When he’d gone, Kiera glanced Bryan’s way. “That was interesting.”
“That’s one word for it,” Bryan said. He met her gaze. “How well do you know Mick?”
“Hardly at all.”
“And his reputation for meddling?”
Kiera looked taken aback. “Is that what turned you into a bundle of nerves at his arrival?”
“By the end of the day, half the O’Briens will be speculating about us,” Bryan confirmed. “The other half will be actively trying to find excuses to stop by the pub to see for themselves if sparks are flying. I predict we’re going to have quite the assortment of O’Briens dropping in tonight.”
Now she looked alarmed. “Surely a man as important as Mick O’Brien has better things to do than spread tales about us, especially when we were doing no more than having coffee together.”
“You heard him, Kiera. He’s semiretired, which means he’s bored. Meddling is what he does to fill his days. With his family mostly settled, we present a golden opportunity. I’ve witnessed his interference in quite a few relationships since I’ve been in town. They’ve turned out well, but little thanks to Mick inserting himself into the middle of them. He thinks he has Nell’s knack for it, but believe me, he lacks her subtlety.”
Though she didn’t look as if she entirely believed him, Kiera lifted her chin with a touch of defiance. “Then we’ll just have to set him straight. We’ll set all of them straight, if it comes to that. I’m grieving Peter and you…” She hesitated. “Well, I don’t quite know what’s going on with you, but one thing’s for certain, we’re more than content just to be civil.” Her gaze narrowed. “Isn’t that right?”
Though he nodded in agreement, Bryan laughed at her naïveté when it came to O’Brien determination. Even though he wasn’t looking forward to what might happen next, it might be fun to watch Kiera trying to squirm out of that particular spotlight. Who knew? Maybe she was clever enough to do what few others in that family had been able to accomplish.
*
On her drive to Baltimore a few days after the school year ended in Charlottesville, Deanna had deliberately detoured through the little seaside town of Chesapeake Shores. She’d even dared to park across the street from O’Brien’s hoping for a glimpse of Bryan Laramie. But while plenty of people had come and gone from the Irish pub during the half hour she remained park there, none had looked like the man whose picture had been featured in that magazine article.
More than once she’d considered getting out of the car and marching inside to confront her father, but in the end, she simply hadn’t had the nerve. She had to make peace with the whole messy situation before she saw him. She had this awful feeling if she did it without careful planning, she’d take one look at him and burst into a flood of tears.
When she’d realized that people were glancing her way, as if curious about why she was simply sitting in her car for so long, she’d finally pulled out of the space and headed on to Baltimore.
In the two weeks since, she’d been so busy getting acclimated to her volunteer summer internship and meeting new people that she’d managed to push aside any thought of what her next step with her father should be. Nor had she made any progress in mending her suddenly awkward relationship with Ash.
She couldn’t blame the latter on him. Once he’d gotten over her plan to move to Baltimore, he’d done all he could to be supportive. Perhaps that stemmed from guilt over keeping silent all these years, but more likely it was simply because that was the kind of man he was. Despite their rocky relationship at the moment, she knew in her heart he wanted what was best for her. If medicine was her dream now, he’d back her 1,000 percent. He’d proved that by insisting on paying the rent on her apartment for the summer and offering whatever she needed in the way of furnishings to be comfortable.
He’d called to touch base every few days, not lingering on the phone or pressing her about anything, just letting her know he loved her no matter what. Though she understood his goal was to mend fences and reassure her, the calls always left her feeling vaguely guilty for not being quite ready to forgive and forget.
After a fascinating but exhausting week observing and being a glorified gofer in a cancer research lab, she was more than ready to order a pizza and call it a night. The weekend stretched out ahead of her, tempting her with all sorts of possibilities. She could explore Baltimore’s Inner Harbor or drive over to Ocean City, as many of her new coworkers planned to do.
Or she could drive down to Chesapeake Shores.
The tantalizing possibility was always there, taunting her for being a coward, for not being ready to take such a huge step.
When her phone rang, she assumed it was the pizza delivery and answered without even glancing at caller ID. Instead, it was Ash.
“Everything okay there?” he asked cheerfully.
“Everything’s going great,” she said automatically.
“You sure? You sound tired. They’re not overworking you, are they?”
“You are such a dad,” she said without thinking. “As if nobody but you should put in a long day.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, sounding just like something she would have said before everything had changed, she fell silent. So did Ash.
He recovered first. “I’m just saying that it is summer. You should have some fun, too. Any big plans for the weekend?”
“Not really. First I want to sleep for about twelve hours straight. Then I’ll decide what I’m up for.”
“Is Chesapeake Shores on the list of possibilities?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted candidly.
“Sweetie, what’s holding you back? Do you not want to meet your father, after all?”
