“They aren’t strangers, okay? And I’m not trying to make anything perfect. I only want to help them get their lives back on track so that everything will be okay when I leave. I don’t think that makes me a monster, do you?”
The words poured from Callie in a flood, leaving her dizzy and almost physically ill once they were out. Her mom was silent for a moment, and Callie allowed herself one moment of hope that the fight would be over before it had really begun. Then she heard her mother clear her throat and knew they weren't done yet.
“I’m just wondering, darling, if you’ve given any thought to what’s going to happen when you leave.”
“What do you mean, what’s going to happen?” Callie asked in exasperation. “They’re going to find a new nanny and move on with their lives—that’s what’s going to happen.”
“I’m just wondering if it will be quite that easy,” her mother countered with a mournful sigh, “because, whether you’ve done it on purpose or not, you’ve set that poor family up for failure.”
“I have not!” Callie cried indignantly, glancing down the hallway immediately after to make sure she hadn’t drawn unwanted attention from Wendy.
“But you have,” her mom answered, a serenity in her voice now that made Callie want to scream, “most certainly. You’ve seen to it that they depend on you for their happiness, and who knows what will happen when you go?” Her mother was silent for a moment, then went on, “When will it ever be enough, Callie? That’s what I want to know. Because it’s beginning to look a lot to me like there’ll never be a time when you feel your work there is done. There’ll never be a time when you feel good enough about things to finally walk away.”
“That’s not true,” Callie whispered, her voice small and faltering. “I can walk away. I’m going to, just like I’ve always planned.”
"And here's another thing for you to consider," Callie's mother continued, glossing over Callie's objection as if she hadn't spoken at all. "What will become of you when you decide you just have to stay, and he goes and decides that he'll be the one to leave, instead? What happens to you when you choose him and he picks up his little girl and his life and runs off to the rodeo, leaving you behind?"
Twenty
Days passed before Finn began to feel as if things in his household were starting to go back to normal—or whatever passed for normal as of late. He watched Callie closely, looking for some resurgence of their unfinished fight. Lord knew they hadn’t worked out any resolution. Callie was planning on leaving a month early, as far as he knew, and he’d acted like a horse’s ass, speaking cruelly of his need to replace her. It was the kind of fight that deserved another couple of rounds, in Finn’s humble opinion, and he was on edge, waiting for it.
Except that it didn't come. The peaceful, unendingly calm version of Callie had been the only one around, almost as if her outburst in the kitchen had been in his imagination. She had returned to her duties with Wendy, the two of them spending their days working tirelessly to prepare Wendy for the test to get her into the new school. Now the test was behind them, and they were celebrating with picnics and tea parties and whatnot. In the evenings, after Wendy had been tucked neatly into bed, things had remained the same between Finn and Callie, too. The sex between them had only gotten better if that was possible, and despite the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that something was wrong, he couldn't help being satisfied. More than satisfied, even. He was close to what he considered as being genuinely happy. Even the idea left him full of awe. In all his planning for the future, Finn had never expected to find himself happy again.
“What?” Callie asked with a curious smile, coming up beside him on the porch and sliding an arm around his waist. “What’s that smile about?”
“Nothing much,” he answered, pulling her in closer. “I was just thinking that today is a good day. There’s been a lot of those this summer. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Well, you should!” Callie said, her forehead wrinkling in disapproval. “You should always expect good things. For you and Wendy both. It’s no less than the two of you deserve.”
"Thank you for that," Finn said, clearing his throat and fighting the emotion struggling to make its way to the surface, "for helping Wendy so much with her studies. I asked her about that test this morning, and she said she thinks she aced it. She's excited about her future, and a lot of it is because of you."
"Don't be silly," Callie said quietly, a strange shadow passing in her eyes. Finn wanted badly to ask her what that shadow was about, but then he remembered the nastiness of their encounter in the kitchen, and he decided to keep his mouth shut. He wasn't interested in that kind of ugliness, not today. He had another whole kind of plan for this hot, lazy Sunday.
“I’m never silly,” he said lightly, ruffling her hair and earning himself a stuck-out tongue for his troubles.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Callie said, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. “Now, tell me what you’re thinking about for dinner. And let me preface this by saying it’s too dang hot for a whole lot of cooking.”
"Now, I'm glad you asked that, Ms. Winter," Finn answered, smiling at the look of suspicion his words sparked on Callie's pretty face, "because I had a little idea about tonight's supper, and I was wondering if you might want to weigh in."
“Sure, lay it on me,” Callie said with a grin. “Something tells me this is going to be good.”
“I think so,” Finn said lightly, “and I’m hoping you’ll agree. I’m thinking it’s the kind of thing that’ll be right up your alley.”
"Then, by all means, enlighten me," Callie smiled, her eyebrows raised expectantly.
“It’s something that started right after Alexandra died. People would bring food by the house every Sunday. Different people, not always the same ones every week. Wendy’s pediatrician, one of her old babysitters who wound up marrying one of my former hands. We started having these potlucks. They were family meals of a sort. I’m not sure what happened to them, why we stopped having them, I mean. I guess I got too busy, and the next thing I knew, people weren’t coming around anymore.”
