Page 164 of My Merry Mistake
My eyes find Finn’s. “Oh?”
“Mostly that you’re out of his league,” one of the brothers cracks.
Another calls out, “Too good for him.”
The first turns to the second. “Too smart for him too.”
The second one turns to me and says, “Did you lose a bet?”
“Hey, shut up?” Finn says, then to me: “Like Momma said, ignore them.”
“It’s Christmas, boys, be civil.” Their mom shakes her head and says, “Boys,” with an exasperated eye roll.
I have to laugh because I can only imagine what it was like raising all these people.
“You’re pretty.” A little girl is standing right in front of me.
“Why, thank you, so are you,” I say back to her.
“I know,” the girl says with a shrug.
“That’s Libby,” Finn says. “And this is Jordy.” He picks up the smaller girl and tosses her over his shoulder. “Quent’s kids.”
Finn sets Jordy down, but not before fake-dropping her twice. She giggles, loud and long, and the sound of it makes everyone laugh.
He leads me further into the house, his hand on the small of my back. The ceilings are tall, and there’s a wall of windows at the back of the house with a perfect view of the mountains. There’s a little bit of snow on the ground, and the scene outside is breathtaking and peaceful. But the view inside is pretty incredible too. The biggest and most beautifully decorated Christmas tree I’ve ever seen is in the corner. It has to be at least fourteen feet tall. It’s massive but also impeccably and rustically decorated. There are dozens of wrapped gifts underneath, and crocheted stockings—nine of them, each with a letter or two on the top—hang from a wooden mantel above a large, stone fireplace.
The entire house looks and smells like Christmas, and I’m starting to understand why Finn has so much holiday spirit.
I turn to him. “How are you not homesick every single day you’re not here?”
He smiles. “Iamhomesick every single day I’m not here.”
“Boys, manners.” Melinda pops one of the guys on the back of the head. He stands, pulls off his ball cap, and holds it in front of him, like a kid brought to apologize to the neighbor for breaking a window.
Iimmediatelylove her.
He raises a hand in a wave. “Hi. Pleasure.”
“That’s West,” Finn says. “And these are my other brothers, Quent and Boone. Just stay away from them. They’re terrible, awful people.”
I laugh. “I think you’re just scared they’ll tell me stories about you.”
His brothers laugh, and so do I, instantly loving the connection he has with them.
“Nice to meet you guys,” I say.
“You sure you’re here for him?” Boone asks, a lazy grin hanging loose on his mouth.
Finn’s mom doesn’t give me a chance to respond. She wraps an arm through mine and says, “Thatone is a terrible flirt. Like his dad, but dumber.”
“Hey! You said I was the favorite!”
“I lied,” she says, leading me into the kitchen, and I’m glad that Finn is close behind, though it would be hard to feel out of place among such friendly people.
This makes me think of my own family—equally as warm and inviting. I have a fleeting vision of our families getting together over the holidays and the madness that would ensue.
I have the overwhelming sense they would fit like puzzle pieces.
