by Holly Jacobs
She filed the moment away, a moment to be savored and treasured. Her mother really did think she was special. Oh, Mattie still knew she wasn’t, but having someone else believe it felt like a gift.
She packed that memory away.
* * *
WEDNESDAY NIGHT MATTIE walked into Mickey’s bedroom and was almost bowled over by the stench. “Mickey, what is that smell?”
“What smell?”
Her initial instinct might be to blame poor Bear, but this wasn’t a stinky dog smell. They’d had Bear long enough that she would know if it was. When she finally tracked the odor to its lair under Mickey’s bed, she found that it came from a hunk of cheese that had to be have been under the bed for days and smelled so disgusting that even Bear wanted nothing to do with it.
She stored that smell away...she was pretty sure she’d never totally eliminate the memory anyway. She’d also do it because it was a typical moment with Mickey.
Sophie breezed into the coffee shop four times during the week, asking Mattie’s opinion on this or that wedding detail.
Lily dropped in between home health care visits, or on her way to help out at the diner, to vent about Sebastian. “That man is impossible,” she’d insisted again and again.
Lily’s perception of Sebastian didn’t really mesh with Mattie’s memories of him, but she didn’t contradict Lily. Instead, she listened and tried to be a friend, realizing how much she’d miss Lily and Sophie when she moved on.
She stored those moments, too.
And her favorite memory, one that she knew she’d pull out repeatedly, had been reading to Abbey. The little girl cuddled on her lap, and Bear sprawled on the bed with them.
Both Mickey and Zoe had wandered into their sister’s room at bedtime, lingering while listening to Dorothy’s adventure in Oz. The story was coming to an end and Mattie couldn’t help but feel the parallel between her time here with the children, and the end of the story.
As she’d read the book she glanced up and stored away the memories. Abbey smelled like Bridget as she cuddled close. Bear snored. Zoe tried to pretend she wasn’t really engaged in the story, but her rapt expression gave her away. And Mickey put his hand under his armpit and made farting noises, which had both his sisters outraged at his grossness.
No, most people probably wouldn’t choose that as a memory to hoard, but Mattie adored it even as she said, “Mickey, no arm farts! Girls, ignore him.”
She went back to the book and her voice faltered at the words about how it didn’t matter where anyone was, so long as they were loved.
She collected herself and continued, but even as she did, the rest of the stored memories flooded her mind. It didn’t matter where she was...in Valley Ridge or Buffalo. It didn’t matter as long as she was with the kids.
And Finn, a little voice whispered.
She cast it aside. Finn wasn’t her concern. The kids were. But as she finished the chapter and tucked Abbey under her covers for the night, Mattie could hear the voice still whispering and Finn.
And Finn.
And Finn.
* * *
MATTIE HAD WANTED to talk to Finn on Friday night, but there wasn’t a quiet second to be had. And amidst the chaos that the kids and the dog generated, he’d given her some looks that she couldn’t quite interpret.
She hardly slept after he left. Her stomach was a twisting mass of nerves. She finally gave up about four and started coffee, the laundry and picking up in that order.
She wanted to hurry the day along. It was a beautiful May morning. The flowers were out, the trees were budding and she could use that as an excuse to send the kids outside so she could talk to Finn.
She had everything ready. She only needed to give the envelope to him and explain her plan. She’d already called her attorney and told him what she was going to do.
She set the manila envelope on the table, and found herself touching it every time she walked by. And she walked by often, because she couldn’t sit still. She was pretty sure Finn would agree with her decision.
But wasn’t positive.
That not positive part was the part that was making her crazy.
She had everything picked up before Abbey bolted downstairs with Bear on her heels. “Bear and me is hungry.”
“You and Bear are hungry?” Mattie said, heavy emphasis on the are.
“Yeah, we is,” she repeated as if Mattie were dense.
