Lilac Lane

by Sherryl Woods

  It was Megan who caught sight of her first.

  “Oh my, look at you,” she said, coming over to clasp Kiera’s icy hands. “You look fabulous, Kiera.” She turned to the rest of the family. “Doesn’t she?”

  “I would hardly have recognized you,” Mick said. “I like the new hairstyle. It becomes you.”

  Jo beamed. “I need someone to take me in hand, as Moira did for you. I haven’t had a makeover in years and I am in sad need of one. Being on the athletic field at the high school all day long wreaks havoc with my skin and my hair. Kiera, you’re putting all of the O’Brien women to shame with this new look of yours.” She grinned at Megan. “Well, perhaps not her. Megan has always been stylish from head to toe.”

  “It’s those trips to Paris I insist Mick take me on,” Megan replied. “I sit in cafés and observe what the French women are wearing, then adapt it for Chesapeake Shores. I think I’ve learned to knot scarves in at least twenty different ways.”

  “And I always thought there was only one way,” Jo said ruefully.

  Kiera was happy to have their attention diverted from her for the moment and fascinated by the teasing between the sisters-in-law. It continued to astonish her how well the O’Briens meshed as a family, despite differences in styles, opinions and personalities.

  Luke beckoned Kiera over to the bar. “I need a closer look at this transformation,” he said. “Is this the same woman I saw polishing my bar just last night?”

  “Okay, okay,” Kiera said, laughing at last. “I’m flattered by all the attention, but I wouldn’t mind a pint of ale right about now. Is the service in here falling apart without me on the job?”

  “Happy to oblige,” Luke said at once. “And what about some dinner? You and Moira must be starved after your long day. The special tonight is shepherd’s pie.”

  One of my favorites, Kiera thought to herself. She couldn’t help wondering if Bryan had the knack for it, since it hadn’t been on the menu since her arrival.

  “You stay right here,” she told Luke. “I’ll get plates for myself and Moira.”

  Before he could stop her, she walked around the bar and entered the kitchen. “Two shepherd pie dinners,” she called out.

  Bryan’s head swiveled so quickly in her direction, she was surprised it didn’t make him dizzy. Then his mouth gaped in a most startling and complimentary way.

  “Kiera?” he said, his voice oddly choked.

  “Yes. Who else would be barging into the kitchen like this?”

  His gaze narrowed. “You look different.”

  “After the money Moira spent today, I would hope so,” she said tartly, then gave him a hesitant look. “Is it a good difference?”

  His lips curved slightly at the apparent hint of insecurity in her voice. “You look softer, more approachable,” he said, though he sounded as if that was more troublesome than it should have been.

  “Ten years younger, that’s what the stylist claimed,” she said. “Of course, she wanted to be sure of a tip.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Bryan said. “You looked fine before.” He seemed to be fumbling for words. “But don’t all women want to look younger?”

  Kiera studied him curiously. There was something oddly charming about his obvious nervousness. Usually he was brusque to the point of rudeness. If there was something about her look tonight, there was also something very different in Bryan’s reaction to her. She wished she could put her finger on it, but perhaps it was better that she couldn’t put a name to it. That might shift the nervousness straight to her.

  *

  “What took you so long?” Moira asked when Kiera finally returned to take her seat at the bar.

  “Bryan wasn’t giving you a rough time, was he?” Luke asked worriedly. “Or you him?”

  “Not at all,” Kiera said, placing two plates of shepherd’s pie on the bar. It looked just fine, and the aroma was as tempting as any she’d eaten before. “I’m anxious to give this a try. Moira, have a taste and see if it’s like what we get back home.”

  “I’ve had it before,” Moira said. “It’s as delicious as any I’ve ever had, except perhaps that you’ve made yourself. The only dish you make that’s any better is your Irish stew. I have to warn you, though, Bryan’s Irish stew has become a favorite here. He takes great pride in it, as does Nell, who taught him how to make it.”

