Something Borrowed

by Holly Jacobs

  “How much did you leave her?” Zoe asked.

  Mattie smiled at the memory. “Three dollars and two cents...in change.”

  “No one let on that they’d known where we were until we were in our teens. We’d thought we’d pulled something over on them. And might I add that if you ever feel you need to run away, you have my permission to run...as far as Mrs. Rose’s. But no farther. Though, if you feel so bad that running away seems like an option, I’d rather you come talk to me...” She looked at Finn, who’d started this whole storytelling moment, and added, “Or your uncle. If you’re that upset, we’d try to help you fix whatever was bothering you.”

  “Yeah, if Mickey ate my cookies, I’d be mad. But he don’t know all my hiding places. Not my best, most secret one.” Abbey shot her brother a smug-sister look that Mattie recognized because she’d sent a similar look to her brothers more than once.

  “Bet I can find it,” Mickey hollered and took off toward the stairs.

  “There’s no time for that this morning. Go change your pants for church, Mick, or we’ll be late.” More screaming ensued, but Mattie ignored it, turned to Finn and asked, “Are you coming with us?”

  Finn smiled and nodded. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Of course he wouldn’t.

  Mattie glanced one more time at her still-unread paper. She should probably cancel her subscription, but she wouldn’t. Having the paper delivered seemed like a bit of optimism, as if she believed things would calm down enough that she’d read again.

  She glanced at Finn, who appeared supremely pleased with himself.

  And right now she could use all the optimism she could get.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FINN WONDERED WHY he’d invited himself along to the Keiths’ house. Ever since he’d spoken to Rich this morning he’d felt...guilty.

  That was odd because he knew his decision was for the best.

  The best for everyone.

  He made difficult decisions on a daily basis. That was part of a surgeon’s job description. He didn’t understand why he felt bad about this one.

  He’d sat by Mattie and the kids at church, then asked them to stop at JoAnn Rose’s B and B before heading to her parents’ house. The Keiths’ home was only a few blocks from where he’d grown up. He often traveled the short distance, taking Bridget to the Keiths’, or picking her up.

  Once, when his mom and dad went to a family wedding in Wisconsin, he and Bridget had stayed at the Keiths’. He’d maintained that at fifteen, he was old enough to stay at his house alone, but his mother disagreed.

  He’d been truly awful, if he recalled correctly. He thought he was way too cool to hang out with his twelve-year-old sister, her friend and her friend’s even younger brothers. He suspected he’d worn his attitude on his sleeve, but Mattie’s parents had never commented on it.

  So many memories were here in Valley Ridge, even at his sister’s best friend’s house.

  Mattie opened the door and the kids pushed past him, calling out, “Ray and Rich?” as they burst into the house and started searching for Mattie’s brothers.

  Their excitement was evident, and Finn felt unexpectedly jealous. The kids had never been that excited to see him.

  “Video games, remember?” Mattie said, as if she’d known what he was thinking.

  Before he could respond, Mattie’s mother swept into the room. Mrs. Keith hadn’t changed at all since they were kids. The fact that Mattie was adopted was well-known in town. But she was in every way a part of the Keith family, except for the fact that she didn’t look like her mom or the rest of her family. She fit here. He could see her unwind in a way he’d yet to notice anywhere else.

  “Finn Wallace, it’s good to have you back in our home,” Mrs. Keith said. “Welcome.”

  He extended a bottle of wine. “It’s from Colton’s,” he said.

  “Now, Finn, you didn’t have to bring anything.” She gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat,” Mrs. Keith suggested.

  He’d always liked the Keiths’ house. It had been built in the same era as the house he’d grown up in—sometime in the early twentieth century. In the front was a huge living area that opened into a dining room, which then connected to a kitchen separated only by a large island with bar stools lining it.

  The afternoon was a blur of noise, good food, family and friends.

