by Holly Jacobs
No, her mother would never say any of that, but Mattie always worried she thought it, probably because Mattie often felt as if she might believe it herself. She’d tried so many cities, so many jobs....
“Mattie, I wish you saw yourself the way I do. You are so special. Bridget saw that in you, and that’s why she left custody of the kids to you.”
Mattie didn’t comment on her specialness, or lack thereof. “Finn thinks I’m going to get tired of taking care of the kids and pack my bags and waltz off again. So do the boys. Everyone keeps watching me, as if expecting to see a suitcase in my hand.”
“I don’t,” her mother declared. “I know you think everyone’s looking at you, and they probably are.”
Mattie slumped back on the couch. “Gee, thanks, Mom.”
“But it’s not because they’re waiting for you to leave,” her mother hastened to add. “It’s that they’re as impressed as I am by the woman you’ve become.”
“A woman who hasn’t stayed in the same place for more than a year since graduation?” Mattie figured that she was looking for something, but the problem was, she didn’t have a clue what. The right job? The right place?
The right person?
Her mother took her hand. “What they see is a woman who would put her whole life aside in order to care for a friend. A woman who came home and took over for Bridget. Do you know how much comfort you gave her? She was able to die—” her mother choked on the word, but continued “—knowing her children were going to be loved and taken care of. She never doubted that you’d keep your word, that you’d stay and take care of them with all the love you’d always given her.”
“But Finn wants custody, and you and I both know, what Dr. Finn Wallace wants, he generally gets.”
Finn was taking away her chance to give Bridget this last gift. Mattie distinctly remembered meeting Bridget for the first time. It was day one of kindergarten and the teacher had announced, “Playtime.” Mattie wasn’t sure what to play with or who to play with, when a dark-haired girl with glasses that engulfed her face came over, took her hand and said, “Let’s play house.”
And that was it. That one kind gesture by another kindergartner, who must have been as nervous as she was, had won Mattie’s heart and friendship.
A friendship that had never wavered.
When her husband left her, Bridget had cried about not having anyone to grow old with. This time Mattie had taken her hand and described a scene where they were old and gray. They’d be sitting in rockers together on the front porch. Bridget would probably be blind by then—she had always been halfway to it anyway. And Mattie would be hard of hearing. But they’d have each other.
Bridget had laughed through her tears and said she knew that’s not how it would be when they got old. Mattie would be talking her into skydiving for their eightieth birthdays or something equally crazy.
Either way, Mattie had assured Bridget that she’d never be alone. The point was, they were friends and knew they’d be friends until the end.
They simply hadn’t known the end would come so soon. There would be no gray-haired skydiving or rocking on the porch for Bridget.
“What did the lawyer say?” her mother asked gently.
“I went to see the same guy Rich uses,” Mattie said, not really answering her mother’s question.
It was enough to sidetrack her mother for a minute. “Why does Rich have a lawyer?”
“I don’t know. He’s got some new business thing in the works. This guy, my attorney, told me that family law wasn’t his specialty but since I was paying for his time I might as well get his opinion.”
“And that was?” her mother pressed.
Mattie sighed and felt her eyes well up with tears she refused to shed. “He suggested arbitration. He told me to find some way to work it out with Finn because the odds aren’t in my favor. Finn’s blood family and I’m not.”
“You know that family isn’t measured by how much DNA you share,” her mother scolded. That was another Mrs. Keller-ism that her mother used. It was a shame that Finn wasn’t aware of Mrs. Keller-isms.
Mattie shook her head. “You know that, and I know that, but Dr. Finn Wallace doesn’t seem to know that. And I’m not sure the court will know it, either. Mom, no matter how much I want to fight for the kids, bankrolling a custody case, even if it goes smoothly and quickly, isn’t in the cards for me.”
After paying today’s fee, she knew the nest egg that had once felt ample wasn’t really. “I haven’t wanted to ask,” her mother said, “but didn’t Bridget leave you money for the kids?”
“Bridget had money from her parents, enough that she could have lived a lot of years without worry. But her illness took a big bite out of those savings. And what’s left is in a trust for the kids. I have access to it for their expenses, but I don’t want to touch it at all.” It felt like that money was their mother’s last gift to them. Bridget had college dreams for the kids, and that was their avenue toward achieving them.
“And I’d never touch any of it for something like this,” Mattie added. “This is between me and Finn.”
“So what are you going to do?” That was her mom in a nutshell—offer some sympathy, and then get to the heart of the matter and encourage some positive action.
Unfortunately, Mattie couldn’t think of any positive action. She could give up, let Finn take the kids and leave Valley Ridge. He’d move them to Buffalo, away from everyone and everything they knew and loved.
If Mattie gave the kids to him she would be betraying her final promise to Bridget. Still, if she thought it was best for the kids, she’d consider it. But she didn’t think it was best for them. Being in their home, surrounded by the continuity of the familiar—that was what was best for them.
