I'll Be Stronger Tomorrow
Chapter One

By Dulcie Taylor
Copyright © 2011

“Hey, Molly! When did you get here?” My head shot up at the masculine voice of my neighbour. He walked towards me in his signature relaxed way, making my heart beat a little faster. Finn’s blondish waves fluttered in the breeze and I breathed in his scent, ignoring the burn in my chest. He was a carpenter and the fragrance of his workshop mingled with an earthy, deep-woods aroma that clung to his skin.

“Just now,” I answered, reaching into my trunk for a bag and avoiding his embrace. I eyed all of the luggage and sighed. I would be here for quite a while and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Was I ready to face the place where my father and I had shared so many memories? Was I even ready to face Finn? I swallowed hard and glanced at the red loft cottage. A little work was needed to get her up to standard but she was still beautiful. My memory hadn’t done her justice. I had truly missed this place.

“How are you holding up?” Finn asked, putting his hand on the small of my back. It felt strange and familiar all at the same time. We’d grown up together during the summers on this lake. We had been the only two kids for miles around. He was three and a half years older but those years were nothing when the only other options for playmates were old man Riley and his vicious dogs, or the fish in the lake.

I looked at Finn’s face and saw the expression that I was so used to now: sympathy. Normally, it was mixed with fear in all the well-wishers who were terrified that I was going to have a meltdown and they would be helpless. To be fair, I’d had something of a meltdown when my mom had died, so these friends and family had seen a precedent, but I was only seven then. They’d said things like, “Mommy wouldn’t want to see you carrying on and crying like this,” or “It’s just the two of you now, and your Dad needs you to be strong, because this is even harder for him.” Their words had dammed my emotions, plugging them deep inside me. I had refused to shed another tear. I had been strong for my dad.

I shivered away the memory of their words, now. Although I was twenty-six, they had never left me for long.

Finn’s look held a mixture of his own grief. He’d loved my father, too.

“Thanks, Finn.” I turned and touched his arm, ignoring the tingle I felt when our skin met. “And I really appreciated the flowers you sent. You didn’t have to drive all that way, either, but I know he would’ve been happy you did.” It was my usual type of response, but it felt wrong with Finn. I had never hidden behind niceties and fake, automated responses with him before. I looked out over the lake. It was almost flat. How many times had Dad and I sat on the veranda on a summer evening like this one, watching the sun set and listening to the loons and crickets? Hurt welled up in my chest, making each breath an even bigger effort. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a pain-free breath. Would I ever get used to it?

“Let me help you with this stuff.” Finn grabbed a few bags and carried them toward the house. I watched his muscles bunch. He’d filled out even more over the last few years. I picked up a suitcase and followed.

“How was traffic?” he asked casually as he set down his load and took my keys from my hand. “I heard they were doing construction on Highway 6. The Jamison’s.” He paused, looking thoughtfully at me for a few seconds. “They bought old man Riley’s place.” I nodded and his mouth tightened ever so slightly before he continued. “They said they were stuck for over an hour the other day.” He didn’t leave my bags after he opened the door, but carried them right to my old room and set them on the bed. He hesitated for a moment, staring at the flowered quilt, probably remembering the Saturday afternoon that we’d lost our innocence on it. Two awkward teens, madly in love, left alone for a few precious hours. The emotion of that day flickered for a moment and I felt heat rise to my cheeks.

“Yeah, I had the same problem,” I mumbled before turning back toward the door. I hated this weirdness between us. “How’s your Dad?”

“You know.” He shot me a crooked grin as he caught up. “Still bitching about not being allowed up here anymore.”

I smiled back as we walked to the car. His dad was practically famous for his long tyrants about everything and anything.

“Your mom stopping him, or the doctor?” He’d had a stroke a year ago and had been having trouble getting around. He’d even had to retire from his position as an elementary school principal. I had only met Finn’s mom a few times, but I knew enough about her from Finn to know that she meant business when she said no. Finn and his dad had spent every summer here and she’d let them without complaint. She had seemed to know that they’d needed the time away from the city as much as she’d probably known there was no way she could handle two months in the back woods, a two hour drive from the nearest town.

“Both.” He got two more bags from the trunk. “It’s just me up here, now.”

