Under Scottish Stars

by Carla Laureano

  “Can we, Uncle Malcolm?” Kylee asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” he said. “I did promise Em a look through the telescope.”

  The sky was still light, though, which left hours to fill. Kylee helped with the dishes while Malcolm entertained Em and Max, and then they all settled around a board game on the lounge’s coffee table. At one point Serena caught Malcolm watching her with such a transparent look of longing that it caught her off guard. This wasn’t the flash of desire she saw so often from him, the wish he didn’t have to leave her with only a kiss, but something that made her think he was as affected by the happy picture of domesticity as she was.

  And then it was gone, swallowed by laughter until it was time to make the hot chocolate and take blankets into the back garden. Serena let Em tell the constellation stories that she knew, and then Max took his turn making up nonsensical tales that made everyone giggle even when they tried to remain serious. Malcolm retrieved his telescope from next door so they could look at distant stars.

  It didn’t take long for their stargazing companions to dwindle: first Max fell asleep, followed by Em, and soon Kylee began stifling yawns behind her hand. The teenager excused herself with a tight hug for Serena, then cut across their adjacent back gardens. Malcolm helped Serena carry the kids inside to their beds, and then they returned to the blanket spread out on the cool, damp grass.

  Serena stretched out on the blanket and rolled to her side so she could view him in the dim light. He was watching her with a tenderness that made every part of her ache.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked softly.

  “I was just thinking I could get used to nights like this.”

  “Me too. It was perfect. Sad to think we might not have another one.”

  “Why not?” His voice turned guarded.

  “It will be September before the stargazing gets good again.”

  Relief washed over his face. Only then did she realize he’d thought she referred to either their relationship or her plans to leave at the end of the summer.

  Her heartbeat accelerated, but she forced herself to speak. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. You know I originally planned to go back to Inverness in August.”

  “I’m trying not to think about that, but yes.”

  “Do you think Mrs. Docherty would let us stay on if we didn’t go back in the autumn?”

  “Is that something you think you might do?”

  “I’m considering it,” Serena said. “I know not all your memories of Skye are good, but I think I want Max and Em to have the kind of childhood I had here. I didn’t realize how much until we came back.”

  He was moving closer to her on the blanket. “Is that the only reason you’d consider staying?”

  “No.” A teasing smile came to her lips. “I’m also concerned with what might happen to the hotel if I left. You clearly need me.”

  He dipped his head and kissed her cheek, his beard tickling her skin and sending a delicious thrill through her body. “I most certainly do need you.”

  His lips were wandering lower, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, not caring that they were exposed beneath the starlit sky. She didn’t particularly want him to stop what he was doing. “Does that mean you’re okay with me staying around and micromanaging you for the foreseeable future?”

  He looked into her eyes and smiled. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  SERENA REMAINED SO FOCUSED on pulling together the first gallery display before the arrival of her brothers and their wives that she managed to forget what this visit would mean. Telling Jamie and Ian about her relationship with Malcolm had seemed like an easy thing when it was still weeks in the future, but as the moment of truth arrived, she couldn’t prevent the occasional moment of panic from seeping in.

  Muriel was thrilled, of course, having been rooting for the match since Serena and Malcolm’s first spark-filled clash. But to Serena’s brothers, Malcolm was an employee, and she was their sister. Even if her family weren’t snobs, there was no guarantee her overprotective relatives wouldn’t decide he wasn’t good enough for her. Fortunately neither Jamie nor Ian was much for physical intimidation, because she sensed Malcolm wouldn’t respond well to those types of challenges.

  Serena took the day of her aunt’s birthday off from the hotel to make Muriel’s favorite Black Forest gâteau, a three-layer affair with chocolate cake, whipped cream, and the German cherry Kirschwasser liqueur that gave the confection its name. She let the layers cool until after she picked Em up from school and then settled both children at the kitchen table to make special birthday cards with colored paper, glue, and glitter. She assembled the cake layers with the cream-and-jam filling and then carefully transferred it all to a plastic carrier.

