“He was probably just scared you or Kevin would beat him up,” she suggested.
“I don’t think so, sis. He likes you.”
“Then why does he always pick on me when we’re together?”
“Are you sure that’s what he’s doing? You can be a little sensitive when it comes to certain topics, like your ADD. You get all prickly even when someone makes an offhand comment that isn’t meant to offend you.”
Jess sighed. “You’re right about that. Oh, well, never mind. It doesn’t matter if Will’s not joining us, anyway. What time do you want me to meet you?”
“Seven okay? I don’t want to keep little Mick out too late. He starts getting cranky, and Dillon will kill me if my kid starts wailing in his restaurant.”
“We’ll just get Kate to protect us,” Jess said blithely, referring to Dillon’s wife. “Hand the baby off to her. Her biological clock is ticking, so she’s into babies these days. Dillon’s a little freaked by it.”
“He’s probably more freaked by the thought of what a pregnancy would do to his efficiently run restaurant,” Connor said. “As temperamental as Dillon can be in the kitchen, Kate’s the one who smoothes everyone’s ruffled feathers and keeps the customers happy.”
“You are so right about that,” Jess said with a chuckle. “See you at seven.” She hesitated, then asked, “By the way, was I your second choice for tonight?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why aren’t you with Heather?”
“Not an option,” he said tersely.
Jess gasped. “Don’t tell me she accepted Abby’s invitation to have dinner with that guy!”
Connor wasn’t all that surprised that Jess knew about the plot. “No, she turned her down,” he said. “But she turned me down, too.”
“Sorry, big brother.”
“I don’t know why I was surprised,” he admitted. “It’s not as if she hasn’t made herself perfectly clear. I keep thinking she’ll change her mind, but so far she’s sticking to her guns.”
“Gee, a stubborn woman!” Jess said, feigning astonishment. “Who’d have thought a mule-headed O’Brien could be taken in by one of those?”
“Well, apparently I was,” Connor grumbled. “She’s caught me completely off guard.”
Jess laughed. “Good for her.”
“We’ll discuss your lack of family loyalty when I see you,” he told her, then hung up.
Oddly enough, though the evening wasn’t turning out exactly the way he’d planned, he was still surprisingly content with the prospect of spending it with his sister and his son in a restaurant as good as any of the seafood places in Baltimore. In fact, a relaxing Saturday night in Chesapeake Shores, where he didn’t have to be alert to his public image everywhere he went, especially after the Wilder case, held a certain appeal. He wasn’t quite sure he could handle a steady diet of peace and tranquility, but for now it suited him.
As always on Saturday night, as the summer season approached Brady’s was packed. Heather inched her way past the line of people waiting for tables and slipped into the bar. She found that Connie and Laila had already claimed a booth in a corner.
“This place is a madhouse,” Heather said. “It’s good to see they’re doing well despite the economy.”
“Dillon’s managed to keep his prices reasonable,” Laila said. “He said he’d rather have a packed restaurant than increase his profit margin on every meal. So far, it’s working for him. Locals know he has the best food around, and he’s not trying to gouge them.”
Connie and Laila exchanged a conspiratorial look. It was Connie who spoke.
“Did you happen to catch a glimpse of who else is here tonight?” she asked Heather, leaning across the table and lowering her voice.
“In the restaurant? I couldn’t see past the hostess station.”
“No, in here,” Laila said. “The booth just across from us.”
Heather turned and spotted Connor, Jess and little Mick. “Oh dear,” she murmured.
“It’s not as if they caught you out on a date,” Laila said, even though Connor was scowling as if he had. “Just because you turned down his invitation doesn’t mean you had to sit home all alone tonight. Just tell him we’d made these plans earlier, if he asks.”
“Not that I owe him an explanation,” Heather said. “But it’s awkward. Have they been here long?”
Connie shook her head. “They came in when we did. I thought about asking them to join us, but that needs to be your call. We got a big booth, just in case.”
Heather debated with herself, then looked at Laila and Connie. “It would be the civilized thing to do, wouldn’t it? I mean, it’s not as if I hate Connor’s guts or anything, and that is my son over there.”
Laila’s lips quirked. “Feeling territorial all of a sudden?”
“Only about my child,” Heather said.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I say invite them over,” Connie said. “Why create some issue over it? We’re all here. We’re all more or less family. There’s no need to stir up some feud like the one between Mick and his brothers that lasts forever.”
“I agree,” Laila said, then studied Heather. “Unless you’ll be uncomfortable.”
Heather sighed. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it. I’ll go invite them myself.”
She crossed the restaurant and focused her attention on Jess. “You look great,” she said. “How’s business at the inn?”
“Hopping since the season’s starting,” Jess said, though there was amusement in her eyes over the small talk and over Heather deliberately ignoring Connor.
Finally Heather forced herself to look at him. “We were wondering if you all would like to join us. There’s room at our booth and, as packed as this place is, I’m sure they’d appreciate it if they could free up a table.”
He regarded her with surprise. “You sure?”
“Of course.”
He glanced at Jess, who was openly smiling now. “Is it okay with you?”