I grabbed the huge hiking pack and put it on my back so I could carry the cooler, too. I had brought enough food for a month. I didn’t want to have to go to town for a while. I wanted to process and digest my loss in peace, for once.

Finn nudged my shoulder gently. “I’m glad you’re here, though. It’s been too long.”

It had been four years since I’d gotten Finn’s call from the hospital and had returned to take my dad back to the city to die. It was a long battle with a slow-growing cancer that had turned my strong, confident father into a frail shell, and me into a lost soul. His pension from the university, the life insurance, and the sale of our large Toronto house had left me with more than enough money to live in the cabin for the rest of my life, but was that what I would do? Was this what I wanted, a life without purpose? I’d run from this life once already.

Finn left me to get settled in, but made me promise to come get him if I needed anything. He said he’d come by some morning soon for coffee, though, which I was glad about. I had always liked the peace of solitude but his quiet company was always welcome. We could be together in comfortable silence for hours. I unpacked the food.

What I’d done was horrible – unforgivable – and yet Finn wasn’t even angry with me. I knew he wasn’t hiding it, either. I knew him well enough to know when he was mad; it was in his every movement, word, and look. An angry Finn was animated and loud, the exact opposite of his norm. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t upset but I was glad I didn’t have to deal with it just yet. I shoved a can of corn deeper into the pantry and chewed my lip. I would bring it up when I was ready, and deal with whatever came with it. If anything, I was braver now. When you’ve had your worst fear come to life, nothing can scare you ever again.

When I finished unpacking, I felt the familiar agitation growing inside me. I took one of the Ativan tablets that my doctor had prescribed and curled up on my bed. Sleep would come soon, I told myself, and chanted, “I’ll be stronger tomorrow.” I rocked gently.

That was how my days continued for a week. I never set foot outside. As much as the inside held my father’s memory, the outside was where our true home was. The porch where we ate all our meals; the beach where we walked, collected, and swam; the forest where we explored and learned. I numbly cleaned and organized the cottage, then fell into a drug-induced sleep each night.
 

I was groggy when I woke to the smell of coffee and bacon, the momentary fog allowing a pain-free moment. My stomach rolled as my memory cleared. I forced my eyes open. I was still wearing my grey track suit from the night before, my mouth tacky and my eyes gritty. The absence of traffic was a relief and yet still reinforcing the void inside me. Sometimes in the mornings, the hole was so large and suffocating, I was sure that would be the day I’d be swallowed by it.

“Since when do you sleep past eight?” Finn’s head popped around the doorway to my room. “Breakfast is ready.” He eyed me. “By the looks of you, I didn’t make enough, though.” He pointed at my sunken abdomen. “I’ve never seen a hip bone jutting out that far before.” He scrunched his nose. I wanted to tell him to piss off, but I stopped myself. That was not the person he knew. That was the person I had become, away from my dad and him. It was normal for my friends and I to banter back and forth using unsavoury language, among other things. When I had returned to care for my dad, I’d learned very quickly that my new personality was not welcome. No matter how weak or frail he was, he had no trouble putting me in my place. I groaned. I would curb my language for now but I wasn’t willing to change totally. Finn would have to learn to accept me for who I was or turn into the kind of neighbour that just waved every now and then.

“I don’t remember letting you in, Finn. Why don’t you go back to the porch and knock? At that point, I’ll decide whether or not to pretend I’m not here.”

Finn flinched momentarily, then laughed. “Feisty! I like it. It suits you.” He turned out of my room. “I’m not leaving, though, and if you’re not at the table in five minutes, I’m coming back to throw you in the lake.”

I bit my tongue. He had perfected his tone. He’d spent too much time learning my father’s tactics. All those years I was gone, how close had they become? My father had told me he thought of Finn as a son. I had figured it was a small poke at the fact that I’d run from Finn’s marriage proposal. I could still hear my father’s voice: “Like it or not, young lady, he’s my son-in-law!” He would have strong-armed me down the aisle had I not run. Dad was like that – he did what he thought was right at all cost, and stuck to his guns.

I got up, but I took extra time brushing my hair and teeth just to show Finn that he wasn’t the boss of me. That was as far as I was willing to push him at this point. I really didn’t want to take a swim in the lake, and not for a moment did I doubt that was where I’d end up if I didn’t comply.