“But that’s so sad!” Callie said with an unhappy frown. “It sounds like such a lovely tradition, and—I don’t mean to overstep my bounds, but it sounds like exactly the kind of thing Wendy needs in her life. That kind of stability can only help her to thrive.”
“See?” Finn smiled softly. “I knew you’d like it. That’s why I’d like to bring it back tonight. I was wondering if you might help me with a few phone calls?”
“Absolutely,” Callie answered happily. “I’ll get right on it!”
Several hours later, Finn sat at the head of the long wooden dinner table that Alexandra's father had made them for a wedding present. Looking around slowly at the people around it made him feel as though he was looking back through time at the dark days that had followed his wife's death. He had only been able to think of what he had lost, leaving him completely unable to see the blessing of his friends. Now, an unfamiliar warmth spread through him, and when he caught Callie's gaze, his face broke into a goofy grin.
“Will you look at that?” Doctor Wright, Wendy’s pediatrician, laughed gaily. “Finn Henry does know how to smile, after all.”
“Course I do, Doc,” Finn laughed. “Is somebody walking around and saying different?”
“No,” the doctor allowed, “but I didn’t need to hear a rumor. It was something I worked out just fine on my own. I’ve seen plenty of you, to be sure, but never with a smile like that on your face.”
“Well, nobody likes visiting the doctor, isn’t that so, Wendy?” Finn asked, smiling fondly at his little girl.
"I don't mind it!" Wendy proclaimed happily, beaming at Doctor Wright. The adults around the table laughed, and the pediatrician reached out and ran a hand over Wendy's hair affectionately.
“See?” he said, tipping an imaginary hat to Finn. “A braver little girl there never was. And I hope
you don’t mind my ribbing, anyhow. You’ve been a big help to the practice over the years.”
“Has he?” Callie piped up, surprised. The doctor nodded at her decisively. Wendy’s former babysitter Emily took her husband, Wayne, by the hand. Caroline Shriver, owner of a local candy store, beamed happily, nodding so vigorously that her graying curls jumped and danced.
“He certainly has, dear,” she agreed, delivering the words emphatically. “He’s been a big help to half the people living in this town. He’s always willing to give, both time and money. Why, when I opened my new shop, he spent two days helping me move everything in and put it in its place. He’s a good man, Mr. Henry is, whether he wants anyone to know it or not.”
“Come on, now,” Finn said, blushing under the weight of Mrs. Shriver’s compliments. “You're making me sound like a much better man than I am.”
“No, she’s not,” Emily said quickly, looking at Callie shyly before turning her attention back to the hand her husband was holding. “Everyone knows how terrific you are, Mr. Henry.”
“Please,” Finn laughed, “if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. Just call me Finn, won’t you?”
“All right, Finn, then. But it’s true. You’re fantastic, whether you want people to know it or not. I’m sure you’ll miss that after you’re gone, Callie.”
"I'm sorry?" Callie asked, turning bright red when everyone at the table turned to look at her. Finn tried to give Emily a warning look, but if she saw, she chose to ignore it. She was looking determinedly at Callie as if there was something on her mind she was going to get out, come hell or high water.
"When you move away," Emily said, looking at Callie earnestly. "From what I understand, that's happening soon. It seems to me like everything is going so well here, and you might only just be getting to know what a great guy your boss is. It seems a shame you have to leave, that's all."
“Well, who knows?” Callie said with a shaky laugh. “Maybe I won’t be leaving after all.”
“Is that so, dear?” Mrs. Shriver asked, leaning forward on her elbows. Her look said Callie had just spoken the most interesting idea in the world. “Have you had a change of heart?”
"No," Callie said, looking down at her plate to avoid seeing the way everyone was focused on her. "I wouldn't exactly say that. Only I seem to have chosen this summer as the first time in my life to procrastinate, and now the staff apartments at my new school are full. If I can't find a place to live, I'm not sure I'll be able to go at all."
“What? Sorry, what are you talking about, Callie?” Finn's tone was far sharper than he’d intended, and all side conversations at the table stopped as if on cue. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, or at least their volume and intensity. Everyone was looking at him like he'd burst into flame, and in a manner, he felt like he had.
“I’m sorry,” Callie said quietly, her face blazing with embarrassment. “I guess I didn’t mention it. I don’t know how I missed the date for housing. It just...it slipped past me, I guess. I didn’t think everything would fill up so soon.”
"But that wouldn't be a problem, would it?" Emily asked, flushing with excitement as she looked from Finn to Callie and then back again. "I don't know, maybe it's fate or something. Maybe she's supposed to stay here."
“Emily,” her husband said quietly, mild warning in his tone, “I don’t think…”
“I’m only trying to say, it might work out for the best,” Emily said defiantly.