“As if I’d dare to say no,” she murmured, already picking up her purse and drink and heading across the room.
Heather plucked little Mick from the high chair, and Connor followed with the chair. When they settled into the booth, she found herself squeezed between Jess and Connor. She frowned at Laila, who’d slipped in next to Connie in order to accomplish that. Laila merely gave her an innocent look and lifted her beer in the air in a silent toast.
“To happy families,” she said, drawing a scowl from Heather and a sharp look from Connor.
Beside Heather, Jess chuckled, then enthusiastically tapped glasses with the traitor across the table.
Heather sighed. If dinner at Abby’s with a strange man would have been awkward, this promised to top it.
11
Though Connor had been pleased by Saturday night’s turn of events, he regretted that he’d been with Heather by happenstance rather than her choice. He supposed he should be grateful that she hadn’t chosen to ignore his presence or bolted from the restaurant when she’d first seen him there with Jess. Still, he was vaguely disgruntled when he stopped to drop off little Mick on Sunday and all too ready to pick a fight.
As soon as his son was happily settled in his playpen, he turned to Heather. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were going out with Laila and Connie yesterday when I asked you to come to dinner?”
“Because we hadn’t made our plans at that point,” she said with exaggerated patience. “Don’t you see, Connor? It doesn’t matter whether I have other plans. I can’t accept dates with you. I don’t want to lead you to believe that we’re going to get back together.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “This isn’t some misguided attempt to protect me, Heather. You’re scared if we spend time together, you’ll cave in.”
She actually smiled at that. “No question about it,” she said readily. “Right now, though, my willpower and convictions are strong. That doesn’t mean I want to put myself into temptatio
n’s path.”
“Me being temptation?” he said, oddly pleased by that. It was pitiful that he was grateful for even such a tiny bone being tossed his way.
“Yes, Connor, you being temptation.”
“Good to know. I’ll have to figure out how to capitalize on that.”
“Maybe you should spend more time trying to figure out why you’re really so determined not to do the one thing that might really get me back,” she suggested.
“Reevaluating my views on marriage,” he said.
“Of course.” She gave him a wide-eyed look meant to indicate, he supposed, that she’d just been struck by something. “What about counseling? Let an objective outsider work through your issues with you. I’d suggest Will, since you’re already comfortable with him, but that might not be the best thing. He might let you off the hook too easily.”
He regarded her with annoyance. “I’m not the one with a cockeyed view of the world. Evidence backs me up. You’re the one wearing rose-colored glasses.”
“I’m hardly the Lone Ranger when it comes to believing in love,” she said. “Thousands of people take that leap into marriage every single day.”
“And get divorced a year later,” he retorted. “Lucky for me.”
She simply stared at him, clearly not amused. “Do you hear yourself?” she asked in dismay. “Is it any wonder I don’t want to be with someone who’s that negative and cynical? How do you stand yourself? In fact, how do you stand living in a world that’s so dark and gloomy? I suppose I can’t drag you out of all that dreariness, but I surely don’t want to live there with you. And I will not have my son raised with those beliefs.”
Connor felt as if a cold fist were squeezing the life out of him. “You’re not about to ask for sole custody of little Mick, are you?”
“Of course not. I figure I can counteract whatever message he hears from you.”
“But that’s it for you and me?” he pressed. “You’ve fallen out of love with me because I don’t share your idyllic view of love and marriage?”
“Sadly, no,” she said quietly. “I will love you forever. You have so many wonderful qualities that I admire. You’re a great father. You’re funny and smart. You’re thoughtful and considerate.”
He made another attempt at humor. “Then I’m astonished you haven’t snapped me up.”
“Oh, Connor, how can I? I can’t accept a relationship that’s less than everything it could be. I don’t want that for myself. I don’t want it for little Mick. And, believe it or not, I don’t want it for you, either.” She pulled her gaze away. “You should probably leave now.”
Connor started to argue, but in the end, what was left to say? That he thought what they had was worth fighting for? It was. That he loved her? He did. She knew all of that.
And it still wasn’t enough.
Thomas had a pounding headache, the same one he usually got when he went over research that showed pollution levels in the Chesapeake Bay weren’t improving as quickly as they should be. The problem, he believed, didn’t lie with lax laws. It was with erratic enforcement by all of the states with tributaries that fed into the bay.
He’d pushed aside the report and was about to ring for Kevin to join him to hammer out a new battle plan, when someone tapped on his office door and stepped inside.
“Connie!” he said, his mood brightening at the unexpected sight of her, the way it did when the sun unexpectedly peeked out from behind a cloud an a dreary gray day. “Was I expecting you today?”
She laughed. “Now that’s a question I can’t answer, can I? I did speak to your receptionist a few days ago, and she put me on your calendar.”
He winced. “I suppose I should pay more attention to that, but distraction’s a bad habit of mine.”
“Is this a good time?” she asked.
“If you’ll go with me for a cup of coffee and some conversation, it’s an excellent time,” he said. He gestured to the research papers on his desk. “I’ve just spent the morning trying to absorb more depressing news.”
