And he’s right. I do want to do this. I haven’t done anything like this since I was a little kid, and it just feels right. I laugh and run towards the hallway.
“I knew it!” Finn shouts after me.
I’m still laughing when I return from the linen closet with a large sheet and four big fluffy pillows. We drape the sheet over the backs of the couches, forming a tunnel between them. I clamber into the gap and begin to arrange the pillows. I hear Finn moving away and I peer out. He disappears down the hallway, so I crawl back out of the tunnel and start to add more couch cushions.
Finn comes back with a small lamp. He pulls an extension cord out from beneath the TV and stretches it over to the fort. He puts it behind the pillows and switches it on. “Get your wine and go in there.” He grins then disappears again.
I do as he says. I’m nestled amongst the cushions with my glass when he returns.
He turns the light off, leaving only the lamp on and he crawls into the space beside me with a fluffy blanket in his hands which he spreads over us.
“You forgot your drink,” I remind.
“No drinks in the fort,” he cautions. “I made an exception for you.”
“No exceptions necessary.” Knowing I’m already seriously tipsy, I still drain my glass before shuffling to the end of the blankets to reach up and put the glass on the coffee table. I crawl back in and lay back on the cushions.
Finn lays beside me, his hands folded beneath his head. “When was the last time you just forgot about all of your responsibilities and did something like this just for the sheer fun of it?” He asks.
I think for a moment and I shake my head. “I honestly can’t remember.”
“Me neither,” Finn agrees. “That’s pretty fucking sad, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess it is. I just… I don’t know. Somehow it always feels wrong to let go and enjoy myself when I think of all of the work I have piling up.”
“Same here,” Finn replies. “At least, you’re helping people though. I mean I’m depriving myself of a bit of downtime for what? To make money?”
“Don’t be fooled, Finn. I like helping people, but really, this whole thing started because I needed to do something to fill the void inside of myself,” I admit. “It might be helping people, but it’s kind of selfish too.”
Finn shuffles onto his side and rests his head on his palm, propped up on his elbow. He looks down at me. “I don’t think you’re selfish at all. Even if you get something out of what you do, you’re doing so much for so many people, and it can’t be easy.”
I find myself looking back up at him. “You know, for a moment there, that actually sounded like you gave me a compliment,” I tease him.
“Yeah, it’s just the whiskey talking. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.” He flops back down onto his back folding his hands beneath his head again.
“Noted.” I grin. “So before any of this, did you ever see yourself getting married?”
“I didn’t really think about it to be honest. Obviously, I wanted to find the right girl and settle down… one day. But it certainly wasn’t something I was planning on doing any time soon. What about you?”
“I never really saw the point of getting married. I mean if you love someone enough to want to spend forever with them, do you really need a contract to prove it?” I ask.
“You see marriage as a contract? Even outside of this situation?” Finn asks, surprised.
I nod. “Well, yeah. Don’t you? I mean think about it. You make these promises and you sign a contract to say you’re legally bound to another person and you need another piece of legal document to say you are no longer bound.”
“Your lawyer stripes are showing through. You guys sure know how to suck the romance out of anything. I like to think of it as more of a public celebration of your love for each other.”
“Sap,” I mocks with a laugh.
“Cynic,” he shoots back.
“You know, maybe this was your grandfather’s plan all along,” I suggest. “To bring us together and force us to change our views on marriage. You know, I can make you a bit more practical about it, and you can make me a bit more romantic about it.”
“Or maybe he just knew we would never find anyone to put up with our bullshit, unless he made it happen.”
“Actually, yeah, that sounds much more like it,” I agree.
We fall into a comfortable silence and I try to work out what Finn’s grandpa really wanted this marriage to achieve. Did he think we would be a good match simply because he and my grandfather were friends? Which sounds silly. Or maybe he somehow sensed we would never get past our prejudices and see it for ourselves unless we were pushed together? Or did he really think that we were so bad a match that making Finn try to convince me to marry him would be a true test of how far he is willing to go to save the company?