by Melody Grace
“I can think of one.”
She’s right, but Finn already made that choice, and it turns out I wasn’t reason enough. So why would he stick around this time, when he has a brilliant, successful life waiting for him?
What is he doing here at all?
I turn to the puppies for consolation. After a moment, I realize that Edith isn’t talking. Usually, she’s got a million stories to tell, everything from a friend she ran into in town, or some documentary she saw on TV the other night. But today, she’s just rocking in silence, looking distracted as she gazes out over the property.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, not wanting to intrude.
Edith sighs. “Just the usual, that’s all. A place like this, it doesn’t run itself. And these days, I’m not getting any younger…” She trails off, but I’m worried now. I put the puppies aside and go join her, perching on the swing.
“I can work more hours, if you need,” I offer. “Stop by early mornings to help with the feed, maybe.”
She shakes her head. “Oh no, that’s not necessary. The thing is.” She pauses. “Well, you know I don’t own this land?”
I nod, but I’ve never thought about it. “It belonged to an old business acquaintance of mine,” she continues. “Back when I wore a pants suit and worked in a law firm, would you believe.”
“I still can’t picture it,” I smile. For all her tales of climbing the corporate ladder, forty years ago, I can’t imagine Edith out of her muddy boots and trailing scarves.
“I was quite the trial lawyer,” she says, with a glimmer of steel in her expression. “They called me a barracuda. Meant it as an insult, I guess, but that didn’t make a difference when the verdict came in.” She smiles, remembering old victories, then shakes her head. “The land. Anyway, when he heard what I was doing out here, he offered to rent it to me cheap, for the animals. Well, he passed on a while back, and now his children have got it in their heads that this place might be worth something after all.”
“Here?” My disbelief is clear. Edith laughs. “No,” I say quickly, “I just mean… It’s great for the shelter, but it’s so far out.”
I look around. The buildings themselves are old and run down, functional, but nothing pretty. There’s a main ranch house that Edith lives in, with sheds and outbuildings sprawling to the fenced-in paddock, and fields beyond.
“It’s the land value,” Edith says, sounding resigned. “They say they’ve talked to some developers, and it’s worth more than they thought now.”
“But they can’t do that.”
“They can do anything they want,” Edith shrugs. “They want to raise our rents, at the very least, and keep us month-to-month in case they decide to sell.”
“What’ll happen to the dogs?” I ask, feeling stricken. “They love it here, and we wouldn’t be able to find homes for them, not on that kind of notice.”
“We don’t need to think about that just yet.” Edith pats my hand. “They’re still talking to lawyers and the realtor. I expect it’ll take a little while to iron everything out.”
But still, I think of the puppies, and Chester, and all the two dozen other animals we have scampering around at any one time. Sure, we try to adopt as many out as possible, but there are always more animals in need of a safe, warm place to stay. As soon as one batch of cute puppies is sent off to a loving home, there’s another litter abandoned: dangerously underweight, or injured, and needing our care and feeding. And then there are the older dogs, the ones nobody would take in. They spend their days lazing on the porch, or ambling around the fields. Without this place, they’d have nowhere to go, nobody to love them, or to make sure they’re still healthy and have something to eat.
My heart clenches just thinking about it, and Edith must see my distress because she tuts. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” She pats me again. “It’ll work itself out. It always does.”
“Is there anything I can do?” I ask, still anxious.
“You just focus on your own affairs,” Edith says firmly. “Speaking of which, don’t you have a party to get to?”
I sigh. Partying is the last thing on my mind right now, but I know Lottie will be excited. I get up from the swing. “You will tell me, won’t you?” I check. “If things get bad with the bills, or if there’s some way I can help?”
“Of course.” Edith smiles. “You’re a good girl, you know. Better than he ever deserved.”
I don’t need to ask who she means.
“Now, you go get ready,” she insists. “And see if anyone feels like taking a couple of these puppies off our hands!”
Twelve.
