Something Borrowed

by Holly Jacobs

  “What did Abbey mean about Bridget’s lotion?” He was hoping that Mattie would be able to honor their truce. The kids needed to get used to him. It would make the transition easier when he won custody.

  Mattie headed for the kitchen, talking as she went, obviously trusting that he’d follow. “Abbey misses Bridget and wants the lotion so she’ll smell like her mother. They say that scent triggers strong memories.”

  She cleared breakfast dishes off the table and carried them toward the sink.

  Not knowing what else to do, Finn grabbed a couple of cereal bowls and handed them to her. “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “Her mother’s only been gone a month.” The hitch in Mattie’s voice did little to hide how hurt she was. Likely as hurt as he was, in fact. She continued to rinse dishes and stack them in the dishwasher with a practiced hand. “I think the children should find comfort wherever they can.”

  Her response was terse and Finn couldn’t blame her. If their roles were reversed, he couldn’t imagine even letting her into the house. He would never understand Mathilda Keith. When they were kids, she always zigged when he thought she should have zagged. He might have been content to let her brothers worry over her antics, but she dragged Bridget along with her when she zigged, so he worried, too. As had his parents.

  Mattie had lived her adult life on the road, going from one thing to the next without a care in the world. And he’d offered her a chance to go back to that life, with no strings or guilt...and she’d turned him down.

  No, he still didn’t understand her, or know how to deal with Mathilda Keith. And he also didn’t know how to deal with the children’s grief. Finn wasn’t accustomed to feeling unsure. He hated being lost and helpless.

  As a doctor, Finn dealt with illness, injury and death every day, and as a surgeon he coped by cutting something out, or stitching something back together. He had no idea how to deal with the emotional needs of three kids. Medical students were taught to avoid deep emotional connections with their patients, and it was a lesson he’d learned well.

  Maybe too well.

  Wanting to leave the topic of his nieces’ and nephew’s pain and loss, he asked, “What are you doing with the kids during the engagement party?”

  “They’re coming.” She shot him a duh sort of look that made him feel as if all his years of college, then medical school held no weight at all.

  “Colton and Sophie want the whole of Valley Ridge there,” she continued. “That’s why they’re doing a buffet in his barn. Everyone can fit. Colton’s borrowed a bunch of heaters, so we shouldn’t freeze. It’s potluck, so after we shop today, I need to cook.”

  “I don’t have access to the kitchen at JoAnn’s. Maybe I could go shopping with you all and come back and cook here with you? I want the children to become accustomed to me. It will make...” He had started to say it will make the transition easier when I win custody, but stopped himself. He didn’t want to remind Mattie of the lawsuit. They were going to have to spend time together. It would be best to make that time go by as easily as possible.

  Although, given Mattie’s expression—one that was a cross between someone who had swallowed a bug and someone who had taken a very bad-tasting medicine—his self-restraint wasn’t really helping. Would Mattie say yes? As a matter of fact, he was pretty sure that if she could come up with some reason to say no, she’d jump at it. He wouldn’t blame her.

  She was quiet for a moment, maybe thinking of some way to get out of letting him tag along, but obviously she couldn’t come up with anything because she sighed and said, “We can make that work. The kids will love spending time with you.”

  Finn snorted, knowing spending time with him wasn’t high on the kids’ wish list. It was his fault. He’d never been around them much. He tried to tell himself that it was his demanding career, but he wasn’t sure that was it. He didn’t know why he’d cut himself off from Bridget and the kids. Since his parents passed away, they were all the family he had left. He realized he didn’t understand himself any better than he understood Mattie, but he didn’t have the time or energy to figure either of them out today. He nodded. “The kids need to spend time with me, to get used to me.”

  From Mattie’s expression she understood his urgency in helping the children adjust to him.

  Bridget hadn’t thought he’d be able to help her children—to be there for them. That’s why she’d left custody of the kids to Mattie. It rankled that his sister thought Mattie was a better choice as the person to raise her children than he was. But no matter what Mattie said, he wasn’t suing for custody because he didn’t like losing. He truly thought he could be the better guardian. He couldn’t give his sister’s children their mother back, but he could offer them a better life.

