“Hmm, no, take your time.”
So, I did. He was quite late. Coach was not impressed. Bag skates ensued. He assured me it was fine and that I could rub the soreness from his overworked thighs when he got home.
Which I also did because I’m just that kind of guy. The kind who’s crazy in love.
My mother usedto say that hindsight is twenty-twenty.
In retrospect bringing Jari into a small suburban house with two three-year-old boys might not have been the best thing to do. After being here for an hour Jari looked shellshocked. An emotion Archie and Max did tend to bring out in old people at the grocery store, their daycare providers, the neighbor across the street, and their pediatrician. They were twin dervishes who glommed onto people they liked like barnacles. Jari had made the mistake of bringing the boys storybooks as a gift. He also gifted Joy with Lindt chocolates and Kirby with rich pastries from a local bakery. Thoughtful gifts from a lovely man.
“Okay, so if someone can peel the boys off Jari we can sit down to eat. Shit! I forgot the cranberry sauce. Kirby, get the boys into their boosters. Cam, can you start carving the turkey?”Joy shouted over her shoulder as she raced back into the kitchen.
“Huh?” Kirby gasped, lifting one lad to his seat as the other tried to dig so far into his nose that he was about to poke his brain. Jari sat in his seat, wide-eyed, as I pulled the finger out of Archie’s nose then wiped it off with my sleeve. “I’m sorry. Who is carving the turkey? That job belongs to the man of the house. Which is me. Maxwell, please stop trying to help. It’s not helping.”
“Someone is fragile,” I stage-whispered to Jari who cracked a smile. Kirby scowled then flung a dinner roll at my head. It bounced off my temple to the floor where the family dog, Woof, a mix breed beagle/poodle/something with a curly tail, pounced on it. “Let me get the boys seated. You carve,” I said to Kirby after plunking Archie into his booster.
“No! Don’t let him anywhere near that electric carving knife!” Joy said, reappearing from the kitchen with a platter holding six logs of jellied cranberry. Six. Six logs. “The last time he tried to carve a roast he cut through the table and ruined my great-grandmother’s beloved wooden meat trencher.”
“Well, if great granny Gerturde wasn’t serving her guests pork roast on a wooden dish like we were dining with Vikings in some hall in Finland that wouldn’t have happened.”
“Actually, most of the Vikings weren’t Finnish. They were our neighbors and they traded with us Fenni but spoke a different language,” Jari softly interjected into the chaos.
“See, now you’ve offended our special guest,” Joy chided her husband before placing a log of cranberry on Jari’s already overflowing dish. And we’d not even gotten to the bird yet.
“I thoughtIwas the special guest.” I frowned at Archie who giggled gleefully at my pain.
“No, you’re family. Jari is special because this is his first and probably last time dining with us,” Joy explained then dropped alog on my plate. “I couldn’t find lingonberry canned for the meal, so I hope this is acceptable?”
“Very yes, thank you. It’s all very much.”
I gave Jari’s knee a squeeze under the table.
“I never meant to insult you, Jari.” Kirby seemed stricken as he battled to get Max buckled into his seat. Woof pawed at my leg. I fed him a cooked carrot. He seemed pleased. Archie was finally seated, belted, and ready to dive in. I gave him a cooked carrot as well. He also seemed pleased. The carrot and his wild hair were the same color.
“You didn’t. It’s fine. Truly. I’m very happy to be at your table. This is nice.” Jari smiled at Joy and Kirby with sincerity. I placed my hands on the table to avoid Woof licking my fingers. “My family is… well, far away. Not close much aside from my mother. This is… thank you for having me. I look forward to eating the turkey and stuffing. Cam is very lucky to have you all in his life.” He placed his hand atop mine, right there for everyone and the dog to see—well not the dog as he was too short—but everyone else. I was shocked. I slid my hand around to rest the back on the cloth-covered table. His fingers meshed with mine.
“We’re lucky to have you in our lives as well,” Joy said then dashed a tear away with her napkin. Kirby gave our hands a glance then threw me a knowing look. He said nothing. That would come later when we were alone. I found that I welcomed it.
“Family is important,” Kirby said as I rubbed my thumb over Jari’s pulse. Calm, steady. “Welcome to the madness that is Chez Blackburn.” Jari blushed. “So, Jari,” Kirby asked as his wife began to carve the turkey. “I need ideas for my next book. Are there any uniquely Finnish ways to kill someone?”
“Kirby!” Joy gasped. “Not in front of the boys.”
“Well, you could lock someone in a sauna,” Jari offered and Kirby’s eyes lit up. “Or they could choke to death on some salmon soup or be gored by a reindeer.”
Yep, Jari had just adopted a cousin. And a new, slightly madcap family if he wanted it. He already possessed my heart.
SEVENTEEN
Jari
The locker roomwas loud in that loose, post-practice way—music thumping, tape ripping, someone chirping about a missed open net.
“Four times,” Noah said, voice smug as he leaned back against his stall. “You fell four times. That’s not bad ice, that’s bad skating.”
Trick scoffed, wrestling with his elbow pads. “It was three. And one of those was intentional.”
“Sure, it was,” Becks said. “Very advanced technique. Fall early so expectations stay low.”
Mules laughed, tossing a towel that hit Trick square in the chest. “Coach should put that in the drills.”
