The Foster Girls #2: Finland

Chapter 15: Finland

You're doing the right thing. You're doing the right thing.

I kept chanting this refrain to myself as I drove the English countryside. You can't stay with a man whose heart belongs to someone else, no matter how much you loved him. You just can't. Some women might find it enough to have the man, knowing he would care for them even if his heart wasn't fully engaged. I was not one of those women. It wasn't fair to myself; I couldn't accept the little he was offering. In my mind, I was walking through his house again, looking at all the evidence of his love for another woman.

Even while my mind was occupied, I was still able to take in the fresh English day, the green rolling hills sometimes dotted white with sheep, the stone fences. The beautiful views were soothing me, easing that ever-present pressure in my chest enough to make me feel like I might survive losing Dominic given thirty or forty years to come to grips with it.

I drove for six hours after leaving Elizabeth, which was amazing since I'd been awake for close to 48 hours, with only a brief nap on the plane over here. Adrenaline will do that to you, I guess.

When I began yawning non-stop, I pulled off the road at the first sign I saw advertising a Bed & Breakfast, which, not surprisingly, was next door to a pub.

Freaking loved the British.

The B&B had a quaint, cottagey feel to to it, and beautiful flowers blooming in the window boxes and pots by the door. I walked in and found the inside was as charming as the outside. No one was there to greet me, but I heard a woman's voice yelling, "Wolf! You fuckin' bodged the wallpaper again, you wanker."

Then, surprisingly, I heard an American voice, obviously from the deep south, respond, "Ah, Vic, darlin', you know my other skills make up for my lack in the home improvement department."

I heard her giggle, followed by some definite kissy sounds. With the soft moans that followed, I was afraid I'd soon be hearing things I had no business hearing, so I called out, "Hello?"

Some scuffling noises, a growl and then a gorgeous woman with bright pink hair, who was obviously very pregnant, walked into the room, followed by a beautiful, shirtless, dark-haired man who had an incredibly realistic wolf tattoo over his left pec.

"All right, what can I do for you babe?" she said to me. "Are you looking for a room for tonight?"

"Yes, please."

"You look knackered," she observed in her straightforward way.

"I've been up for the last forty-eight hours," I explained to her.

She peered at me closely, then gave a brief nod. "Would you like something to eat while Wolf gets your room made up? I'll join you for a cuppa. I'm Victoria, by the way." She sent Wolf off to the Daisy room to get sheets on the bed and he trotted off to do her bidding.

"I'm Finland, and that'd be great, please."

"Fancy some sarnies and a cup of rosie lee?"

I knew she was speaking English; I just had no freaking idea what she was saying, but I was so tired I simply nodded and followed her to the kitchen.

She moved about effortlessly, despite her monster-sized belly, putting the electric kettle on to boil and assembling a number of sandwiches. She placed a plate of sandwiches in front of me, then poured two cups of tea.

"Feels good to sit down," she said, kicking off her shoes. Then she rubbed her ginormous belly and said, "And these two! Oof! They're already battling it out."

"When are you due?" I asked.

"About another two months. But who knows if I'll last that long. Twins come early, they say."