  Mattie glanced up from the dish she was cleaning. She seemed to be able to see right through him. And now it appeared she wasn’t buying his idea of being around the kids for their benefit, but merely as a ploy for him to strengthen his case. And he felt small, admitting to himself that was part of the reason. But only part.

  He waited for Mattie to say something, and when she didn’t, he said, “No matter what you think, I care about the kids. I know you think you’re the best guardian. You don’t have to say it. My sister said it for you.” When Bridget had talked to him about what she wanted for the kids after she died, he’d hardly registered her words. He was still convinced that somehow she’d beat the odds. He knew as a doctor he should have been able to accept the facts, but this was Bridget—not simply some patient.

  This was his sister, an amazing woman. If anyone could fight and get better, she could.

  But in the end, she couldn’t.

  And though she’d told him she thought the kids should stay here in their home in Valley Ridge, he hadn’t put that together with Mattie having custody.

  When he’d heard the lawyer read his sister’s will, he’d been in shock. Mattie Keith their guardian? He was Bridget’s brother. Mattie was her friend. Just a friend.

  He was a surgeon at a prestigious hospital. Mattie was a flighty jack-of-all-trades.

  “Finn, I said it at Bridget’s funeral, and I’ll say it again now—you are the kids’ uncle and you’re always welcome here. You can spend as much time with them as you like. I love them enough not to let your lawsuit get in the way of your relationship with them. They need you. But they need me, too. I hope you realize it before it’s too late.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that, so he settled on “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that offer and spend the day with them.”

  She sighed again. He wondered if she sighed as much around other people as she did around him. He somehow doubted it.

  Mattie went back to the dishes. “First we have to finish our Saturday morning pickup. Why don’t you run the Dyson?”

  There was nothing to say to that, so Finn left Mattie finishing the dishes, and went to the hall closet to get the vacuum.

  He’d bought the thing for Bridget two Christmases ago. He’d teased her that most women didn’t want household appliances as gifts. She’d simply laughed and told him the Dyson wasn’t an appliance...it was a miracle. After that, she always referred to vacuuming as Dysoning.

  Memories.

  This whole house was full of memories. Little bits of his family. He could put them aside when he was in Buffalo, but when he came home to Valley Ridge, the memories overwhelmed him.

  There were simply too many.

  Maybe that’s why he hadn’t come back sooner. Maybe that’s why it was best for the kids to move to Buffalo with him. They’d forget their grief sooner if they didn’t have to face the memories every day.

  CHAPTER TWO

  MATTIE PASTED A SMILE on her face as she ignored the anger that coursed through her like waves on the ocean—coming in and fading back, but never really leaving her. She tried to forget that Finn was suing her as she attempted to engage the kids in conversation.

 
But her attempt fell flat. No one was talking. And try as she might, she couldn’t forget that the man spending the day with them was taking her to court.

  They made short work of their lunch, almost in complete silence.

  Normally she enjoyed Saturday lunches at the Valley Ridge Diner. It wasn’t the most inspired name, but the owner, Hank, was a character. He had a crustiness that he used to cover his sweetness. At least, he thought he covered how sweet he was, but in reality he didn’t manage it quite so well. No one in town had the heart to tell him they weren’t buying it.

  Bridget’s nurse, and Mattie’s new friend, Lily, had become very close to Hank. She rented a small apartment at the back of his house when she’d come to Valley Ridge. If someone didn’t know better, they’d assume Hank and Lily were relatives—they were that close.

  The Valley Ridge Diner had a Happy Days decor—Formica tabletops and a jukebox in the corner—that added a happy, innocent ambience that only seemed to make the food taste better. Unfortunately, the atmosphere wasn’t enough to counter Finn’s black-cloud presence. He was like a giant dose of melancholy hanging over the red vinyl seats.

  “Bye, Hank,” she called after she’d paid the check. Finn tried, but she’d beaten him to it. She wasn’t taking handouts from him.

  Ever.

