He reached out, caught her hand tight and she froze. All except for her head which jerked back to look at him.
He kept hold of her hand and said quietly, “It isn’t weird, Rees.”
She blinked then whispered, “Is she, um…cool? I mean, her diaries make her seem cool but she wrote them a long time ago.”
Fin kept holding her hand as he grinned and replied, “Oh yeah, Aunt Dusty is the shit. Totally.”
She seemed to relax like this was good news and she was relieved.
Then she carried on, “I know she lives far away and I don’t know how to get her back. I don’t know how long it would take Dad to –”
Fin grinned, squeezed her hand and cut her off. “I know how to get her back.”
“You do?” she whispered.
Her whisper and her eyes getting big like that was really f**king cute.
“I do,” he said soft.
“Oh.” She was still whispering and the way she did it was even cuter.
“Can I have those?” he asked, tipping his head down to the books.
She tensed again and shook her head. “I don’t know. They’re kind of personal and maybe, because she’s your aunt, you shouldn’t know what’s in them. And I don’t know why my Dad has them and he notices stuff. If they’re gone for a long time, he’ll notice. Definitely.”
“I’ll read them and I swear I won’t say a word to anyone. And I’ll do it quick and get them back to you. Promise. Cool?”
She bit her lip and considered this awhile. Then she offered the books to him.
He let her hand go and took them.
Then he said, “You gotta give me your number.”
“What?” she breathed and he grinned.
She was totally f**king into him.
“Your cell, Rees. So we can plan.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He dug his cell out of his back pocket. She dug hers out of her purse. He programmed in her number. She did the same with his.
The bell rang and Fin told her, “I’ll call you.”
“Uh…okay.”
He smiled at her and her eyes dropped to his mouth.
That wasn’t cute. That was something else altogether.
“This’ll be cool,” he promised and her eyes went back to his.
She nodded.
“Later, Rees,” he said, still smiling.
“Later, Fin,” she replied then she turned and moved away.
She was fourteen and a freshman. Out of his zone.
But he decided to expand his zone as he walked to his locker.
*
Fin shoved the journals into his book bag. It was late. He’d just finished reading them.
His skin felt strange, like it was prickly and his palms were sweating.
This was because his Aunt Dusty was the shit. He loved her. She loved him and Kirb and their Dad and their Ma and she showed it in ways he always liked. And he knew she’d done what she could so Aunt Debbie wouldn’t take over when Dad died but Aunt Debbie got her way as usual and he knew it ticked Aunt Dusty off. Not because she was just ticked. But because she’d done what his Ma should do, and, seriously, also his Gram, and tried to do right by his Dad, Fin and Kirb after Dad died. She just was up against Aunt Debbie who his Dad said more than once was a ball buster and since Aunt Dusty didn’t have balls, Aunt Debbie rolled right over her.
And that crazy, f**king psycho serial killer had touched her.
His Aunt Dusty.
And that made him feel sick to his stomach just as it made him feel like punching his fist through a wall.
He couldn’t do the last because if he did his Ma would lose what was left of her marbles.
So he had to tamp it down, bury it deep and sort out the rest of the shit in that journal.
Because, if what Clarisse said was true and his Aunt Dusty hooked up with Mr. Haines, that was a long f**king time coming.
And if they broke up, that sucked huge.
And Clarisse was right and she didn’t even know how right she was.
This needed to happen.
It needed to happen so Aunt Dusty would move home, help with his Ma, help with the farm and Fin wouldn’t be facing all this shit alone.
It needed to happen because Aunt Dusty loved that land like Dad, like Fin and Ma had no hope of talking Aunt Debbie down if she wanted to sell it. But Aunt Dusty would sell it over her dead body. It sucked to think that thought but he knew it was f**king true. She might have lost on the whole gig around Dad’s funeral. But she wouldn’t stand for Fin losing his legacy. No f**king way. She’d fight to the death and Fin knew it.
It needed to happen because Mr. Haines was once with his Aunt Debbie and it might not be nice but it was the truth that he liked the idea of Mr. Haines and Aunt Dusty being happy together and Aunt Debbie having to live with that. She’d hate it. Like, a lot. And Fin liked that.
And it needed to happen because it was a little weird reading it but there was no denying his Aunt Dusty really, really liked Mr. Haines. And the way she did, he knew, he didn’t know how but he still knew that kind of feeling didn’t die.
So it needed to happen for Aunt Dusty.
It was late. He was supposed to be asleep. But he didn’t hesitate grabbing his cell and scrolling to Aunt Dusty.
She answered on the first ring, her musical voice he always thought was kick-freaking-ass was heavy with obvious concern, “Hey, honey. It’s late. You okay?”
Fin took in a deep breath.
Then he said, “No.”
*
Like she was waiting for it, which she was, the minute her cell vibrated on her nightstand, Clarisse’s eyes opened and she snatched it up.
The display said, “Fin Calling”.
She’d turned off her ringer, just in case. And set it on her nightstand with more hope than certainty and when she said hope, she meant a whole lot of it.
And the call came.
She was breathing funny when she hit the button and put it to her ear.
“Hey.”
“Hey. It’s all good.”
She felt her belly flip and not just because dark-haired, tall, broad-shouldered, deep-voiced, available junior Fin Holliday was talking to her at past eleven at night when she was in bed in the dark. But also because he said it’s all good.
“Is she coming back?” Clarisse asked.
“Oh yeah.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“For how long?”
“Well, she’s bringin’ her horses and her kilns with her so, my guess, a while.”
“What?” Clarisse asked, not understanding.
“She makes pottery and has to fire it in kilns. And she has horses she likes to ride. So, what I’m sayin’ is, she’s comin’ up here long enough to stay a while, work a while and I know this because she isn’t leavin’ her kilns or her animals behind.”