For Lottie’s sake, I dress up tonight – at least that’s what I tell myself as I drive over to Finn’s house. I can hear the party from the bottom of the driveway. Cars are parked haphazardly all the way up, with loud music playing and the sound of conversation drifting on the breeze. It’s a warm night, and the scent of rhododendrons is thick in the air. Lanterns are strung all the way down to the far dock.
I get out and smooth my skirt down, nervous. If I could have shown up in overalls, it would have been safer. Instead, I’m wearing a fluttery skirt with a silky tank. Perfectly demure by any standards, but all I can think about is how easy it would be to lift the hem higher, or slip the spaghetti straps down over my shoulders…
No. Bad Eva. Think sober, unsexy thoughts.
I head up the front steps. It looks like every door and window in the old house is flung open, spilling bright lights and laughter out into the dusk light. Inside, the place is packed, with dozens of faces I recognize, and plenty I don’t.
“Isn’t this great?” Lottie grabs me from behind as I make my way deeper inside. “I don’t know how he pulled it off, but everyone’s here!”
“Happy early birthday,” I laugh, hugging her. “Did Kit get settled with the babysitter?”
“Yup.” She beams, grabbing a bottle from the table. “And she’s promised to text hourly updates. So as far as I’m concerned, I’m young, free, and single tonight.”
“Atta girl!” Delilah joins us, slapping her on the ass. “I’ll drink to that.” She grabs us some glasses, and Lottie pours. “Champagne?” She notes the bottle and whistles.
“He bought, like, a whole case,” Lottie says, eyes wide. “And there’s catering, too, all kinds of food and desserts. I feel kind of bad. I didn’t expect anything like this.”
“He can afford it,” Delilah says blithely, toasting us. “And if he wants to try and buy your affections, let him.”
“My what?” Lottie frowns.
“To get on your good side,” Delilah explains. “Because of Eva.”
“Leave me out of this,” I say quickly, gulping my drink.
“But wait.” Lottie grabs my arm. “What does she mean-?”
“Oh look!” I interrupt, spotting someone across the room. “Isn’t that the cute guy who talked to you in the park? You should go say hello.”
Lottie’s head snaps around. “Sam!” She brightens, then heads across to talk to him.
“Quick save,” Delilah smirks.
“Don’t you start.” I give her a look.
“My lips, sealed.” Dee mimes locking them shut. “I’m just glad you finally wore a ‘fuck me’ outfit.”
“What?” My voice rises an octave. She laughs.
“The heart wants what the heart wants. Good luck!” Delilah saunters away, leaving me in a new panic. It’s not my heart that’s the problem, it’s my body that’s betraying me. Every time I see someone out of the corner of my eye I turn, hoping that they’re Finn.
Where is he?
I decide to try and settle my stomach, and head on through to the buffet tables set up in the dining room. Lottie was right, Finn spared no expense for this. There’s BBQ and sliders, but also sushi, and intricate little hors d’oeuvres, enough to feed a small army. I fill a plate, then slip out to one of the side porches to sit in the dark and watch the last of the pale light while the party whir
ls on inside.
I sit back in the old swing, curling my feet underneath me. Lottie getting another year older, Delilah barreling on with her plan to take over the real estate world, it all makes me think about my own life, and how it’s barely moving at all. My job is fine, and pays the bills, and I love the work I do at the shelter, but I can’t deny the restless urge I get, clicking through Pinterest and websites late at night, looking at the million other possibilities waiting out there in the world for me.
I’ve come close to leaving a hundred times. After things got back to normal, and I felt like I was on solid ground after all the chaos of New York, I even looked up which colleges had good theatre programs nearby. I must have downloaded a dozen applications, even started filling a few out, but every time I really thought about packing my bags up and heading out again on my own, something inside me froze up. I made such a mess of things last time around, part of me is scared it’ll happen again. That I’ll make one wrong decision and send my life hurtling off track again, but this time in ways that can’t be fixed so easily.
