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“Not much. I think Max did a number on her. Sometimes children should tell their parents things as they are.” He winked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Don’t ask how I know this,” Libby began as soon as Anne picked up her call, “but there’s a motion to lift Finn’s restraining order and an updated request was submitted to the court.”
Anne pressed the phone to her ear. She had taken the call outside the bakery’s back door, but the increasing New Year’s afternoon bustle from Ocean Avenue reached there, too.
“So, could this mean that Avery is backing out on this?”
“It could mean that. I couldn’t get further details, but canceling the restraining order altogether is a good sign. I thought you’d want to know.”
“I do. Thank you so much, Libby! I really appreciate this.” Some people were just there when you needed them, she thought. Some people knew how to be a friend. She hoped she knew how to be a friend. Her early experiences hadn’t helped her feel confident in that field, and it had taken time to open herself up. If she had met Libby earlier on, maybe they could have been friends. But then her parents buying Connie’s bakery could have felt even stranger than it had.
“You’re welcome. Let me know if I can help with anything,” Libby said.
“Do you think Finn knows?”
“It just came in today. Even if he does, he’d have to respond to it, and only the court can finalize any change or update. Until then, things still stand as they are now.”
This meant she still couldn’t get in touch with him. And knowing Avery’s volatility, she didn’t want to sabotage this positive direction.
After finishing the last round of this year’s food project, she returned to help at the shop. They closed late, needing the business of those who entered to buy things for New Year's Eve parties.
She wanted to head home before the celebrations on Ocean Avenue began. Despite the good news, things were still up in the air, and she didn’t feel celebratory. The colorful string lights from one side of the street to the other, the general good spirits, and the Happy New Year greetings that filled the air in the bakeshop and on the street made her feel like going home, drinking a glass of bubbly alone, and maybe paint, if she could find it in herself. Bella was away with her family, getting the new house ready. And really, there was only one person she wanted to be with tonight—Finn. She didn’t even know if he was back home from visiting.
As she made her way from the bakery to her house by foot, the coffee shops, the beach restaurants, and the streets were buzzing with people. She bumped against two men whom she imagined for a second were Finn, but they didn’t have his height, his feel. It was just her imagination playing wicked games on her. What if he were here? What if she could kiss him now, under these fireworks that began tearing the sky in color and light, yielding excited cries from spectators?
What if he was waiting on her porch like he had done in the past, or making his way toward her from among the crowd and he would lift her and swirl her around like in the movies?
But life wasn’t a movie.
A text lit up her screen when she reached her street.
“He will hear about it from his lawyer,” Avery wrote.
Her heart halted, and then her legs did. “What do you mean?”
“I love my son more than I hate you.”
She was about to type a reply when another message came in.
“Don’t compliment yourself, by the way. I don’t hate you. I’m indifferent to you. That’s why I’m texting you. You can have him and choke on him, too.”
She knew the pattern. Avery finally did the right thing, but now she was baiting her so she could blame her later.
“Happy New Year, Avery,” she texted.
When no reply came, she texted Finn and tried to call, but he didn’t pick up.
Instead of going home, she crossed town again to get to her car that she had left behind the bakery. The streets were even more condensed now, but the music, and light, and the happy faces she passed by found an echo inside her.
It took her almost an hour to get out of Riviera View. Ocean Avenue was closed for traffic, and the beach promenade was congested. A torchlight parade made its way down to the beach.
The highway was relatively empty. Anne drove along the coastline. It was a dryer, warmer December. The scattered raindrops on her windshield were like tears. Happy ones, she hoped. The wipers drove them away but they kept falling.
Blueshore seemed sleepy in comparison to Riviera View. Lights and music spilled from houses and into the otherwise quiet streets, and the town center didn’t seem as busy.
Withguarded hope in her heart, she parked outside his house. The drizzle of rain stopped.
