by R. Holmes
West and Riley show up around mid-afternoon. For a moment Finn looks surprised to see them, then the relief of having his friends here soothes away some of the rigid tension in his shoulders.
“We’re here to lend a hand,” Riley says, giving me a half hug. “Word’s spreading around town and everyone’s going to do their part for y’all while Gramps recovers.”
“Come on bro, we’ve got this. Go rest up.” West puts a supportive hand on Finn’s shoulder. “We’ll take over for a little while.”
A lump forms in my throat. Finn has told me before how everyone in this town has each other’s back. He’s shown me first hand—that day I tagged along to give a hand with the favors he was returning. They all offer help and someone to lean on when things get rough.
Hollyridge is one big family.
“Thanks,” Finn says hoarsely. “You’re both—thank you.”
I take Finn’s hand, gently threading our fingers together. He casts a look at me. “Come on,” I murmur. “You can’t have gotten much sleep.”
After scrubbing his free hand over his exhausted features, he rumbles an incoherent response and follows. At the staircase, he takes the lead, pulling me behind him.
It occurs to me as we climb the steps this is the first time I’ve been to Finn’s bedroom. My heart gives a pang. I wish it were under better circumstances.
The room almost looks too small to fit Finn’s broad-shouldered frame in it, but it’s comfortable and cozy in a way I love.
Photos line one shelf along with sports trophies from little leagues and high school. One of him fishing with Gramps catches my eye. Finn is beaming while holding up his fish and Gramps looks so proud of him.
On the wood-framed bed, the covers are in disarray, like Finn got up in a hurry. My throat clogs and I rub my thumb on his hand.
Finn sinks to the bed with a heavy sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. His head hangs down. It feels natural to step into him, combing my fingers through his hair. A soft sound leaves him as I offer him this small comfort.
“I can’t…” He pauses to swallow, putting his palms on either side of my thighs. It feels like I’m the only thing grounding him right now. “I can’t lose him, Freya. He’s more than a father to me. He’s so much.”
It’s the first he’s spoken about it since the hospital. My throat burns.
“I know. And we won’t.” My voice cracks and I hug his head to my stomach, willing my words to be true. “We won’t. It’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s a strong man.”
A soft, broken laugh puffs out of Finn. He nods in agreement, nuzzling into my oversized sweater. My fingers run through his thick hair.
“Yeah.” Another rueful laugh leaves him. “Stubborn old man. He’ll escape his health problems by sheer force of will.”
Despite the rawness of Finn’s tone, it’s good to get him laughing. I’ll do anything to shift some of the immense weight sitting on his shoulders to help him carry it.
“Let’s lay down,” I suggest, nudging his shoulder. “We can nap if you want, or just rest.”
He puts up no resistance—a sign of just how much the last several hours have shaken him when he doesn’t attempt any of our usual banter—and lays back on his bed after kicking off his boots. He tugs me down with him once I remove my own shoes. Our legs tangle together and I wind my arms around him for a fierce hug. His spicy cedar cologne engulfs me and for a beat I feel like we’re in our bubble, snowed in from the world in the cabin. It makes me want to have moments like this with him forever.
I press my lips to his scruffy jaw, then settle my head on his shoulder, tucked close against his side.
“It kills me to see him in that hospital bed,” he rasps after a minute, voice strained with worry. The pain and fear slices into my heart, causing an ache to radiate from my chest. “He’s always been so strong—capable. When I was a kid I thought he was invincible. This year has been hell to see him struggling with managing his health. He wants to work. But his body isn’t cooperating. It’s not right to see him like that.”
Finn has held it together, for me and for Grams. He’s just as strong as his grandfather. A pillar to support those around him.
“It’s okay.” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You don’t have to hold anything back with me, Finn. I can be the one who holds us together for a little bit if you need me to.”
He bumps his forehead against mine and exhales, more tension bleeding from his posture. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you.” His arms cinch tighter around me. “But you fit just right.”
An affectionate smile tugs at my lips. I tilt my face up to seal my mouth over his in a sweet kiss that we sink into. His hand cups my face as his lips move against mine. With a sleepy sigh, he breaks the kiss to rest his head back on the pillow, stroking my arm.
“Are you tired?” I ask.
Finn takes a second to respond. “No. Yes.”
“Well, which is it?”
A laugh reverberates in his throat. “Yes. Exhausted as shit, but I can’t sleep. The doctor might call with an update on his test results.”
“Tell me about him? I like hearing your stories about your family.”
After taking a minute to consider where to start, Finn’s body shakes with amusement. “He’s always been Mr. Fix It. Anything broken? Gramps had it covered. He knows how everything works.” He shakes his head, his scruff tickling my forehead. “I idolized him for it. So he’s out working on the truck he used to have, changing the oil, I think.”
“That’s amazing he knows how to do so much.”
Finn hums in agreement. As he tells the story, he relaxes some more. “So out I come—can’t have been more than nine or ten—with his big toolbox I could barely lift and one of his hats sitting so low on my head I’m surprised I could see anything.”
I giggle at the adorable mental image. “You wanted to be just like him. His little helper.”
