I roll my eyes. I took no part in that particular shenanigan, but I didn’t stop it either.
Brady laughs. “I was your lookout.”
“Of course you were. Never one to get your hands dirty.” Finn’s tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent of something stronger.
“Don’t be a dick,” Brady says, pushing around the last bite of his sandwich.
“That’ll never happen,” Finn says cheerfully.
I try to suppress my laugh, but it makes a sound in my throat. Brady glares at me, but I know it’s playful. Finn looks at me, his dark eyes cool, but his cheekbones pull up mischievously.
I cross my arms and groan.
Brady angles his body so that his broad shoulders block as much of the end of the table as possible.
Finn reaches for the half-empty salt and sugar.
“You’re going to Hell for that,” I mutter.
“Baby, I’m going to Hell for a lot of things, this being the very least of my transgressions.”
Despite my disagreement about where Finn will spend his afterlife, I smile.
We’re back. The three of us together, we’re beyond the pale.
* * *
“Hello?”I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder, my hands busy washing the dishes in the sink of my mother’s kitchen. There are bread crumbs on a plate alongside smears of peanut butter. On the day she died, she ate peanut butter toast for breakfast.
“Lennon, hi. This is Wilma. From the church,” she adds, as though I need the reminder. I don’t. There aren’t too many Wilmas running around these days.
“Hello, Wilma. How are you?” I ask politely as I slip the remnants of my mother’s last meal under running water.
“Oh, just lovely, I suppose. The pastor asked me to call you. He’d like you to meet him at two this afternoon at the mortuary to discuss arrangements. You need to get everything underway as soon as possible before... before... well, it’s too unpleasant to talk about. You know what I mean.”
My stomach turns. I hadn’t thought about it, but now that Wilma mentions it, I wish I could unhear what she didn’t actually say.
Rigor mortis.
My own breakfast of waffles threatens to reappear in the world.
“Right,” I choke out. “Tell Pastor Thomas I’ll be there.”
I put down the phone, dry my hands, and pick the phone back up.
He answers on the third ring.
“Are you free today?” I ask.
* * *
At twenty till two,Finn pulls up in front of my mom’s house.
He hops out of his truck and eyes Laine’s SUV. “You’re driving,” he says, pointing at me.
Pulling my keys from my purse, I walk around to the driver’s side. Finn comes around to my side too. I look up at him, confused, and shield my eyes from the sun.
Finn steps into me, until our chests touch, and weaves his fingers into my hair. He pulls my face to his, and the tiniest pause before our lips touch gives me a chance to refuse. I don’t, and I know he’s not planning on asking a second time. This is what Finn does. He’s impulsive, and he leads with his heart. Right now, he’s leading with his lips.
