Chapter 18

 

 

 

 

 

Gia

 

I’m late. By the time I get to Grand Central, our train is about to leave the station and Finn isn’t all that pleased with me. I couldn’t help it. It took me forever to pry myself up and off my floor. Even longer to stop my tears.

I think I might be falling for Finn Banner.

It’s a cruel reality to face. Especially since I know he doesn’t feel the same way back.

Finn doesn’t comment beyond his bruising scowl. And he spends the entire train ride up to Westchester, on his phone silently ignoring me. No sideways glances. No surreptitious looks. Nothing. I might as well be a stranger and I’m starting to think his comment about things being awkward was dead on. I don’t even have the courage to thank him for the present because I might get choked up again and that’s the last thing I want.

But the moment we pull into the station and the train lurches to a stop, he stands up and takes my hand. Like he knows I need the comfort. The support. I do. I didn’t realize how much the idea of my mother having a man friend would bother me. Or maybe it’s just the day she’s presenting him on? I don’t know. It just sucks.

We step off the train and my eyes don’t have to go far to find my mother standing next to her Mercedes SUV. And next to her is…George Santiago. What the fuck? What happened to talking about this? I assumed she was going to tell me more about him, we’d talk, and then he’d meet us at the restaurant. But at the goddamn train?

“I know you’re…something with me,” I say to Finn, staring straight at my mother. “But thank you for coming with me. In this moment, you really are my hero.”

Finn squeezes my hand. “I’m definitely something with you, Gia. But I’m happy to be here for you if that’s what you need. Hero or not.”

If I had it in me, his comment would make me smile. But I don’t. “Let’s get this over with.”

We step off the platform and head to the parking lot. “Gia,” my mother coos. “Happy birthday, baby girl.” Her arms are outstretched like she hasn’t seen me in a decade. She gives me a two-cheek kiss–which she’s never done before–and then stops when she looks past my shoulder and spots Finn. “Dr. Banner?”

My mother can’t quite figure this out. But really, was I supposed to tell her about him before now? No. No I wasn’t. There was nothing to tell. And there probably still isn’t. Other than the fact he’s physically present with me. “Mrs. Bianchi,” he says, extending his hand to shake hers. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. Especially under better circumstances.”

My mother shakes his hand, but her eyes are on me with a look which questions my basic sanity. “He works with me, Mom. At the hospital. He’s my…” Crap balls. What are we? Nothing. How sad is that? I can’t even call him my friend. I probably should have thought this through more than I did.

“Finn,” Finn supplies. Was he just saying his name or was he finishing my sentence?

My mother’s eyes widen and mine do as well and we both stare over at him. Then she smiles the smile of an elated mother who thinks he’s my new special someone. I frown because he not. He freaking sent me home in a cab last night because he didn’t want to be my Finn so that makes him a liar. Not a liar to me, I suspect, but a liar to my mother. Or maybe I’m reading way more into this than I should.

My mother finally manages to blink, though I still haven’t found that semi-automatic response yet. “Finn,” she asserts in that motherly intonation. “I’m so pleased you could join us.” She takes a step back and then reaches out for George who steps forward and takes her hand. Then he kisses it tenderly. In front of me. Finn is still holding my hand I realize, because he gives me another squeeze. “This is my man friend, George.”

I cannot believe she actually used the term man friend in front of him. I thought that was like a joke or a placeholder or something. Not actual descriptive words.

George envelopes me in a hug. He doesn’t even give me the option for anything less. He’s average height with a small round pot belly, and a full head of thick silver hair. He smells like he bathed in cologne. Expensive cologne at that. He’s wearing a bright-blue polo shirt, which seems to correlate with Finn’s eyes more than George’s dark furry arms and brown pants. Who wears brown pants? They’re not even khaki.

“Happy birthday, Gia” he booms and holy Jesus is his voice loud. Like a sports-announcer-with-a-megaphone loud. I wince. It’s not a voluntary reaction. It just happens. “It’s so great to meet you,” he yells. And I’m deaf. Like officially. My ears are ringing. Full-on tinnitus. But he has a warm smile and soft brown eyes and my mother is beaming.

Shit. I can’t hate him.

Finn releases my hand and takes my arm, pulling me back and tucking me into his side. I have no idea who this Finn is. All of this is very confusing. On so many levels in so many ways.

“Your mother talks about you constantly.” More yelling before he turns on Finn. “Finn, is it?” He reaches out his hand and they shake. “These women are a handful,” he laughs loudly, patting his belly. I’m not laughing. But my mother is. No, she’s giggling. “Glad I’m not the only male presence tonight.”

What the hell does that even mean?

I look to Finn. He’s smirking. He’s trying not to laugh, which means he’s absolutely no help.

“Let’s get to the restaurant. I thought we would go to that steak place you like,” My mother says, her attention focused on me, but she can’t possibly be talking to me. I don’t eat steak. I’ve never eaten steak. Hamburgers are the extent of my red meat. She’s my mother, which means she knows this already.

So there is no steak place which I like.

My mother is all girlish flutters as George kisses her hand again. I have no words. I don’t know what to say. I just watch as he helps her into the passenger side of her car and shuts the door behind her. He throws us a wink as he moves around and gets into the driver’s side.

“Is it too late to make a run for it?” I whisper. I still haven’t moved. I’m standing, tucked into Finn’s side as my mother and her new man friend sit patiently in her car waiting on us. It’s like I’ve stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. Nothing is as it’s supposed to be.

