to make things awkward | fillie

18 | "family" time

The air around Millie as she and Lucy looked through the pantry for the ingredients to make her infamous risotto was weighted and, Finn sensed, deliberately controlled. Like Millie was trying not to feel whatever she was feeling. The only problem was that he didn't know what she was feeling, nor why she didn't want to feel it. He stood back, collected the pan she asked for and cleaned the area around the stove. What had she and Noah been talking about before they got back? It was obviously awkward between them, Finn knew them both well enough not to think otherwise, but what caused it?

It was only after they'd cooked and eaten dinner, while Lucy was in the shower getting ready for bed, that he dared to broach the subject. He had followed Millie out onto the patio, the summer night calmed by a subtle breeze that made the small bonfire Millie was perfecting billow and swirl. The fire came from a gas line that ran up through the middle of the table surrounded by chairs. Multicolored glass beads surrounded the fire. He placed a tray of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate on the uninflamed part of the table. Lucy wanted to make smores in pajamas and of course they wanted to please her.

"How was your day with 'ole Schnipper?" He asked tentatively, setting the tray down on the table in between two outdoor arm chairs.

She paused then cleared her throat before answering, "Good. Busy." She layed three metal skewers next to the tray and turned to him, "Want a drink?" Her expression was warm, friendly bordering on flirtatious. But that was so often just her way of speaking when she wasn't upset.

He hummed a second and decided a beer wouldn't be too bad. She returned with an opened bottle and a glass of wine for herself.

"Here," she said, handing it to him, "I heard the shower turn off, so it shouldn't be too long."

"Unless she's like you." He said.

She rolled her eyes and sipped her wine, "So you guys wrote a song?"

He propped his foot on his knee and it began to bounce, "Yeah—well started one anyway."

It was completely spur of the moment. Elsie and Lucy had gotten back from the gelato place completely wired and Lucy suddenly wanted to touch all the instruments. He was stunned when she got to the piano and began to play a pretty spotless rendition of Elenor Rigby. She was good, especially for her age, and after she had concluded, he, Malcolm, and Elsie had all given a standing ovation. He knew she played a little guitar because she told him so, but this was astounding. She bowed and said that she finally understood why music had always come so easy to her when her parents could never hold a tune or maintain a beat longer than a few measures. He felt proud at the insinuation that he was the reason for something going right in her life.

"She plays the piano." He told Millie, "And sings."

Millie's shoulders relaxed, "Really?"

He nodded, "She's good, too."

He saw her lips grow into a proud smile. He was happy to be the cause, but her eyes reflected a sort of melancholy. That, he was not so happy to be the cause of. But maybe he wasn't the cause, more a conduit between her and Lucy and their inadequate bonding. But it had only been a couple days. It would happen. He pushed forward, hoping to distract her.

"After that revelation, I asked her what she thought about helping with a song for the new album and she just about lost her mind. She gets excited like you used to. The facial expression is almost identical, it's scary."

"Aw, that's great." Millie said, ". . .So you feel like you two are bonding okay then?"

Damn. He thought. Could she read his mind? He saw the look of wanting on her face and decided to dampen his answer that would have been much more boisterous were he unfiltered, "I—yeah. I think so." he gave a gentle nod. She turned to the fire and turned the flame down with the dial on the table.