Here in Oak Harbor, at least I know I’m doing the right thing. Sure, it’s a simple, quiet life, but I don’t wake up in the morning feeling like I have a knife in my heart and a stranger in my bed.
“Should have guessed I’d find you here.” The door opens, and Finn steps outside. “Rule number one: look for Eva in the darkest, quietest corner of any party.” He looks around. “This place is a madhouse already. How did you even find a place alone?”
“It’s a super power, I guess,” I reply lightly, but my heart stutters at the sight of him in a simple white tee shirt and threadbare jeans, good enough to eat.
“I guess we should be glad you didn’t bring a book,” Finn grins. “Then you wouldn’t notice a single thing.”
“I’m not that bad!” I protest.
He laughs. “Kidding. To tell the truth, I always envied your focus.” He takes a seat beside me on the swing and pushes off, rocking us back and forth. “Maybe I would have done better in school without all those distractions.”
“You mean girls.”
“Touché.” Finn smiles. “Lottie seems to be having a good time. I just saw her recruiting some guys to set up a karaoke machine.”
“Stop her, for all our sakes,” I laugh. “I mean, I love my sister, but the girl cannot carry a tune.” I pause, glancing over. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “For the party. You really didn’t have to go all out like this.”
“It’s nothing.” Finn waves away my praise. “She deserves it. She’s a good kid.”
“Not such a kid anymore,” I remark, feeling wistful. “I think she’s more grown up than me, sometimes. I just wish.” I stop. Finn looks over, waiting. “Just, that she’d had a chance to do something different. We all love Kit, but she used to have all these dreams, about traveling the world, or moving to LA to work in fashion. She was going to have all kinds of big adventures.”
“You mean like you were planning?” Finn takes a sip of his beer. “How did that work out for you?”
His voice is even, but still, I tense. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” He watches me, steady. “The girl I knew was ready to take a risk, just leap into the unknown.”
I fight back emotion. “Maybe you didn’t know me so well.”
“Come on.” Finn looks at me, that deep stare I couldn’t hide from if I tried. Right away I feel on trial, exposed for him to judge. “You were going to conquer the world, Eva. What happened to you?”
I swallow hard. “I hit the ground,” I tell him, and get up.
“Eva—”
“No, don’t. I get it,” I say bitterly. “You remember someone different. Someone fun, and wild, and ready to take on the world. Well, I tried, but sometimes the world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
I turn for the door, but it flies open. “Time for cake!” Delilah cries, grabbing my hand. “Come on, I bet Lottie she couldn’t blow out all twenty in one go. If she forfeits, someone’s going skinny-dipping!”
Grateful, I let Dee pull me back inside, the party enveloping me in bright noise again. But still, I can’t shake the memory of Finn just now, and that sad disappointment in his eyes. He has no right to be disappointed, none at all. If I failed to live up to all his expectations, he should share the blame, too.
It’s easy to be young and reckless when you’ve never tasted loss before.
I bite back my sadness, and force on a big smile. “Look at that cake!” I cry, joining Lottie and the crowd in the main room, clustered around the biggest three-tier chocolate cake I’ve ever seen. “Where did you even get something like that?”
“Finn had it made special order in the city.” Lottie beams. “We’re going to be eating leftovers for a week.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” Dee laughs, arm around her on the other side. She holds up her phone to take a pic. “Now everyone smile and say, ‘frosting!”
The crowd cheers and applauds as Lottie blows out the candles – every last one. “Lucky escape,” Delilah laughs. Lottie grins, her eyes going to that Sam guy.
“I don’t know, I might try the creek out – after another few drinks.”
I remember her birthday last year, how tired and stressed she was. Kit wasn’t feeding properly, and we barely had time for some takeout and five minutes of a DVD before he bawled his eyes out, demanding her harried attention again. I feel a wave of pride at how far she’s come. For all my anxiety about Finn, I’m glad she’s getting the night of fun and sparkle she deserves.
