mouth twitched a little, but he didn’t laugh.
“I guess we always thought you’d tell us when you were ready.”
His voice was just as calm, just as gentle as it usually was when he talked to her, but this time there was a tinge of something else—sadness, maybe—that reached in and sliced open a bit of her heart. In all the years she’d been at the Buoys, she’d never once considered that her refusal to talk about it might bother them in the same way it bothered her that they wouldn’t talk about Maggie.
“Finn.” She didn’t even know if she said it out loud, because he gave no indication he’d heard her.
“You get this look on your face.” He stopped, glanced down at the floor, and licked his lips before looking up again. “It was there last spring when I went off the dock, and it was there again tonight. It’s like you’re…I don’t know…kind of like you’re reliving whatever it is over and over, and it never seems to get easier for you.”
He was bang on with that; no matter how much time passed, it hadn’t gotten even a tiny bit easier. But not talking about it was still a hell of a lot easier than telling someone—
anyone
—that she was the reason her sister was dead.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s your business, but I don’t know how you’ll ever really get through this if you don’t.”
Jessie’s throat, clogged with fear, opened just enough for her to croak out, “I don’t know if I can.”
There it was again: the way his eyes smiled at her, not in any kind of joking way but with a warm, confident glow.
“You didn’t think you’d ever get in the water again, either, but you did.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, wishing she could smile back at him. “I did.”
“Maybe all you need to do is find someone you trust enough.” Finn lifted his hands in resignation as he took a couple of backward steps down the hall. “See you in the morning.”
“Uh, yeah. Okay. ’Night.” Jessie stepped inside her room, closed the door, then slumped against it.
What did he mean by that? Did he think she didn’t trust him? Good grief, there was no one she trusted more than Finn. Sure, she trusted Ronan and Liam, but could she tell either of them about Tracy? It wasn’t that they wouldn’t listen, because she knew they would. She just wasn’t sure how they could possibly understand.
Finn, on the other hand…She’d seen with her own eyes the way he’d accepted the blame Jimmy heaped on him. He knew what it was like to carry that blame around every minute of every day, to wear it like a second skin. And he knew that it didn’t matter how much time passed or what anyone else said: When you looked in your parents’ eyes, you saw the truth.
That was something a kid never forgot, no matter how old she got or how many hours she’d spent in a therapist’s office.
Chapter 4
“Men, like fish, get into trouble when they open their mouths.”
From the second Finn opened his eyes the next morning, he planned on doing one thing: keeping his big ol’ piehole shut. If Jess didn’t want to talk about what happened to her, that was her business, not his. Had he ever told anyone what happened the night Ma left?
Hell no. Would it make a spit of difference to any of them at this point? The thirty-year-old man in him said probably not, but the ten-year-old in his head still lived in fear that once the truth got out, Ronan and Liam would hate him for not only being the reason Ma left but for being the reason Da laid so many beatings on them.
Nope, best to let that sleeping dog lie.
Shaking it off, he followed his nose into the kitchen, where the rest of them had already gathered.
“What’s the occasion?” Liam asked Jess. “You haven’t made perked coffee since…well, hell, I don’t even know.”
High days and holy days, that was the only time she ever pulled out the percolator. Every other day was plain old drip coffee.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,”
“I guess we always thought you’d tell us when you were ready.”
His voice was just as calm, just as gentle as it usually was when he talked to her, but this time there was a tinge of something else—sadness, maybe—that reached in and sliced open a bit of her heart. In all the years she’d been at the Buoys, she’d never once considered that her refusal to talk about it might bother them in the same way it bothered her that they wouldn’t talk about Maggie.
“Finn.” She didn’t even know if she said it out loud, because he gave no indication he’d heard her.
“You get this look on your face.” He stopped, glanced down at the floor, and licked his lips before looking up again. “It was there last spring when I went off the dock, and it was there again tonight. It’s like you’re…I don’t know…kind of like you’re reliving whatever it is over and over, and it never seems to get easier for you.”
He was bang on with that; no matter how much time passed, it hadn’t gotten even a tiny bit easier. But not talking about it was still a hell of a lot easier than telling someone—
anyone
—that she was the reason her sister was dead.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s your business, but I don’t know how you’ll ever really get through this if you don’t.”
Jessie’s throat, clogged with fear, opened just enough for her to croak out, “I don’t know if I can.”
There it was again: the way his eyes smiled at her, not in any kind of joking way but with a warm, confident glow.
“You didn’t think you’d ever get in the water again, either, but you did.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, wishing she could smile back at him. “I did.”
“Maybe all you need to do is find someone you trust enough.” Finn lifted his hands in resignation as he took a couple of backward steps down the hall. “See you in the morning.”
“Uh, yeah. Okay. ’Night.” Jessie stepped inside her room, closed the door, then slumped against it.
What did he mean by that? Did he think she didn’t trust him? Good grief, there was no one she trusted more than Finn. Sure, she trusted Ronan and Liam, but could she tell either of them about Tracy? It wasn’t that they wouldn’t listen, because she knew they would. She just wasn’t sure how they could possibly understand.
Finn, on the other hand…She’d seen with her own eyes the way he’d accepted the blame Jimmy heaped on him. He knew what it was like to carry that blame around every minute of every day, to wear it like a second skin. And he knew that it didn’t matter how much time passed or what anyone else said: When you looked in your parents’ eyes, you saw the truth.
That was something a kid never forgot, no matter how old she got or how many hours she’d spent in a therapist’s office.
Chapter 4
“Men, like fish, get into trouble when they open their mouths.”
From the second Finn opened his eyes the next morning, he planned on doing one thing: keeping his big ol’ piehole shut. If Jess didn’t want to talk about what happened to her, that was her business, not his. Had he ever told anyone what happened the night Ma left?
Hell no. Would it make a spit of difference to any of them at this point? The thirty-year-old man in him said probably not, but the ten-year-old in his head still lived in fear that once the truth got out, Ronan and Liam would hate him for not only being the reason Ma left but for being the reason Da laid so many beatings on them.
Nope, best to let that sleeping dog lie.
Shaking it off, he followed his nose into the kitchen, where the rest of them had already gathered.
“What’s the occasion?” Liam asked Jess. “You haven’t made perked coffee since…well, hell, I don’t even know.”
High days and holy days, that was the only time she ever pulled out the percolator. Every other day was plain old drip coffee.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,”
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