Before she could go make another stab at her grammar lesson, there was a knock at the back door and Finn came in with a big bag in one hand, and a coffee mug in the other. Bear rushed out past him. He shut the door and held the bag aloft. “Muffins. And notice I took my own mug to the store. I saved a dime...and saved the world. I love your new promotion. It’s brilliant actually.”
Mattie didn’t have time to bask in his compliment. It did seem like a no-brainer, win-win sort of idea. Bring in your own mug, save the store the cost of a paper one, and also do a bit to save the planet.
Abbey hollered, “Uncle Finn, you brought food. Me and Bear was so hungry.”
As if on cue, Bear barked at the door, indicating he was ready to come in.
“Well, I’m glad I saved the day,” Finn said.
He sat down at the counter next to Abbey and got her a muffin, then got up and brought her milk and an apple, unasked.
“That’s three colors, Uncle Finn. That’s a good breakfast, right, Aunt Mattie?”
Both Finn and Abbey smiled at her expectantly, so she pasted a smile on her face and said, “Right.”
“I taught Uncle Finn about lots of colors. He’s only got two though. Coffee’s brown, and that muffin’s kinda orange.”
Finn looked at her and grinned. “Well, I don’t want to get in trouble. I’d better find another color.”
He went and helped himself to an apple, as well. Abbey nodded her approval, then started eating her muffin as if she were well and truly starving.
“So, can we find a minute after the pickup party?” he asked conversationally.
“I’m planning on it. I have something for you.” She thought about the envelope and prayed that he was going to agree.
“That’s intriguing,” Finn said.
“Do you have somethin’ for me, Aunt Mattie?”
“A big, giant, wet kiss. Bigger than Bear’s.” Mattie planted the kiss on Abbey’s forehead.
“That’s awful big,” Abbey said through a giant mouthful of food.
Mattie would normally have scolded her niece about talking with her mouth full, but today she didn’t have the heart. This was it. The last of the pickup parties before she changed everything.
Even if Finn agreed to her plan, it wouldn’t be the same.
* * *
MATTIE WAS ACTING weird.
If asked, before everything had changed for him, he’d have said Mattie always acted weird. He never knew what to expect from her. If he thought she should go left, she went right. And vice versa. It used to drive him crazy.
He felt he knew her now, but he still obviously had a thing or two to learn, since he had no idea what was wrong with her today.
He knew why he was nervous, but he didn’t know why she was.
Somehow they finished the pickup party more quickly than they’d ever managed. They went to the store, and rather than going out to lunch, Mattie had bought a premade pizza and baked it, then shooed the younger kids out into the yard with Bear. Zoe disappeared into her room, but soon after, came back down and headed out back, too.
“So,” Mattie said. “The kids are outside and we have a few quiet minutes. I have something for you.”
She walked into the living room and he followed. Mickey tore past them with Bear behind him, and a couple clock ticks later, Abbey came through. “Wait for me,” she screamed.
All three dashed upstairs.
Zoe stormed into the living room and said, “I’m going to kill them. Did you hear that, you t
wo? I’m going to do both of you and your stupid dog in.” She turned to Mattie. “How could you let them keep that beast?”
“What did they do?” Mattie asked.
“The dog ate my new...” Zoe glanced down at her T-shirt.
“T-shirt?” Finn asked, preparing to offer to buy her a new one.
Zoe shook her head, and Mattie supplied, “Bra. You can say the word, Zoe.”
“Yeah, well, the dog chomped on it, and now, Mickey and Abbey are aiding and abetting him.” Zoe raised her voice again. “But I’m going to find you both and that’s it...dead dog and siblings.”
“Zoe,” Mattie scolded. There was nothing harsh in how she said it, just a sense of disappointment. From Zoe’s expression he could see that it bothered her more than someone screaming at her.
Quieter now, Zoe said, “I’m not really going to kill them.”
“Still.”
“Okay.” She then called out, “In the interest of honesty, I won’t be killing anyone. That would be wrong. Very wrong. And it would disappoint Aunt Mattie. But I’m going to collect favorite toys and hold them hostage until you hand over the dog.” She turned back to Mattie. “Better?”
