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He enveloped her in his arms and pressed their bodies together. They came in unison, in a slow, spectacular moment he would take with him forever.
Chapter Twelve
Finn organized a stack of his restaurant receipts on the table by date. Then by amount. Then by server. He stared at the small piles of white strips of paper, unable to concentrate on anything long enough to be productive.
This was h
ow it had been for the last four days. Without Veronica.
She had kept her distance since the wedding. Just as she’d promised. She had always been good at that—keeping her promises. But so was he, and technically, he had never agreed to break it off. Not really.
Cal hadn’t spoken much about what was going on at home. He toed the line and did his work—more than his share of the work. Finn had never seen him more focused.
The sun filtered in through the front window. He’d forgotten to put down the shade before he sat down. The rays cast a yellow glow to the dining room, turning white tablecloths into champagne and black chairs into brown.
He glanced at his watch, conscious his staff would be rolling in within the next hour, including Cal. Finn would be spending his evening with the Cooking for the Future program—with a group of kids who were the most ambitious he’d ever worked with. Cal reminded him of a lot of those kids. Maybe it would do him good to see what the other side looked like—kids who had to scratch and claw their own way to get where they wanted to go. Cal was lucky. He’d had everything handed to him. Not that Finn’s situation had been bad, either. Once he had been taken in by Vivian, he’d had plenty of opportunities. But he’d never forgotten where he came from. Never grew callous or took for granted all that Vivian had brought into his life.
Cal had forgotten the instability, the loneliness, the hopelessness, that came with being in the foster care system. Maybe it would do him good to be reminded.
When Cal showed up for work Finn ushered him into the kitchen, and together they hefted six brimming, reusable grocery bags of food into his car.
“I thought I was working?” Cal was actually a little peeved Finn had taken him away from the restaurant.
“This isn’t a joyride. You will be working. Just in a different setting.”
“Do you have another restaurant no one knows about?”
Finn laughed. “I’m teaching the Cooking for the Future program tonight.”
“That’s where we’re going?” Cal scoffed. “That’s not work.” He leaned back in his seat and rested his foot on a knee. “You know, I always wondered what you did in that program, so I guess it’s kind of cool that you’re taking me.”
They merged onto the highway, and Cal didn’t stop talking until they reached the gray brick building at the highest point in the city. Finn unlocked the front doors and turned on the lights.
“Wow. This place is cool.” Cal walked into the open concept kitchen and let his hand glide along one of the countertops.
“It used to be a restaurant,” Finn explained, “but we bought the building and renovated. This was the very first site for the program.”
“Are all the kids enrolled foster kids?” Cal asked.
“Not exclusively anymore. We’ve expanded and also work on referral from the school boards.” He set the grocery bags on a front counter that spanned almost the entire width of the building. “Follow me.”
They took the next half hour to set up. Eventually the students wandered in. That’s when Finn noticed Cal clam up.
The group got right down to work, not wasting any time. He liked to save chitchat for the end of the evening. He always stayed until the last kid was ready to walk out the door. Sometimes, one or two of them would wait until the rest of the class took off so they could speak to him alone.
The lesson tonight was somewhat advanced, since these kids had been with Finn for six months now, but Cal didn’t falter. He’d learned a lot with Chris and Scott teaching him. Finn felt slightly guilty at the thought. He had been too busy having sex with his sister to think about showing the kid the ropes himself. And for that he was truly sorry.
When the stations had been cleared and the food had been eaten, he opened up the conversation to things other than cooking, as was his habit.
Peetie Simms sidled up to the front counter, resting both elbows on the granite. “University applications are due soon, and I’m still trying to figure out where to apply. What do you think, Finn?”
“Well, if I were to offer some advice…figure out what subject you want to major in and apply to the schools that have the best programs.”
Peetie contemplated his words. “I still don’t think my grades are good enough for a scholarship.”
Evan Scarre wandered up and retorted, “I told you to join the basketball team.” As he did every week, he was wearing a Toronto Raptors basketball jersey. “I’ve already got scouts sniffing around practice.”
Peetie frowned. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t blessed with a wicked three-pointer.”