  And though the Keiths tried to include Finn, he still felt out of place. When he offered to help, he was told to sit and relax, which was hard to do as he watched everyone else work together. Mattie set the table without asking or being asked. Her brothers brought out serving dishes at their mother’s direction.

  They sat down to eat, and the family talked to each other and over each other as they shared various stories from the past week. Afterward, they all cleared the table with the same synchronization that easily made him feel in the way.

  He did manage to carry a few things to the sink, but ended up relegated to the couch. The kids had disappeared again with Rich and Ray as they had indeed talked Mattie into bonus video game time.

  Rich wasn’t gone long. He came up and claimed the spot next to Finn. “I lost Guitar Hero,” he said woefully.

  “Lost it tragically,” Ray said as he joined them, grinning.

  “I think you and Mattie need to consider getting the kids real lessons,” Rich added. “They’re really good.”

  “And getting better,” Ray chimed in.

  Finn felt uncomfortable when he noticed that Rich talked as if he and Mattie were a team when it came to the kids. “I’ll make sure I ask her about it. I’m not sure how she’ll feel. If they have lessons, they’ll have to practice. Loudly and often. Mattie should have the final word on that.”

  “Do you remember when Mattie and Bridget joined the school band?” Ray asked.

  “Trumpet and the tuba,” Rich said.

  Finn shook his head. “Nothing could be heard over those practice sessions.” Even his mom had suggested that Bridget go and practice at Mattie’s on more than one occasion. “I don’t think I was ever so glad as the night Bridget announced they were quitting band and trying out for the cheerleading squad. I thought it would be better.”

  “I never imagined V. R. H. S. We are the very best,” Rich said in a high voice, “could be worse than trumpet and tuba duets, but it was.”

  Finn cracked up. “You’re right—it was.”

  “Maybe even worse,” Ray said. “Mattie’s supposed cartwheel gave me a black eye.”

  “What’s going on?” Mattie asked as she approached the men suspiciously. “You boys look way too amused.”

  “We were reminiscing,” Rich said innocently.

  Mattie shot them all a sweeping look. “About?”

  Finn looked at Rich, who looked at Ray. As if they’d timed it, they stood. “V.R.H.S. We are the very best. V.R.H.S. Better than all the rest.” Their clapping was not even close to being in unison, but Finn thought that was what made their performance so utterly perfect.

  The entire Keith clan was watching the show, including his nieces and nephew. Even Zoe was laughing. “What was that?” she asked.

  “That was our reenactment of the time your mom and Aunt Mattie were cheerleaders.”

  “You were a cheerleader?” Zoe’s tone was incredulous.

  Mattie nodded. “But it didn’t last. Your mom and I joined the marching band, but neither of us were very good, so we tried cheering and—”

  “They were even worse,” Rich said.

  “You can say that again,” Ray teased. “Worse than worse.”

  “The girls weren’t that bad,” Mrs. Keith said staunchly, though Finn thought he saw a glint of humor in her eye.

  Obviously Ray saw it as well because he tsked his mother, brushing one forefinger against the other. “Mom, lying in front of your kids...I’m ashamed.”

  “I said that bad,” Mrs. Keith repeated. “I didn’t say they weren’t
bad at all. But I’m sure there were worse things than their cheering.”

  “Like what?” Rich asked.

  “Gerry, help me,” she pleaded with her husband.

  Mr. Keith laughed, his hands resting on his potbelly. “You dug the hole, dear.”

  “Mom, come on,” Mattie encouraged. “There had to be something worse than our cheering.”

  Suddenly, Mrs. Keith’s face lit up. “Yes, sweetie, there was. That time all three of you got the chicken pox. I don’t think I would have survived having to say don’t scratch that one more time. And let’s not even start on how many oatmeal baths I gave you.”

  “Really, Mom, that’s the best you can do?” Mattie asked. “Chicken pox? The only thing worse than our cheering was chicken pox?”

  Mrs. Keith kissed Mattie’s cheek. “Sorry, dear.”

  “Aunt Mattie, you do a cheer,” Abbey begged.