“Are you kidding me?” Finn chuckles, dragging me over to the side of the car. “We’re going to that steak place you like.”

“I hate steak, Finn.”

“Hmmm…well, I have nothing for that. Let’s just get through this meal and I’ll buy you a drink or a cupcake or something after.”

My eyes move on their own volition. My feet stop moving without conscious thought. I just stare up at him. I don’t know if I should thank him again or ask him what he was intimating at when he finished my sentence earlier. I don’t know if I should kiss him or slap him. I just don’t know with him.

He stares back at me and for a moment, that’s all there is.

I’m still trapped in my indecision as he blinks, opens my car door for me and helps me slip inside.

The heat is blasting to an audible degree. Finn takes my hand quietly in the dark, but his attention is trained out the window at the passing landscape. Not even five minutes later, we pull up in front of a chain steak restaurant and a valet eagerly rushes over to open our doors. Finn steps out, waits for me and extends his hand to take as he helps me out of the car.

“Thank you for my present,” I say to him as we follow my mom and George inside the restaurant. “I love it.” Understatement of the century.

“It was my pleasure, Gia.”

That’s the last thing Finn says to me the entire night we’re with my mom and George. He doesn’t look over at me. He barely acknowledges me. Except for his hand. His hand absolutely acknowledges me.

Finn finishes his steak, sets down his fork and knife. Wipes his mouth with his napkin before setting that down too. He’s listening to something George is saying–because George hasn’t stopped talking–and suddenly, I feel his hand on the cushioned booth between us, his thumb absently brushing my leg.

Then, ever so slowly, with obvious methodical intention, his hand skims across my exposed thigh, pushes my crossed leg away so that my legs are side by side and partially open. And then his hand engulfs my right thigh. My dress is relatively short. Not obscene by any means, but well, I knew Finn was coming to dinner. So I wore something a little on the sexy side. Now he’s taking full advantage of the length I chose.

But that’s it. His hand doesn’t move. It just rests comfortably and much like everything else with him, I can’t figure out what he’s doing. Except for that thumb. Jesus shit. That thumb is gliding up and down and if I weren’t chatting with my mother, I’d moan. Loud. It’s as exciting as it is frustrating. It’s also consuming. It becomes all I can think about while George tells us the details of a cruise he wants to take my mother on.

It continues like this until George asks, “So what’s the dating scene like out there for you kids these days?” The sip of wine I was in the midst of swallowing gets sucked into my trachea instead of my esophagus as I breath in and choke. Finn pats my back twice before moving his hand back to my leg as I gulp down water, spluttering into it as I go. “Your mother mentioned that Colin boy you had been dating,” he continues, ignoring the way I’m gasping for air, “But I see you got rid of him.” He wink–actually freaking winks–at Finn.

“Yes,” my mother chimes in with a big nod of her head. “I have to admit, I wasn’t disappointed you ended it with him. He sounded like a real…” she pauses, tilting her head at me, “What was the term Chloe had for him?” I close my eyes, willing this night to be over. “Douchetard? That was it, right?” Both my mother and George start cackling rather loudly at my expense and I can feel my cheeks turning an exuberant shade of red.

I don’t think I expected the word douchetard to come out of my mother’s mouth. It would be funny if this situation wasn’t so fucked up.

Finn’s hand squeezes my upper thigh, his goddamn thumb is practically brushing the thin fabric covering my pussy, but his expression is placid. He’s not giving anything away.

“Mom, can we not go there?”

“Oh right,” she laughs again, nudging George in his side. “Not in front of Finn.” She winks at me like we have an inside joke going. “I get it.” And I want to die.

“Can we get the check?” I might be begging.

“No dessert? It’s your birthday.” My mother looks hurt and now I feel bad.

“You have to get dessert, Gia,” George says, taking my mother’s hand. “Your mother wants them to sing to you.”

“Yes, Gia,” Finn concurs with that satisfied smirk as he continues to torture me with his thumb. “They have to sing to you.”

Asshole!

And that’s what happens. My mother orders Tiramisu because it’s my favorite dessert and even though she brought me to a steak place, my mother loves me and knows what I like. After they sing to me and George graciously picks up the bill, despite Finn’s objections, they take us to the train station just in time to catch the 9:10 back to Grand Central.

Finn still hasn’t said one word to me since that one time at dessert and even though he had his hand on my thigh for the better part of an hour, I can’t help but feel like I made an epic mistake bringing him with me.

In fact, it’s making me morose. I asked him to come in a moment of weakness without thinking it through. Finn doesn’t want to date me. Finn doesn’t want my mother thinking that we’re dating. He was trying to be a nice guy by saying yes to my begging. That’s all this was.

We get on the train and it’s pretty much empty. We have the whole car to ourselves save for a few college-aged kids at the front who are laughing as they pass their phones back and forth. I sit down heavily, crossing my arms and legs, my eyes immediately going to the window. To my surprise, Finn sits next to me.

“I’m sorry,” I say to the glass, though I’m actually watching his reflection in it. “I shouldn’t have asked you along. I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry you got sucked into all that.”

He doesn’t say anything for so long that I eventually close my eyes so that I won’t obsess over him in the glass. But then I feel his hand on my thigh again, where it meets the edge of my long coat. My head finally falls against his shoulder and that’s how we spend the hour or so it takes to get back into the city.