For The Summer Page 13

  I hear shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor just outside the door. The sound gets closer, I expect it to pass by, to fade down the hallway. instead, it stops suddenly.

  “Ow Fin, what the hell?” a voice shouts from the doorway. I immediately recognize this voice and when I turn to face the commotion I see Kris. Fin is standing next to her, frozen in the doorway, his sister beside him is poised to smack him in the head,

  “Kristina! This is a hospital!” my grandmother whisper-shouts in a scolding tone.

  “Sorry Mom,” Kris mutters.

  What did she just say? Did she just call my grandmother, Mom? No, that’s not possible. I can feel my forehead creasing in a severe way. I turn my attention back to my grandmother. Her hand covers her mouth, her wide eyes dart between everyone. But no one says anything.

  My mother is the first to speak.

  “Is someone going to explain what’s going on here?” she asks.

  “I hardly think this is the time or the place,” my grandmother says quietly.

  I’m pretty sure I’ve pieced it together on my own, I mean, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to connect these dots. I knew Fin and Kris were in foster care, that they were adopted, and found great parents they’re still close to. I’ve seen Fin at my grandparent’s house twice in the short time I’ve been here. His secrecy about basically everything, and the way he kept reminding me he was fostered and adopted. It all adds up to one really weird situation. The only thing I can’t quite figure out is why we’re just finding this out now. Why didn’t my mother know her parents had adopted two children? Hell, why didn’t Fin tell me the truth from the start? Or even Kris? Who’s idea was it to keep this all a secret?

  I hear my mother exhale sharply behind me, her hands, which are resting on my shoulders are squeezing, fingers sinking into my skin.

  “I think this is the perfect time,” she says curtly. I know my mother. This is the same tone she used with Jim the night he burned down the illusion that was our life. She’s pissed off, and she’s not going to let this go without getting the answers she wants. I get it. I feel betrayed too, but on some weird level, I kind of understand. The more I think about it, this whole situation seems like the type that probably snowballed. I’m not great at math, but my grandparents must have adopted Fin and Kris after Mom and I visited when I was a kid. Then Mom basically cut off contact with them, aside from a call around the holidays and the cards they sent to me I rarely heard her mention them at all. When she got back in touch with them after the divorce I’m sure dropping that bombshell was the last thing they wanted to do. They finally had their daughter and granddaughter back in their lives. It makes sense that they wanted things to be smooth and normal. But they must have known this would all come out sooner than later, Right?

  “Fine, Lydia. You want to know what’s going on here?” my grandmother snaps. It’s immediately clear where my mother gets her personality from. These women are calm and level until suddenly they aren’t. Maybe it’s a southern thing. I don’t linger on the thought too much, my mother’s fingernails are actually digging into my shoulder now.

  “Ow, Mom! That’s my skin,” I hiss, swatting her hands away.

  Fin and Kris move further into the room. Their feet are light and quiet, but I can see them inching against the wall in my periphery until they’re standing at the foot of the hospital bed.

  “After you and Amelia left the last time it was clear you had no intentions of coming back,” my grandmother says harshly to my mother. “You’re father and I talked about it for months and we decided to become foster parents. We knew we had a lot to offer and our hearts had a lot of open space. When we met Fin and Kris our hearts were full again. We both knew they were meant to be with us and after a few months when it was clear they felt the same way we started the adoption process.”

  “You adopted them? I can’t believe this,” Mom says loudly. “How could you have kept this from me? From us?”

  “When was I supposed to tell you, Lydia? We barely spoke! Before you moved back here I hadn’t seen you in over ten years!” my grandmother shoots back.

  “You found the time to call every December mother, don’t you think during one of those calls you could have maybe mentioned taking in two children? Between the completely unnecessary updates about your book club and your obsession with the local animal shelter you could have squeezed them in.” She flourishes her hand toward Fin and Kris dramatically. Then she gasps. “My daughter has been dating your son!”

  I throw my head back against the chair, rubbing my face in exhaustion and thankful I’m not wearing any eye makeup. If I were it would be smeared all over my face now.

  “What are you talking about?” my grandfather asks. Speaking for the first time since the drama began.

  “Amelia and Fin! They’ve been seeing each other! That just seems wrong now. Doesn’t it?” she asks, seemingly unsure herself.

  I groan and roll my eyes. I really don’t like arguing with my mother. Arguing in general isn’t my thing. I roll with the punches and move on from people who cause problems. Unfortunately, this is different. Neither of those options are viable when it comes to family.

  “No, Mom. It’s not wrong, it’s just extremely weird.” My tone is calm and flat. “We aren’t related to them. We don’t share blood or even last names as far as I know.”

  I stand up and she looks at me with wide eyes.

  “You don’t care about this? It doesn’t bother you?” she asks.

  “No. I mean, they should have been more upfront, but I get it. Your relationship was already rocky and they didn’t want to make things worse.” I shrug and walk toward the door. “I’m going to find a coffee.”

