Chapters (46)
- Cover
- Other Titles
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Friday
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- Saturday
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- Sunday
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Monday
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Walter, Finn, and Shawn all nod. The four of them sit there, staring at the baseball game, united in their hatred of a woman who is just doing her job. But they are united, for what is probably the first time ever. It would give Finn the warm fuzzies if she wasn’t sure it was all going to come crashing down around them in the next five minutes.
In reality, it takes less than one minute for things to go from fuzzy to potentially homicidal: the amount of time it takes for Hamish to walk through the living room carrying an armful of empties for the recycling bin, and Finn thoughtlessly asking him if he needs any help.
“What the hell?” Nicki says. “Katriina and me are out in the kitchen slaving away over the dishes, but you ask him if he needs help?”
“Katriina and I,” Finn says before she can stop herself.
“Shut the fuck up!” says Nicki. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nicki!” Shawn says, glaring at her. Walter stares straight ahead, suddenly very interested in the batting average of the Jays’ star hitter.
“I’m fine,” says Hamish, adjusting his grip on the bottles. “I just need someone to get the door.”
“I’ll do it,” says Finn, standing.
“He said get the door, not stick your tongue down his throat.”
Nobody moves. Finn can feel a lump form in her throat. “You know what, Nicki,” she says. “That’s not fair.”
“You should have stayed in Mississauga where you belong,” says Nicki.
Blinking back tears, Finn goes over and with a flourish holds the back door open for Hamish. He walks through hesitantly. Then she steps outside after him, slamming the door. “Give me your keys,” she says as he dumps the empties into the bin.
“I only have Nicki’s,” he says.
Of course. “Well, give me those.” He hands them over reluctantly, standing as far away from her as possible, as though she’s going to attack him or something. So she reaches out and grabs his face and plants a wet one on his mouth.
As she gets into Nicki’s car, Finn starts to think: Shit. Maybe that was the wrong way to handle things. But there’s nothing she can do about it now.
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