Finley Embraces Heart and Home by Anyta Sunday
Risk! Risk anything! Care no more for the opinions of others, for those voices. Do the hardest thing on earth for you. Act for yourself. Face the truth.
K. Mansfield, Journal
We head to the hospital. It doesn’t pass me by that Ethan has left his cap behind. It’s the one thing I can focus on, to make waiting easier.
Still, we pace. We hug Mum. We straighten every time a nurse appears. We shrink back into plastic seats when they pass.
“Ethan.”
Mum and I look over at Cress coming through the wide door with flowers. She hands them to Mum and pulls Ethan into a hug. “God, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
Ethan hands her money from his wallet and sends her to get coffee for us.
When she returns, we sip and burn our lips and keep sipping.
The doctor comes out and talks to Mum. It’s touch-and-go. He’ll need surgery.
She’s crying and I’m there and Ethan is there and we’re all holding on tight.
In half an hour we can see him.
The minutes are painful. Neverending.
Cress hooks Ethan’s arm and walks around the sombre waiting area. “It’ll end up okay. It will, you’ll see.”
When Ethan leaves her to go to the bathroom, she finds me in the back row of chairs, near the corridor. We both watch Ethan’s figure disappear around a corner.
She perches on my other side and, reluctantly, I turn towards her.
She grimaces as she meets my eye and speaks low. “I’m sorry about Ford. He says you saw him in a compromising position.”
I’m not sure I care to talk about that right now. I shrug.
“He really does care for you. He was just upset. He thought he never had a chance. He made a mistake.”
It’d been a week since he’d left me in Wellington. I imagine it was a ‘mistake’ he made several times. “She’s engaged, Cress. He knew that.”
“I’m sure she was just getting one last fling in before she ties the knot.”
I gape. “Did Rush know about this arrangement?”
She’s quiet a minute. Not long enough. “I’m sure you and Ford can figure it out.”
“Ford is not my most pressing concern right now.”
She nods sympathetically. “It will work out.”
“He might die, Cress.”
She sighs. “That would be really sad. I hope it doesn’t happen. But if it does . . . You and Ethan are strong. You’ll be excellent brothers for Julia, and no doubt you’ll inherit something and that will support your futures. Ethan could really be a teacher then, and you can write. You’ll be free to live your dreams.”
Free to be with Ethan.
Nausea sluices up my throat. “He’s our dad, Cress. ‘It will work out’ can only mean he survives.”
“I’m just saying—”
“Don’t.” The uttered word comes from behind me.
We swivel toward Ethan, whose eyes glitter with pain. “Thank you for coming, Cress. I think you should leave now. This is family time.”
She flushes and stands. “Of course. Do you have a key to our flat? Ford and I can move my stuff in while you’re here.”
Ethan shakes his head. “I don’t think we should move in together, Cress.”
She startles, frowns. “What, because I was trying to highlight the silver-lining in all of this?”
Ethan’s jaw is hard. “That’s one of the reasons. The smallest.”
She looks offended, hurt. She keeps blinking.
“What does that mean?”
Ethan closes his eyes, anguished. He’s barely slept, his dad is fighting for his life a corridor away and we can’t be in there with him.
“We only get one life, and it’s too short not to spend it with the person you’re in love with.” His eyes open and the flutter in my belly spreads to every part of me, my toes, fingers, the hip that’s exposed to air, my nape, my armpits, the tips of my hair.
Not even Mum, turning sharply toward us, can stop it.
Ethan notices her too. His voice wavers, but he forges on. “I want Fin to move in with me. I’ve always wanted it to be Fin moving in with me.”
Cress is momentarily speechless. “Ford said . . . I thought he was joking. You’re brothers.”
“Stepbrothers,” we say at the same time. But I’m not sure I’d care about the difference.
I stand up, looking Ethan in the eye. It feels like we’re rushing over the edge and into the chasm again. Only this time, the waterfall will be permanent.