Finn couldn’t do anything but listen to the back and forth, trying to ignore the feeling of walls closing in. Ever since Alexandra’s death, the knowledge of Wendy’s total dependency upon him had weighed him down like a millstone around his neck. He loved his little girl, loved her more than life itself, but that love did nothing to negate that weight. Now, he could see a future in which the weight of Callie’s happiness was thrust upon him as well. A part of him wanted her to stay with him and Wendy, a part that had been steadily increasing as the summer days passed. To consider it as a real possibility, though, meant seeing his dreams of rodeo freedom growing ever more distant.
Before Callie had come to stay, Finn would have thought the waning of his dreams was the worst thing he could think of. Now, looking at Callie's face, he knew that wasn't so. The color that had suffused her face when he’d first spoken was gone, leaving her unnaturally pale. She either couldn't or didn't want to look at him, staring down at her half-empty plate instead. He'd hurt her. He'd spoken without thinking, and he'd gone and hurt her, the last thing in the world he wanted to do. He had, he feared, made her feel unwanted, and in front of a crowd of people, to top it all off. He cleared his throat, wanting to say something, anything to make her feel at rights again, but when she looked up, meeting his eyes, he couldn't come up with a single word.
"Come on, Finn, there's no need to worry," she said playfully. He would almost have believed she hadn't been affected at all if it weren't for the painful glint in her eyes.
“Callie…” he tried, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“Seriously,” she interrupted, smiling at their company, “there’s nothing to fear. I’m sure if an apartment doesn’t come up, something else will. I think my mom has family in New York. Distant relatives, but still, it’s family. That’s the important thing to remember about family, isn’t it? Family is the one thing you can always count on.”
Twenty-One
The potluck Sunday dinner was exactly the kick in the pants Callie needed, as painful as it had been. She understood now that she had put off applying for housing because of Finn. All this time, she’d been telling herself she was only playing around with Finn, having a last bit of fun before heading into the rest of her life. It turned out, she had let her heart go where it had no business going. She had let herself entertain fantasies that she and Finn would somehow make a life together despite their two visions for the future being so completely different.
Now, though, she knew better. That look on Finn’s face when he thought she might stay had taught her everything she needed to know. No matter what her feelings might be, he didn’t want her around in the long term. She had seen that as plain as the nose on his face.
She had begged off of the dinner early, claiming a headache and stealing away to her bedroom to be alone and think. Late into the night, she had heard the sound of creaking footsteps in the hallway. She had known it was Finn, standing outside her door and waiting for her to open it. She could practically hear him breathing, imagining his head resting against the door and listening for her. Instead of going to open it as she had been in the habit of doing, she had pretended she was asleep.
The next morning, she had started making phone calls. As it turned out, Mrs. DeBeere was a good woman to have on your side when you needed to get something done, especially when it was something the school director also wanted for herself. She had alerted Callie to a rental not yet on the market, and Callie had snatched it up that same day. She actually felt lucky to have put things off originally, like it had been meant to be, even. Now, instead of being stuck in one of the little efficiency apartments reserved for the newest faculty, she would be moving into one of the historic homes she had been sure were out of her league. Judging by the pictures, it was going to be her dream house. Thinking about the place gave her goosebumps of pleasure.
Securing a place to live had been what she'd needed to get the ball rolling on every other front as well. She had made another Craigslist trip for boxes, this time in daylight and to a non-sketch business, and now at least half of her worldly possessions were safely packed and ready to go. In the end, it hadn't been nearly as hard as she’d expected. She didn't have many things to call her own, and she had always been good at organization. Given half a day more, she would be completely done. All she needed now would be a small, one-way rental truck to make the trip to New York.
“Too bad everything isn’t quite so easy to pack away,” she muttered to herself as she surveyed t
he half-filled boxes lining the walls of her room.
In the end, she was finding the physical packing to be easy as pie. Packing up things in terms of emotions was proving to be the problem. She had never dreamed she would grow so attached to Wendy. It was foolish not to have anticipated that, she realized now. Ever since she had started teaching, she’d had a hard time letting go of her students at the end of the year. Wendy had already been one of her favorites, and living with her had only solidified the bond. Her attachment to Finn, though? That was something she could never have seen coming, for all her planning ahead. No use denying it to herself, even if she told nobody else. She felt something for him that she had never felt for another man. She was falling in love with him.
"Right," she said hoarsely, "for all the good it will do."
She couldn't tell him, of course. She knew everything she needed to know about his feelings for her. It had all been there in that one look. All she could do now was go on her way and hope her wounds didn't take too long to heal. She thought she could be at peace with it, was sure she could be, if it weren't for the backsliding she thought she saw in Finn's relationship with Wendy. Wendy, who had been completely out of character all morning long, hardly speaking a word and spending most of her time looking listlessly into space. Even now, she sat by the foot of Callie's bed, holding a crayon she hadn't used to make a single mark.
“What is it, bug?” Callie asked solicitously, reaching down and stroking her little charge’s hair. “What’s on your mind? You don’t look like your normal happy self this morning.”
“Daddy left me,” Wendy said forlornly, her eyes instantly brimming with tears. “He was s’posed to be only with me this morning.” She gulped. “He likes other people more than me.”
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