And it wasn’t fair to her children to be raised so far from the family who loves them.”
Finn groaned. “Mom.”
“Sweetheart, you can understand now what it’s like to be separated from your children. It doesn’t hurt any less because it’s a grandchild.” His mother sighed, staring at her sandwich.
“Hey.” He waited for her to meet his gaze. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay seeing Jordan in the bone marrow transplant unit?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. I can do this.”
He smiled. “Okay.” He didn’t want to bring back too many memories of Ian for her, and how he hadn’t lived long enough to make it into the transplant unit.
“Eat your lunch, Finnegan, and let’s get back on the road.”
“Yes, ma’am.” While he did, he hauled out his laptop, powering it up and connecting to the free Wi-Fi. Almost at once, e-mail messages began to come in, including one from Amelia with an attachment. The downloading icon indicated more on the way, but he opened Amelia’s first.
Finn, these papers are necessary to take care of this. They must be signed in the presence of a notary, and we’ll need a DNA test to prove her paternity.
He stopped reading there. A DNA test? He clicked on the attachment.And had to force the bite of sandwich past a sudden lump in his throat.
“Finn? Is something wrong? Something about Jordan?”
He shook his head. Then he nodded. He cleared his throat. “Amelia…sent me paperwork, Mom. She’s amending Jordan’s birth certificate to name me as father.”
His mother beamed at him. “That’s wonderful news.”
“Yeah.” An incredible gesture on her part. He was officially going to be more than a sperm donor. He was truly going to be Jordan’s dad.
So why did that still leave him feeling only partially satisfied?
Because he wanted it all. Greedy, yes. But he wasn’t going to rest until he convinced Amelia that he should be in her life as well.
The final e-mail finished downloading. From Amelia with another attachment. A big attachment, judging from the download time.
Finn—I’m going to let this video speak for itself. I hope you believe in forgiveness. In second chances.
Second chances? Heart thudding, he plugged in his earphones, tucked them into his ears, then clicked open the video.The camera panned around Jordan’s hospital room. Amelia narrated. “This is Jordan’s room here at Portland Presbyterian Children’s Hospital.” Amelia’s hand moved in front of the lens. Everything went blurry for a moment, then the camera autofocused. On her palm, in black ink, was “Wish you were here.”
Finn held his breath. The scene flashed to a sign marked 407. “This is my apartment.” The door opened, and the field wobbled as she walked inside. “This isn’t much like your kitchen, but…” She set the camera on a countertop and again stuck her hand in front of it. The letters were fainter, but the message was still loud and clear. Wish you were here.
Warmth radiated from the center of his chest. Amelia showed him the living room, Chip’s crib, and then finally settled on a bed. She patted the floral bedspread, then flashed her palm one more time.
She didn’t just need him. She wanted him.
She turned the camera around so her face filled the frame. “I was a fool. A stubborn fool who was so afraid of getting hurt. I hope you can forgive me. If you can…you know where to find me. Us.”
The video went black.
She hadn’t mentioned love. But he’d take what she was offering. Elated, he slammed his laptop closed. “Grab your stuff, Mom. Let’s finish eating on the road.”
“Why the rush? Something wrong?” She immediately began wrapping her sandwich.
He again shook his head, a huge grin lifting his mouth and his spirits. “No. Something very right.”
FORTUNATELY, HE MADE good time on the highway. Because once reaching the hospital, Finn discovered the process for getting into the BMTU was excruciatingly tedious.
Three hand-washings, a pair of pa
per booties, a health questionnaire and interrogation by a nurse later, Finn left his coat and cap on a shelf outside Jordan’s room. The volunteer staffing the front desk downstairs had confirmed Amelia’s presence. His mom had to wait in the lobby, since only two visitors were allowed in a BMTU patient’s room at a time—and the rules were strictly enforced.Finn stepped into the anteroom. Through the glass, he could see Jordan in her bed. He went to the sink, washing his hands again as instructed.