I cup the back of his warm neck, fan my thumb over the tear leaking from the corner of his eye, and kiss him. He shakes. I shake.
Neither of us lets go. “E kore te aroha e mimiti mōu.” My love for you is never-ending.
Cress makes a sound of disgust and pushes past us. We don’t watch her leave. We press our foreheads together.
We stiffen as Mum approaches and he clutches me more tightly. “I love you,” I whisper again.
I turn, stepping in front of Ethan, letting Mum know. She will have to hurt me to hurt him.
She shakes her head. “You think I don’t already know? You are my son, he is my son. I know every shade of both of you. I know you’ve loved one another since the moment we arrived at Mansfield. I expected this. I expected this to come a long time ago.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“This is your own journey, it’s not my place to steer you. My place is to embrace the direction you steer yourself.”
“Does Tom . . .”
“He has his suspicions too, of course.”
My throat is tight. “He’ll hate it. He’ll—”
We’re called. We can see him now.
Everything becomes secondary to that.
A nurse ushers us down the hall outside his room. “He’s very tired, he may drift in and out of sleep.”
We enter the room. Tom lies on the hospital bed, pale, exhausted. His smile is weak.
Ethan starts to cry. This time he can’t hold back the sound and I hug him through it and lead him to the chair next to Tom.
Mum kisses his brow from the other side and whispers to him.
Tom searches for Ethan’s hand and Ethan clasps him. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, son. And you, Finley.”
My voice rattles. “Fin. It’s Fin. He whanaunga koe.”
You’re family.
He smiles, like this little concession means the world to him. “I love you, Fin.”
I followEthan up the stairs and lean back against the parapet as he paces. As he tells himself Tom’s surgery tomorrow is a common one. That he’ll be fine. He has to be. “But there are risks.”
His face crumples and I reach for him. I pull him against me and he folds easily, no ounce of hesitation. He trembles though. He’s scared. So am I.
“Once upon a time there was a boy who never wanted to leave home, but whose mother was remarrying . . .”
His uneven breath is hot at my neck and makes me shiver. As my story—our story—progresses, he calms.
When I get to our happy ending, he buries his cold nose against my warmed skin. “Our story is magic. I hope you write it one day.”
My heart thumps and I cup his head, raising it off me so I can look at him.
His expression is tight with worry, but his hands grip my waist like he needs connection, closeness. “Kiss me, Fin?”
Shivers take over as I lean in and kiss the corner of his lips. His gasp slots our mouths together and we feel the beat of our heart at every point we touch. He tastes like salty tears and coffee, and he whispers between each press of our lips. Please. More. Please.
I look him in the eye. He’s begging me to take care of him and I need to, just as much. We leave the stars behind us and head into my room. We kiss and stumble as we help each other out of our clothes, in the end laughing and giving up to take care of our own.
We hiss at the slide of cool sheets over our naked bodies and cuddle close for warmth. He strokes my back and arse and upper thigh. We grow hard, rut against one another.
Our kisses grow deeper, wetter and I roll onto my back, urging Ethan with me. I hiss at the cold sheet hitting my skin, but it’s quickly forgotten as Ethan’s solid, heavy weight blankets me.
“I want . . .” he says.
“I want that too.”
There area hundred kisses and lots of lube and careful exploration.
There is soft laughter and tingling skin.
There are panting pleas.
He kisses me hard as he pushes into me. We both groan at the sensation and I clasp his butt, urging him on. He sinks deep and I gasp at how full I feel. It’s unlike any other time I’ve done this. It’s every word shared between us. Every look we’ve traded in secret. Every smile we’ve ever had.
I clench around him and squeeze his arms tight. I want to feel this, be this close, every night for the rest of our lives.
He moans and rocks back and forth. “Fin.”
I whisper for him to let go. He won’t hurt me.
He groans and his hips snap; pleasure ripples through me. More.
He gives me more.
The world spins, and when it stops, when we come hard, panting in each other’s ears, everything settles perfectly into place. We are here for each other. He is my family. He is my home.