Katie faced him, her eyebrows raised. “Really? That’s one of my favorites,” she said.
“I figured.”
“But you…”
“One of my favorites too. I like Tom Hanks. Been watching him since he was on ‘Bosom Buddies.’ A bit before your time.”
“No, I used to watch that,” Katie said as she put in the tape and grabbed the remotes. “‘Family Ties’ too. And ‘Splash,’ have you seen it?”
“Are you kidding? Hanks, Hannah, Candy, and Levy? Of course.”
They laughed together as Katie settled herself next to him. Katie scooted and shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable. After a while, Fin eyed her.
“I don’t want to embarrass myself again, but, if you’re uncomfortable, Rose tells me I make a great pillow.” Fin splayed his arm across the back of the couch, grinning. She really shouldn’t do that, but she did. She moved closer to him, leaning her head into the crook of his shoulder, her legs next to his as they stretched out, their feet on the coffee table. She made sure to keep her hands on her own legs, though. “Better?”
“Yes, thanks,” Katie said with a grin. She meant it. All troubles faded when she nestled against him.
They laughed more than Katie ever had at the movie, which she’d seen several times, exchanged comments about the plot, or the actors, or how Maureen resembled Deborah Kerr from “An Affair to Remember.” Fin didn’t shift around or get up, as Michael always did. He lounged, warm and inviting, next to Katie. Mostly Katie relaxed too, though sometimes she glanced at Fin or brushed against him and she tingled all over, tensing when she tried to stop. As the movie ended, Katie sat up. Fin faced her.
“Do you know you have the prettiest hair? Reminds me of hills here in summer, all golden brown, the color shifting on the gentle curves.” He touched her hair so lightly she almost didn’t feel it.
Katie trembled. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to lean in and kiss him. But he was Fin. She knew what he was like. Fergus and Maureen had told her how he charmed women, but was never serious. He was only interested in one thing. She licked her bottom lip, starting to imagine that thing with Fin. She pinched her thigh as hard as she could and winced.
Fin chuckled. “Here I thought that was a right nice compliment.”
“The nicest ever.” Katie bit her lip at her tone, which sounded like Marilyn Monroe singing “Happy Birthday” to President Kennedy.
Fin’s eyes held hers. He leaned toward her as if he would kiss her. Clearing his throat, he edged back and faced away. Katie swallowed and scooted further from him.
“I never realized where Rose got her coloring from--you,” Fin said.
“Sometimes people think she’s my daughter. It really irritates Maureen. Thankfully, she doesn’t have much else like me.”
“She’d be lucky to be like you. Any road, you’re wrong.”
“Am I? She has Maureen’s confidence and Fergus’s smarts.” Katie fingered the green floral sofa cushion.
“But she’s also silly and loving, like you.”
Katie colored but laughed when Fin’s cheeks turned reddish. “Thanks, but I can’t take credit.”
“Why do you--” Fin began, leaning toward her again. He froze when the side door opened.
“What the hell?” Katie’s dad exclaimed. Fin stood and turned to the door. He smoothed his black Dockers and checked the tuck on his blue polo shirt. “Why Fin Dunbar! What a pleasure, me boy! It’s been a long time. How are you?”
Fin met her dad in the wide doorway to the kitchen, exchanging handshakes and a quick hug. Her mom beamed, her round cheeks plumped in a broad smile, hugging Fin, patting his cheek.
“Good to see you, Fin,” she said. “When did you get in?”
“Earlier today. My parents weren’t home, so I came straight to see Rose. I’m glad to see you too.”
“I bet she was thrilled. Katie feed you?”
“Yes, thanks. She’s a wonderful cook, your daughter.”
“She is indeed,” her dad said while her mom went to the sink.
“How old is the coffee, Katie?” she said.
“Couple hours.” Katie joined her mom.
“I wouldn’t touch her pizza, though,” her dad continued. “You should try her pot roast. That’ll do you a treat.”
“I hope to be so lucky,” Fin said, glancing at Katie, who lowered her eyes.
Her mom poured out the coffee, starting a fresh pot. “Would you like some coffee and cookies, Fin? Katie and Rose made oatmeal raisin yesterday.”
“I should probably go.”
“Nonsense,” her dad said. “It’s only ten. Your parents won’t be home until tomorrow, right?”
Fin nodded. Katie placed some cookies on a plate and set them on the table where her father sat, motioning Fin to do the same.
“You’re welcome to spend the night here, if you like,” her mom put in.
“Thanks, but my things are at my parents’,” Fin said as he sat. He grabbed a cookie. “My favorite.” He took a bite, briefly smiling. “Delicious, thanks, Katie.”
Katie pinched herself again to keep from grinning.
“Been stuck here with Katie all evening?” her dad said. Katie’s stomach dropped. “You could have come down to the pub.”
“Thanks, another time.” Fin’s eyes bored into Katie. She turned and got the sugar bowl and milk jug.
“Anytime,” her dad said. “So, how’d you leave the old place? We haven’t been there in twenty years, eh, Mavis?”
“Was that when Katie and Maureen stayed with us at our old house in the city?” Fin said.
