Page 169 of My Merry Mistake
“A new pony?” Jordy asks.
A quiet laugh ripples around the room.
“No, not a pony,” Finn says.
“Aww,” Jordy says.
“We’ve all been through a lot. We lost a big part of our family when Hunter died, and we all deal with it in our own way. I’ve been dealing with it by pretending it never happened, but being home has made me realize that if I pretend it never happened, I might as well pretend he never existed. And I don’t want to do that anymore.” Finn pauses, then looks at me, and I can almost feel him deciding to forgive Eileen again. I wonder if it feels any easier today than it did yesterday.
Finn pulls in a deep breath and turns the sign around to reveal the words:The Hunter Holbrook Community Center.The room falls silent.
“I don’t talk about him because I’m afraid it’ll bring the mood down, or people will look at me sideways, knowing that I had some big tragedy in my family, or whatever.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s stupid. I realized it’s stupid to hold back when you love somebody—shouldn’t we tell everyone about him—to keep him alive?” He scoffs. “I realized that when I was talking to Eileen, of all people.” He shakes his head again. “Never thoughtI’d learn anything from that woman.” He stops, almost like he doesn’t want this to be about her.
“Last night, when we were all telling stories about him, I didn’t feel sad,” Finn says. “I felt like a part of him was still here with us. Like he was still schooling Quent on the ice.”
A quiet laugh fills the room.
“Still driving Momma crazy, eating spoonfuls of cookie dough before she could bake them.”
“Hediddo that, the stinker,” Finn’s mom says, with a smile.
“Still telling me that I could do anything I set my mind to,” Finn says, his voice cracking a little.
“Yep, he did, Skip,” his dad says. “And look where you are now.”
Finn smiles at him, then carries his smile around the room to the rest of his family.
“When we started helping at the community center, it was always a response to what we’d been through and wanting to make things better for people—something Hunter would’ve loved, you know? So—we still have to make it official with the board and all that boring stuff, but,” he shakes the sign, “when we open in the new building, it’ll really be in his honor, and everyone will know it.”
Finn’s parents stand and hug him, and soon everyone joins in. Jordy crawls into my lap, and Libby sits right next to me, and somehow, instead of feeling out of place, I feel like a part of them. And that has to be the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.
That night, as we sit in the airport after a full day of gifts, food, tradition, and fun, Finn pulls a sheet of paper from his bag. It’s handwritten and messy, with chicken scratches and whole words crossed out.
I frown. “What’s this?”
“My resumé,” he says.
I look down and see his name, in all caps, centered across the top of the page.
Beneath that he has it broken down into Objective, Qualifications, Experience, Special Skills . . . he actually made a real resumé.
I fight a smile. “Okay, when in the world did you . . .?”
“I wrote it while you learned to make buttons and bows with my mom,” he says. “Imightbe a bit overqualified, but you should definitely hire me anyway.” He takes a drink of his water but keeps his eyes on me. He taps it. “Read it.”
I make a show of holding it up. “Finneus James Holbrook.” I chuckle. “I’m definitely calling you Finneus from now on.”
“Only when I forget to take off my boots in the house.”
I smile and clear my throat, start with Objective, and read the whole thing.
When I finish, I look at him.
His eyebrows shoot up. “So?”
I press my lips together, but I can’t hide the smile. “You’re so hired.”
“I’d like to start immediately.” He stands in front of me, reaching out his hands for mine, and I tuck the paper into my bag and stand. Once we’re face-to-face, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. “I know we’re in the airport, but”—he looks around—“there’s hardly anyone here, and I really want to kiss you right now.”