  Leaving the Irish stew debate for another time, Kiera took a bite of the shepherd’s pie and nodded, pleasantly surprised that it seemed authentic. Not bad for a man who’d once been making sandwiches in a deli.

  “Does it pass muster?” Luke asked.

  “It does,” Kiera said. “It’s quite good, in fact.”

  “And will you tell Bryan that yourself? I know it would please him.”

  “Bryan’s ego needs no boost from me,” Kiera said, not sure why the thought of praising his cooking felt too much like eating crow.

  Luke kept his gaze on her steady. “For the sake of harmony,” he suggested.

  “Fine, then,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll tell him.” She rose to do just that before she lost the will, but Luke waved her back to her seat.

  “After you’ve finished. A clean plate will speak volumes, too,” he told her. “Bryan might not show it, but he could use a bit of reassurance from you from time to time. Nell sings his praises, but that’s become commonplace. You’re a new test for him and one he’s not entirely sure he’s passing. He feels as if you’re judging him each time you walk into the kitchen.”

  Kiera was confused. “Isn’t that what I’m here for? To find areas that need improvement?”

  “Absolutely,” Luke said quickly. “And I’m sure Bryan would welcome a suggestion here and there. Have you shared your thoughts with him?”

  Kiera thought of how she’d been handling things and realized she’d felt constrained by her lack of real standing. She’d observed and judged, but mostly kept her opinions to herself, storing them up for the time when she’d feel free to speak her mind. She could see now how that silence might make Bryan feel uneasy. He’d probably prefer a tart comment or two to the silence.

  “I’ll try to do better at making him feel at ease,” she said, thinking of the hint of nervousness she’d noticed for the first time earlier. Perhaps she had inadvertently thrown him off his game. That had never been her intention, but they did seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. There was no denying that.

  “I’d appreciate that,” Luke said, clearly satisfied by her response.

  “I’ve been cautious about speaking up till now, but if I’m to be honest and more candid with him, then I can’t hold back my opinion when I think he’s gotten it wrong,” Kiera warned.

  A smile tugged at her son-in-law’s lips. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to,” he said. “That would be as wasted an effort as asking the wind not to blow.”

  Kiera laughed. It would, indeed.

  Chapter 4

  Rather than being stuck in his closet of an office, Luke had brought the stacks of dreaded pub paperwork that occupied way too much of his time these days to a table by the window that looked out onto the bay. That view, at least, made the prospect of spending the next couple of hours dealing with numbers and invoices slightly less daunting.

  He’d barely made a dent in the work when the door at O’Brien’s opened and Moira came in with Kate in her stroller.

  “Da!” Kate exclaimed ecstatically when she spotted him. She immediately held out her arms.

  All thoughts of invoices and supply orders vanished as Luke reached for his daughter. His gaze, though, kept straying to his wife.

  “What brings you by? Did you have a meeting with Megan? And why is this little angel with you, rather than your mother?”

  “After we all had breakfast at Sally’s, I dropped my mother off at Connor’s office. There were some forms they needed to go over,” she said.

  Her anxious tone provided a clue for Luke, but her pacing was a dead giveaway that something
about that meeting was upsetting his wife.

  “And that has you worried?” Luke asked, frowning. “Why? Did Connor suggest there might be a problem? Is something holding up the visa application?”

  “No, to the contrary, he thinks this will be the last bit of paperwork needed to satisfy immigration.”

  “That’s great news,” Luke said, lifting Kate high into the air until she giggled.

  “You might want to watch that,” Moira warned. “She just ate an entire pancake at Sally’s, then went after Mum’s eggs. Our little one has the appetite of a horse now that she’s trying regular food, but she hasn’t learned when to stop.”

  “Yes, my worrywart,” Luke said, shifting Kate till her feet touched the ground and she could cling to his knee to stay upright. “You know, I think she’s very close to walking.”

  Moira regarded him incredulously. “She’s not going to be a year old for another month. She’s still falling on her bum whenever she tries.”