“What’re you talking about?” Katie said before her dad could reply. He and her mom glanced at each other. Katie thought they’d never met the Dunbars until she was fourteen.
Fin’s brow furrowed. “I guess you wouldn’t remember. You were only three.”
“So--” Katie’s dad said.
“So tell me about it,” Katie said. Another family secret.
“I was nine, Fergus seven, Maureen a feisty five-year-old. She gave as good as she got, but you…well, Fergus wouldn’t let anyone bother you. He’d always wanted a little sister.”
“He’s a good man, Fergus is,” her dad said. “So’s Katie’s Michael. Have you heard Katie’s engaged?” Fin nodded. “The wedding’s in five weeks. If you’re still here, we’d love to have you, eh, Katie?”
“About that, Dad.” Katie wanted to know more about having stayed with the Dunbars when she was a little girl, but obviously her dad didn’t want to talk about the past, as usual.
“Oh, lord, not again. I don’t suppose you’ve heard about my daughter, Fin. Can’t stick with anything.”
Fin watched her. She wished for an earthquake or something, though Fin had shaken her enough.
“Now, Pat, we’ll talk to Katie tomorrow,” her mom said. “Let’s enjoy this visit with Fin.”
Katie quietly left as her dad and Fin started talking about Ireland. She tiptoed upstairs, entered her room, and watched Rose for a moment. The blanket covering her little body rose and fell ever so slightly. Katie’s limbs softened, thinking how much she loved Rose. Nothing could happen with Fin, anyway, it might hurt Rose. As could this Michael thing. Surely Maureen hadn’t cheated on Fergus. It wouldn’t be surprising, though—Maureen had never been satisfied with her life, frequently claiming she wasn’t getting what she deserved.
Katie stared out the window. Rose liked the curtain left open a couple inches. The sky glowed a hazy dark blue, too dark to see. She had to know the truth. She had to talk to Fin again. Unless Michael would tell her, but that would have to wait until tomorrow, he’d probably call before church. Katie rubbed her stomach and plodded back downstairs.
Chapter Three
Fin ran his finger around the inside of the handle of his mug. Pat’s leg bounced under the table, shaking it slightly. Mavis bustled around behind him, even though Fin knew the kitchen was clean. Katie had seen to that. None of them were how he remembere
d from eight years before. Pat had been jovial, Mavis easy going, Katie an awkward, quiet teenager.
“You say the old place is gone?” Pat said after the tense silence.
“An American family bought my mom’s family home and they own the land where your families’ cottages were.” Rose had run up the hills, laughing, her hair streaming in the breeze. Someday he wanted to take his children there…Fin crossed his arms. He was a confirmed bachelor, only an uncle, not a dad.
“Never were much to look at,” Pat said.
“They were close to my mom’s. I’m surprised you all didn’t know each other better.”
“We kept to our own.”
“You too Mavis?” Fin said. He’d never cared much about the past but the last year he’d begun to wonder if it wasn’t time to unearth more of the truth.
“I was hardly there,” Mavis said. She reorganized the refrigerator. “I spent most of my childhood with my aunt and uncle on their farm then went to college in Cork.” She placed the milk back on the shelf and shut the door. “Fin, Katie doesn’t need to know--”
“What don’t I need to know?” Katie asked as she appeared in the doorway. She crossed her arms. The sour look on her face reminded Fin of Maureen telling him how the kids used to tease Katie, calling her dill pickle Dillon. And that was the least of it. She was much prettier when she smiled; her sweet face brightened and her eyes sparkled like the sunrise reflected in a glistening creek. Prettier than any Cinderella, even when she frowned. He scooted back around and faced Pat, who scowled.
“It’s not important,” Mavis said. “Rose all right?”
“Yes,” Katie said. “I didn’t know we knew the Dunbars before they moved here. I mean, I know you knew of Mary, but…you knew them in San Francisco?”
“Only a little,” Mavis said.
“You left your three- and five-year-old daughters with someone you only knew a little? So you could vacation in Ireland?”
“It wasn’t a vacation. My mother had died and your aunt Aleen and I--”
“What about Dad?”
“Enough questions,” Pat said as he scraped his chair out. “We’d better get to bed. Rose’ll be up early and there’s church. Good to see you, Fin.” Pat nodded at him and Fin stood to shake his hand. Mavis hugged him again. They all stood near Katie, who hadn’t moved. She blocked the doorway. She had her dad’s stubbornness, Fin guessed. “Say goodnight,” Pat commanded.
Katie’s shoulders sagged. No wonder she ran herself down--Pat treated her like a disobedient puppy. “Night,” she said. Her light brown eyes were flecked with gold and green like a sandy creek bed and just as full of hidden treasures if Fin searched long enough. Her mom hugged her waist and led her out into the hall. Pat and Fin followed. Katie and Mavis walked up the stairs as Pat opened the front door for Fin.
“Maybe we’ll see you soon,” Pat said.