So, she could stay and fight a legal battle with money she didn’t have for an outcome that probably wouldn’t be in her favor. Or she could...she wasn’t sure what to do anymore.
“Mattie, you’ve never been shy of a fight response,” her mother said. “Do you remember Hermie Walker?”
Mattie smiled at the memory, although at the time, it hadn’t seemed funny at all. “How could I forget Hermie? After I got done with him I bet he never tried to look at another girl’s underwear again, the little perv.” She reached for her mom’s hand. “Thanks for bailing me out.”
“It was my pleasure, dear.” Her mom grinned.
“There’s a picture of him in the yearbook sporting that split lip.” Mattie chuckled. “I’m a pacifist by nature, and I shouldn’t feel pride at that, but...”
Her mom patted her knee. “I’ll confess—I love that picture, too.”
“Mom, you’re kind of bloodthirsty.” She paused. “And it looks good on you.”
They both laughed and then her mother said, “I don’t think decking Finn Wallace would be a good plan. And we’ve already established that you can’t—won’t—leave. So?”
“Mom...” Mattie didn’t know. That’s why she’d come to her mother, trusting that she would point her in the right direction. Her mother didn’t disappoint. “Fight, flight, or there’s a third option.”
Mattie knew what her mom was encouraging. She’d probably known it all along, but she didn’t like it. This was the option the lawyer had suggested, and in her heart, she knew it made the most sense, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was even harder because Finn had asked to talk to her again and she’d turned him down, telling him she’d let the lawyers hand
le it. If she had unlimited wealth, that’s what she’d do, but she didn’t. “So I talk to him again?”
Her mother nodded. “So you talk to him again. And if you two can’t talk it out, you try arbitration and let someone else facilitate the talking.”
“It is the logical thing to do. I guess I knew that all along,” she admitted. But knowing and acting on something were two very different things.
“I know you did—sometimes you like to hear people say things out loud. On that note, let me say this out loud—you are what those kids need, and if Finn Wallace can’t see that...if he can’t see that Bridget’s children need to stay here in Valley Ridge, among people who love them, that they need you...well, I’d be happy to let him know.”
Despite her fear of letting down Bridget and the kids, she smiled. “Like I said, you’re kind of bloodthirsty, Mom.”
“But it looks good on me, right?”
“Right.”
Her mother hugged her and Mattie knew that her mother believed in her. Her mom truly thought this would all work out. And for that one moment, Mattie could almost believe it, too.
Almost.
* * *
“ALMOST DONE,” FINN SAID the next day. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“The woman’s been on hold for ten minutes now, Doctor.” The receptionist’s disapproval was evident in her tone.
Finn pushed the paperwork back and picked up the phone. He stared at the three lit-up numbers and looked up.
“Line one,” she said, understanding his unasked question.
He punched the corresponding button and said, “Hello?”
“I was about to hang up.”
He didn’t need the person to introduce herself. “Mattie.”
“Yes. I was wondering if you’re still planning to come back to town this weekend.”
He glanced at the paperwork he’d been going over. “Yes.”
“Then is there any way you and I could meet without the kids present?”
He heard an April Fools’ in the background that could only have been Mickey, followed by a high-pitched scream from Abbey that was punctuated by Zoe’s sarcasm. “Be quiet. It’s not April Fools’ until Friday.”
“I gotta practice,” Mickey hollered.
“No you don’t need to practice, Mick. Abbey, enough screaming. And thank you, Zoe,” Mattie said, her voice muffled by what he suspected was her hand over the receiver. “That was much more polite than shut up.”
“But neither work, do they?” Zoe shouted so loudly no one could muffle it.
“Sorry,” Mattie, unmuffled, said.
“So what you’re saying is, you don’t think my nieces and nephew are conducive to a quiet conversation?”
He heard a small sound that might have been a chuckle, but he couldn’t be sure because Mattie’s voice was all business as she said, “Not conducive at all.”
“I assume you’ve seen a lawyer?” He hated forcing Mattie to hire an attorney. He knew how much it cost. Hell, he hated taking the question of the kids’ custody into a legal realm, but he didn’t have any options. He’d presented Mattie with perfectly sound arguments as to why he should have custody and that hadn’t worked.
“Yes, I saw a lawyer.” She sounded defeated. More than that, she sounded hurt.
And while that boded well for Finn’s custody fight, he felt immensely guilty that he was the one who’d hurt her.
The sooner they got this settled, the sooner Mattie could get back to her life, bumping around from one thing to the next. She could visit the kids as often as she liked. He’d make sure she understood that he didn’t want to drive her out of their lives entirely. But he was the better choice for a day-to-day guardian.
“I’m—” He started to say he was sorry, but thought better of it. “When did you want to meet?”
