Wedding at Mistletoe Chalet Page 7

  “That must have been… I can’t wrap my head around it. You were going to be a football star! Not deliver babies.”

  “It’s not that different,” he said dryly. “A lot of pressure to make the catch.”

  She wanted to roll her eyes, but wound up chuckling, mostly because his deadpan joke was such classic Finn. This was a ridiculously awkward visit, yet felt weirdly good.

  She brought the plate of cookies to the table while the coffee burbled behind her.

  “Hey, I remember these.” He picked up an elf-button cookie and popped the whole thing into his mouth. He closed his eyes and made a noise of appreciation as he chewed. “This tastes like every Christmas block party I ever attended.”

  Sarah came through the door from the basement, letting Bonzo in with her. The dog knew to come to the lower doors when he wanted in, so he could be dried off in the basement without tracking paw prints through the house. He went straight through the swing door into the great room, heading for his spot by the fire.

  Sarah held a cake pan of fresh snow.

  “I forgot I put this outside this morning. I just saw it again. I want to try making maple syrup taffy, but I can do it later.”

  “No, go ahead and make it,” Kristen hurried to say, wanting the buffer of Sarah’s presence. “Finn and I are just catching up.”

  “Cool.” Sarah set the pan in the freezer.

  Finn might have sent her a look, but Kristen refused to meet his gaze, saying instead, “Finn delivered a baby last week.” She might feel defensive around him, but she was still compelled to brag on his behalf. “He’s a doctor.”

  “Resident,” Finn clarified. “A few more months and a few more hoops and barrels before I can start my own practice.”

  “Are you going to be a pediatrician?” Sarah asked.

  “A family doctor, but I’d like to practice in a rural area. Delivery skills are good to have when you’re a few hours from the nearest specialist. I get as much experience with maternal and infant care as I can.”

  “There are incentives for rural doctors, aren’t there?” Kristen asked.

  “Most states offer some. You have to be willing to spend a few years wherever they send you. I’ll likely go that route.”

  “It seems so strange to think of you as a doctor.” Kristen moved to get mugs out of the cupboard. “We all expected you would play professionally and give us free tickets to the Super Bowl the rest of our lives.”

  “Instead, I will give you my best ‘eat well and exercise’ lectures.” He tucked his hands palm out in the back pockets of his jeans.

  He must be taking his own advice because even though he wasn’t as lean as he’d been in those first years of college, he was still trim and built for sport. She had to force herself not to ogle.

  While he was eyeing her as though he knew she was throwing up smokescreens to avoid whatever he had come here to talk about—which she was.

  “Being a doctor is like being an orthodontist, isn’t it?” Sarah came back from the pantry with a jug of syrup. “It takes a long time and lots of studying?”

  “It’s exactly like becoming a doctor, just a different kind. Are you thinking about becoming an orthodontist?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you like your orthodontist?” Kristen asked. “Is that what made you think of it as a career?”

  Sarah nodded. “She’s really nice. I didn’t want braces and thought they were uglier than having crooked teeth. I was crying about it when we went to the first appointment. I didn’t even want to open my mouth.” She made a sheepish face as she tightly clamped her lips in demonstration. “But she was like, ‘I didn’t become an orthodontist to ruin children’s lives. I want to help them.’ It made me laugh.”

  Kristen chuckled. “She sounds awesome.”

  “She is. She said it makes her so happy when she sees kids smiling when before they were afraid to smile in a photo and that she’s helped grown-ups who didn’t even like to talk to people because they were so embarrassed about their teeth. I thought maybe I’d like to help people like that, but I looked it up and it’s a lot of work.”

  “It is,” Finn confirmed. “I won’t kid you about that part. You have to give up a lot.”

  Kristen did look at him then and found him staring right at her, his intensity causing a squeeze around her lungs.

  “How did you know that you wanted to do it?” Sarah asked, setting a small saucepan on the island.

