“Slow down, Katy. You know you get lightheaded,” Shayna said.
I thought I heard Finn come in the front door. He was probably standing there, just inside the entry feeling awkward and not daring to venture any further.
“And I don’t think Finn, Bonnie, and you can all fit in the fold-out bed. A little crowded, sis, don’t you think?” Shayna was trying to discourage the group sleepover, and Katy wasn’t hearing any of it.
“I have to pee! Don’t leave, Bonnie, okay?”
I stood and headed for the door, wanting to reassure Finn. Wanting to make sure he didn’t leave without me.
“I saw something about you and Finn on Entertainment Buzz or one of those shows at the hospital,” Shayna blurted out as I moved to walk past her. “I was just flipping through channels. I stopped when I saw they were talking about you, thinking that Katy would want to watch, but she’d fallen asleep. They said you’d been taken, or something. They tried to sound serious, but mostly they all just sounded really excited. I felt really sad for you, and I was glad Katy was asleep. It would have upset her to think you were missing.”
“Leave it to E-Buzz to get it all wrong,” I said and forced a laugh. “Finn didn’t take me, obviously. I think you can see that I’m fine. And he’s a good guy.”
“So you’re . . . okay?”
“Tell me this, Shayna. Do I seem like I’m in trouble? Does Finn seem like the kind of guy who steals pop stars for ransom?”
“No,” she said with a smirk. “Actually, if I had to guess, I would say you’d kidnapped him.”
“Shayna, you’re a smart woman,” I said, patting her shoulder. And she laughed.
“Why did you help us?” Her laughter faded, and her eyes were suddenly bright, like she wanted to cry.
“Because you needed help.” I shrugged. “And my sister had leukemia too.” Damn it all. I felt emotion rise in my eyes too.
“Finn?” Katy ran out of the bathroom and shot past us in the hallway, in search of Finn, and I followed her gratefully, not wanting to continue the sensitive conversation with her mother.
“Finn?” Katy shouted again, and ran to the front door. Finn sat on the front stoop. I’d guessed wrong. He hadn’t even come inside, though Shayna had left the door propped wide open, welcoming him.
“Finn! Bonnie and I are sleeping on the fold-out bed. We’re having a sleepover. You’re sleeping in my bed.”
And that was that. We were staying. You didn’t say no to a kid like Katy. Finn just closed his eyes briefly and avoided my gaze, but he seemed resigned to the fact that it made as much sense as anything else, and when Shayna thanked him profusely and produced a pair of army boots that were almost new, claiming they were too big for her husband, he accepted them with quiet dignity. I too had noticed his boots were worn out and his feet kept getting wet, and I had made my own plans to replace them when I could. Maybe it was better this way. Finn didn’t seem to like it when I paid for him.
Shayna started dinner—spaghetti—and Finn left for a while, claiming he needed to get some exercise. I resisted the urge to tag along as much as I longed to stretch my legs and match my stride to his. I was pathetic and needy, and we both knew it, and I didn’t like that I felt that way where he was concerned. Plus, I really thought Finn might explode if I asked to go with him. He threw on a pair of basketball shorts, a T-shirt, and some worn running shoes and was out the door, his hair pulled off his face, his expression stony.
He was gone for an hour, but when he finally came through the door, dripping with sweat, he looked a little less explosive than he had before. Still, even sweaty and ornery, he was impressive to look at. Shayna tried not to stare as she informed him of the clean towels in the bathroom and invited him to help himself to the shower. It had been a while since there had been a man in the house, obviously, and Shayna looked at me apologetically, as if she were having lascivious thoughts and felt guilty about them. She bit her lip and turned away, and I felt bad for her once again. Shayna Harris was juggling a lot of crap. And shit is incredibly difficult to juggle. No matter how hard you try, it still falls apart and slips through your fingers, and even when you’re managing to keep it aloft, it still stinks.
After dinner, with Finn’s permission, I lightly sanded his old guitar, and Katy and I drew little flowers all over it, intertwining the blossoms with curling long green vines. We painted the blossoms in different shades of pink, using some of the little tole paints on Katy’s dresser. When we were done, Katy and I both signed our names on the back, and Shayna applied a clear overcoat to seal our efforts. I could tell she was one of those crafty ladies that was good at making tin cans and weeds look pretty.
Finn told Katy she could keep it, that it would be a collector’s item someday. I don’t think Katy knew what he meant, but I hoped Shayna did, and told her if she needed the money she shouldn’t be afraid to sell it. I would send Katy a new one to replace it. I also left three thousand dollars in her cookie jar. I was frustrated that I couldn’t leave more because I had so much more. I just couldn’t access more at the moment, and I needed to make sure I still had some cash to get myself and Finn to Vegas.
I didn’t know why I needed to get to Vegas so badly. There was nothing there for me. But I was focused on it like it was the ribbon strung across a finish line, as if the journey itself held the answers to my questions. And I believed if I could just have until Vegas—just a few days is all—I would figure out how to live again.