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Chapter 13
On November eleventh, which was a Friday, Anne found a card in her mailbox. The first one since she had moved back. It had “Happy Birthday, my love” on the front, and inside Finn had written, “I’ll see you tonight, but didn’t want to break the tradition again. I love you now, then, and always.”
He wasn’t afraid that anyone but her would see it now, yet she did wonder if everything was reflected on her anyway. She was in a cloud made of her and him, and everything else just echoed from the other side of it. Didn’t others see that a cloud of happiness separated her from the world?
But no one seemed to notice except her father, who asked why she was absentminded.
That evening, she opened the door for the third time to find Finn standing there. She hadn’t seen him since he had left her house to pick up Max on Sunday evening of the previous weekend. Texts and calls during the week didn’t cut it. Seeing him there … she still couldn’t get used to the idea, and her stomach clenched.
He was all dressed up. “We’re going to dinner, to celebrate.”
“What? Where?” She threw a quick gaze at the street. It was empty. She closed the door.
“A great place. I booked us a table. It’s a bit of a drive,” he said. “We’ll stay at my house after. It’s closer to Blueshore.”
“How many times did you drive here today? You dropped the card, then drove back, then brought Max?”
“You’re worth it,” he gruffed right into her ear. “Did you like the card?”
“I love it. And you.”
It took them almost an hour to leave her house because, when she tried to change, they had ended up ravaging each other on her dresser.
“I changed into this shirt in the car after I dropped Max off,” he said, buttoning his shirt back. “I didn’t want to outright lie about where I was going.” He was usually in pullovers or Henleys, so a buttoned-down shirt on a Friday evening, just for driving his son, would have required an explanation.
“And I told my parents I had the weekend planned and that I could only have birthday lunch with them on Sunday.” She was sitting on the bed, putting on her pumps. “I’ll tell them. Promise. I’ll find an opportunity and talk to my father.” She sighed. “Remember when he said you were like my brother?”
Finn came over and crouched in front of her, putting his hands on her thighs. He looked at her. “Would a brother do what I just did?” he rasped.
She expelled a breathy chuckle. “We’re so going to hell.”
“I’ll take you to heaven first.”
She laughed, took his hands in hers, and got up, dragging him up with her. “Come on.” From the look in his eyes, she knew that, if they didn’t leave the house now, they never would. She took a small bag of clothes and, after a short hesitation, they decided to leave her car there and drive in his. He’d have to drop her off at home on Sunday before he picked up Max. All this planning did feel like they were having an affair, and she hated it.
After dinner, they drove to his house. She was nervous and excited. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had been in Blueshore, though she had passed by it on the highway on the way to and from San Francisco.
“Is this where you lived with Avery?” she asked when he pulled up the driveway. All those years, she had managed to avoid any visits to her cousin’s house.
“Yes.” He gave her a look and a smile that said it didn’t matter in the least.
She recalled the day her mother had told her that Avery and Finn had separated and filed for a divorce. Linda had blabbered on and said it was a pity, but Anne had been lost in her own thoughts, preoccupied with killing the flicker of hope that had ignited inside her.
The house looked like a semi-bachelor pad. It was functional, organized, and lacking knickknacks. The tables were bare, the car keys chucked into a chipped cereal bowl, and there were zero throw pillows or covers anywhere.
Max’s room looked like a typical tween boy’s room—a mix of childish and teenagerish. Nautical elements wallpaper, a desk with assembled Lego cars and figures, and a pile of textbooks and notebooks, a hook on the wall with swimming medals hanging from it, a gaming console with cords convoluting on the floor, and a black and orange gamers’ chair. On the wall above his bed hung decorated wooden letters that made up his name.
Finn stood behind her at the doorway, wrapped his arms around her waist, and linked them over her belly.
“Did you try having more kids after Max?” she asked. She had always wondered.
“No.” After a short pause, he answered the why that she couldn’t bring herself to ask. “She didn’t hint she wanted any, and it fit me perfectly because I felt that I fulfilled my part ... the guilt over the loss of the first … I made up for it, and I had Max.”
She nodded, leaning back into him.
“You know, I really do think that Max will accept this faster and better than anyone.” He pressed her further to him at the word this to indicate he meant them.
“Yeah?” she scoffed. “You think he’ll be glad to have me as your—”