“Yep. So I park the toolbox next to the wheel and scramble up on it to see. And he pretended it was a bigger job than it was, guiding me through all these things we had to fix to make the engine run. He had me starting the ignition and topping off fluids—all he did was disconnect the battery. We were out there for a couple hours, until the sun was dipping behind the mountains and Grams was calling us in for dinner.” I can hear the smile and fond warmth in his voice. “But he told her I was fixing the truck, so we’d be in soon.”
“He sounds like an amazing father,” I murmur. “You’re lucky.”
“Yeah,” he says, angling his head to study me.
Not wanting to get swept up in the feelings of inadequacy creeping in on me when I think of my own Dad in comparison, I prop up on my elbows to kiss Finn again. He cups the back of my head, drawing me closer.
My back pocket vibrates, interrupting us.
Finn lifts his thick brows with a wry expression. “Your ass is ringing, babe.”
I pull my lips to the side. “Sorry. Hold that thought.”
He allows me to sit up and I pull out my phone. When I see the caller ID, I stiffen. Dad.
Before I answer, Finn’s phone goes off. He fishes it out and chokes back a strained noise as he scoots to the edge of the bed.
“It’s the hospital,” he says gruffly. He answers, putting the phone to his ear. “Hello? Yes.”
I hurry to press ignore on my phone and pull up a text message. I tell Dad that I’ll call him back while listening to Finn’s half of the conversation with the hospital. Dad can wait, whatever the doctors have to say is more important right now. Finn swings his gaze to me, rubbing his jaw.
“The test results are in,” he whispers to me. His attention returns to the phone. “Okay. Yes.” A line of worry creases his forehead. “And what does that mean for his treatment?” After another pause, he asks, “When can he come home?”
I return to the bed, sitting beside him. My fingers dig into the blankets as I wait for him to finish. Once he hangs up, his expression is grim.
Finn sighs and drags a hand through his hair. “It’s not great, but not the worst case scenario they feared.” He blows out a relieved sigh. “He doesn’t need open heart surgery.”
“Thank god,” I breathe. “So he’ll be okay?”
“He’s not out of the woods yet, but they’ll start treatment today. They couldn’t give any concrete answers for when they’ll discharge him, but if they see improvement he’ll be able to leave the hospital.”
My shoulders sag. “I’m so glad. Now that they know his condition, they’ll be able to help him.”
“Yeah.” Finn scrubs his face and pushes out another breath.
I suspect he’s holding back his emotions again. His eyes are shiny. I give him a hug that he sinks into.
On the nightstand, my phone starts making a racket again. I pull back with a frustrated breath.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this.” If I don’t, Dad will only be angrier I ignored him.
Finn holds up his phone. “It’s okay. I’m gonna text West with the update and I should see if Grams needs anything.”
Tapping my thumb on my screen, I lift the phone to my ear. “Hey, how are—?”
“Freya,” Dad barks.
I don’t know why I bothered with pleasantries. Silly me.
“What’s up, Dad?”
Finn pauses across the room, slowly turning to watch me.
“First of all, do not ignore my calls or you’ll be fired.” His voice is clearer than it’s been, so I guess he’s feeling better. That also means he’s back to being a cutthroat businessman, the king of his empire. “The investors and I will be making a trip out there. We’ll arrive on the twentieth for an in-person assessment of the property.”
My stomach drops. That’s only a little over a week away, and the same day as the final challenge for the Jingle Wars competition.
It’s such short notice, I won’t have any time to put something special together to show off my hard work and present my ideas about the future of Anderson resorts. Not just my ideas, but my staff’s, too.
We’ve grown as a team, working together to take the Alpine into a more modern approach to seamlessly blend with options like Airbnb and partner with local existing small businesses—ones like Mayberry Inn—to create a more organic and authentic local experience for vacationers. All things that could make a community thrive as one, rather than competing against one another.
A principle my father has never cared about as he crushed small businesses to build up his kingdom of luxury.
“Um, Dad, I don’t think—” Blinking away the shock and ignoring the spike of anxiety, I shoot Finn a look. His expression is lined with frustration, his jaw clenched. A muscle in his cheek jumps. I return my focus to the call. “Things are sort of crazy right now. If you could push the trip back a week—”
“No. I didn’t have to give you any advance notice. Be grateful for that.”
With that, he hangs up. My heart races, my pulse thrumming in my neck. A different kind of dread drops like sludge in my gut. I have a bad feeling about Dad coming to Hollyridge, poisoning this picturesque town with his selfishness.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, facing Finn. More and more, talking to Dad leaves me feeling like shit. Embarrassment heats my cheeks knowing Finn could probably hear most of the call with how loud Dad talks. “He’s, um…”
“What did he want?” He looks ready to punch something on my behalf.
“He’s coming to Hollyridge. His team of investors want to assess the Alpine under my management.”
Finn’s jaw works. “When’s this?”
“Next week.” I close my eyes and press my fingers into the sockets to stave off a sharp twinge of pain in my head. A stress migraine is setting in quickly. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t like what he finds when he’s here in person. He hasn’t been thrilled with the weekly reports I email him.”