  “But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Luke said. “She’s trying. She’s not satisfied with crawling.”

  “I suppose,” Moira responded distractedly, still pacing.

  “Okay, that’s it,” Luke said. “Something is on your mind. Tell me. You’ve learned by now that I’m no mind reader. Is your work not going well?”

  Moira shrugged. “Megan’s pleased with it, or says she is. She’d like me to do more and faster, but I’m working at a pace that gives me time at home. I’ve told her I don’t intend to sacrifice that.”

  “And is she pressuring you to do otherwise?”

  “She doesn’t say it, at least not anymore, but I know she’s disappointed. She thought I’d have more free time with my mother here.”

  “Don’t you?” Luke asked, puzzled by her mood and the entire conversation. Communication skills varied widely between the average man and woman, he’d discovered. For him and Moira, it was as if they spoke entirely different languages and, quite possibly in her case, from some universe not yet discovered.

  “Of course I have more time than I did. I’m out with my camera almost every day now, while Mum watches Kate,” she said impatiently, as if he should already know the obvious answer. “And when my mum is here, Kate’s at day care. I’ve more than enough time. This isn’t about work, Luke.”

  “But it is something,” he said, seizing on the admission, albeit an incredibly skimpy one. “If it’s not your work or the meeting with Connor…”

  “Where I was very pointedly told I wasn’t needed,” she grumbled.

  Uh-oh, Luke thought. “And that offended you?”

  “Well, of course it did. It’s never pleasant being dismissed, but if you’re thinking that’s the issue, you’d be wrong.”

  Luke bit back a sigh he knew would only escalate the frustrating conversation. “Moira, love, just tell me in simple English that my dense male mind can comprehend.”

  She scowled at his attempt at humor, then sighed herself. “To be honest, I miss being here, working by your side.”

  He grinned, hoping to lighten her dark mood. “Is it me you miss or the paperwork?” He shoved a stack in her direction. “I’d be more than happy to turn these over to you and go for a long walk with our Kate.”

  She shook her head, though she did crack a smile. “Nice try, but paperwork was always your domain. I miss the people,” she said candidly. “I didn’t expect to, since there were days I thought they’d drive me mad changing their orders or complaining that something wasn’t just right.”

  “If this is about the company, then, I don’t understand. You’re in here at some point every day. You still see everyone.”

  “It’s not the same.” She sighed again, then lifted her troubled gaze to his. “You’re going to think I’ve lost it, but I think I’m a little jealous of my mum taking my place.”

  He was beginning to get what she was saying, but he was far from understanding any of it. “But this was your idea, Moira. Having your mom here, not just for a visit, but working here.”

  “I know. That’s what makes my feelings so ridiculous. Having her here was what I wanted. She and I are getting along better than we ever did back home. I think she’s feeling more at home here every day. You should see her now at Sally’s in the morning. In just a few short days, she’s become one of the O’Brien women. They all turn to her for an opinion and laugh at her stories from Ireland. She’s got them all wanting another family vacation over there, I think, so be prepared for that.”

  Literal minefields had nothing on the dangers of trying to pick his way carefully through a conversation with his wife. “And you’re feeling left out? Replaced? What?”

  “It’s the same as in here, as if I don’t know how I fit in anymore.” She covered her face, clearly embarrassed. “Next thing you know, I’ll be complaining she’s taken my place in our home, too.”

  Luke bit back a desire to laugh. “I don’t think she’ll ever replace you with me, Moira,” he said, fighting to keep his tone serious.

  Another hint of a smile touched her lips then vanished. “I’m not thinking that, you idiot. But she is making herself indispensable there, too. I’m surprised at how quickly that’s come about.”

  Luke didn’t credit himself with a lot of insightfulness, particularly where his wife was concerned, but he thought maybe he knew what was going on. “Moira, did you by any chance see yourself as your mum’s savior when you suggested bringing her here?” He could tell by the flush in her cheeks that he was on the right track. “And has it turned out that, perhaps, she’s quite capable of saving herself? That she saw she was heading down an old path and was ready to step in a new direction?”