“Sit.” Finn pointed at my chair with his fork. “You’ve been sleeping too much and I haven’t seen you outside since you got here.”

I pulled my chair out – dragging it noisily across the floor – and sat down, staring at the bacon, eggs and toast on the plate. My stomach gurgled but I wasn’t sure if it was in protest or hunger. When had I eaten last?

“Eat up, Kid. I want that plate clean. Your father wouldn’t want to see you moping around and starving yourself.” He shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth, giving me a no-nonsense glare. His eyes seemed to penetrate beyond the physical me. I felt that tugging tickle I remembered getting when his deep green eyes read me. An internal clench that I hadn’t felt in years made my heart gallop.

“Kid? You ever gonna stop calling me that?” I asked, poking my toast. He shook his head and I smirked because it was us again. The speed in which we fell back to that was comforting. He’d called me “kid” from the first day we’d met. At the time, it was because he wanted me to know that he considered himself much older and more mature. I was supposed to be in awe of him, I think. He expected my respect, but in return, he was responsible for me one hundred percent. If I got hurt or did something stupid when I was with him, he always took the blame, even when it was clearly my fault, and on more than one occasion that got him into a heap of trouble. Even when I explained to my dad that it was my fault and begged him to intervene, he refused. He trusted Finn. If Finn felt responsible then my father interfering would only undermine Finn’s sense of responsibility towards me.

Not that I didn’t get into my share of trouble; my father was as strict and as old-fashioned as Finn’s, but my punishments had nothing to do with Finn. Finn taking care of me the way he did also meant he had no trouble lecturing me, threatening me, and even occasionally doling out his own punishments. He’d keep me from tagging along on an adventure I was looking forward to, or make me do some of his easier chores for a few days.

It was that suffocating responsibility he lorded over me that had made me run. That and the fact that I had walked in on him and my father discussing wedding and marriage advice before he’d even asked me to marry him. When I had flipped out, he’d proven that his own ideals were just as old-fashioned as dear old dad’s.

I shoved that memory away and started to slowly nibble at the food on my plate. I had enough to deal with. I didn’t need to torment myself with my past... mistakes? Was that what it was? Was running from someone who was so in love with me that he was willing to take care of me for the rest of his life (whether I liked it or not) a mistake? I had loved Finn, but the thought of him making decisions for me the rest of my life was terrifying. That was what his proposal would have meant. My father had confirmed it.
 

“I have to finish a project this morning but this afternoon, I’ll help you tackle that back porch. It needs to be sanded and repainted.” Finn leaned back in his chair and took a drink of coffee.

I frowned. He was the most attractive man I had ever known. The guys I’d dated after him hadn’t been even close. Not one had made my blood pound like Finn had. Lines worried around his mouth and eyes and I realized he was awaiting a response.

“And who says I want to repaint it?”

He raised his brows and pressed his lips together.

“Okay,” I corrected, rolling my eyes, “who says I want to paint it today?”

“Suit yourself, but my offer only stands for today.” He grinned as I grumbled that I’d be waiting.

I decided I would go for a walk while he was working. Finn was right about my dad not wanting me to be moping around. I loved the smell of moist earth, and in the morning dew, it was potent. It also happened to be the best time for deer sightings. Spotting a deer was still majestic even if I’d seen it more times than I could count. I followed a familiar, slightly beaten-down path that led to a cliff overlooking the lake. My chest felt tighter with each step. By the time I got to the edge, it was wet-cement-heavy, and each breath was an intense effort. How many sunrises had we watched in silent awe? How many nights had we enjoyed the full moon in all its glory? How many stories had my father whispered in my ear under the red, setting sun? Now I was alone, just me, Molly Juniper Harris. I sat cross-legged on the grassy outcropping. As I stared into the blue, memories played in my head, each one leading to the next like a reel played at the climax of a journey.

“You okay?” Finn asked, startling me. I looked up, shaking off the daze I was in. He was shirtless and sweaty, walking toward me. His white tee was tucked into the back pocket of his loose jeans. I noted, with a quickening heart, the definition of his iliac muscles.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows on the ground. Had I been here all day? Panic rose and I scrambled to my feet, apologies tumbling from my lips. It was another automatic response from our previous relationship. His stride widened and he embraced me, tucking my face against his warm chest. The manly smell of his skin made me want to curl into him as deeply as physically possible.