He craned his neck to see Amelia sprawled in the recliner, eyes closed. She was probably used to the medical staff coming and going. And she’d learned to sleep when Jordan did. He went to his daughter first, hunching down alongside the bed. “Hey there. You gonna wake up and say hello to me? Pretty sad thing, I come all this way and my two girls are both sleeping.”
Jordan’s eyes opened. Widened. “Dad.” Her grin turned to a grimace, and she winced, covering her mouth briefly. “You’re here!”
“I am.”
“Ohmigod. What happened to your hair? Daddy, you’re bald!”
“Shhh. Don’t wake your mom. What, you don’t like it? Uncle Hayden said it makes me look tough. Scary.”
Jordan giggled, again covering her mouth. “I don’t think he meant scary in a good way.”
“Oh, thanks a lot. Here I shave my head to prove to you it’s only hair, and that’s what I get for my trouble.” Finn stroked the silk covering she wore over her own head. Brown peach fuzz, visible around the edges of the scarf, had started to grow back. “No fair. I think you have more hair than I do.”
“Chip has more than both of us.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure we’ll both have a full head again long before he does.”
Jordan held open her arms. Hesitantly—the wires and tubes connected to her made him nervous, especially the one in her chest—he gathered her into a hug.
“I’m not gonna break,” she whispered.
Finn blinked hard. “No, course not. You’re the tough one in the family. I guess this means you’re not mad at me anymore?” He released her.
She shook her head. “No. I got over that the day we left. But…I’ve been fighting for you.”
“You have? How’s that?”
The corners of her mouth edged up in a tightly controlled smile. “For one thing, I’ve been playing your videos over and over. Especially the one where you say you love Mom.”
“I don’t remember that.”
She looked sheepish. “I thought I had the camera turned off. But it caught the audio. The day you made us leave? I asked if you loved Mom?”
Finn chuckled, taking Jordan’s hand. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. Your mom should have been more careful when she taught you to always have a plan, huh? Now I’m going to wake the other sleeping beauty.”
He knelt beside the recliner, just staring, drinking his fill after being deprived of her for almost eight long weeks. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.
She sighed in her sleep. Then her mouth began to move beneath his. Her hand came up to cup the back of his head.
And her eyes flew open.
He backed away, grinning.
“Finn! Oh, your hair,” she whispered. “Your beautiful hair.” Her lower lip quivered.
“It’s only hair. It’ll grow back. That was the point.”
She bit her lip.
“You’ve gotta stop doing that. You’ll make it bleed.” He brushed his fingers over her mouth. “You’d seriously cry over hair?”
She shook her head. “No. Over a wonderful man who would shave his head for his daughter. And be-because I’ve been so stupid. I need you, Finn. We need you. And—and…I love you.”
She loves me. The realization thrilled him.
She started babbling about pencils, and being stronger with two instead of one, and tears actually started to fall.
Jordan giggled behind him from her bed as her mother melted down.
“I think your mom is a bit overtired, Jordan.”
“I’ll say.”
“I— I’m not making any sense, am I?” Amelia asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. But it’s okay. You had me at ‘I love you.’” He started to gather her into his arms, but she pushed against him.
“I don’t know about marriage. I’m not sure I can do that. You okay with that?”
“Sweetheart, if you won’t make an honest man of me, I will shack up with you for the rest of my days if that’s what you want. I’m sure my mom will have a few things to say about it, but…” He shrugged. “She’ll get over it. If you give the word, I’ll spend my days cooking at a greasy spoon diner in the north woods of Maine, as long as I can come home at night to you and our kids.”
“I don’t think we have to get that drastic. You’re a chef, not a cook. Except for maybe at home. And we can decide where that will be later.” She glanced at her watch. “Hey. How did you get here so fast? I only sent those e-mails a few hours ago.”
Finn took her red, rough hand in his, turning it over. The words had been scrubbed clean by the numerous hand-washings she’d endured since the morning. But he pressed his lips to where they’d been. “You wished me here.”
Heart full to the point she feared it would burst from her chest, Amelia caressed the smooth surface of his head. Though she missed being able to run her fingers through his thick, dark hair, she had to admit the gesture had been the final proof.