  “It was just something I always knew I wanted to do, but I thought it was something I could pursue later. I went to college on a football scholarship and thought I would do that first.”

  “Football sounds easier and more fun. Why didn’t you stick with it?”

  “It’s still work, believe me. But I got a concussion in my third year and was benched for a few weeks.”

  Kristen sensed he was looking at her again, but she concentrated on pouring their coffee.

  “I told my doctor I was thinking about going into sports medicine after football. He was one of these older guys who does this.”

  Kristen was coming across with their coffee. Finn set his hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye.

  “He said, ‘Son, if you want to be a doctor, start now and don’t do anything else.’”

  Kristen swallowed, then lifted her brows. Was that what their breakup had been? Doctor’s orders?

  “So I did.” Finn dropped his hand off her shoulder and took the coffee Kristen offered. “I had to give up my last year of scholarship, pay for the rest of my degree and hope like heck I got accepted into med school, but I can’t say I regret that part.”

  What about the part where he had told her not to come, even though he’d been injured? The part where he said they should break up, even though she had offered—albeit impulsively—to change directions to be with him?

  They were still staring into each other’s eyes. His gaze was steady, not brimming with apology.

  “Thanks.” He sipped his coffee, mouth tense.

  The weight of his hand left a warm imprint on her shoulder that she could still feel as she slithered into the booth.

  “When did you guys date?” Sarah asked.

  Bless her, Kristen thought with a wince.

  “The summer after I finished high school. Finn was home from college and—Well, I think you were mostly filling time because Carson was working, wasn’t he?”

  “That’s not true. I mean, he was working. Stocking groceries on night shift. I was helping Dad re-roof the garage. We always got up early to work before it got too hot and I’d wave at Carson when he came home every morning.” Finn gave a friendly wave. “But you and I had always been friends.”

  “Because you were always nice about having a tagalong.” She had put that into perspective a long time ago. “You knew what it was like to be the youngest.”

  Kristen was fairly close in age to Carson, but there was a bigger gap between Finn and his older sisters. Sheryl and Penny had always seemed very grown-up to her. They were both married and had kids in grade school already.

  “It wasn’t a hardship to have you around. You liked doing whatever we were doing,” Finn noted, sipping coffee that he had left black. “It never felt like you were holding us back or intruding. Actually, you always whipped my butt in the pool, which never made sense to me. I’m a decent swimmer. You’re part otter, I think.”

  Sarah chuckled as she measured syrup into the saucepan. “Was your brother mad when you guys started dating?”

  “Oh.” Kristen groaned and looked to the ceiling.

  “We should have warned him,” Finn said, his tone telling her he was right back there with her.

  “What happened?” Sarah asked with amused curiosity, sensing a story.

  Kristen crooked her knee on the bench as she shifted to face Sarah.

  “Finn invited me to see a movie and Carson wound up with the night off. He just assumed we were all going together. I was usually the tagalong. The whole way t
here, Finn is driving and looking in the mirror at me because Carson took the shotgun seat. We didn’t know how to tell him we were on a date. Carson finally figured it out when Finn bought my ticket.”

  “And I don’t think he was that upset about us dating,” Finn said in a wry drawl. “He was more annoyed that we were seeing a romantic comedy. He wanted to see the superhero flick.”

  “Couldn’t he have gone to see it by himself and meet you after?” Sarah asked.

  “I can’t recall what was playing in the other one,” Kristen frowned at Finn. “Probably something important and meaningful. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to see it.”

  “No, he was mad. All three of us sat through the romcom and I don’t think any of us could tell you what it was about. I was terrified to hold your hand.” Finn quirked his mouth in laughter at himself. “My palm was sweaty and I thought I’d only make him angrier if I made the date any more obvious.”

  “Aww,” Sarah said, setting the syrup to warm and stirring it. “Is that why you guys broke up? Because you didn’t want Carson to be mad at you?”

  “No. We dated the rest of the summer and Carson was fine with it. We broke up after we left for different colleges.” Kristen looked away from whatever was brimming in Finn’s warm brown eyes.

