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As he finished measuring out all the ingredients, she did as she was directed, grating the carrots. Then he got busy using his biceps to whisk sugar, eggs, and milk in a bowl.
“Add in the dry ingredients,” he directed.
She picked up the bowl of flour, salt, baking soda, and cinnamon, and dumped half the bowl into his. A puff of white dust swirled around them.
He pulled away his bowl. “A little slower.”
“This seems pretty complicated for a cake.”
As he continued to stir together the ingredients, she tossed the overcooked shrimp into the garbage with a huff of regret and embarrassment. What a waste.
“That’s how we learn.”
She turned. “Hmm?”
“Making mistakes with our cooking. It’s how we learn.”
“Yes, but I was just thinking about all of the kids we used to know who didn’t even have a piece of bread to eat, and here I am throwing out perfectly good food because of my own stupidity.”
He stopped stirring and gazed over at her. “Do you think we’ll ever get over the guilt?”
She placed the dirty pan into the sink. “I don’t know. It would be nice.”
He nodded. “Cole flew off the handle yesterday because one of the kids in the program was stabbed trying to steal food.”
Her stomach tightened with a feeling of déjà vu. Cole used to have to steal food. Sometimes it was the only way he could eat.
“He called an emergency meeting of the foundation and demanded we open a boys and girls club.”
“Is that something you can do?”
Finn let out a heavy breath and his shoulders sank into his body. “I don’t know. It’s being considered. I just don’t know if I agree. At least not yet.”
“You don’t agree?” She gave a laugh of surprise. “A new position for you.”
He dropped the whisk into the bowl and turned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She turned to face him and rested her hip against the island. “You never have an opinion. Finn Go-With-The-Flow O’Reilly, that’s you.”
He shrugged. “I don’t like making waves.”
“You think I don’t know what goes on in that beautiful mind of yours.” She knew exactly why he didn’t want to make waves. After living with Vivian Madewood for years, even after becoming a man, he woke up every day with the fear that Vivian would one day tell him she was done and move on. Veronica walked closer and placed her hand on his cheek. “Sweet Finn. Always more concerned about other peoples’ feelings than your own.”
He stood silent for a moment, then spoke, his eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t need fancy foundations or monstrous facilities to make a contribution. I don’t need any of that.”
He returned to his carrot cake. “I’m content making my own contribution in my own quiet way. Helping a few kids at a time in the program. Bringing happiness to peoples’ lives through food and cooking.”
She loved Cole. Had grown to love Jack and Neil. But seeing the way all three of them made this wonderful man feel inadequate just wasn’t right. He didn’t say so. Would never say so. But she could see it in the little-boy vulnerability that sneaked across his face when he thought no one was looking.
She walked over and leaned into him. “You’re the rock, the control factor, the constant to your brothers’ ever-changing moods and grand ideas.” How dare they think he was any less important, any less successful than they were, just because he didn’t boast about it? In her eyes, he was the most amazing man who ever lived. He needed to realize that. “It’s time you stopped playing the dutiful son and brother. Just do what you want to do.”
He was contemplating her words, she could tell. He swallowed hard; his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Jack is the award-winning philanthropist. Neil is the lauded visionary. Cole is the idealistic activist. Who am I if not the dutiful one?”
“You’re an excellent chef. And an amazing mentor to all those kids you teach. What could be better than that?”
He grunted, but she could see that her words made him stand a little taller. “Maybe I should become a licensed mediator. Who else is going to make sure my brothers don’t kill each other?”
They exchanged wry smiles. It seemed they’d both hit a personal standstill. She craved to be more than a boring mother figure, and he wanted to break free of being his brothers’ keeper.
