Good Times

by Kate, Jiffy

  “He didn’t tell me,” Shep says, confirming my thought. “But knowing that was on his mind, in addition to the call about Maggie, explains why he was in such a panic.”

  My heart breaks for Finley even more now. “And, now knowing what’s been going on with Maggie... Gah, it’s all so terrible. Are you sure she’ll be okay?”

  “That’s what Finn told me late last night… or well, early this morning,” Shep says with a sigh.

  “Wait, he called you?” I ask, feeling the hurt seep in.

  Shep’s hands go up again in surrender. “No, I called the hospital and they put me through to Maggie’s room,” he clarifies. “I couldn’t sleep and I hadn’t heard from him. With the little bit of information I had before he left, I knew Maggie should’ve been out of surgery, so I called. He told me his phone went dead while he was in the airport and then when he finally got a chance to charge it, he’d tried to reach you but you didn’t answer. He just didn’t want to leave a voice message about something like this.”

  I sigh, wishing I had heard my phone ring and needing to hear Finley’s voice now more than ever. “That sounds like Finley,” I whisper, wiping at the moisture under my eyes.

  “It was probably after three o’clock this morning when he finally got to sleep,” Shep says, sounding weary. “I told him I would come over first thing this morning and tell you everything. He’ll call, I promise.”

  Falling back down on the couch, I pull my knees to my chest. “Okay.”

  “Don’t ever doubt how crazy that kid is about you,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You’re his whole world.”

  I try to give him my best smile, but my heart is too sad for that.

  “I really appreciate you coming over here and letting me know about Maggie… and Finn.”

  “No problem,” he says, walking toward the door. “Try not to worry, okay?”

  Easier said than done.

  “I’m not sure how long he’ll be gone,” Shep continues. “But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me or CeCe.”

  “Thanks, Shep.”

  Once he’s gone, I finally allow the relief I feel to flow throughout my body. I hate hearing about Maggie, but feel better knowing where Finn is and that he’s not upset with me. As soon as he calls me and I can hear his voice, all will be right again.

  Until then, I’ll wait.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Finley

  Around eight this morning, Maggie regained consciousness. I hadn’t really been to sleep, but her voice jolted me, making me jump from the bed. When I got to her side, she was trying to speak around the ventilator, but I stopped her, assuring her she was fine. The second our eyes met, and she realized it was me in the room with her, tears started forming. But I smiled, fighting back my emotions and telling her she was fine, everything was going to be fine.

  I’ve never seen Maggie cry and the mere idea made my heart crack a little in my chest.

  When I buzzed for the nurses, they came right away and gave her something to help her continue to rest. Once she was comfortable again, I tried to sleep, having not had any except for my nap on the plane, but it was impossible.

  Aunt Stella came in around nine and insisted I lay down and rest. I guess it was a combination of someone else being in the room and total exhaustion, because I finally passed out on the makeshift bed and apparently slept like the dead.

  Rubbing my eyes, I try to stretch, but can’t due to the size of the couch. My neck is locked up and I can’t tell from the amount of light in the room what time it is… or what day. Glancing across the room, I see that Maggie is sleeping. The beeps and hisses of the machines are the same, which I’m taking is a good sign.

  The nurses assured me if something went wrong, everyone would know it.

  Sitting across the room, in the chair beside Maggie’s bed, Aunt Stella runs a needle and thread through a piece of fabric. When she hears me rustling around, her eyes find me. “Good morning,” she says with a soft smile. “I left you a sandwich and coffee on the window ledge. The coffee might be cold, but there’s a microwave in the waiting area down the hall.”

  Pulling myself up to a sitting position, I rub my face, trying to wake myself up.

  “How is she?” I ask, standing to walk over to Maggie’s bedside. “Has the doctor been back?”

  She places what she’s working on down in an open bag on the floor and stands, walking over and taking Maggie’s hand in hers. “He did, just for a few minutes, but he didn’t have any more news than what he gave you last night. Rest is most important right now, so they’re keeping her comfortable and trying to let her body mend.”

