Chapter 4
He didn’t expect there to be this much traffic on a Saturday. With so much time behind the wheel, Finn blasted his favorite Pearl Jam album, Ten. Songs about bitter hands cradling broken glass of what was everything fit his mood to a tee.
“Do you think they’ll like the gifts? I won’t look … stupid? Or like I’m trying too hard?” Max had whispered to him right before they’d parted.
“They will, and you won’t. Usually, team captains do that, you know? Bring everyone something nice to get the team spirit going. I know that role is not your aim, but you’re positioning yourself, even though you’re the newest and youngest. The older kids will appreciate it, and the younger ones will copy them.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“See you tomorrow, Dad.” Max had thrown his arms around him.
He had leaned in and sniffed his son’s hair.
Max was at that age when he was still mostly sweet and not yet a full-on grumpy teen. He loved that Max took to swimming enough to want to be on a team and compete, but that he had other dreams, as well. He didn’t want his son to be a replica of him.
While Avery had her issues, and he was far from perfect, as well, unlike his childhood, at least Max had both of them. If his job wasn’t in Blueshore, he would have moved to Riviera View, too, so Max wouldn’t have to travel between his two homes. But his job wasn’t the only hindrance. He knew Jane’s presence there posed a complication, a risk.
Finn shut off the air conditioning and cracked the window open, letting in the salty September ocean breeze.
That long-legged, former trumpet player was his drug. He couldn’t be near her without needing a dose. And whenever he had a dose, he yearned for more. That was why he had stayed away, even after his divorce. In the handful of times that he had seen her in the past fourteen years, he’d paid the price for weeks after, trying to wean himself from thoughts, dreams, and fantasies of her; from blowing his sham of a marriage to hell, from calling her, from getting into his car and driving all the way to fucking Ohio just to hold her in his arms and breathe her in—something he couldn’t do in whatever family event she had attended, even if she had let him. He wanted to hold her, promising himself it would suffice but knowing that he would only yearn for a bigger dose after. Yet today, he had caved in to the need, and even the safety valve of his son’s and Avery’s presence hadn’t stopped him until her father’s words had.
Her brother, Bert had referred to him. It had almost killed him to hear it. That family still thought of him as Avery’s husband, and they’d always considered Avery and Anne as sisters. And sisters don’t date each other’s exes. A recipe for disaster, especially when one had treated the other as competition her entire life.
He was divorced, but he knew they couldn’t really be together without stirring up an uproar and causing an explosion that would tear that small family apart. It would devastate her, crush her under a ton of guilt. Not to mention confuse his son.
He didn’t even know if her love for him had survived. It’d been years. A fucking lifetime. And, after all, he had let her down in the worst way possible. It didn’t matter that it was all a result of fateful timing. She had never blamed him and had even said that she understood, that she wouldn’t have expected him to do any different, that he had no other choice, and that they couldn’t be together, anyway. Yet, he couldn’t expect her to forgive him.
He wished he could turn back time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘Who art thou,’ he silently read the words printed on the T-shirt of the tall girl who approached him. She seemed vaguely familiar—thin, with smooth brown hair cut to her shoulders, and dark brown eyes that were in sharp contrast to her fair complexion. He stood at the entrance to the library, looking for the tutor that he had been assigned.
“Finn?” Her almond-shaped eyes reflected the light that came through the large windows.
“Jane Drecher?”
“Yes. Hi!”
“You’re the daughter of the Breading Dreams owners, right? I’ve seen you around.”
“Couldn’t bake a damn thing even if my life depended on it, but yes,” she said.
He chuckled, surprised. She seemed the quiet, mousy type. Sort of a wallflower. And yet, she had thorns. He liked it. Now he had hope that the tutoring sessions wouldn’t be as boring as he’d expected them to be.
The more time they spent together, the more he liked her and looked forward to their meetings. She made him laugh and didn’t go easy on him with his studies. She managed to make art history and English interesting, and he found himself striving for good grades, not just to be accepted into Cal Poly, but for her sake, too, so she’d see that her efforts paid off.
He even went to watch the band play in a pep rally, something he’d never done before unless he had to.
“You did great out there,” he said when they met at the library after the performance.
“You managed to see me behind the cheerleaders?” She chuckled.
“I came to see you. And the band.”
She didn’t reply, busying herself with taking books out of her backpack. He wasn’t sure if she blushed or not. It was the week she had gotten sunburned while trying to get a tan, and her nose was peeling.