  She regarded him with a narrowed gaze. “When did you get to be so smart and insightful?”

  He couldn’t quite tell if she was impressed by that or if it was another of the day’s annoyances for her. “You’ve given me plenty of practice at sorting through the hints you toss about,” he told her. “I’m learning to put the puzzle pieces together.”

  “Congratulations,” she said wryly. “So how do I fix my feelings, when even I can see that I should be happy that she’s adjusting and that things are going so well?”

  “Maybe you should try congratulating yourself for assessing what she needed and simply getting her here. It wasn’t up to you to fix her sadness, but you insisted she come to a place where she could find her own path to healing.”

  “I didn’t expect it to happen quite so fast,” she admitted. “It’s as if she’s forgotten all about Peter.”

  There was a despondent, accusatory note in her voice that spoke volumes. “Do you feel as if she’s betraying him just because she’s choosing to live her life?” he asked.

  She frowned at the suggestion. “No, of course not. It’s what I hoped for, isn’t it?”

  “So you said at the time you invited her here, but perhaps you’re finding the reality a little more jarring.”

  She fell silent. Luke waited her out. Moira was never quiet for long.

  “Okay, yes,” she said eventually. “I saw the blush on her cheeks when she came out of the kitchen the other night after talking to Bryan. There’s something between those two. I think it’s disrespectful to Peter’s memory.”

  “Ah, so that’s what this is really about,” Luke said, realizing they’d finally hit on the real source of her misery. She’d adored Peter and hoped her mother would have a future with him. Now she feared that Kiera wasn’t mourning him as he deserved. Even if her emotions were contradictory and all over the place, he had to accept they existed and try to console her.

  “Moira, for starters, I don’t think you need to worry that your mother has forgotten Peter or her feelings for him,” Luke said quietly. “I’ve found her in tears more than once when I’ve come home late at night, and each time she’s said how much she misses him.”

  Moira looked startled. “You’ve found my mother in tears and never told me?”

  “I caught her in private moments. Th
ey weren’t mine to reveal,” he said. “As for Bryan, that’s another thing about which you’re worrying for no reason.”

  “I know what I saw,” she said stubbornly.

  Luke laughed. “And I’ve seen it, too, on Bryan’s side, but neither of them is prepared to do a single thing about it. Bryan, at least, is in denial that he has any feelings for your mother at all. He views her as a necessary nuisance, or so he claims. And your mother sees only that they’re battling wits over control of the kitchen, since he’s rejected every suggestion she’s dared to make since I encouraged her to speak up. I’m seriously tempted to make her his sous chef, just to watch the fireworks.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Moira said, then paused and chuckled at last. “Though it might be fun to watch. Bryan’s always seemed a bit closed off and quiet. I like him a lot, but the truth is we know very little about him or his personal life outside of the pub. Seeing the two of them rile each other could be entertaining.”

  “Well, it’s something to consider, once your mother’s status is clarified and we can officially put her on the payroll,” Luke said. “I think she’s struggling with how to handle things with her status unresolved. I hope Connor’s right that the paperwork will go through soon. She needs that to feel secure about speaking out.”

  Suddenly Kate released her grip on his knee and hit the floor with a solid thud. Her cries filled the pub. Moira picked her up and cuddled her close.

  “I suppose she tired of not getting any attention from either of us,” she said.

  “Following in your footsteps, perhaps,” Luke teased. “Weren’t you staging your own cry for attention when you came in the door just now?”

  “I suppose you’ll hold that over my head,” she grumbled.

  Instead, Luke pulled his wife and daughter onto his lap. He tucked a finger under Moira’s chin and turned her face toward him, then kissed her soundly. “If you ever need reassurance about how important you are in my life, all you need to do is say so,” he told her solemnly. “You and Kate are my world.”