  It wasn’t a lie. I am going to go get a coffee, but that coffee isn’t going to be in this hospital and I’m not going to go back into that room. I came to see my grandfather, I did that and he seems fine. I don’t need to stick around to listen to my mother and grandmother argue about whether my relationship is gross or not.

  “You’re not really going to get a coffee are you?” Kris asks from behind me.

  I turn around to face her. “I’m definitely getting a coffee from anywhere but here,” I answer with a smile.

  “I know a place,” she says, smirking mischievously, and taking another step toward me.

  “Is the coffee good? I’m kind of picky.”

  She smiles. I look past her at Fin. He’s leaning against the wall outside the hospital room we all just came from. I know what he’s thinking, just like I know why he didn’t tell me the truth sooner. It would be easy to be mad at him, to sit on my high horse and preach about how the truth is always the right choice. But, the thing is, I don’t know that I would have done things any differently if I were in his position. I don’t know how we got here, or how he let things get this far without telling me the truth, but I’m willing to hear him out.

  “Can you give me a minute?” I ask Kris. She follows my eyes to the end of the hall and nods.

  Fin doesn’t look up from the spot he’s staring at on the floor. He’s leaning against the wall with his hands tucked into the pockets of a gray cotton zip-up.

  “Just get it over with, Amelia,” he says quietly. His voice sounds so deflated my chest tightens with sadness. He exhales loudly and I watch every muscle in his jaw tense as he bites down on his molars, bracing himself for what he’s so sure will come next.

  I sigh and lean in, pressing a kiss to his tense jaw. When I pull away he turns to look at me. Confusion clear in his eyes as they search my face.

  “I don’t understand,” he says, shaking his head slowly.

  “This doesn’t change anything for me, Fin. Maybe it would have in the beginning, but I’m too far gone now.” I smirk and reach into his sweatshirt pocket, pulling out his hand and lacing my fingers between his.

  He wraps his other hand around my waist and dips his head, pressing his lips to mine briefly.

  “You are one of a kind, you know that?”
he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  I nod, a smile pulling at the corner of my lips. “I know.”

  I can hear my mother and grandparents arguing inside the room beside us. It sounds like all three of them are talking over one another and I’m certain my grandfather shouldn’t be taking part in a family squabble hours after having a heart attack. I guess if they’re going to do it, the hospital is the safest place though.

  I pull Fin down the hall toward Kris and we climb into the elevator.

  “Coffee and Candyland?” she asks.

  “I’m definitely going to win this time!” I say, far more competitively than any adult should when it comes to a children’s board game.

  Fin presses a kiss to the side of my head and wraps his arm around my shoulder as we walk through the parking garage.

  ***

  Thirty minutes later we’re settled at a table at The Dirty Bean. Kris hung the closed sign in the window and dimmed the lights, now she’s making our drinks behind the bar. I pull the lid off the box and take out the board and three gingerbread men.

  “Kris pitches a fit if she can’t be the green one,” Fin says with a chuckle. I can already feel him loosening up and I’m sure his guarded behavior was only covering up the secret he had been carrying around since the day we met.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask me anything and everything,” he says, turning to face me. His hazel eyes seem brighter and I’m not sure if it’s my imagination or if the weight off his shoulders is really that noticeable.

  “That first night, at that party. You said you didn’t want people to see us together because you didn’t want to be connected to the Walker family. What was that all about?”

  “Your grandparents took us in when I was nine and Kris was seven. Being in foster care and moving around with our belongings in garbage bags every year or so didn’t make it easy to make friends. Kris and I were both pretty used to keeping to ourselves. When we were adopted that didn’t change. We never invited other kids over and we didn’t talk about our family at school. Old habits and all of that, I guess. None of my friends know I was in foster care or that I’m adopted, and at this point, it just feels weird to tell them. Not to mention this.” He points between us. “Adds an extra layer of complicated to the mix if I were to tell Hunter and Liam.”

  I nod my head. I understand where he’s coming from, but it still makes me sad to know that he’s always hidden the truth about himself from everyone. Keeping everyone at arm's length to avoid being judged and labeled. I can’t blame him though. I know how harsh people can be. After all was said and done with my parents’ divorce and my father remarrying I could count the people I trusted with my secrets on one hand. By the time we moved that number had dropped to zero, leaving me wishing I had never trusted anyone.

  “Do you really work for the family, or was that just part of your cover story?” I ask, smiling at Kris as she crosses the room with three iced drinks.

  “It’s the truth. I mostly balance the books and manage the accounts, but eventually, I’ll take over the business.”

  “I’m green,” Kris says, scooping up the gingerbread man as soon as she’s put the cups on the table.

  “I already told her,” Fin announces, rolling his eyes at his sister.

  I laugh, taking a sip of iced cold coffee. I’ll never understand how she does it, but this is the best coffee I’ve ever had.

  We play three rounds and Kris wins them all. I don’t know how, but I think she’s cheating.

  “I’m heading out,” she says, pushing away from the table and yawning. “Are you two sticking around?”

  Fin looks at me for an answer.

  “No, we should go too. I’m exhausted,” I say, putting the game back in the box and walking it up to the counter.