  “Goodbye, Juliette,” Hank called back. Most days she’d have taken being called Juliette as a sweet compliment, but today, she felt as if she’d bitten the poison apple and was waiting for the effects to kick in. She could hardly muster a smile. No wait, a poison apple was Snow White.

  She was so out of sorts because of Finn Wallace that she couldn’t even manage to get her analogies right.

  The entire group walked quietly through the grocery store, then loaded her cheery yellow reusable bags into the car before heading down the business-lined sidewalk to the pharmacy.

  On the shores of Lake Erie, Valley Ridge, New York, was a small picturesque town just east of Pennsylvania. It was a throwback to an almost-forgotten era. There were malls within driving distance, but the biggest store inside the town limits was MarVee’s Quarters. Marilee and Vivienne had renamed the old Five and Dime when they’d purchased it, saying that Quarters was more apropos than Five and Dime, given inflation. Mattie almost smiled as she noted the sign, but Finn was in her peripheral vision, so her smile never actually materialized.

  Valley Ridge had some quirky residents, but for the most part it was simply populated by good, simple people. Valley Ridge was at the center of a large farming community. Not only farms and dairies. The entire southern shore of the lake was the second-biggest grape-growing region in the United States. The lake’s vast body of water helped moderate the temperature along the lakeshore, creating ideal growing conditions for grapes.

  Colton—Sophie’s husband-to-be—grew grapes on his farm and had opened a small winery a few years back. He loved to rhapsodize about how ideal the area was for grapes and wine. It didn’t take much—if any—prompting to get him talking about how Valley Ridge was on the same latitude line as some of the best regions in France. Sophie always concurred, which wasn’t surprising as her day job was promoting the New York grape-growing region to tourists. That’s how Sophie had met Colton.

  Colton and Sophie.

  Sophie and Colton.

  It didn’t matter how you said their names, they fit together.

  They were a perfect couple. The kind of couple that gave people hope that maybe someday they’d find their own soul mate.

  The fact that Mattie had even thought the words soul mate embarrassed her. She wasn’t a romantic by any stretch of the imagination. She was a world adventurer.

  Was being the operative word. Now, she was a clipped-wings, mother-surrogate to her inherited family. Of course, if she simply gave in to Finn...

  She cut off the idea before it could fully form.

  She sighed at the thought.

  “Problems?” Finn asked softly, coming up beside her.

  “How could anyone have a problem in the midst of this happy-go-lucky little group?” she quipped loudly enough for everyone to hear.

  As if on cue, Mickey whined, “Can’t we go home, Aunt Mattie?”

  She tugged at his knit hat as she assured him, “This will only take a moment, Mick.”

  “This is boring,” Zoe chimed in. “Can’t me and Mick go back and sit in the car and wait for you there?” She flipped her shoulder-length blond hair over her shoulder, exposing the red streak that ran to the left of her center part.

  Mattie hadn’t played the guardian role long, but there was no way she was about to leave the kids in the car unattended even if this was Valley Ridge and not some huge urban center. She’d never asked Bridget at what age the kids were old enough to be on their own. But she knew that the age in question wasn’t eleven or eight. Trying to decide if they should walk the couple blocks from school on their own still gave her fits.

  What would Bridget do? she asked herself for the thousandth time.

  She didn’t have a clue, but since she didn’t want to fight, she simply ignored the question and said, “Come on, guys.”

  She glanced at Finn, hoping for some positive input—even if he was faking it—but he was quiet.

  They marched into the pharmacy, a parade of attitude, anxiety and anticipation. “This is our last stop, then we’ll go home. I’ve got to cook, and you guys are off duty until it’s time to clean up for Sophie and Colton’s party.”

  “It’s in a barn. How come we gotta be cleaned up to go to a party in a barn?” Zoe asked.

  Mattie knew this was another question designed to provoke a fight, because like her mother, Zoe loved getting all girlie. A new outfit was almost guaranteed to shake her out of any funk. Mattie had never understood Bridget’s love of fashion, nor did she understand Zoe’s. Mattie was so much more comfortable in jeans than in tulle. The fact that she was familiar with tulle was a testimony to her lifelong friendship with never-too-tired-to-dress-up Bridget Wallace Langley.