“Fuck him,” he mutters. “You shouldn’t listen to him, Freya. Any man who treats his daughter the way he’s treated you is worthless.”
“He’s not just my father, he’s my boss, too. It’s his company.”
He makes a dismissive sound.
Worrying my lip with my teeth, I put my shoes back on and tuck my phone in my back pocket. I don’t have much else to gather.
Finn grasps my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “You’re just going to go? To make your dad happy? That asshole can fu—” He cuts off with a grumble. The hard lines in his face soften and he pulls me into his chest. “Don’t go yet.”
Leaving is the last thing I want to do. I bury my fingers in his hoodie and peer up at him pleadingly, hoping he understands why. “I have to.”
His throat bobs with his swallow. He takes my chin between his thumb and finger.
When he speaks, his voice is gruff. “But I need you…”
An ache of regret pierces through me. I reach up to cup his cheek. Finn and I have come so far. Even though we haven’t been together long, I can’t imagine not having him in my life if this assessment doesn’t go well.
“I know. I need you, too,” I whisper. “I promise, I’ll come back as soon as I can. I just have to do some work to prepare for Dad’s arrival, then I’m all yours. Whatever you and Grams and Gramps need, I’ll be here for all of you, okay?”
Another rumbling sound catches in Finn’s throat as I press closer. He crushes me against him and steals my lips for a bittersweet kiss. When it ends, we remain a hair’s breadth apart.
Urgent confessions clog my throat. Things I want to tell him. One important thing in particular that makes my heart thump, but I hold it back. It’s not like I’ll never see him again, I’m just being ridiculous and dramatic.
As I leave, I pause in the door. “If there are any more updates, let me know, okay?”
“Yeah.” Finn looks like it’s killing him to watch me go.
It’s killing me, too.
"Finn!" Gramps calls for me from his spot in the recliner in the family room.
It's been a week since he's been home from the hospital and he has made the recliner his permanent spot. Per Grams and my orders, of course. At first, we had to threaten him with no sweets ever again if he got up out of the chair without either of us. It's too much on his heart to get up and down, and by the time he tries he's out of breath.
This morning he tried his best to get up and follow me around while I was painting baseboards, but I quickly cut that out. Grumbling and huffing, he headed back to his chair and put on Santa Clause for the rest of the morning.
Grams gave him a bell to ring when he needed us, so he wouldn't have to strain himself calling for us. We see how much good that did, because he forgets about the bell half the time and calls for us anyway.
"Gramps, ring. The. Bell. That's why we gave it to you, so you won't have to call for us." I ring the damn thing to get my point across.
He huffs. "Finn, I don't need a bell. I'm still perfectly capable of talkin' you know."
Gramps being confined to his recliner, unable to do anything makes him the equivalent of a petulant child. He's not happy, needless to say. He feels helpless and although I can't blame him for how he feels...he's got to do it. The doctor has him on a strict diet regimen to keep his heart as healthy as possible. The tests and scans revealed the extent of his blockage, and now he’s on four different medications and has been told to cut back on the hot cocoa, much to his disappointment.
"You and Grams keep fussin' over me and I'm fine I tell ya." Still grumbling, he rests his head against the back of the recliner. A few minutes later he's fast asleep, snoring lightly.
"That man." Grams walks into the living room and over to Gramps, pulling the fuzzy Christmas blanket he's covered up with, up to his chest.
"Tell me about it. I'd rather him be here arguing with me at every turn than not being here, Grams."
"I know Finn, but if we don't stay on top of him he'll just end up back in that darn hospital, worse
off than the last time. That's how your Gramps is. Been that way since we were kids. He puts everything before himself. The most selfless man I know, to the point where his heart is giving out and he's still worried about painting baseboards with you."
I nod. She's right, and I know that.
"Speaking of you putting in work... Are you ready for the competition?” She asks over her shoulder as we walk into the kitchen where she's baking a few pies for the homeless shelter. “It's in just a few days."
"I guess. I don't know how I'll be able to focus on anything. I'm too worried about Gramps."
Grams puts her rolling pin down on the counter and walks over to where I'm leaning against the island. Her small hands find my face and she gives me a look before speaking. "You are a good man, Finn. So much like your Gramps. He raised you that way, to be so much like him. Even though you don't see it, you are. I see it in everything that you do. He's so proud of you. What he wants more than anything is to see you be happy. You know that right?"
I nod. I do know that.
"And you know that even if you don't win this competition, he will still be as proud of you as ever and love you more than you know. Both of us will. You know money isn't everything. Family is. Love is. Because when you're six feet under, none of that money will bring you any comfort."
"I know Grams." I flash her a charming smile.
"You go to that competition and you kick some ass." My eyes widen at her cursing. "You can do it. You know... I heard from the grapevine."
Grapevine means her Pokeno group, and why she doesn't just say that I don't know, because we both know it.
"The third competition is going to be a baking competition. Gladys heard it from one of her employees who knows someone on the judging board."
Baking? Fuck.
"Grams, I haven't baked shit in my entire life. How am I going to win that competition?" I ask exasperatedly.
"Finn. Language."