Something Borrowed

by Holly Jacobs

  “Mommy loved us, but couldn’t stay,” Abbey said. “She knew Uncle Finn and Aunt Mattie would watch us and love us.”

  “We both do,” Mattie assured them.

  “We do,” Finn said.

  That was that. The kids accepted their assurances. Mickey and Abbey went back to their squabbling, and Zoe continued with her beeping and squealing. Mattie was thankful because the kids’ hullaballoo in the backseat was loud enough to make conversing with Finn difficult. He’d pitched out dozens of conversational volleys, all of which she refused to catch and allowed to fall with gigantic thuds.

  Mattie thought about yesterday, how effortlessly Finn had handled everything. She thought about today, how well he’d dealt with the kids.

  They both loved the kids.

  She knew that Finn loved them as much as she did. Yet one of them was going to lose. One of them was going to have to walk away despite the fact they loved them.

  “About us and the kids. You’re going to have to talk to me sometime,” Finn said softly as they finally pulled into the driveway.

  “Maybe, but not today.” She glanced at him, which was a huge mistake.

  He pushed up his glasses, which only served to emphasize the look of contrition and...well, disappointment reflected in his deep blue eyes. “I said I was sorry about yesterday. Things seemed okay between us at the zoo.”

  They had been okay. Mattie was able to enjoy the day and forget. But it was a momentary reprieve. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Finn. It was a kind and lovely gesture.”

  “Then why the cold shoulder?” Finn asked.

  She unloaded the kids and sent them inside then turned to Finn. “Why the cold shoulder? Because it’s for the best. We’re in a very strange situation, you and I. We both love the kids, and every weekend we’re playing at being a family. But we’re a make-believe one at best. You’re the kids’ uncle. I’m their guardian. We haven’t figured out what those names actually mean. And I think maybe we’re trying to make it something it’s not, and something it will never be.”

  “So what are we then?” he challenged.

  “Friends,” she said, although that definition of their relationship didn’t quite ring true. To be honest, the idea of being a friend to Finn Wallace was absurd. But there it was. Despite everything, they were friends.

  Like Lily or Sophie, if she needed someone to hide a body, he’d dig the hole. She knew that with a bone-deep certainty. And she’d do the same for him.

  Friends.

  It was close enough.

  “Mattie, I think...”

  “Don’t think. Don’t say anything more about it. I was stupid yesterday, and I know it. Holding a pickup party for me and ordering dinner was terrific. I’m...” She paused, then quietly confessed, “I’m confused and I’m scared.”

  “Of what?”

  She wanted to say, of you. She’d always had a benign relationship with Finn. He was Bridget’s older brother, someone who’d been a fringe part of her life for as long as she could remember, as long as she’d been friends with Bridget, which was next to forever. There had been that blink of an eye when she’d crushed all over him, but that had been fleeting and she’d returned to her ambivalence in the next blink. She understood that relationship.

  But this? This new pretend family thing?

  She didn’t get that at all. She didn’t understand why the man who was suing her for custody had become something more than Bridget’s brother and the kids’ uncle to her. “Please, Finn. I don’t want to discuss or analyze anything else tonight. Why don’t you go and spend the last bit of time you have with the kids before you drive back to Buffalo.”

  She assumed he was going to argue. Finn Wallace was a man who was used to getting answers when he wanted them. But then he surprised her by leaning down and kissing her forehead, then following the children into the house.

  She reached up and touched the spot that he’d kissed. It felt as if he’d left some kind of imprint there. But that was absurd. Finn’s kiss was as chaste a kiss as she’d ever received. Heck, it barely qualified as a kiss.

  And yet, that mere press of his lips to her forehead left her feeling something she couldn’t quite identify.

  It might be...longing?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HUMP DAY.

  Mattie poured what she hoped would be her last cup of coffee of the day and checked the clock—2:00 p.m. Almost time for the kids to get out of school. The weather had been warm and sunny, and she’d been letting Zoe walk Mickey and Abbey from the school to the store more and more. It meant her prep for the following morning got done a lot faster.