“The kids have a fun night at school on Friday night. I’m pretty sure I can find someone else to take them. I thought you and I could meet here and—”
“What time?”
“Six?” she asked.
“Why don’t we meet at the diner instead?” he countered. Then to sweeten the pot, he added, “I’ll spring for dinner.”
“Big spender,” she said, and rather than anger, he thought there was a hint of humor in her voice. “Fine.”
“I’ll meet you there on Friday at six then.”
“Thank you.”
“And, Mattie, as long as we’re being civil, could I possibly have the kids for a few hours on Saturday? Just me and them?” He knew it was the practical thing to do. He had to help the kids get accustomed to spending time with him.
“I’m supposed to be working on invitations and plans for Sophie’s shower, so that will be fine. How about in the afternoon? We’re establishing that Saturday-morning routine, remember? The pickup party, shopping and lunch, then fun. It seems to be working and I hate to disrupt it.”
“The afternoon is fine. I might even pitch in with the pickup. Rumor has it that I can Dyson with the best of them.” He used his sister’s term as he made the offer and he smiled at the memory.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you Friday night.”
“It’s a date,” he said.
This time there was no disguising what she felt. Mattie snorted. “As if.” There was an audible click as she hung up.
Finn placed the phone back on its dock and stared at the papers in front of him, then before he could change his mind, he pulled them forward and scrawled his signature at the bottom.
Which meant, his weekends had officially gotten easier.
He picked up his phone and punched in a Valley Ridge number. “JoAnn, it’s Finn. I’d like to book a room Friday and Saturday nights for...” He paused, wondering how long this new idea would take. “Well, for the foreseeable future. Until I give you notice.”
CHAPTER SIX
FRIDAY HAD STARTED with a bang for Mattie...literally. The shop’s cappuccino machine made a loud noise and died in a smoky blaze of glory after disgorging an entire cup of cappuccino so quickly that it splashed onto Mattie. She wasn’t burned, but her skin was red and tender.
There was a steady stream of customers for the rest of the morning, and an inordinate number of cappuccino orders despite the sign she posted that said Sorry, no cappuccinos.
She took the machine’s demise as an omen. No matter what her lawyer and mother both said, this meeting with Finn tonight was not going to go well.
She wasn’t someone who generally believed in things like omens, but she didn’t think it took a psychic connection to know how talking it out with Finn would turn out.
Feeling uncharacteristically pessimistic, she went straight home after her shift but before the kids were home from school. She still felt nervous on days they walked there and back, but Bridget had insisted it was okay.
“Hey, Aunt Mattie, guess what?” Mickey asked as he burst through the front door.
“What?” she asked obligingly.
“We don’t got no homework this weekend!” Mickey shouted.
“You don’t have any homework,” she corrected him. Then she paused, noticing his expression. There was something in it that made Mattie ask, “Really?”
“No.” He bent over laughing. “We really do got homework. April Fools’!”
“That’s a stupid April Fools’,” Zoe grumbled.
“Nu-uh, you’re stupid,” Mickey informed her.
“We don’t use words like stupid, rem
ember?” Mattie warned. “That’s a quarter each in the jar.”
Zoe dug a handful of change out of her pocket and promptly stomped her way into the kitchen and deposited a quarter. Mickey looked hopeful. “I don’t got no quarters left, so I can’t put one in.”
“You don’t have any quarters left,” she repeated. “Then you’ll have to owe the jar a quarter on allowance day tomorrow.”
“Oh.” His face fell. “Okay.”
Feeling as if she’d averted something, Mattie turned to Abbey, who was sitting on the floor painstakingly untying her double-knotted shoe.
Mattie knew that if she helped, it would be quicker, but Bridget used to tell her that she’d rather let the kids work out what they could on their own. It was a good way for them to learn.
What would Bridget do?
This was an easy one. Mattie shoved her hands into her jeans’ pockets and asked, “How was your day, sweetie?”
“John Michael kissed me and said April Fools’.” To emphasize her thoughts on John Michael, Abbey frowned. “But I didn’t like it, so I pushed him. We both went in time-out and didn’t get no cookies for snack.”
“You didn’t get any cookies? I’m sorry. No one should kiss you if you don’t want to be kissed, but pushing people is never the way to handle things.” She wasn’t sure if she should tack on a punishment at home.
Abbey nodded her head seriously and said, “Yeah, no more pushing, I promise.”
Well, Bridget wasn’t here to ask, and she’d be darned if she’d call and ask Finn his opinion. Since the teacher hadn’t informed her about the matter, she decided to let the school punishment suffice.
It sounded as if everyone’s day had been as good as her own. “Listen, you all don’t have a lot of time. Sophie and Lily are coming to get you for Fun Night soon. And Uncle Finn has asked to take you all out tomorrow.” She tried to insert a degree of enthusiasm in her voice when she mentioned Finn, but she wasn’t sure she quite managed it.