  “What time is it?” I ask, my voice raspy from sleep and emotion.

  Aunt Stella clears her throat and glances down at the dainty gold band on her wrist. “A little after five. If you weren’t awake in an hour, I was going to wake you. You need to eat, Finley. I know you traveled for hours yesterday and haven’t had anything since you’ve been at the hospital.”

  I try to give her a smile, appreciating her concern, but my heart is so heavy for the woman lying on the bed between us. Taking inventory of Maggie, I notice her color is a little better than last night, but all the wires and tubes are still in place.

  “Did they say how long she’ll need the ventilator?” I ask, taking Maggie’s hand in mine.

  “The nurse said they’ll try to take it out first thing in the morning. They wanted to wait a full twenty-four hours after surgery, but that won’t be until tonight. She said it’d be best to wait.”

  Waiting… I’m chalking that up there with flying and hospitals. I feel like I’ve been in limbo ever since...

  Jette.

  Letting go of Maggie’s hand, I turn to find my phone still plugged in where I left it.

  “Aunt Stella, I have to go make a call,” I tell her, my heart pumping. I hope Shep kept his word and at least went and told Jette what happened, but I haven’t spoken to her since walking out of the gallery nearly twenty-four hours ago and it’s killing me.

  “Take your time,” she says, sitting back down in her chair. “Maggie and I will just be here cross-stitching, don’t worry about us.”

  Clutching my phone tightly, like it’s a lifeline to Jette, I make my way down the hall and into the waiting area I was in last night. But unlike last night, it’s full of visitors. Seeing a stairway beside the bank of elevators, I decide to take it, hoping for some privacy.

  As I walk down to the first landing, my hands are practically vibrating while I’m dialing Jette’s number and waiting for her to answer. It’s only been a little over a day since I last spoke to her, but everything was such a mess… and I left her.

  And then there’s Maggie.

  And I’m not sure my heart can take much more if she doesn’t…

  “Hello?” she says, finally answering the phone and sounding out of breath. “Finley?”

  “Jette,” I reply, closing my eyes as I slump against the cold, concrete wall. My breaths echo off the vacuous space. “God, I…”

  “I’m so sorry,” Jette says, filling the void of my thoughts. “I’m so sorry about Maggie. How is she?” Her intake of breath tells me she’s feeling as emotional as I am right now and all I want to do is reach through the phone and pull her into me, bring her here.

  I need her.

  “She’s a fighter,” I tell her, swiping under my eye then wiping the moisture on my jeans. Running a hand through my hair, I begin to pace the small landing. “She had surgery last night, it was late… I’m so sorry I didn’t call earlier. So sorry, you have no idea… When I got the call about Maggie, I had literally just walked out of the gallery and had every intention of waiting for you outside. My intent was to give you some space and I needed some air.”

  Pausing, I chuckle, not out of humor really, just the absurdity of this whole ordeal.

  “I get it,” she says, her voice between a plea and prayer. “Please, don’t worry about me. And don’t even
think about what you walked in on yesterday… it’s over. It was over, long before then, you know that. But I also want to say thank you.”

  “For what?” I ask, turning back to the wall and letting it hold me up.

  “For being wonderful and selfless. For standing up for me yesterday and pouring your heart out. Those words, what you said, they were everything, Finley.”

  Her voice cracks and I press a fist to my forehead, wishing I could split myself in two, part of me staying here with Maggie and the other part running as fast as I can back to my girl. “Don’t cry,” I beg her. “Please, don’t cry. I can’t take it, especially knowing I can’t be there to do anything about it.”

  “Sorry,” she says, sniffling and I can just picture her expression as she puts on a brave face, squaring her shoulders. Jette might be small, but she’s mighty, and I know we’re going to be okay. “Just do me one favor.”

  “Anything,” I tell her.

  “Come back to me.”

  “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” I tell her, pressing the phone closer to my ear, wishing it was her. “As soon as I know Maggie is going to be okay, I’ll be back.”