  “See you tomorrow, John,” she called and returned to cleaning out another coffee thermos.

  The bell jingled over the door, signaling someone had entered the shop. “Maeve Buchanan, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before.”

  Valley Ridge’s librarian looked like a classic Irish lass. Brilliant red hair, a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, a peaches-and-cream complexion, topped off with green eyes.

  Okay, so her eyes were actually that murky blue that in the right light, or if Maeve was wearing the right shirt, looked green.

  Close enough, in Mattie’s mind.

  “I don’t skip the store on purpose. I’m simply not a coffee drinker,” the former wild girl about town said.

  “I’m sorry, you must be speaking some foreign language,” Mattie teased. “You don’t what?”

  Maeve laughed. “Coffee is not my drink of choice.”

  “Gasp,” Mattie said, grabbing her throat for dramatic effect.

  “I know. I’m a tea drinker in a sea of coffee. But hey, that’s been the story of my life. If there’s any current at all, I’m the one who’s swimming against it.” Maeve laughed.

  “I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ve always thought it was better to be original than a carbon copy of someone else. Of course, I am a coffee drinker, so maybe I’m not as original as I think.”

  “I believe we’re both safe in assuming we’re not the status quo. I’ve always admired the way you’ve traveled.”

  That was not a sentiment most people in Valley Ridge favored and it was kind of nice to hear. “Thanks, Maeve. So, if it’s not the coffee, what can I do for you today?”

  “I’ve heard there are some amazing homemade muffins and I was hoping to get a selection for the group meeting at the library tonight.” Maeve eyed the home-baked goods and smiled. “I may over-order, so if there are leftovers, I’ll be forced to take them home.”

  Mattie asked, “What is the group?”

  “Turns out we have a small group of dedicated Civil War reenactors in Valley Ridge. They’ve been reading a new book about some battle.”

  Her expression said that Maeve was less than enthused by the group’s choice. “The book wasn’t good?” Mattie was curious.

  “It was good enough, but between you and me, once I discovered which side won, I gave up waiting for the cliff-hanger.”

  Mattie laughed. “You were on my list of people to visit as soon as I had a moment.”

  “Oh?” Maeve asked. They’d always been friendly, but they weren’t friends.

  “Sophie, Lily and I were thinking about starting a book club of our own.” Mattie felt excited at the idea, then remembered that there was a very good chance that she wouldn’t be here when they started. Once Finn took the kids, would there be enough left to keep her here in Valley Ridge?

  “Not one that reads strictly Civil War books?” Maeve asked.

  Mattie shook her head and forced a smile. “No. We were thinking a romance book club. There are so many subgenres within the genre. We can have suspense, comedy, drama, inspirational... Romance has it all. But we know that at the end of the story, there’s a happy ending. The three of us prefer stories we can count on ending well.”

  Maeve clapped her hands, looking as excited as Mickey had been ov
er Bear. “Oh, I love the idea.”

  “We thought we might hold it at the library. But more than that, we know that the library is always strapped for financial help, so what if we charge a nominal fee to join? The money goes into the library’s book-buying fund. And when we finish a book, we thought we’d encourage members to donate them books to the library, as well.”

  Maeve grinned. “Mattie, that would be awesome.”

  Mattie suddenly remembered that Maeve had come here for a reason. “What kind of muffins?”

  “Why don’t you give me a mixed dozen.”

  “Great.”

  She boxed up the muffins and handed them to Maeve. “They’re on the house.”

  “The guys always pitch in for the snacks,” Maeve assured her. “It’s not coming out of my pocket.”

  “Well, let them pitch in today and use the money to buy a book on Park Perks.”

  Maeve stopped reaching for her money. “Thanks, Mattie.”

  “Ray’s mentioned that you’re the driving force behind the library.” Maeve was in charge of shipping and receiving at a winery in Ripley during the day, and had evening and Saturday hours at the library.