  We step out onto the sidewalk and wait while Kris locks up. I walk toward the curb and stop, looking down at the neighboring shops. A white and red sign catches my eye and I stroll toward it. It reads, Storewide Sale.

  “They’re going out of business,” Kris says a moment later, and I notice she’s followed me and is only a few inches behind. “This hardware store has been here since before I was born, but the owners are getting old and they’ve lost a lot of business to that big box store on the other side of town. Their lease is up in December.”

  “What do you think will move into this space?” The words cross my lips before I’ve even thought them through.

  “I don’t know. I hope it’s something charming and fresh. The kind of shop that will really add to the downtown vibe we have going on.” She turns to look at me, smirking. “Or something that pairs well with coffee and brings in new business.”

  I smile and roll my eyes.

  Fin drives me home, holding my hand the whole way. I swear it’s like he thinks I’m going to change my mind and bolt as soon as he lets go or turns away. It’s equal parts adorable and heartbreaking. I need him to know that I’m not going anywhere. He’s made an impression on my heart and if we were able to get through tonight in one piece we have nothing to worry about.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to my place?” he asks as he puts the car in park out front of the house.

  “Raincheck,” I say, leaning in for a kiss. “After everything that happened tonight, I really need to talk to my mom, make sure she’s ok.”

  He nods his head and steals one last kiss before I climb out of the car.

  I take a deep breath before I open the front door. I have no idea what to expect, but I’m surely not looking forward to it.

  “Mom!” I call out from the entryway.

  “Kitchen,” she returns.

  When I step into the room she’s sitting at the island with her laptop out, clicking away at the keyboard. I sit down on a barstool opposite her.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask.

  “I have no idea, Amelia. I really don’t. I guess I’m still processing,” she says without looking up from her computer.

  “What are you doing there?”

  She rubs her eyes and looks at me over the screen.

  “The old friend I reconnected with yesterday owns a magazine. It’s targeted toward women with style, makeup, and lifestyle articles. She remembered that I was an English major in college and she asked me if I had any interest in contributing to it,” she explains, looking back down and continuing to type.

  “I take it you said yes?”

  “I did. It’s been so long since I’ve written anything more than a speech for a fundraiser or event. I forgot how much I enjoy getting lost in research and writing with a purpose.”

  “I’m happy for you, Mom. You deserve to do something that you enjoy, something that you’re passionate about.”

  I climb off the barstool, grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and head for the stairs.

  “Amelia?” she calls after me.

  “Yeah?”

  “I want you to do whatever makes you happy. No matter what that is, or who you choose to be with I will always be right here cheering you on. You know that, right?”

  I smile because I know she means it.

  “Yeah Mom, I know that.”

  When I get to my room I close the door and plug my phone in. It’s been dead for hours and I was so surrounded by the people I love I didn’t even care.

  I turn on the shower and step under the hot water, lathering my hair and body and letting the stress and confusion of the day rinse away with the suds. I step out onto the bath mat and wrap a towel around my body, taking the time to dry my hair and moisturize before slipping into cotton leggings and a loose t-shirt. Then I flop down onto my bed and check my phone. I have an obscene amount of messages from Oliver and one from an unsaved number I’m certain is Fin. I save the number under his name and read it about a dozen times with a smile plastered to my face.

  Fin: I miss you

  I back out of the message and click on Oliver’s name in my contacts. My fin
ger presses the block button without hesitation. Then I delete his messages and move on.

  Me: Text me your address.

  ***

  I turn into a development of brick townhouses, all nearly identical save for the front doors which are various colors. I slow down, scanning the sleek black numbers on each garage door. When I spot four-twenty-six I pull into the driveway and turn off the engine. Grabbing my bag off the passenger seat, I climb out of the car and slowly follow the walkway up to the blue front door.

  The door opens before I have a chance to knock. My chest tightens and I swallow the knot forming in my throat as I stare at his bare chest and the gray lounge pants hanging at his hips. Why are rippled abs and sweatpants the best combination since peanut butter and jelly?

  He smiles and pulls me inside, wrapping me in his arms. I breathe in his fresh scent and rest my head on his chest. I knew coming here was the right thing to do. I felt bad leaving my mother alone after the fiasco at the hospital but she was completely absorbed in her article, and honestly, seeing her moving on and jumping into something new made me feel better about the new things in my life.

  I still have a lot of stuff to figure out, but whatever path I choose to go down I hope Fin will be by my side. The connection I have with him is something I know isn’t going to fade, it’s the kind of once in a lifetime spark they write books and movies about and I never want to let that go. I guess that’s part of the reason I came here tonight, to find out for sure if he feels the same way that I do. I know he cares for me, and I know what we have makes him happy. He told me as much. But, the thing is, I love him, and I need to know if falling this fast is completely insane, or if he feels it too.

  “Some raincheck,” he says with a smirk.

  I tip my chin toward him and roll my eyes.

  “I realized I didn’t want to spend the night apart.”

  “I’m glad you did,” he says, dipping his head to brush his lips against mine. “I didn’t want to fall asleep without you.”

  I smile relaxing against his side as he leads me out of the foyer.