  We both just listen to the other breathe for a few moments. Eventually, someone walks up the stairs, barely acknowledging me, but it’s enough to bring me out of my Jette-induced haze.

  “I need to get back to Maggie’s room,” I tell her. “But I’ll call you.” It’s a promise.

  “Hey, Finn,” Jette says softly. “I love you.”

  Those words cause pieces of my heart to fall back into place. I’d rather say them to her face and follow it up with actions, showing her just how much, but I’ll take what I can get for now.

  “I love you too… always.”

  There was never a time I didn’t love Georgette. I think even before we met, my heart knew she was out there somewhere and it was always searching, until a fateful day when she walked over to a fountain and sat down beside me, changing the trajectory of my life.

  Chapter Thirty

  Georgette

  “Let’s go, King. Time to earn our bacon.”

  At the word bacon, his adorable ears perk up. “I know, buddy. Me too. Let’s go see what CeCe has for us this morning.”

  On our way down the steps and out to the sidewalk, Shaw peeks out his front door and grabs the newspaper, waving. Shirtless.

  I’ve never once questioned why Avery is with that man.

  Yes, I’m taken… so freaking taken, but I can still appreciate a fine specimen like Shaw O’Sullivan. Actually, Shepard Rhys-Jones falls into that category too. When I was younger, I had a bit of a crush on Shep, but that was before I met Finley.

  It’s kind of strange to think about knowing Shep longer than Finley, but our connection to each other was distant, through our parents. I didn’t really get to know Shep until Finley. At first, I thought he was like everyone else I grew up with—money-hungry and self-absorbed—but quickly realized he wasn’t.

  That also goes for his best friend, Maverick, who I haven’t seen a lot of since moving to New Orleans. According to the few conversations I’ve had with Carys, he stays busy with the hotel and the properties he and Shep buy and sell. They’ve created a lucrative business for themselves, but the thing I love most is it’s not all about the money.

  They truly care about the community and seem to take on beautification projects more than anything, finding ways to make old buildings useful.

  I honestly can’t thank Shep enough for giving me the contact information for the townhouse.

  “Wait,” I tell King as we come to the corner. “Always look both ways.”

  My morning walks to work were lonely for the first few days Finn was gone, so I bit the bullet and called in a favor to my boss, asking if I could bring King to work. I promised Cami he’d be on his best behavior, but she didn’t seem too concerned about it, telling me she thought it was a great idea and that clients would love him.

  They do.

  And so far, we haven’t had any mishaps.

  Except for his dirty paws. The first day I brought him, I found myself spot cleaning our gleaming white floor several times. One stop on Amazon for dog shoes, and problem solved.

  It took an entire evening of us walking around the neighborhood with them before he stopped looking like a Clydesdale, taking big, wide steps. But he got used to them and I feel better about him traipsing around the Quarter with them on.

  It protects his little paws and my white floors at the gallery.

  Win, win.

  Walking in front of the cathedral, I look up and then back over at Jackson Square. It’s really breath-taking this time of morning. Without Finley here to give me a reason to stay in bed, King and I are usually out the door a couple of hours earlier than I normally would be. But that’s okay. It gives us plenty of time to walk to Neutral Grounds, chat with CeCe, and sometimes Shep is there and has an update on Maggie.

  “Good morning,” CeCe calls as we walk in the door. My eyes drift to the stairs leading to Finn’s apartment, just like they do every morning. I’ve come close to asking CeCe if I can just go up there and sit and feel close to him, but I don’t. It’s fine. He’ll be home eventually.

  Until then, I have King… and two of Finn’s t-shirts I found in a duffel bag from the club. They were probably sweaty when he took them off and I should probably wash them, but not until he’s home. Call me crazy, but they smell like him and sometimes at night, it’s all I need to feel close to him before falling asleep.

  That and his late-night phone calls.

  However, those sometimes amp me up instead of sedate me. Sometimes, Finn goes to the stairwell to call me and with no one around, our conversations turn from PG to rated R pretty quickly.