“No hostages,” Finn said, and hoped he was helping. “And why don’t I simply offer to replace the bra?”
Zoe blushed, but replied, “That would help.”
“In future I think it would be best if you kept your bedroom door closed unless you’re in it,” Mattie suggested.
“Even when I’m in it,” she huffed and stormed up the stairs.
“So, you’re thinking we’re going to have a quiet talk now?” Finn asked.
“I know adults can manage to talk with children present. We’re both still too new at this to have known how, but it can be done. My parents used to manage it.”
“Mine, too, now that I think of it,” he agreed. He was about to burst. He wanted to tell Mattie his idea. He thought she’d be pleased, but nothing was ever certain where Mathilda Keith was concerned.
“Maybe if we leave them here and go out to the front porch,” she offered. When Finn nodded his agreement, she hollered, “Kids, we’ll be right outside on the porch.”
They stepped into the foyer, and the closet door opened. “Is she gone?”
“She’s upstairs,” Mattie replied.
“Good.” Mickey, the dog and Abbey all tumbled out of the closet. Bear still had a training bra in his mouth.
Mickey whispered in a covert voice, “She left it on the floor. You should yell at Zoe and tell her to pick up her stuff.”
“I’ll be sure to mention it. Uncle Finn and I are going to be on the front porch for a few minutes.”
The kids nodded and tiptoed toward the kitchen.
Mattie grabbed the manila envelope on the table before following Finn outside. When they got there, she handed it to him.
He held the envelope gingerly, as if he were afraid it would bite. “What’s this?”
“I called my lawyer and dropped the case. I—”
“What?” he asked.
“I dropped it. That’s my—”
A car pulled up in front of the house and a horn beeped, interrupting her.
Mrs. Callais emerged from the vehicle and waved. “Am I interrupting?” she asked.
Here it was. Mattie had asked her lawyer to keep the fact she was giving custody to Finn quiet until this weekend. She wanted to be the one to tell him and put him in the picture. She didn’t want to do it in front of the social worker, but it looked as if she had no choice now, so she smiled at the woman. “No, Mrs. Callais, your timing is perfect. I was telling Finn that I fired my lawyer. I’m no longer planning to contest his request for guardianship.”
Both of them stared at her, and Mattie sucked in a deep breath and continued quickly, “You see, I’m moving out of Valley Ridge. I—”
“You’re what?” Finn was clearly incredulous; his expression one of instant anger. “You’re going to abandon the kids? You’re going to ignore the promise you made to my sister?”
“Look in the envelope, Finn,” she said softly. She wanted him to say yes. That home was wherever the kids were. And, she admitted to herself, home was wherever Finn was.
He wadded up the envelope in his hand, clenching it. “I don’t care what these papers say. You can’t give the kids away and you can’t leave us.”
“I’m not—”
He tossed the envelope on the porch. “Damn it, Mattie, I thought we were building something together.”
“What did you think you were building, Dr. Wallace?” Mrs. Callais asked, reminding them that they weren’t alone.
“A family,” he said, with what was surely pride in his voice. “I don’t know how it happened, but Mattie, me and the kids, we’ve become something more than my sister’s best friend, her brother and her children. All those things are true. And though she’s still there, at heart, we’re more than that now.
“We’re a family. And family doesn’t walk away from one another because they get a touch of the wanderlust.” He stepped toward Mattie. “We can take vacations. Go anywhere in the world you’ve got your heart set on seeing, but your place is here with the kids and me.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed.
“Hell, if you need...” He paused, her words finally registering. “It is?”
“Look in the envelope, Finn.”