“Would you share it with me?” she asked eagerly.
He regarded her with amazement. “You actually want to read a bunch of statistics and dire predictions?”
“The whole point of me coming up here is to get up to speed on the latest research,” she said. “It seems as if my timing is perfect.”
Thrilled by the idea of a captive audience, Thomas grabbed the papers, then showed her out of his office. They walked to a small waterfront café mostly frequented by those who worked along the nearby Severn River. It didn’t have much atmosphere, but the tables were clean and the coffee was strong and plentiful.
“I am so excited about this,” Connie said, sitting across from him. “I spoke to Shanna yesterday, and she’s ecstatic that we’re going to be doing these speaking events. She and I even roughed out a timetable for you. We weren’t sure how many you wanted to schedule, so we just listed all the bay-front towns that might be receptive to such an event. We can schedule as many or as few as you’d like.”
Thomas chuckled at her enthusiasm. “I knew I’d chosen the right people to do this. You’ll have me working every Friday night and Saturday if I’m not careful.”
“The way I hear it, you work all the time, anyway,” she said, then blushed. “That’s the family view, anyway.”
“It is, indeed,” he said, not denying it.
“Is that what happened to your marriages?” she asked, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I have a habit of talking before my brain engages. It’s just that I know you’ve been married twice, so I wondered if being a workaholic contributed in some way…” Her voice trailed off as she flushed with embarrassment.
Thomas couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the sudden pink in her cheeks. When was the last time he’d met someone who spoke with such an intriguing blend of candor and naiveté?
“I’m actually surprised the family grapevine didn’t supply that bit of information as well,” he said with humor. “It’s true. My wives tired of me being married to my work. It was worse, as you might imagine, when I was actually working on the Chesapeake Shores development with Mick and trying to fight for the bay’s preservation at the same time. If my wife saw me one night out of seven, it was a bonus,” he admitted ruefully. “It took her a year to tire of it.”
“That seems awfully quick to bail on a marriage,” Connie said.
“Not when the handwriting’s already on the wall,” he said.
“And wife number two?”
“Oh, she came in with her eyes wide open, claimed to love the fact that I was so passionate about my work. It turned out that gave her plenty of time for a few little dalliances on the side. We agreed to end it after nine months. I’ll never know if she might have been faithful if I’d been around more. I like to think so.”
“Then I suppose you’re as jaded when it comes to marriage as Connor?” she said, looking saddened by the idea.
“No, indeed. I’m an optimist. Or is it called crazy when a person keeps doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome?”
“I’d call it hopeful,” she said. “Why do you suppose Connor can’t see that?”
“Because he’s not ready to admit he’s been wrong,” Thomas said. “O’Briens hate acknowledging their weaknesses. He’ll come around and marry Heather, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
“It just seems such a shame that he’s throwing away this incredible chance at happiness,” Connie said, then held up her hand. “I didn’t come up here to discuss all these personal O’Brien family dynamics. Tell me what that impressive pile of papers says.”
Thomas nodded. “I’ll try to give you the short version, but my enthusiasm is likely to get the better of me. When you’ve heard enough, just say the word.”
She leaned closer, as if trying to read the papers upside down. “Not going to happen.” She squinted. “What does this say? Something about the oyster population?”
Thoma
s nodded, then turned the pages so she could see them more clearly. There was nothing he liked more than an eager student, especially one as lovely as this one was.
When the thought struck him, it gave him momentary pause. Connie Collins had to be young enough, what, to be his daughter? No, of course not. She had a daughter of her own about to go off to college, which meant she had to be forty or close to it. And he wasn’t that far on the other side of fifty.
Still, she was of the generation of his nieces and nephews. Thinking about her as anything other than a volunteer would be insane. Despite that reminder, when he looked into her bright, curious eyes, they inevitably brought on a smile. And maybe a little bump in a heart rate that had been slow and steady for way too long.
On a Friday morning two weeks after Connor’s visit, Heather was surprised when Megan walked into the shop wearing what had to be an outfit she’d picked up in Paris. She looked more stylish than ever with her frosted blond hair and trim figure.
Heather came out from behind the counter to hug her. “Welcome home! I didn’t think you were due back here till next week.”
“We weren’t,” she said, her expression chagrined.
Heather frowned. “The honeymoon didn’t go well?”
“Oh, the honeymoon was fantastic, thank you very much,” Megan said with a laugh. “The French food was amazing, the wine was superb, the scenery spectacular and the art amazing. Mick was on his very best behavior and at his most charming.”
“If it was all so wonderful, then I’m a little bit surprised you didn’t buy a place and stay there,” Heather teased.
“The truth? I missed my family,” Megan said. “I’ve just gotten them back, and being away right now, especially with everything that’s going on, was killing me. Mick, too, though he wouldn’t admit it. He made a big show of sacrificing the last few days of our trip to cater to my whim to be back here in the thick of things.”
“We would all have been right here with nothing changed if you’d waited to come back,” Heather told her.
“Maybe that’s what worried me most,” Megan admitted. “Some things need to change.”
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