“I think I fell in love.”
To his credit, my dad doesn’t laugh at my blurted confession. In fact, he seems to be taking the news way more calmly than I am. It’s the first time I’ve let myself really admit just how deep my feelings for Finn really go. Those six words open a floodgate inside of me, and suddenly I’m tripping over myself, trying to tell Dad everything.
“His name is Finn and he’s the vintner at Pierre’s winery. Well, he co-owns it, I guess. And he was so grumpy when I first got there, but eventually we worked it out. He’s got such a good heart, and when we’re together I just know that he’s really there with me. He’s not distracted or thinking about something else, he’s with me. And even though he drives me crazy sometimes, and he confuses me almost all the time, he also feels right, you know?”
Dad’s slow chuckle fills my ear. “Oh, my darling daughter, I do know. That’s how it was for your mother and I. We were at odds for years before I finally convinced her to give me a chance.”
I sit up straight and face him. “I’ve never heard that story. What do you mean at odds?”
“Come, let’s go to the living room so I can be comfortable.” Dad stands up slowly and we make our way to the cozy, lived-in leather couches that have been here since I was a teenager. I help Dad get settled, then take the navy blue blanket I gave him for part of his Christmas gift years ago, and sit down at the other end before draping it over my feet.
“Your mother and I met in university, you remember?” Dad looks at me with an eyebrow raised. At my nod, he continues. “She was smart. So damn smart. And she just loved to be the best in class. Too bad for her, so did I.” He chuckles, shaking his head ruefully. I take a sip of my tea and wait. Hearing stories about my mom is something I never get tired of.
“Our program was small, only about twenty of us in the entire cohort. And your mother was one of only three women. There just wasn’t the same representation of women in business back then. She was a firecracker, though, and never let any of us treat her as less deserving of a spot than we were simply by being men.” Dad pauses and I can tell from the expression on his face he’s lost in the memories. “She and I battled for top marks all year long. And outside of class was no better. It seemed we would run across each other everywhere, whether it was our volunteer positions in the student union, or the lineup at the cafeteria. Every time she would see me, she’d roll her eyes, march up to me and say, ‘imitation is the greatest form of flattery, Simon, but this is getting ridiculous.’ Little did she know, it wasn’t about me imitating her, it was about me desperately wanting more time with her. I was infatuated, but had no clue what to do about it. She was so strong and independent, so fierce, I didn’t think I had a chance. But then, in our senior year, we had to partner up for our final project. Luck was on my side when Marian drew my name out of the hat. Forced to spend time working together gave us a new appreciation for each other, and the day we presented to the class was also the day I kissed her for the first time.”
I watch Dad lift his mug of tea to his mouth and take a small sip before lowering it back down to his lap. When he turns his gaze up to me, his eyes are brimming with unshed tears and love.
“She was the love of my life, but not a day went by that she didn’t make me crazy in some way. I think that spark, that energy is what kept us going. We challenged each other constantly. It was never easy, but it was always worth it.”
The way he describes it makes me miss Finn fiercely. I hate that I left before he and I had a chance to talk. I want to tell him I’m falling in love with him, that I want to be with him if he’ll have me.
I want to move to Dogwood Cove.
“Dad, how would you feel if I lived on the island?”
“Well, honey, I’d say it’s about time.”
Right away, I start to set things in motion. After talking with Dad and his doctor, as well as Mrs. Crenshaw, we worked out a plan for someone to check in on him daily. His doctor said that wasn’t even necessary given how well he’s doing, but for my peace of mind it is. I even made a reservation for the ferry tomorrow night to bring me back to Dogwood Cove one week after I left.
Last night, I spent over an hour on the phone with Sarah talking about everything. She’s still my number one sounding board and I wish like hell she would come home to BC. She convinced me not to tell anyone I’m coming back. Something about it being a grand gesture, romantic surprise type thing. I’m nervous about that idea, but at the same time I know I’ve got some serious explaining to do, especially to Finn. I can only hope he’s willing to forgive me for disappearing for a week. When I read back through our sparse text messages, I cringed. In my attempt to keep him at arm’s length, I ended up being a real bitch. My dad also reamed me out when I admitted that Finn offered to be with me while he was in hospital, saying I was “a fool not to let that man love you.” The truth is, it feels like too much to ask for Finn to love me back at this point. We let things get so uncertain, so confusing, I can’t see how he would possibly want to give it a real try between us.
But the other thing Sarah convinced me of was this — I’m not moving to Dogwood Cove for Finn. I’m moving there for me. My happiness, my future, it lies on the island. Whether Finn is a part of that or not.
Which is why the next call I made was to Tom Coffman. As luck would have it, he was on the mainland with his husband for an interview in their adoption process. We agreed to meet for lunch today and hammered out the details of our partnership.
Starting as soon as I’m finished with the tasting room, I’ll be a managing partner at Coffman Interiors. That was a big enough deal that when Tom went to hug me, I let him do it. Of course, he followed it up with a swat to my arm and firm instructions to “get my man,” but that’s not the point. The point is, for the first time in many months, I’ve got a plan, a purpose. I know what I want, and I’m damn well going to do whatever it takes to get it.
And what I want is Finn.
Chapter twenty-seven
Finn
I’m just pulling up to my house when my phone rings. It’s my mom, and while the last thing I want to do right now is talk to someone, I know her. If I don’t answer, she’ll call back. Especially since I’ve been too wrapped up in my personal life drama to call her recently. It’s times like this that I wish I wasn’t so damn close with my parents.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Finn? Mon cher, I can hear the sadness in your voice from here. What is wrong?”
Yep, definitely wishing my mom didn’t know me quite so well right now. “I’m fine, really. Just dealing with some stuff.” Maybe, just this once, she’ll let it go.
Yeah right.
“Finnley Matisse McNeil.” Oh shit, she pulled out my full name. “I have known you for all thirty-six years of your life. I have witnessed many moods, and many feelings. Which means when I say I can hear sadness, I know what I can hear. Talk to your maman.”
I shut off the engine of my car and lean back against the seat. “Remember the designer from the winery?”
“Yes, Ashley was her name, non?”
