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She laughed again. Couldn’t help herself. “I suppose you’re right about that.” She half expected to be disqualified for taking a man’s life—even if it was self-defense. Politics was a strange animal.
When the song ended, Finley and Matt clapped and hooted their approval. Jack, Louise, and Maureen hurried out of the room. Finley watched the three scurry away and wondered what they were up to. As soon as she and Matt had arrived, Maureen and Louise had announced they were banding together to serve as Finley’s campaign management team. Louise pointed out that based on the ads Briggs was running, Finley needed serious help. Maureen had agreed, though her work would be more behind the scenes since the paper had to remain neutral on politics. Basically good but slightly overwhelming news. Finley had hoped to put off the big decisions until after the holidays. No such luck with those two—three, counting Jack—putting their heads together.
“That’s not suspicious at all,” she whispered to Matt about the threesome’s exit.
“I learned a long time ago,” he said sagely, “that with Jack, you have to expect the unexpected. To have women following him is no surprise either.”
Another laugh burst out of Finley. She couldn’t remember when she had laughed so much. Matt’s words were absolutely true.
Speaking of unexpected, Finley was happy for Ian Johnson. He’d dropped by the office yesterday and asked that Jack help him with developing a plan for the family money. Obviously, the JohnsonDevelopment Group assets were frozen until the criminal cases were done. But, like the PI, Jerry Bauer, had said, the old man was smarter than anyone knew. He’d set up a personal account in Ian’s name the year he was born and had been stashing money there ever since. Ian wanted to use that money to start a victim’s advocacy organization. In particular he wanted to focus on young people and kids. It was an amazing idea, and Finley was very proud of him. He deserved the opportunity for a happy and purposeful life.
Matt’s folks, the Judge, and Finley’s father joined them near the fireplace. “Just so you know,” the Judge said, drawing Finley’s attention from her pleasant thoughts, “you and Matt are up next.”
Finley scoffed. “I think you’ve forgotten how awful my singing voice is, Mom.”
The Judge blinked; then a smile spread across her face.
Finley frowned, then realized why the Judge was smiling, and she smiled too. She had just called the JudgeMom. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that. Things, Finley mused, they were changing.
“It’s coming back to me now,” her mother said, still smiling despite remembering that her only child could not carry a tune in a bucket.
Bart laughed. “We always knew you had other skills, sweetie.”
Matt turned up his glass as if to say he had nothing in this. Finley didn’t blame him.
“Matt has quite a nice baritone,” his mother, Eleanor, pointed out.
“Takes after his father,” Martin, Matt’s father, agreed.
Matt cleared his throat. “You two aren’t exactly unbiased.”
A bell rang. Finley jumped in spite of herself. The sneaky threesome returned to the parlor. Louise set the silver bell she’d used to get their attention on the nearest table and called out, “Listen up, everyone.”
Matt leaned closer to Finley and whispered in her ear. “Saved by the bell.”
Finley pressed her fingers to her lips to prevent laughing out loud at his gratitude for not having to sing.
“Here we go,” Jack announced. He carried a tray filled with champagne flutes and a bottle of bubbly as well as a bottle of water. “Come on, now. Everyone gather around.”
He placed the tray on the coffee table, scooting the other one aside. Maureen grabbed the champagne and popped the cork. Bubbles flowed from the bottle as she quickly started to fill the flutes.
Apparently one of the three had an announcement. She looked to Matt, and he shrugged. The Judge and Finley’s father did the same. Finley supposed she’d just have to wait it out.
Louise and Jack passed around the dainty flutes. He grabbed the last one and filled it with water just as Louise raised hers for a toast.
“To Finley. May ...” Her voice cracked, and she had to take a moment. “May the future bring her all that she so well deserves and,” she tacked on, “allow all of us along for the journey.”
Hear-hears floated around the room.
Finley gave a nod and then drank deeply of the sweet bubbly.
She was so ready for what came next.
But it was this moment—these people—that really mattered. She intended to relish every step of their journey together.
