Eight Hundred Grapes

“Your first arrest?”

“Very funny.” He looked up and sighed. “Do you know what I was thinking the whole time? Maybe they won’t be able to get me out of here in time for the wedding. That I would miss Margaret and Bobby getting married.”

“And that made you happy?”

“It made me sad, actually. What do you think that means?”

“That you love your brother.”

He smiled. “. . . And don’t say that you love your brother.”

I paused, trying to think of what to tell him, sitting in this depressing jail cell. Finn needed to figure out how to be somewhere else, both of us needed to be somewhere other than where we’d been.

“I was out of line,” he said. “What I said about Ben. Sometimes it takes people a minute to figure it out.”

I smiled, grateful and relieved to hear him say that.

“But, the thing is, you just used to be so fearless when we were growing up. Fearless and fucking happy. I don’t know. I want you to be happy like that.”

I smiled. “I was happy, wasn’t I? What happened?”

“Adulthood. Ambition. Compromise.”

I laughed. “All things you have managed to avoid.”

He shrugged as a smile crept up. “I hear there is a famous movie star in town. Someone by the name of Michelle Carter?”

“How did you hear that?”

“I’ve been in jail, not . . . in jail.”

I smiled.

“Ethan’s been giving me hourly reports. Michelle spotted at the ice cream shop. Michelle spotted at The Tasting Room. Michelle spotted on Main Street and Fifth Street and at the Sebastopol Inn.” He paused. “What is she doing here?”

“We invited her to the harvest party.”

“Why?”

“I’m making an effort with Ben. And that means making one with Michelle.”

“Can I be the one to make an effort with Michelle?”

“Come on, she’s not that pretty.”

“Yes. She’s that pretty. She’s prettier.” He paused. “Since she’s coming, maybe you can set me up with her,” he said. “With Michelle. That would fix everything in terms of Margaret.”

“You think?”

“No,” he said, but he smiled while he said it.

Then he paused, looked at me seriously.

“I need you to tell me I’m not completely fucked,” he said.

“You’re not even close.”

Finn stood up, motioning around the jail cell. “Let’s be honest. I’m close.”