  Mattie shook her head, her blond hair flying back and forth across her shoulders. “No way.”

  The kids hounded her, and then her brothers got in on it, too, and Finn simply sat back and watched the scene with a wistful feeling. There had been a time when his family had gathered and laughed together.

  His family hadn’t been nearly as boisterous as Mattie’s. Looking back, he, his parents and Bridget were all basically nerds. The four of them were more apt to spend a Sunday afternoon quietly reading books than teasing each other. But they’d done it together. To be honest, the most noise that emanated from their Sunday dinners might be a rousing debate. His mother and father had loved taking opposing viewpoints on a topic and arguing it into the ground. Pretty much any current subject would do.

  He’d once remarked that he wasn’t sure how they managed to stay married when they never agreed on anything, and later, his mother had pulled him aside and admitted that she frequently took the opposite side to his father’s because it made for a more interesting conversation.

  Later, his father had confessed the same thing.

  Which made Finn wonder if they truly knew where either stood on any issue, but it also made him realize how well-suited they were for each other.

  He missed his parents so badly sometimes he ached with it. He’d pick up the phone to tell them some news, and soon remembered the car accident. Would Bridget’s loss have the same effect on him once some time had passed? Probably.

  Maybe that’s why he’d come home less frequently after his parents died. He and Bridget couldn’t recapture this feeling of family...of completeness.

  Watching the five Keiths talking—they radiated complete.

  That was the perfect word to describe them.

  After his parents had died, he and Bridget had been broken. Then she’d formed a family unit with her kids and he felt left out. Not a true part of it.

  Could he really form another family unit—just him and the kids? All of a sudden, it seemed too much, too daunting even for him.

  He realized that Zoe, Mickey and Abbey were joining in with the Keiths, that they seemed to feel at home. He felt a new wave of guilt.

  If he left them here, they’d have this...a big, boisterous family to spend time with, to help care for them.

  Filing papers saying he wanted to be the kids’ guardian was easy when he’d been in Buffalo.

  Now, tiny doubts crept in.

  But try as he might, he couldn’t imagine walking away from his nieces and nephew.

  He’d let down Bridget when she’d been sick.

  Hell, if he was honest, he’d let her down before that, and now it was too late to fix things with her. But he could fix things with her children.

  He looked at them.

  Not only could he fix things with them, he would.

  And he’d give them the best life possible.

  In Buffalo.

  * * *

  MATTIE WAS QUIET ON their way back to the house.

  Zoe, Mickey and Abbey made a break for their rooms as soon as the front door was open. She knew that they enjoyed her parents and her brothers, who were essentially giant kids themselves. But for them, after years of being with just their mom, her family’s Sunday dinners were a bit...not just a bit, but a lot more than they were used to.

  She glanced at Finn and wished he’d disappear, as well. But he wasn’t saying goodbye or moving toward his car.

  “So, were you coming in, or leaving for Buffalo?” she asked, praying he’d take the hint and leave for the city.

  “Since the kids are upstairs, maybe we could talk.”

  Mattie sighed. She should have known better than counting on Finn to do what she wanted.

  “If it’s about the kids specifically, sure. If it’s about Colton and Sophie’s wedding, I’m in. If you want to talk about the fact you’re suing me? No thanks. You brought the lawyers into this, so we’ll let the lawyers handle it.”

  “How are you going to afford a lawyer?” he asked as if it was the first time he’d thought of it.

  It probably was the first time he’d thought of it. Finn’s family wasn’t rich, but they’d always been comfortably set. His father used to own a plastics plant outside town. When their parents died, Bridget and Finn sold the plant, and she’d lived off the proceeds.

  Her father had worked at the plant. He’d kept the books there for many years and provided a decent life for his family, although not to the same degree as the Wallaces.

  “I don’t think that’s for you to worry about. I’ve got money set aside.” Money that she’d saved over all those years from all those jobs. It wasn’t much, but she’d put it aside painstakingly so that when she did find her dream, she’d have money to invest in it. School. A business. Some career. She still wasn’t sure.