Lottie cuts into the cake, and everyone breaks out in a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’. She laughs, and takes a bow, but when the final chords die away, she hones in on Finn. “Will you play something?” she begs. “Pretty please?”
He looks bashful.
“C’mon,” Delilah joins the cause. “Just one song. You’re the big superstar, after all. And it is her birthday.”
“Guys,” I murmur, uncomfortable. “He’s done enough already.”
“It’s fine.” Finn smiles at me. “Hold on.” He leaves the room, and comes back a moment later with his guitar slung around his neck. He strums a couple of chords, and the room quiets. All eyes are on him. “Any requests?”
Lottie claps her hands together in glee. “Seriously? Oh my God. Dee,” she hisses. “You better be filming this!”
“Got it!” Delilah holds up her phone.
“Can you play ‘Sometimes’?” Lottie asks. “It’s my favorite.”
“For the birthday girl, anything.”
I watch as Finn strums the guitar, adjusting the fret, like he’s pulling on an old jacket that fits just right. Then he starts to play, a familiar melody I recognize as his first big hit. It’s sweet and slow, a melancholy song, and the notes slip through the crowded room, changing the mood in an instant.
I feel an ache. He looks so at ease, even the center of attention like this, holding that guitar like its an extension of his body, a spare limb he knows by heart.
He found the thing he loves most in the world, and he made a life of it. He made it count.
Finn opens his mouth, and that whiskey sweet voice begins to sing, deep and rich. I feel it melt all the way down my spine.
“Sometimes when the night is over, and I’m back in someone else’s bed. I think of you, and that pale sweet reflection, and I’m here wishing I was with you instead.”
He looks up, and his eyes catch mine across the room. I freeze, my heart suddenly in my throat as he sings – to me. The crowd melts away, and for a moment, it’s just the two of us, the words strung between us like a message.
Or an apology?
My pulse thunders in my ears, but I can’t look away. I never let myself believe any of his songs were about me. I couldn’t drive myself crazy looking for clues in his lyrics like that for long, but now, here, the emotion and regret of the song hit me like a bullet.
Was he really singing about me all this time?
Finn�
��s eyes are on me still, but I can’t read the expression in their ocean-blue depths. He’s a showman, I remind myself. He’s used to playing for a crowd, giving them what they want from a performance, making every woman in the room feel like he’s singing just for them.
So why does it feel like he really means it, this time?
“And I’m here wishing I was with you instead.”
The final line echoes softly, and the music drifts away. Finn gives me a smile, not the flashy, crowd-pleasure grin, but something quieter. Just for me. My emotions storm in my chest, and suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. I turn and slip through the crowd, leaving them clustered around him and cheering for more.
“Encore!” they cry, and Finn strikes up another song, this one fast, upbeat. I hurry away, heading blindly through the house until I find a quiet corner in the kitchen to hide. A couple of caterers give me a curious look, but nobody bothers me as I pull a cold bottle of water from a cooler and drink, trying to cool down.
Finn’s made it clear he wants me, my body, that inferno between us; everything he used to command with just a look, a lightning touch. But is that enough for me? Every time I’m near him, I feel swept up in this hurricane of desire. It feels inevitable, unstoppable, but I know that’s just a lie I’ve been telling to myself. If I was really determined, I could still call this whole thing off, stay away from him for real this time. Shut myself away, and avoid the heartache I can see hurtling towards me, full-speed ahead.
Except…
I pause, an ugly realization rearing from the back of my mind. Staying away from trouble makes sense, but I’ve been doing that for years, and it hasn’t changed a damn thing. I’ve tried denying it, but my friends are right: I’ve been holding on to Finn and all his heartache since the day he left. I’ve told myself I’ve moved on, but the memory of that pain has haunted me. I’ve been afraid to put my heart on the line again and risk that same devastation in the end. Sure, I’ve gone through the motions of blind dates and fix-ups, but it never lasts for long.