Games of the Heart
Page 135

Jesus. Shit. Fuck.
Mike moved to Fin and started to lift a hand to lay it on his shoulder but Fin’s head jerked toward Rivera and Jerra who each had a kid in their laps.
“Get your kids outta here,” he ordered and Rivera’s gaze cut to Mike.
Jerra got up instantly, putting a staring at Fin, open-mouthed Adriana on her feet but taking her hand. Della moved toward Joaquin, Rivera and Jerra’s little boy. They led them out as Mike got close to Fin’s back right side and his eyes went to Dusty who had stood as had No, putting his guitar down and leaning it against the chair. Rivera and Dean also stood. Rees, too, had found her feet and she moved close to Fin.
But Fin only had eyes for Rhonda.
Mike’s gaze cut to Rhonda who was staring at Fin, frozen.
“Fin, honey, take a breath,” Dusty said placatingly.
Fin ignored her.
“That was Bernie McGrath on the phone,” Fin announced.
Mike tensed.
Jesus. Shit. Fuck.
Fin went on, “Wanted me to tell you to be sure you deposit that five thousand dollar check.”
Jesus. Shit. Fuck!
“What’s this?” Dean asked but Fin ignored him too.
“Then I called Aunt Debbie,” he continued. “She’s filled me in, Ma, that you’re on board.”
“On board for what?” Dusty asked, looking back and forth between Fin and Rhonda and at her question Fin’s eyes sliced to her.
“On board as a plaintiff contesting Dad’s will.”
Jesus. Shit. Fuck!
Dusty’s body got visibly tight, her cheeks got visibly red and her eyes fired. Mike could see it from across the room.
But he read the situation that was more volatile was Fin and Rhonda so Mike positioned himself beyond Fin and between Rhonda and her son.
Rees approached Fin and laid a hand on his arm.
Fin ignored her too.
“You haven’t been up in your room feelin’ sorry for yourself,” he stated, his eyes glued to his mother. “You been up there plottin’ with f**kin’ Aunt Debbie.”
“Rhonda, please say this isn’t true.” Dusty’s voice was soft but forced.
Rhonda kept her eyes to her son and she whispered, “It’s for the best.”
At that, Fin’s torso twisted violently, his arm swinging out in a blur across his front and the phone went flying across the room, over the couch to smash against a wall.
The room, already tense, went wired.
“Fin, take a walk,” Mike ordered.
Fin ignored Mike too and looked back at his mother.
“For the best? That…is…whacked!”
Rhonda, surprising everyone, straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “This farm killed your father,” she declared.
“So now you open your mouth and Aunt Debbie speaks?” Fin asked sarcastically.
“Rhonda, sweetheart, did you really do this?” Dean asked, his eyes also glued to his daughter-in-law.
“Yes,” Rhonda kept her seat, the only one in the room who had, outside Kirby. She nodded and repeated, “Yes. It’s for the best. It’s for my boys.”
“It’s for your boys?” Fin spat, leaning forward.
“Fin, man, take a walk,” Mike repeated.
“Yes,” Rhonda spoke over him. “You told me I should be lookin’ out for you. I’m lookin’ out for you.”
“By taking away my future?” Fin asked.
“By giving you one. Debbie tells me the sale of the land will set you up.” Rhonda threw out her hand. “It’ll set all of us up.”
“I’m already set up, Ma. I got everything I want. I got my future and that future, every day, every f**king day I go out and work this farm, I do it with my father,” Fin shot back, his words nearly guttural and not just with anger but with grief burned a hole straight through Mike’s f**king heart. “That’s the future I want and I wanted it even before he died. Now I want it more because it’s the only thing of him I have left.”
Rhonda blanched and Dean stepped in.
“Rhonda, I wish you’d spoken to me about this.”
Rhonda tore her eyes away from her son and looked to her father-in-law. “Debbie warned me not to. She said you’d try to talk me out of it and I knew that was true. And now, that’s been proved.”
“Go with me now,” Fin ordered, cutting in, his voice now hard, his eyes pinned to his mother. “Right now, get in my truck and go with me to the cemetery so you can actually spit on Dad’s grave rather than doin’ it like this.”
“Fin,” Rhonda whispered, eyes round, face shocked and horrified.
“He’d hate you for doin’ this, Ma. All his life he did nothin’ but love you but if he knew you were doin’ this, he’d hate you. He’d hate everything about you. He wouldn’t even wanna look at you,” Fin clipped, Rees got close and Mike tensed.
She put her hand on his chest, tipped her head back, leaned in and whispered, “Fin, let’s go for a walk.”
Fin lifted a hand and Mike tensed more but he just wrapped it around Rees’s and held it at his chest, his eyes never leaving his mother.
“And you know how I know that?” he asked quietly then answered his own question. “Because not five minutes ago, I sat in this room with my family, with friends, listenin’ to Aunt Dusty sing and No play and doin’ it knowin’ Dad would love to have been here for this. Dad would love this f**kin’ house filled with f**kin’ people he cared about, sharin’ time, doin’ nothin’, killin’ time in a sweet way waitin’ to eat. Doin’ nothin’ but doin’ it together which means it isn’t nothin’. It’s everything. And I’m my father’s son, he made me that way and, you takin’ that away from all of us, right now I hate you.”
Fin’s last three words were so rough they were ragged and Mike pulled in breath at the sound of them but Fin was done. He knew this because Fin dropped Rees’s hand but slid an arm around her shoulders, turning them both and walking out of the living room, through the entryway and right out the front door.
Mike turned back to the room, his eyes going to Dusty who had her head bent, her palms pressed to her forehead, fingers in her hair, visibly rubbed raw by the harshness of her nephew’s words but he didn’t look at her long.
This was because Kirby spoke.
“I can’t believe you,” he whispered and Mike saw he was struggling. He didn’t want to lose it but it was clear he was in a fight he wasn’t going to win and he didn’t. A tear escaped and slid down his cheek as he went on, “I can’t believe you’d do this to Fin, to me, to Aunt Dusty, Gramps, Dad. I can’t believe you.”