  Now her brother Rich was an entrepreneur. The family had known that ever since he opened his first lemonade stand when he was seven. Ray was...well, it might be tempting to say politician, because as the mayor, that designation fit. But at heart, he was a public servant. He was someone who always strived to improve their community.

  She studied Finn. He was a doctor. A surgeon. Someone who saved lives on a regular basis.

  At twenty-nine, Mattie was no closer to discovering her dream. It was a bit discouraging sometimes. And now she’d have to fight tooth and nail for Bridget’s dream—for keeping her friend’s children here in their home. “I’m making calls tomorrow,” she told Finn, “and I’ll see what he or she advises. Until I consult with someone, I don’t think we should discuss it. I’ve seen enough Law & Orders and The Good Wifes to know that I shouldn’t talk to you without a lawyer present.”

  “That’s in a criminal case,” Finn argued. “This isn’t that.”

  “Feels sort of like it to me.” It felt like a lot of things. Like he was calling her competence into question. Like he didn’t believe she loved the kids enough to stay put. Like he didn’t trust her. “I mean, you’re asking someone to judge my fitness, right?”

  “Mattie, I don’t doubt your fitness, I simply think...” He paused.

  “You simply think I’m getting antsy. That I’m going to pack up and leave them.” She felt guilty as she said the words because she had felt the urge to pick up and go more than once, but she wouldn’t. It wasn’t that she was only held here by a promise to a friend...she was really here out of love for the kids.

  She heard strains of “Waltzing Matilda” in her head. Ray had given her a poster when she was in her teens with all the Australian terms from the song. A Mathilda was an affectionate term for a swag or a swagman’s pack. He camped by a billybong—a pool of water. Jumbuck—a sheep. The squatter or land owner...

  She’d proudly hung the poster in her room and loved the sound of the foreign words on her lips. She used to gaze at the image from her bed and dream about the day she could pack her swag and head for the open road.

  No, she wasn’t going to throw her Mathilda on her back and leave because it would be convenient for Finn Wallace. “I’m not going anywhere, F
inn,” she said as much to herself as to him. “I’ll handle the lawyer’s fees and I’ll fight to keep the kids. So we don’t have anything to talk about.”

  “And that’s that?” he asked.

  “Are you going to drop the suit?” she countered.

  “No.”

  “Then that’s that. We’ll let the court figure it out.” What had she expected? That he’d say, never mind. You keep them. No, Finn Wallace was not the kind of man who would give up and back down.

  He nodded. “I’ll be back next weekend.”

  “Fine. I mean, it will look good for your suit to be here regularly. Right? Busy doctor, taking a break from saving the world to rescue his nieces and nephew from a guardian with wanderlust?”

  “Mattie, I’m not—”

  “And I’m not interested in the case you’re building for the judge. I’m interested in the kids. I’m interested in what your sister wanted, the kind of life she envisioned for them. What you’re offering them isn’t it. She didn’t want them to be a side note in your busy schedule. She wanted someone who would make them a priority. Someone who would set everything else aside and concentrate on their well-being.”

  Mattie couldn’t give them as much as Finn financially, but that much she could do. She was doing it. Zoe, Mickey and Abbey were the focus of her life. Everything else was peripheral to them. Mattie might sometimes wish to move on, to see someplace new, to meet new people, but she wouldn’t indulge herself. The kids were what mattered.

  “Maybe all my wandering has an upside. You see, I don’t have a career or some grand calling. I have a job. And while you can’t put a career aside to take care of kids, you can put a job aside, especially a job where your brother’s the boss.” She looked directly at Finn. “Goodbye,” she said quietly. “We’ll see you next week.”

  She went into the house and softly closed the door behind her. She didn’t want Finn to tell his lawyer that she’d slammed it in his face.

  Everything she did from here on out would need to be done with Finn and his lawsuit in mind.