“It’s all right, baby. I know it wasn’t intentional.” He pulled me back and pushed the hair out of my face with his thumbs. Hooking his arm around my hip, he supported me as we walked back to the cabin.

I remembered nothing of the walk. My head was still stuck replaying memories but this time, they were memories of Finn. The angry words I’d yelled at him as he had dragged me away from my father now echoed in my ears. The look of my father’s pride as Finn had provided the final proof that he would take care of me – I shivered as the next part of the memory played out. Finn pulled me a little closer.
 

“Let me go, Finn!” I struggled against his grasp. “I don’t give a crap if you’d planned on asking me tonight! It’s not the stone ages! You should have asked me first!” We stopped in between Finn’s cabin and the tool shed, away from my father’s eyes and ears. Thank goodness his dad wouldn’t be arriving for another few days, so it was at least a bit private.

“Molly!” He shook me a little. “Your father appreciated the gesture.” He pulled my chin to make me look at him. “You’ve been on this rebellious kick lately and I don’t know why, but last year, you’d have been spitting mad had I not included your dad! Frankly, I’m sick of your new attitude!”

“I don’t care!” I yanked free of him and turned away. He was right but I really didn’t want to tell him exactly why the whole scenario had bothered me. First, it was the way my father had told me that I couldn’t go to school and live in a dorm like everyone else. He’d said he wanted me to stay where he could keep tabs on me. I was tired of being the hillbilly girl, living in the bush with her dad. I was livid enough with him not trusting me to be responsible, but then I heard him tell Finn that he’d drag me down the aisle if I refused, and for Finn not to be afraid to put me over his knee when I needed it! What kind of hillbilly crazy talk was that! I was eighteen, legally an adult!

“You do care and if you don’t, I’ll make you care!” he barked. I stiffened. I knew his warning tone. Lately, I’d heard it too often. I pushed both him and my father regularly now. I was irate and feeling imprisoned by the two dominant men. Once I became Finn’s wife, I’d officially be an inmate for life! As much as I loved him and my father, I wasn’t sure it was a life I wanted, and I certainly didn’t like the decision being made for me. Anger flared again.

“No! Take your aggressive, hillbilly crap and shove it in a hole!” I grimaced at the fact that I couldn’t even force a curse into my bold statement. Well, wasn’t I a well-trained girl? Scaredy cat, I chided myself, crossing my arms. “You... you ass!” I added with a stomp of my foot. There, I’d done it!

A self-satisfied smile froze on my lips as his brows slammed down to hover threateningly over his heated, hard glare.

“Molly,” he growled.

“Oh, boy! What are you going to threaten me with this time?” I felt fevered with rage again, but I also felt a change in our relationship. I suddenly had the upper hand, for once. I slapped my hands on my thighs and stormed away. “I’m done being ruled by you two! Damn you both!”

I heard him take a few breaths and then his feet stomping after me. “Molly! You’ve pushed me too far, Kid!”

I started to snort laughter at him when I was yanked off my feet and scooped up into his arms. He began to carry me toward the woods.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, struggling in his arms. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere your father won’t hear your screams, Kid!”

I stilled at that. “The lake’s the other way, Finn,” I stated as calmly as I could. It was one of the ways he liked to remind me he was in charge. Dump me in the cold lake and I come up sputtering, no longer angry, and seemingly relieved of my stubborn inability to see his point of view.

“You’ve gone way beyond that! A dip in the lake won’t cure you.”

After a ten minute speed-walk through the dense forest, he was showing signs of fatigue while I was smiling as if I were a queen being carried by my servant.

Finally, he plunked me roughly down on the ground and pointed at me, but said nothing until he caught his breath.

“Molly.”

“Finn, you should sit down. You’re going to have a heart attack.” I moved to sit on a fallen log and patted the spot beside me. “Come on, old man.” I just wasn’t angry anymore. He was too funny in his attempt to keep me in line and I had made my decision – I would be leaving the first chance I got.

“Oh, no, this isn’t over. You can’t just turn all normal and act like I’m being ridiculous.” He was over six feet and getting taller by the second, it seemed. From where I sat, he loomed large as he straightened his spine. “You’ve been behaving like a spoiled brat lately, and I plan on fixing that.”

To Be Continued...

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