  “All right, time to get ready to go to Aunt Muriel’s. Are you looking forward to seeing Uncle Jamie and Uncle Ian?”

  “Yay!” Max exclaimed, but Em’s brow furrowed. “Will Aunt Andrea be mad I’ve not been practicing?”

  “You have been practicing, every Sunday after church.”

  “Yes, but she says if I want to be a great pianist like her, I have to practice every single day whether I feel like it or not.”

  Inwardly Serena wondered if Em’s continuing fascination with the piano had more to do with her adoration of her new aunt than a dream of becoming a musician, but her desire for lessons had started long before Andrea had come along. Who knew but that there might be some great musical talent lurking beneath Em’s surface, just waiting to be unleashed?

  “We have been neglecting your practice a bit, haven’t we? We’ll have to see what we can do about that.” If they decided to stay on Skye, she would have to bring the piano from their home in Nairn, and it would never fit in the croft house’s tiny lounge. There were all sorts of consequences to a move that she hadn’t yet fully considered.

  She got Em and Max suitably outfitted—Em in a pretty wool dress and polished patent-leather shoes, Max in proper trousers and a knit waistcoat—then turned to her own wardrobe. Dinner was supposed to be somewhat formal, though she wasn’t sure whose idea that had been. Em followed her up the stairs and plopped on the bed while Serena considered her clothing options. She held up two different sweaters. “Which do you think? The cream cowl-neck or the blue scoop?”

  Em considered seriously, her brow furrowed like she was solving a maths problem. “The cream. It looks pretty with your hair.”

  Serena pulled the angora sweater over her cotton tank and wide-legged trousers and selected a pair of sizable diamond earrings as a finishing touch. She was just sliding her feet into low-heeled boots when she paused and asked the question had been spinning around her head for the last three weeks. “What would you think about staying on Skye?”

  Em’s expression turned suspicious. “Are you serious?”

  That was not the reaction she’d expected. “Maybe. You and Max seem so happy here, and I know that Auntie likes to have us around . . . Would it be so bad to stay?”

  “What would happen to our house back home?”

  “Well, I imagine we would sell it and find a place here.” Serena sank down on the edge of the bed and smoothed her hand over Em’s hair. “Would that bother you? I know it’s the only home you really know.” It’s also the last reminder of your dad, she thought, not sure whether that was a plus or a minus for her daughter.

  Em chewed her lip. “I don’t know. I don’t think so . . . but it’s weird.”

  “You don’t have to tell me now. Think about it. I think it might be good for us, but I don’t want to make any decisions without consulting you.”

  “And Max?”

  “And Max. Even though I don’t think he much cares as long as he has his cars.”

  Em grinned suddenly. “True. And his giraffe.” She barreled down the stairs, her concerns of moments before apparently forgotten, and Serena followed her to where Max was playing in the lounge. “Re
ady to go, monkey? I got a text earlier that Uncle Ian and Aunt Grace made it to Skye this afternoon.”

  Max cheered, and Serena ruffled his hair. “Come on, then. And don’t forget your giraffe.”

  Max rushed off to retrieve his ratty stuffed animal where it lay on the sofa and tucked it into the crook of his arm. She hustled the children out the door to the car, her stomach starting to quiver. It was silly, really. This was her family. They already liked Malcolm. It would be fine. It had to be fine.

  Serena thought she would be the first to arrive, but the familiar silver Audi parked in Muriel’s drive told her that Jamie and Andrea were already there. Em and Max took off the minute they got their seat belts off, pounding up the stairs to the front door. Serena followed more slowly and stepped through the door to the distinct aroma of cooking.

  As always happened when her brother was around, everyone was gathered in Muriel’s kitchen, where Jamie was busy cutting vegetables at the island. Andrea hoisted Max to give him a big smack on the cheek, while Em hugged her around the middle. Favorite-aunt status looked to be safely assured.