  “It keeps me busy. I don’t think a town is really a town without a library. It was great when Ray got the town council to reopen the old library building. I still can’t believe it had been closed up for all those years.”

  “Rumor has it you’re working for nothing,” Mattie said.

  Maeve shrugged. “There’s talk about paying an honorarium, but frankly, I’d just put the money back into the library. It’s not just me. A lot of volunteers help out. The shop class at the high school has donated one new bookcase per term for the past two years. And I think most of Valley Ridge has donated their old books.” Her eyes glowed with excitement.

  “Well, Park Perks is happy to pitch in.”

  “Perfect. And thanks for the muffins.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Maeve set the muffins on the counter and reached into her bag. “Abbey asked me to get a copy of this a few weeks ago when we opened up the library during the day for her class to visit. It came in and I thought I’d let her have the first go with it.”

  She handed Mattie a pretty, hardback copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

  “She asked to read this?” They’d just finished a Ramona book for their nightly story time, and Abbey hadn’t mentioned wanting to read anything specifically.

  “I’d read the kids The Velveteen Rabbit at story time, and one of the kids said they’d watched the movie, which led to a discussion about books being made into movies, and I listed off some, and one was The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and...”

  “There you have it.” Mattie flipped through the book and admired the beautiful pen-and-ink illustrations. “She’ll love it. Thanks, Maeve.”

  Maeve picked up the muffins and said, “Thank you.”

  Mattie was prepping for the next morning’s coffee drinkers when the door flew open and the kids roared in.

  Mattie loved working at the coffee house. But this was one of her favorite moments of the day, when work and school were over, and it was her time with the kids. “Hey, everyone,” she said. “How was school?”

  “I got an A on my math test,” Mickey said.

  “Everyone loved my new phone. I got a bunch of numbers, but not during classes,” Zoe hastily assured her. “And I didn’t turn it on during school, I promise.”

  Abbey was usually the first one to erupt with her news. Mattie scooped her up and realized soon she wouldn’t be able to pick up Bridget’s youngest. “And how about you, munchkin?”

  Abbey shrugged. “I didn’t eat all my lunch so I gave my cookies to Roland. He eats everything.”

  “Well, I’m glad you shared cookies, not your sandwich,” Mattie praised. “I have something for you.”

  That perked her up. “What?”

  “Miss Maeve stopped in. She got a new order of books in and checked this one out for you.” Mattie reached up on the counter and pulled down The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. “She said she thought you’d like the illustrations.”

  “That’s pictures,” Abbey informed her brother.

  “I know that, stu...” He looked at Mattie and quickly altered his sentence’s trajectory. “I know what illustrations are. We did that word last year in vocab. I got an A on that test, too.”

  Still holding Abbey, Mattie managed to muss Mickey’s very short hair. “Good for you, Ace.”

  “Can we read it tonight?” Abbey asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Can I read it, too?” Mickey’s question was directed more at Abbey than Mattie.

  “Yeah,” Abbey said. Despite their frequent bickering, the fact they loved one another was evident at times like this.

  “We can all read it,” Abbey proclaimed. “Zoe, too, right, Zoe?”

  Zoe was about to scoff at the idea of reading a bedtime story with her younger siblings, but at the last second she said, “Okay. I can come in for a bit.”

  Mattie did one more quick check of the shop, then gathered up the kids, their book bags and Abbey’s book. She locked up behind her.

  As the door shut, it finally felt as if her day was truly beginning.

  * * *

  IN THE DOCTORS’ LOUNGE, Finn slumped into an overstuffed chair. Seven-thirty.

  Where had his day gone?

  He was exhausted, but not too exhausted to pull out his cell phone, and tapped the first number listed among his favorites. It read, Home.

  “Hi, Finn,” Mattie answered on the first ring.

  “Hi. Are the kids still up?”

  “It so happens that they’re right here. We were about to read a bedtime story.”

  “Everyone?” he asked. “Even Zoe?” The thought of his eldest niece voluntarily having story time with the younger kids boggled.