  “We were too young to get serious,” Finn reminded her gently. “We both had plans to travel. You went away, didn’t you? What happened to bring you home?” He shifted to sit forward, stole a cookie off the plate, but kept his attention on her, interested in the way she had always appreciated about him, even though she found it disconcerting today.

  “Turns out I’m a homebody,” she confessed. “I didn’t love exotic places as much as I love the familiar. Which makes me sound really boring.” Was that why he had lost interest in her?

  “That’s not boring. I like vanilla ice cream. Does that make me boring?”

  “Have you seen the price of vanilla lately?” she shot back. “It’s pretty darned exotic these days.”

  Her lame joke made a slow smile spread across his face, as though he took some special pleasure in her silly banter. Their gazes locked. A crackling awareness grew but it seemed to be layered with melancholy.

  Finn broke the spell, turning his head to say to Sarah, “I’m thinking of switching to maple nut. That smells really good.”

  Kristen had pretty much forgotten they had an audience. She looked into her coffee, embarrassed at having succumbed to a moment of magnetism. Finn probably had a girlfriend, she realized belatedly. She doubted his reason for turning up this way was a sudden realization that he had missed her.

  “It’s just syrup,” Sarah said with a chuckle. “No nuts or anything else.”

  “That’s how long it’s been since I’ve had home cooking. The smell of warm syrup makes me hungry.”

  “How long has it been since you two saw each other?” Sarah took the pan of snow out of the freezer.

  “Carson’s wedding,” Kristen said, pasting on a smile of false cheer. “How is Hannah?” The perfectly nice young woman had come to Carson’s wedding as Finn’s date. She had seemed genuine and smart and very much Finn’s type.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted baldly. “I thought dating someone who is also in med school would mean that we would understand the demands of each other’s schedule. Turns out you see even less of each other than you do if you’re dating someone who has a more typical nine-to-five job. Except those people don’t really want to wait around when you’ve suddenly had to work late, or finish eating alone because you’re on call and a patient needs you.”

  “So you don’t have a girlfriend?” Sarah clarified. The matchmaking aspirations were loud as wedding bells in the girl’s tone.

  “Engaged to my education,” Finn told her. A small frown formed between his brows as he asked Kristen point-blank, “Are you seeing anyone?”

  It was a totally normal question for a former neighbor to ask.

  It still felt very personal. And kind of lowering to admit, “No. Not right now. Not something that’s even on my radar. I’m concentrating on my career.”

  He nodded understanding.

  “Why, um, family practice instead of sports?” Kristen asked.

  “A bunch of reasons, but community is a big one. Much as I couldn’t wait to get away and experience the big city when I was eighteen, I’ve since come to appreciate small-town life. I’m not the guy who wants to go to dinner and a Broadway show when I have a day off. I want to drop off the grid. Go fishing or hiking. Snowboarding.”

  He hadn’t changed. Canoeing, swimming, Frisbee in the park. Those were all things the three of them had done all summer, every summer.

  “Ta-da!” Sarah held up a Popsicle stick with a knot of taffy tangled on one end.

  “How did you do that?” Kristen rose to watch and Finn came to stand beside her.

  Sarah had poured the warmed syrup in stripes across the shallow pan of snow. Handing Kristen the first stick, she took a second and dabbed it on the end of a stripe of syrup. When it began to stick, she carefully rolled until it was a second golden ball of caramel. She gave it to Finn.

  “I’ll make some for the guests and put them out later with dessert.” She rolled a third and stuck the end in the corner of the pan, so the snow held it standing upright.

  “This is great, thank you,” Finn said, nipping at the taffy as they took their seats. “I feel like we’re back at the fall fair.”

  “Does your dad still enter half his garden?”

  “He does.”

  They talked as well as they could around eating the sticky taffy. Sarah finished making sticks and took one to Wendy, but came back with it, saying with a frown, “Wendy is napping on the sofa.”