“Sure.” Fin caught a last glimpse of Katie’s petite, curvy self as she trudged onto the landing. He wouldn’t let himself look longer. Waving, he walked to Maggie’s Honda Accord. She’d been kind enough to let him borrow it, but she needed it back in the morning. Maggie’d be going to church too. His whole life, Maggie’d been with his family, their housekeeper, cook, and nursemaid, but no matter what, she never missed church. For once, he wanted to go. How much better to sit in church and watch Katie than face his parents. He slammed the car door. Better not to notice Katie at all. He was in enough trouble with Fergus and their father.
While he drove to his parents’, his mind catalogued all the times his father blamed him or they fought. Too many to remember and it distracted him. He wasn’t sure of his way around and Maggie’d had to draw him a map. Fin had only lived in the area for a few years before his father sent him to Ireland. Back home, really, for Fin had lived the first six years of his life in Cork. Fourteen years in San Francisco, three in Menlo Park. Now almost eight again in Cork. Cork and San Francisco were even, but neither was home. Fin had never felt at home anywhere. A needling discomfort always made him itchy to move on, yet he never did.
He hit the steering wheel after making another wrong turn. Holding the map, he concentrated on righting his wrong moves.
The next morning, he woke in his old room, alone. He rubbed his eyes and tried to forget the vivid dream he’d had. But for once, when he didn’t want them to, the images stayed in his head, as if they were real memories. Knowing his parents would be home soon, he showered and dressed before repacking his bags and setting them by the massive oak front door.
“Home late, were you?” Maggie asked when he strolled into the kitchen, about twice the size of the Dillons’ cozy kitchen. He kissed her cheek then waggled his eyebrows. Maggie laughed. “You’ll never change, you young rapscallion. Just so as it wasn’t our Katie girl. Miss Mary thinks the world of her and your father and Fergus aren’t far behind.”
“Something smells delicious.” Shit, what was his problem? The one girl he shouldn’t want, not only because his family’d blackball him, but also because of his own record with women. Katie needed someone more stable and upstanding. The front door slammed, smashing his appetite.
“Sit down and I’ll make you a plate,” Maggie said. Her pillowy body maneuvered around the stove like a dancer, graceful and strong.
“Maggie!” his father shouted. “Is he here?” His father’s heavy footsteps pounded into the kitchen.
“James, please,” his mother pleaded as she followed him in.
“Sir.” Fin nodded to his father, who stopped and frowned. He hadn’t changed, still appeared as self-satisfied as ever. “Mam,” he said. He enfolded his mother in his arms. He hadn’t remembered her being so thin. Her light eyes roamed over his face while she touched his cheek with her fingertips, so cold. He took her hands in his to warm them.
“It’s been too long. I should see my oldest son more than once every few years.”
“Sorry,” he said. He shrugged apologetically.
She patted his cheek. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t want to travel. And I know you’ve been busy.” Her fingers trembled as she smoothed her frizzled pale golden hair.
His father snorted. A plate tapped onto the table. Maggie stood, arms akimbo. Fin smiled and rubbed his mother’s arms. “Best get it over,” Fin said. “Sorry, Maggie. Thanks anyway but Mr. Dunbar and I have business.”
“You should eat your breakfast,” his mom said, glancing at his father.
“I’ll be fine,” Fin said.
He followed his father into his study. Fin’s new loafers squeaked across the hardwood floor of the foyer, echoing into the high ceiling. His father’s old leather desk chair creaked while Fin shut the door. Fin sat across from the desk in one of the leather wing chairs. They were supposed to be comfortable, but Fin tensed, feeling like when his grandfather Dunbar locked him in the closet when he was a small boy because he’d done something to displease the old man. The same leather and oil soap smell seeped into him.
“I take full responsibility,” Fin said.
“As usual, your brother’s already stepped in. I should never have promoted you.”
“The facility was doing well. It was one incident.”
“In which a man almost got killed because you let one of your mates get away with too much, didn’t hold him accountable.” His father leaned forward, his hands steepled. “But I’m not so easy a mark. I’d cut you loose, but your mother and brother want me to give you another chance. This is the last time. You can go back and start again at the bottom. We’ll garner your wages to pay for Callahan’s settlement. Maybe if you settled down you’d change. But no decent woman would take you on in that hole you live in.” He eased back and waved his hand.
Fin rose, his limbs coursing with heat. “One, I don’t need your lousy job. Two, I can write you a check for the settlement right now. Three, why would I want to get married? Never seen any good come from it for anyone.” Except Rose, of course, though she wasn’t the result of marriage, only the cause of one.
“What do you know? Always down the pub chasing tail. Or maybe at the office too? Where’d you get that kind of money, Fin? Skimming a little off with that last accountant we hired?”
“I admit we had a fling, so what? But, you know, I won’t bother.” Even Fin’s lips felt hot. “I haven’t stolen anything. I didn’t need to. As to women, I suppose you’d rather I married someone like…Katie Dillon, huh? Why, so I could cheat on her like you did on mom?” Why couldn’t he have thought of someone else besides Katie? So he’d dreamed about her last night. It didn’t mean anything.
His father slammed his hand onto the desk and stood. “Keep your hands off Katie. She’s like a daughter to your mother and me. And not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been faithful to the woman I love for the last twenty years.”
Certain Sure Page 3