  “Some greeting, huh?” Serena grinned as she gave Andrea her own hug.

  “I love it. I missed my favorite Scottish niece and nephew!” Andrea said.

  “We’re your only Scottish niece and nephew,” Em said.

  Andrea gave Em’s hair an affectionate ruffle. “And you’re way too smart for your own good.”

  Serena circled to give her brother a quick hug, and he planted a kiss on the top of her head with barely a pause in his chopping. “Hi, Sis. Want to grab the platter and arrange these for me while I take the asparagus out of the oven?”

  “Sure. But why are you cooking? We’re having dinner in two hours.”

  “Appetizers,” he said, though it should have been obvious. No matter the occasion, Jamie would find a food-related task for himself.

  Serena found the platter in the cabinet and began to arrange the raw vegetables in an artful starburst pattern. “Why do I get to be your sous-chef tonight?”

  “Because I’m useless in the kitchen,” Andrea said. “He’s all but given up on me.”

  “Clever, Andrea. I should have done the same.” Serena glanced around. “Where’s Auntie? And what happened to Ian and Grace? I thought they were supposed to drive with you.”

  “Auntie is still getting ready, and Ian and Grace are going to meet us at the hotel. They flew straight from Mumbai and barely made their connection in London this morning, so they needed a nap first.”

  “Oh, good. At least they won’t miss dinner.” Serena had spent little time with Grace since she’d come back into Ian’s life, but she liked the effect the woman had had on her formerly conservative—even stiff—older brother. Ian would never have dreamed of a bicontinental lifestyle before. Then again, who would have dreamed they’d go from estranged to married in a mere six months? By those standards, they were still newlyweds.

  Now that the subject had been broached, she had the perfect opening. She tried for a casual tone. “I asked Malcolm to join us tonight.”

  “Oh, good,” Jamie said. “We owe him much more than dinner for how he took care of Max and Em when Muriel was ill.”

  This was the moment she should say, “That’s not why I asked him,” but the words stuck in her throat. Why was she so reluctant to admit they were dating? No matter what Malcolm had accused her of, she wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed. Maybe she simply didn’t want to subject him to scrutiny. Or maybe it was that introducing him to her family as someone important to her made the relationship real.

  “Serena? Vegetables?” Jamie nudged her with his elbow, and she realized she’d been staring absently at the platter.

  “Right, sorry.” She went back to work, diligently focusing on the crudités and not on the prospect of bringing a man she had just started dating to a family function where he would be questioned and scrutinized. Maybe that had been the wrong thing to do.

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you this quiet,” Andrea said. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, just tired. Max has been sleeping even worse than usual these days. I swear, I would have thought we’d be through this two years ago.”

  “That’s rough,” Andrea said. “I’m a complete nightmare when I don’t sleep. Just ask my husband.”

  Jamie held up his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Hey, Em,” Andrea said. “We’ve missed a bunch of lessons. Do you want to see if you still remember your last piece?”

  Em brightened and trailed off behind Andrea to the piano in the reception room. The thump of the fallboard was followed by tentative notes from Serena’s daughter on the piano keys.

  “So now that they’re gone, what’s the real story?” Jamie asked.

  “Excuse me?” Serena scattered cherry tomatoes all over the countertop. “About what?”

  “About Muriel. She’s been all bright and chipper like nothing happened, but she’s still really sick, isn’t she?”

  “I don’t know, honestly. Besides a little tiredness, she seems to be doing well. They took her off the beta-blockers as soon as the thyroid meds kicked in, but she hasn’t told me much else. She’s been surprisingly close-lipped about the whole thing.”

  “Just like Dad. Doesn’t like to admit that she might be human.”

  Serena chuckled. Muriel did always have a superhuman efficiency about her, but the fact she’d been allowing Serena to cook suggested that she knew her limits and was for once abiding by them.

  No matter what she said, the incident had to have scared her.