  Rather than indulge Zoe’s desire to argue, Mattie simply smiled and said, “Zoe, you always look great. If I could wear a pair of jeans and make them look as fashionable as you do, I wouldn’t want to change, either. If you want to go to Colton and Sophie’s party in that, you absolutely can. You’re old enough to wear what you like.”

  “Can I wear this?” Mickey asked.

  The freckle-faced eight-year-old had on his favorite pair of jeans, a Green Lantern T-shirt that fit him a few weeks ago, but was all of a sudden looking a bit small and sneakers that had been out in the mud one too many times.

  “Nope,” she said.

  “How come Zoe can wear that?” He bristled at Mattie’s apparent injustice.

  “I’m not wearing this, shrimpo,” his older sister said.

  “See, Mick, it’s all good,” Mattie assured him.

  Finn gave her a congratulatory look, and she nodded her head ever so slightly to acknowledge it. Most of the time she floundered with the kids, but every now and then, she managed to handle something perfectly. This was one of those moments. And there was a certain satisfaction that her small win had happened in front of Finn.

  They entered the small brick building that housed Burnam’s Pharmacy and waved at the pharmacists, Eric and Mike, at the back counter.

  “It’s down this aisle,” Mattie said.

  Abbey bolted down the aisle and found the bottle. “This one, right?”

  “Right,” Mattie confirmed.

  “Can I put it on now?” Abbey was already tugging the zipper of her coat down.

  Mattie reached down and pulled the zipper back into place. “No. It’s not ours until we’ve paid for it. But when we get home, you can use it.”

  “I’ll smell like Mommy for the party then. It’ll be like she’s huggin’ me all day.”

  “Mommy’s not gonna hug you ever again,” Zoe practically screamed. “She’s dead. Dead people don’t hug you.�
� The eleven-year-old bolted out of the pharmacy, and Abbey collapsed into an instant pool of tears, while Mickey stood next to her looking confused.

  Mattie hugged Abbey, while gesturing to Finn. He looked reluctant, but went down the aisle, trailing after Zoe.

  * * *

  FINN GLANCED BACK TO SEE Mattie and Abbey hugging and Mattie reaching for Mickey’s hand. The door was swinging closed as he got to the front of the store. “She went to the right,” one of the pharmacists told him and pointed, as if he didn’t know which direction right meant. The man was vaguely familiar, as were a lot of the folks in town. Valley Ridge was small enough that even though it was impossible to know everyone, it was easy to recognize most.

  Finn hurried down the block and spotted Zoe, turning a corner, heading over to the car, he hoped. “Zoe, stop,” he called.

  He turned the corner and she was waiting, her face streaked with tears. “I’m so sick of the two little kids talking like Mom’s on vacation or something. She’s dead. They need to understand that she’s not coming back. Not ever.”

  “They’re younger than you, Zoe, and they’re doing their best to understand. It’s only been a month.”

  “Yeah, but she was dying a long time before that.” There was a mature weariness in Zoe’s voice as she said the words. “And now she’s gone and she’s left us all alone.”

  Finn knelt and tried to imagine what his sister or Mattie would do, how they would handle Zoe, who was little more than a young child, yet had already suffered a very adult loss. He held his arms out to his niece, but rather than accepting his hug she took a step back. “Don’t pretend like you care. You’re only here because of Colton and Sophie and their stupid party tonight. You never liked us before Mom died, and I don’t think you like us now. We don’t need you,” she added, clearly wanting to be sure he got her point.

  Oh, he got it all right. He tried to defend himself by saying, “I was here as often as I could be,” but he knew as he said the words they were a lie. Every time he visited after Bridget had gotten sick, he’d felt so helpless and he hated that feeling. He saved people on a daily basis, but he couldn’t save his sister. That knowledge would haunt him for the rest of his life. He’d made excuses not to visit, and to assuage his guilt, he’d hired one of the most competent nurses he knew, Lily Paul. He’d sent Lily in his place to Valley Ridge to care for Bridget. And Mattie had been here. The two of them kept things under control. He wasn’t really needed.