He bent down, picked it up and opened the wrinkled envelope. He pulled out the neatly typed paper and stared at it, then passed it off to Mrs. Callais.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“I’m agreeing to your demands. You can be the kids’ guardian, and take them to Buffalo. But I’m coming, too. I’m applying for the job as nanny, babysitter, whatever you’re going to call it. I want to be that person. That’s what my CV is for. I think you can see that my vast and varied job history will make me the perfect candidate for nanny to the kids. I know all about healthy eating, and I can build a castle, play games. And let’s not forget, I can make a mean cup of coffee. I’m willing to work flexible hours and be on call 24/7. I—”
“You’re willing to leave Valley Ridge, to let the kids leave?” he asked. “I thought you said you felt this was the best place for them.”
“I was wrong. The best place for the kids is with people who love them. You. Me. You’re right...we’re more than what we were. All of us, we’re together because we loved Bridget, but now...”
“Now our connection is more than Bridget?” he half asked, half stated. “Now you love...”
She interrupted, not wanting to have this part of the conversation in front of the social worker. “I have always loved the kids.”
“And me?” Finn asked quietly, obviously not willing to let it go.
“I have not always loved you,” she admitted. She remembered her crush on him when she was younger. It had been a young girl’s crush on her best friend’s older brother. She’d thought nothing could ever burn so bright, but she was wrong. What she felt for him in this moment was deep and lasting. It was so much deeper. So much more.
“No, not always, but now?” he pressed.
She pointed at the social worker, hoping he’d take the hint; instead, he stared at her, waiting. And Mrs. Callais wore an expression of expectation.
“Do you need me to say it?” she asked.
Before Finn could answer, Mrs. Callais said, “Words have power, chérie. Words have power.” The social worker’s voice was suddenly thick with emotion.
“New Orleans?” Mattie asked, taking a stab at identifying Mrs. Callais’s particular Southern accent, because she was stalling.
Mrs. Callais nodded, then looked knowingly at her, and at Finn.
Since Finn wasn’t going to let up, and Mrs. Callais was here for the duration, Mattie finally said, “Fine. I love you, Finn. I’m not asking for anything from you. And it’s not some ploy to make you hire me. After all these years of traveling, loo
king for where I belong, I’ve discovered it’s right here.”
“In Valley Ridge?”
She shook her head. “We already covered that. I don’t belong in a specific place, I belong with you.”
“Me and the kids?”
She smiled. “But even without the kids, you.”
Finn whooped. It was the sort of expression he might have made in his youth. Him, Colton and Sebastian, whooping over something. But Dr. Finn Wallace wasn’t a whooper—that’s what she’d have said if asked. But apparently, she was wrong.
He held her tight, hugging her as if he never wanted to let her go.
“I wish I’d thought about doing something as dramatic as bringing you the paperwork all tied up in a bow, but...” He handed her back the envelope. “I don’t need your CV. If I were hiring a babysitter, or nanny, or whatever you’d call her, I’d hire you, credentials unseen. But I’m not taking the kids to Buffalo.”
“You’re not?” she asked.
“No. They’re staying here in Valley Ridge, where they belong.”
She felt a suspicious moistness around her eyes. “Why?”
“They need to be here. They need to be in the house they grew up in, surrounded by people who love them.”
“They need you more than a house,” she added. “Seeing you only on weekends won’t cut it.”
“I know. That’s why I’m making some changes. I’ve talked to my partners and I’m opening a satellite office between Buffalo and Valley Ridge. I’ll need to go into the city a few times a week for surgeries, but I’ll apply for privileges at the hospital we took Abbey to. I’m sure there will be kinks to work out, emergencies and such, but I’ll be here with you and the kids all the time. I’ve talked to JoAnn and I’ll have a room there until you and I see where we stand. But, for the record, I love you, too.”
Mrs. Callais beamed. “That was beautiful, chérie.” Then, in an instant, the mushy woman with the sound of New Orleans singing in her voice, was replaced with a woman who was all business and whose voice lost all but the faintest hint of her origins. “I’m pleased to see that the two of you have worked things out. Your solution satisfies the department of children’s welfare.”