Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Jennifer was a Finn through and through.
And her kindness didn’t surprise him either. She didn’t make any judgments about Stephen and Tasha or Owen and Jeremy. No, like the rest of them, her recriminations were entirely self-directed. She knew. She should have known. Her stubborn ignorance had brought this on her family.
It had taken more than few shots of tequila and a whole lot of talking to set her straight.
Jeremy glanced at Ellen Finn from beneath his lashes. They were all out of tequila now. How much did she know?
And where the hell was Owen?
Will talk later.
“Jeremy? Jen told me how much you helped her last night. And she also shared your thoughts on the Finns.”
His Finn Factor speech? Jeremy grimaced at Jen. What had he said exactly? “I hate to admit this, Mrs. Finn, but I’m pretty sure I was three sheets to the wind at the time. I didn’t mean to offend anyone.”
Ellen reached out and patted his arm. “I’ve always liked you, Jeremy. Maybe it’s because you’re an artist and a people watcher like me. And you saw something I didn’t…in more than one of my children. A mother’s love can sometimes blind her to what’s right in front of her. I’m very proud of my family’s success, but I don’t think I tell them enough that I’ll be proud of anything they choose, anyone they choose, as long as it makes them happy.”
She couldn’t be saying what he thought she was. Then again, this was Ellen Finn. His throat tightened and he leaned forward earnestly. “Mrs. Finn, you are the best mother I know who wasn’t written for television. Your kids, all your kids, know they’re loved.”
“We do, Mama.” Jen wiped a tear from her eye quickly, but not before her mother noticed and seemed to get a little weepy herself.
“Your father and I have never been more proud of you, darling. It takes a brave woman to acknowledge her mistakes and pick herself back up again.” Ellen looked at Jeremy then. “And I hope you know Shawn and I think of you as another son, Jeremy. We’ve always been proud of you too.”
Jeremy started to thank her, but almost spilled his coffee down his tee shirt when a familiar male voice came from the side of the house, beneath the balcony. “Are you talking about me, woman?”
“Yes, dear,” Ellen called down, standing as he came up the stairs. “We didn’t hear you knock but, oh good, you brought breakfast fixings. These three look like they could use something more than coffee.” She turned to a beet-red Jeremy. “Do you mind if I take over your kitchen for a bit?”
Dear God, this had to be a dream. A weird, slightly terrifying but beautiful dream brought on by the evil tequila. “Please. Can I help you with anything?”
Shawn Finn stopped by his chair and held out his hand. “Good man to offer, but that’s my job. Think of it as my way of apologizing for the female invasion you’ve had to endure all morning.”
Standing automatically, Jeremy looked down in surprise at the outstretched hand, then took it and smiled at the broad-shouldered older man, whose blond hair was still thick but liberally streaked with gray. “Thank you, sir, but it’s been a pleasure.”
“Smart boy.”
The couple disappeared into his house and he walked over to stand in front of Tasha and Jen, lowering his voice. “Am I awake? Did I eat the worm? What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” Tasha groaned. “But it’s freaking me out.”
Jen snorted. “How many years have you known us? You know what we Finns do whenever trouble crops up.”
They closed ranks and banded together. “Yes, but you don’t usually do it in my house.”
She reached up and patted his hip, smiling at the frowning Tasha. “You’re both a part of this family. My parents know it even if you don’t. So suck it up guys and feel the love. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
When she left, Jeremy held out his hand to Tasha. “Join me at the dock for coffee and crying?”
“Please.” She pulled him down the stairs, her coffee still clutched in one hand. “You need a boat.”
“It’s a lake, Tasha. You can circle a lake, but you can’t make a clean getaway if that’s what you’re thinking. We’re stuck.”
“He’s right,” said Stephen, who was leaning against a wooden post at the bottom of the stairs. “For a clean getaway you’d need a plane.”
No longer surprised by magically appearing Finns this morning, Jeremy nodded in his direction, “I’ll get on that right after the homeowner’s association installs my runway.”
Stephen Finn looked the way Jeremy felt. His light brown hair was mussed, there were shadows under his blue eyes and his tie was loose and limp around his neck. It was obvious he hadn’t gone to bed. “Hey, Jeremy. Natasha.”