  “Hey,” CeCe says, setting a few drinks on the counter. I’m assuming they’re to-go orders because no one else is in the shop at the moment. Shep recently hooked CeCe up with her very own app, which I have downloaded and use frequently.

  It’s cool. You can order to-go, earn points toward free coffee, and eventually, when the roastery is in full-swing, you’ll be able to order coffee beans and have them delivered to your front door.

  “Good morning, King,” CeCe coos, walking around the corner with the now-familiar cup in hand. The second he sees her, and the cup, his tail wags so hard it swishes into my skirt and practically lifts it up to my waist.

  “Hey!” I exclaim, smoothing my skirt down and relinquishing the leash to CeCe.

  She laughs, bending down to let him lick the whipped cream out of the cup. “He’s just excited, aren’t you, baby? Aunt CeCe has the goods… isn’t that right?”

  Have I mentioned my dog is spoiled?

  Finn keeps telling me he’ll be ruined by the time he makes it home. I hate to break it to him, but he’s probably right. Actually, it’s probably already too late.

  “Aunt CeCe baked you some goodies,” she says, still kneeling down at King’s level, petting his head. “Yummy breakfast goodies… with bacon.”

  His tail wagging speeds up so fast I think he’s going to take flight.

  “You’re going to make him… fat,” I say, whispering the last word so I don’t offend.

  CeCe stands, smiling wide. “Nah, he’s getting all the extra exercise walking to work, he deserves some treats. “And so do you. I packed you both a lunch.”

  Rolling my eyes, I walk up to the counter and watch as CeCe goes about making my coffee.

  When the door opens again, I turn and see Shep walking in, looking like he walked straight out of GQ Magazine—a well-tailored suit I know cost a fortune, shoes that shine against the worn floor of the coffee shop, and hair in a perfect state of disarray.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” CeCe says, placing my coffee down on the counter in front of me and walking around to greet her husband.

  Shep doesn’t hold back on my account, kissing CeCe like it might be the last time ever. When he pulls back, he smiles down at her. “That was for leaving me this
morning. I hope you think about your transgressions and anticipate your punishment.”

  Oh, God.

  “I can’t wait,” CeCe says, voice low.

  Yep, that’s my cue.

  “Well,” I say with a chuckle. “King and I must be going… there’s the, uh, gallery… and work. Ready, King?” I ask, averting my eyes from CeCe and Shep down to my dog who’s peering up at me unknowing, just happy to be here.

  “Talk to Finn?” Shep asks, turning CeCe until her back is flush with his front… probably to hide an issue with his well-tailored pants.

  Stop, Georgette. Oh, God. Just stop.

  I feel my cheeks heat up, wishing I could disappear or turn invisible. If I ever get to pick a superpower, that will be it. “Uh, yes,” I say, clearing my throat. “We talked last night and again this morning.”

  “Good to hear Maggie is doing well,” he says, relief in his tone. CeCe turns in his arms and hugs his waist. I know this has been hard on him too. With work and all of his business ventures, he hasn’t been able to get away to go see her.

  I nod. “Yeah, she still has a ways to go, but she’s doing so much better.”

  “We’re planning on flying to see her as soon as she’s home and recovering,” Shep says. “Until then, I’m glad Finley is there taking care of everything.”

  Smiling, I nod again. It is good. I’m glad he’s there with Maggie, but I really, really miss him here, with me. “Yeah, it’s good.”

  “He’ll be home soon,” he says, giving me a reassuring smile.

  Home.

  I’ve thought a lot about that word and what it means since moving to New Orleans, and now I know that word means Finley. Finley is home, wherever he is, is where I want to be and I can’t wait until he comes back to me.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Finley

  Another week away from Jette is torturous but it’s also another week in which Maggie has regained a lot of her health and strength. For a while, she wouldn’t ask me to do much for her but after explaining time and time again, I wanted to do things for her—needed to do them—and that it would, in turn, help her recover quicker, she finally gave in.