  “Serena, you’re here!” Muriel breezed into the kitchen, looking so energetic and alive that it made the concerns they’d just expressed seem unfounded.

  Serena hugged her aunt tightly. “Happy birthday, Auntie. What is it, forty-nine?”

  “Oh, hush.” Muriel chuckled. “You know very well I refuse to age past forty-five.”

  Serena grinned and grabbed the plate of appetizers Jamie shoved in her direction while he rearranged the last of the crudités on a platter. There were prosciutto-wrapped asparagus bundles—a family favorite—along with bite-size goat-cheese tarts and some sort of tomato-and-salmon construction. As usual, Jamie prepared for a family birthday as if it were a catered event.

  “These are the last of it,” Jamie said. “Now why don’t you take the guest of honor in there?”

  Muriel smiled and made her way into the reception room with Serena, where Andrea broke into an impromptu rendition of the birthday song on the piano as soon as they entered.

  Max was instantly at Muriel’s side with his homemade card. “Open your gifts now!”

  “Max, why don’t we wait until later when everyone is here?” Serena said.

  Muriel gave her a subtle headshake and patted the sofa cushion beside her. “Come sit next to me on the sofa, Maxie.” He climbed up beside her, ripped open the envelope, and “read” his card to her.

  Em’s card came next, also opened by Max, followed by Serena’s gift of a small flower pendant carved from mother-of-pearl. Muriel immediately removed her necklace and replaced it with the flower. Jamie and Andrea went last, presenting her with an ivory wool shawl big enough to wrap around her several times.

  “These are just lovely,” Muriel said, clasping her hands to her chest. “But the best gift of all is having my family together in one place.”

  Serena cleared her throat. “Speaking of that—and no final decisions have been made yet—I’m seriously considering staying on Skye.”

  “Really?” Jamie asked at the same time Andrea exclaimed, “That’s wonderful!”

  Muriel watched Serena with a knowing expression: she knew what her real motivation was.

  “What about Em’s school?” Jamie asked.

  “Highlands is no longer an option, and it’s the only private day school of that caliber in the area. If I were going to send her to public school, there’s no reason why she couldn’t do the same here. At least she wo
uld be using Gaelic regularly, which I’ve been somewhat lax about at home.”

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Andrea said quickly. “I would move here in a second if our careers allowed.”

  Serena knew Andrea was telling the truth: she’d originally come to Skye on business, and she’d fallen in love not only with Jamie but with the island as well. Serena wouldn’t be surprised if Andrea wanted that slower pace for her future children, much as Serena did.

  “Whatever you decide,” Muriel said, “I hope you’ll spend as much time here as possible. I’ve missed you. It’s good to have you back.”

  It only made sense. Muriel’s recent health scare had proven that someone should be close by as she got older. And if it allowed Serena to continue to explore her relationship with Malcolm, all the better.

  They barely made a dent in the food Jamie had prepared before it was time to go down to the hotel. Muriel volunteered to ride with Serena. As soon as Serena closed the car door, she said, “You’re just going to spring Malcolm on them?”

  Serena grimaced. “I meant to tell them. I just lost my bottle.”

  “They’re going to figure it out soon enough.”

  “I know, I know.” Serena cast a quick look at Muriel. “Do you think I’m mad to consider moving us all back here?”

  “Mad? No. And selfishly I’d love nothing better. But you need to ask yourself if you would be happy living on Skye if Malcolm weren’t in the picture.”

  “Of course,” Serena said. “But is it terrible that I don’t want to find out?”

  Muriel smiled in that way she had, that look Serena thought of as her older-and-wiser expression. She just didn’t know what it meant in the current instance. But she didn’t have long to dwell on it as she pulled up at the hotel beside Jamie’s sleek sedan.

  Moment of truth.

  Serena unloaded Max and Em, who ran ahead and let themselves into the hotel foyer. Serena took a deep breath and waited for Muriel to unfold herself from the passenger seat, then walked with her straight into the commotion of a family reunion.