  Mattie’s laughter floated through the line. He could picture the expression that went with it and he wished he was there to see it in person.

  “Zoe, too. Maeve ordered a new copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz for Abbey and dropped it off to me today at the shop, so we’re going to start it tonight.”

  “You guys finished Ramona?” he guessed.

  “Just last night.”

  Finn had sat in on a few chapters last weekend. Now he’d never know how the story ended. And he probably could live without knowing the ending, but he resented not being there when Abbey discovered how it ended.

  He hated not being with them tonight as they all started delving into Oz.

  “Hang on,” Mattie said. “I’ll put Zoe on, and she can pass the phone on from there.”

  “Hi, Uncle Finn. You coulda called my phone,” she said.

  Finn kicked himself and wished he’d thought of it. “I will tomorrow, I promise.”

  “Cool. Here’s Mick.”

  Mickey talked about his grades, and then excitedly told him about a science fair the teacher wanted to hold before the end of the school year. “I thought you could help. I’m allowed to have a mom or dad, the teacher said. I told her I didn’t have none of those, and she said aunts and uncles were fine, too. I asked Aunt Mattie, but she said you won some science stuff and might be better.”

  Mattie’s generosity humbled him even as it confounded him. She put the kids first. Always. Even when it came to science fairs.

  “Sure. I bet we can come up with something.”

  “Great.”

  Abbey didn’t have much to say other than she wanted to start her story. She told him that she’d looked at all the pictures and now wanted the words. “You wanna read it with us, Uncle Finn?”

  Finn had patient charts to do before he could go home, and his stomach growled, reminding him that coffee wasn’t enough to sustain him. Which made him think of Mattie and how she’d lecture him on healthy eating if she knew. Though his first inclination was to tell Abbey all that and excuse hims
elf, he found himself saying, “I’d love it. Ask Aunt Mattie if she could put me on speakerphone and you hold the phone while she reads, so I can listen.”

  Finn put his feet up on the coffee table, leaned back in the chair and listened as Mattie read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

  “Dorothy’s just like me,” Abbey proclaimed. “I live in a small house with my aunt and almost with my uncle, too.”

  Finn realized he didn’t want Abbey to almost live with him, too. He didn’t want to be here in Buffalo listening to a story and almost living with the kids. He wanted to be with them full-time.

  He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything.

  Bear barked, the kids’ voices intermingled as they told the dog to be quiet and move over, and Mattie corralled them all and started again.

  * * *

  MATTIE KNEW THERE WERE a bunch of chores that needed to be done, and that a Thursday afternoon at home was a rare opportunity to catch up on some. But Abbey was sick.

  The teacher said there had been a virus that was rampant at the school, and odds were that was what Abbey had, but that didn’t help. Seeing her there on the couch, quiet and dozing, brought to mind Bridget there, just a few months ago, before they’d had the hospital bed installed in her room. She liked to be out here in the living room, where, despite her weakened state, she could feel a part of things.

  Mattie knew this wasn’t the same thing. Abbey had a virus, not cancer. Every kid got sick sometimes. This was simply a bug. Abbey would be up and running around in no time.

  She kept up the silent pep talk, but no amount of reassuring herself helped.

  That Abbey was sick crowded out every other thought since the school had called around twelve. She felt as if she’d lived a week since then.

  Kids got sick, she told herself again. She’d phoned her brother, hoping he’d come in to the coffeehouse so she could go pick up Abbey. When she couldn’t get anything but his voice mail, she’d simply left him a message, put a Closed for Family Illness sign on the coffee shop door and raced to the school to pick up her youngest charge.

  Abbey had been tucked up safely in the nurse’s office. She’d looked small and pathetic when Mattie first saw her. She looked worse as the afternoon ticked by. Mattie had given her acetaminophen to bring down her temperature and offered ice chips for her scratchy throat. She planned on calling Finn as soon as his office hours were over, just to be sure she’d covered all her bases.