Page 35 of Better Luck Next Time

“Do you know her?”

“No, but Dottie’s mentioned her about a hundred times.” He shot a quick smirk at Finn. “She met her in line at the DMV.”

“Of course she did.”

Silence hung between them for a beat. Then River said, “So what did you think?”

“She wasn’t like I’d expected. I figured since she was one of Dottie’s people she’d be more…”

“Loud? Eccentric?”

“Those two words did come to mind.” He paused, trying to put the experience into words. “But it wasn’t like some vaudeville fortune-telling tent.”

“Oh, you mean like the one I ran?” River asked, huffing a laugh.

At the last Buchanan staff party, River had found himself running the fortune-telling tent for a while as part of a ploy to romance Georgie. It was mentioned at least once a day in Buchanan Brewery, or so Dottie said, and Finn had heard the story multiple times. He always felt a little stab of guilt, knowing he was the only reason River and Georgie had been on the outs. Well, him and Beau, who’d written what had to be the strangest will in the history of Asheville.

“I’m still sorry I missed that,” he said. “But yeah, I guess it surprised me how legit this felt. I mean, it was practically a doctor’s office. Not a scarf or crystal ball in sight. I almost believed her.”

“Who’s to say?” River said with a shrug. “I give Dottie a hard time, but you know she’s right as often as she’s wrong when it comes to the mystical stuff.” He was quiet for a second, as if weighing something. Then he said, “I don’t want to come off all big brotherish, but what are your intentions toward Adalia? I don’t need to be an actual psychic to tell there’s something going on with you two.”

He couldn’t blame River for asking. He’d been Finn’s wingman dozens of times, and vice versa.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I care about her, though. I want to be there for her.”

“Good,” River said, “because she needs a friend like you.”

That statement of trust from River meant the world to him, and he would have said so if River hadn’t pulled into the driveway of Beau’s old house just then.

Jack and Dottie were sitting on the front porch, talking.

“What happened to stalling Georgie?” Finn wondered out loud.

“Guess we’ll find out. The fact that she’s not here means he must have met with some measure of success.” River shook his head slightly. “Looks like my aunt’s gotten to Jack too. I wondered how long it would take.”

“What do you mean?” Finn asked.

“Let’s just say he’s been one of the holdouts when it comes to Aunt Dottie. I was starting to think he was afraid of her.”

“Well, to be fair, I was afraid of her the first time we met.”

Dottie had just been so unlike everyone he knew. So much louder. So muchbrighter. At first he’d suspected being eccentric was some kind of game to her, but then he’d gotten to know her, and it had become clear that she was one of the few people who never tried to dissemble or pretend. Dottie didn’t put any thought into trying to please the people she met. All of her concentration was poured into existing, and into helping the people around her achieve what was so effortless for her.

“I still am afraid of her,” River quipped, popping his door. “Let’s get Sleeping Beauty.”

Finn wanted to carry her again—he ached to—but Jack beat him to it, hopping down the porch and hurrying down the hill toward them. He gathered Adalia up in his arms in a way that made it obvious Finn wasn’t the only new person in her life who cared about her.

“What happened with Georgie?” River asked.

“Turned out I didn’t need to do anything,” Jack said. “The new bottling machine is acting up, and she’s been handling damage control. It was manufactured in Europe, and it’s after hours for all of the call centers. Last I heard, she’d been on hold listening to ‘Greensleeves’ for over an hour.”

“So she’ll come home in a good mood then,” River commented.

Jack huffed a laugh, but then his gaze shot to Finn, standing helplessly at the side of the car. For a moment, Finn worried the camaraderie they’d achieved this morning would slip away. That Jack would go all big brother again and tell him to leave.

“Let’s hope Dottie’s cure works,” Jack said simply. Then he carried her up to the porch, Adalia stirring as he climbed the steps.

“Jacky! My brother!” she crooned, throwing a sloppy arm around his neck. “You’re the one who likes me.”

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