  “She quit coffee. It’s probably making her extra sleepy,” Kristen prevaricated. “I’ll do the dinner prep. She can rest.”

  “I’m going to get my book and read it in there.” Sarah was clearly concerned.

  “I can stay until she wakes up. Make sure it’s nothing serious,” Finn offered.

  “Really? You don’t mind?” Sarah brightened.

  “Not at all. Unless I’m keeping you from work?” he asked Kristen.

  She hesitated, but Sarah giggled and pointed to the floor beside the island.

  “She works right here.”

  Kristen smiled faintly and glanced at the clock. It was still a few hours before Ted came off the hill. “I have a little time before I have to get busy.”

  She might as well let him say what he had come to say and get it over with.

  Sarah went into the other room and Kristen freshened their coffee.

  “How’s Carson?” Finn asked. “I saw they’re expecting their third. That’s a lot of babies in a few short years.”

  “Yeah, they finally figured out what’s causing it and booked him into the vet.”

  Finn chuckled, but Kristen didn’t. As she sat, she cupped her mug in two hands, using it as a small shield as she asked, “What did you want to talk about?”

  “I just…” He hesitated, turned his palm up where his hand rested on the table. “Mom said you were alone this year. That she had invited you to join us and…” He shrugged. “I was worried you refused because of me.”

  “I’ve worked through Christmas before. It had nothing to do with you and I survived every time.”

  His mouth tightened and he looked out the window, nodded, expression distant. “I hear now how conceited it sounds. When I talked to Mom…”

  “I sounded more pitiful?” she supplied.

  “No,” he said firmly, flashing her a glance that scolded. “Nothing like that. But half of us are staying in your house. Obviously, you’re welcome there with us. I wanted to be sure you knew that.”

  “Thank you,” she said, trying to accept his gesture at face value and be gracious not stung. “But this job is actually an opportunity I wanted.”

  “Yeah?” His fingers loosely bracketed his own mug where he left it on the table. “You
’re happy with where you’ve ended up?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “No reason, but…how would I know either way? I haven’t heard from you in all this time.”

  “Same,” she pointed out.

  “Guilty.” He made a face and looked away. “This has been a grueling bunch of years. Even so, when I did see you at Carson’s wedding…”

  “Finn,” she forestalled. “It’s not like we were engaged. We should have made a clean break at the end of summer. Everyone warned us the distance would break us. One of us was going to pull the pin eventually. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  The tension around his mouth remained. “I didn’t know how to ask you to come down a road I couldn’t even see. And you had plans of your own,” he reminded her. “You were in your first year of college. I couldn’t ask you to completely rewrite your plans just because I was rewriting mine. Would you have gone overseas if I had? No.”

  “So you came here to ask me to forgive you for giving me the freedom to pursue my dreams? There’s nothing to forgive. It was a teenaged crush. I got over it.”

  Something in the way his expression turned so stony made her wish she hadn’t been quite so cavalier. She had actually nursed her heartbreak a long time. She still didn’t date much, partly because she didn’t want to get hurt again.

  A sudden clatter of equipment hitting the cages made her jump. She flashed another look at the clock. “They’re early!”

  She shot to her feet and opened the door to the basement.

  Ted was hurrying up toward her. “Hi, Kristen. Where’s Wendy?”

  “Sleeping. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, just we lost visibility and had to cut the day short. Oh, hey,” he said, coming into the kitchen and sending a distracted nod toward Finn as Finn rose from the table. Ted smiled past Kristen as Wendy came in, blinking with the confusion of waking from a nap. Sarah was right behind her.

  “Hey,” Wendy said on a yawn. “What’s going on?”

  Ted’s brow wrinkled in affectionate concern. “You okay?”

  “Just had a little nap,” she said around a second, persistent yawn. “You’re early.”

  “It was turning into a whiteout. I checked with search and rescue. They said the weather won’t ease up until morning. Highways closed the gates.”