Finn Hawkins was no toad. And was worthy of her trust. Her love.
And their children.
EPILOGUE
339 days post-transplant
HAWKINS FAMILY CHAOS in Fresh’s dining room. Amelia wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to it, to the level of noise they could generate, to the amazing joy she felt in the midst of all these people. She’d made the right call months ago, asking Finn to be part of her life.
And then again when she’d opted to study for the PA Chiropractic Boards and relocate to Erie, so her children could have the rich experience of being part of the large, close-knit group. Chip’s cousin JJ could be the brother he would never have.Because despite Finn’s occasional, half-serious attempts to cajole her into having another one, her baby days were over. One insane pregnancy like Chip’s had been more than enough.
Though the benefits had far outweighed the drawbacks.
Seeing Shannon, now six months pregnant, press a hand to her back and sink down into a chair was enough to remind Amelia she didn’t want to do it again, even if she could avoid a bed-sentence.
Greg shot to his wife’s side in an instant, full of concern as he knelt beside her. Ryan, Shannon’s nephew, also rushed to her. They’d finally gotten the go-ahead to adopt the boy. The paperwork would be finalized next month.
A cheer from the center of the room diverted Amelia’s attention as her son—their son—toddled three wobbly steps from the security of his father’s grasp toward his grandmother’s open arms.
Their son’s first steps.
Finn jumped to his feet, flashing a triumphant grin her way. He’d been coaching Chip for days.
“Thank you,” he mouthed, then flashed I love you in sign language—something else he was teaching their son, after reading an article about it on the Internet.
She sighed. A year later, and Finn could still melt her heart with his joy at being with them.
The tables in Fresh’s dining room had been shoved along the walls, making space in the middle of the room for the birthday festivities. One table held a mound of presents, another featured a bowl of red frothy punch Finn had created, along with an assortment of the delicious finger foods he’d spoiled her with during her bed rest. Two separate cakes—one the figure of a superhero, the other a dog—adorned another table.
JJ and Chip, the birthday boys, posed in front of the fireplace. Each straddled a plastic ride-on fire engine, with Michael and Lydia on either side, while so many flashes burst from different cameras the paparazzi might as well have crashed the party.
D
erek’s daughters, Katie and Lila, ran past Amelia, the younger one pausing to sneeze. Amelia froze.
Finn came up behind her, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her against him. “She’s not sick. They’re all well aware of the rules. The kid has fall allergies. Give her a break.” He nuzzled her ear. “Besides, Jordan just started school again. Without her mask. Her counts are good. She’s going to run into germs at school. High school.” He groaned. “We are the parents of a one-year-old and a high school freshman.”
“Soon to be the parents of a toddler and a teen about to drive. The worst of both ages.”
“Something to look forward to.” Finn touched the tip of his tongue to the lobe of Amelia’s ear, sending heat through her. A year later and he could still melt the rest of her, too.
“I’m looking forward to our own party later,” he said.
“You are, huh?”
“I am. I have a surprise for you.”
Amelia chuckled. He’d cured her surprise phobia for good. Now, she always looked forward to whatever he had up his sleeve. “I’ll just bet you do, sport.”
“Ohmigod. Will you two cut it out?” Jordan said, suddenly appearing beside them. “There are little kids around, in case you missed it. Birthday party? Babies?”
“Go get your picture taken with your brother,” Finn ordered. “After all, you’re the reason he’s here.”
She smirked at him. “We couldn’t have done it without you, Dad.”
“Smart aleck,” he muttered, then raised his voice. “That’s right. You owe me your life twice over, kiddo. Which means you’ll listen when I lecture you on the evils of teenage boys.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, then crossed to join the photofest, video camera raised up to capture the image of Chip giving JJ a slobbery kiss—the only kind Chip gave—on the cheek.
Amelia laughed, fingering the necklace Finn had given her as a gift on Chip’s real birthday, four days earlier. The word Mom, in silver, repeated over and over in a circle representing, he’d said, the eternal nature of a mother’s love. Each O held a little white crystal.