“Of course I want to meet him,” she said with a touch of impatience, then sighed. “It’s just so complicated.”
“Because of what I told you about your mom and me?”
“That certainly didn’t help. I don’t know which situation I need to figure out first. I’m trying to make sense of what you told me, but I can’t quite get past the two of you creating this whole big fake-family lie.”
“We were a family,” Ash said emphatically. “Not in the conventional way and not in the way you thought, but we were a family, Dee. Your mom was always your mom, and I was the best stepfather I knew how to be. My parents loved you as if you were my own child. Isn’t that what makes a family?”
Deanna’s eyes stung with tears. “I wish it were that simple. I know it should be. I know I should focus on the love and the stability that you brought into my mom’s life and mine. That really is what counts. I just can’t get past the fact that our family was built on a lie.”
“I am so, so sorry for that. And I’m even sorrier that it’s complicating all the emotions that come along with finding your biological father. Is there anything at all I can do to make it easier? I told you before that I’ll go with you to Chesapeake Shores if that will help. You don’t have to meet him the first time on your own. I can even stay in the background. He doesn’t even have to know I’m there or who I am. I’ll just be there if you need me.”
A part of her wanted to lean on him, but she knew this was a decision she had to make herself and something she needed to do by herself and in her own time. “I appreciate your willingness to go with me, but I need to do it on my own, when I’m ready. I’ll be able to handle it when the time is right.”
“Well, just remember that I’m here and that I love you and you will always be my daughter in every way that matters.”
She wiped away more tears at his words. That was Ash, strong and solid, even when she knew his heart must be aching. His world had changed, too. She needed to remember that.
“I love you,” she whispered.
After a startled beat, he replied, “Love you more,” just as he always had.
Their relationship might have had a huge setback, but some things would never change. She took comfort in knowing that.
*<
br />
The rhythm of Kiera’s days was becoming familiar and comfortable. Several mornings a week, she worked in Bryan’s garden before the sun got too hot. He usually joined her at some point, either bringing her a cup of tea or a bottle of cold water. They’d even gone back to Panini Bistro a couple of times, thankfully with no chance encounters with Mick or any other O’Brien.
While O’Briens had been in and out of the pub more frequently than usual, their gazes speculative, Kiera had done her best to ignore them and taken even greater care to stay clear of Bryan during their visits. She would give them no fodder for their wild imaginings.
Her daughter, however, had been oddly absent for a week now. Kiera couldn’t help thinking that Moira had somehow figured out that Kiera knew of her role in the cottage renovations and was giving her mother a wide berth until her temper cooled.
Since it was a matter that needed to be settled between them, Kiera decided it was time to pay a visit to Moira’s home on Beach Lane. For one thing, she missed her granddaughter.
When she knocked on the door, she noted that Moira’s car was still in the driveway, and she could hear the sound of Kate’s giggles drifting through the open windows. It was, she thought, the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.
“Come in. It’s open,” Moira called out when Kiera knocked again.
She found her daughter in the kitchen on her knees, cleaning up a splattering of oatmeal that had reached the four corners of the room.
“Did our Kate not like her breakfast?” Kiera inquired, as the little girl in question held out her arms to her. Kiera took a damp cloth to her face and hands before picking her up.
“Your granddaughter picked this morning to throw a fine tantrum,” Moira said. She gave Kate a sour look. “And now, for you of course, she’s all smiles.”
Kiera laughed. “That’s the way it sometimes works. Any idea what set her off?”
“Her beloved father left for work, abandoning her, or so she seemed to assume. Apparently I make a poor substitute.”
“Ah, I lived through that a time or two. Of course, it wasn’t that your father had left for the day, since he’d never been around, but simply that I was not enough for you.”
“Was there a logic to it?” Moira inquired plaintively. “Something that I can do to avoid such a scene?”
“Not that I was ever able to determine. It did always seem to happen when I was in a rush to be somewhere. You were particularly fond of mashing the oatmeal into your hair, then screaming like a banshee when I had to wash it out.”
Moira sighed as she wiped up the last of the oatmeal from the floor. “Then it seems this little apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” Her gaze lifted to Kiera’s. “Mum, how did you do it with three of us and no help at all?”
“There were plenty of days when I didn’t cope all that well,” Kiera confessed. “I just prayed you wouldn’t notice. With three of you, if you’d figured out my weaknesses, I wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
“But you survived,” Moira said, a note of what sounded like awe, or perhaps hope, in her voice.
“I survived. You will, too. And you do have help, more than you could possibly need, if you’d simply ask for it.”
“Pure stubbornness,” Moira admitted. “She’s a wee little girl. I should be able to manage this.”
“There’s a wide path between should and can. You need to learn when to cross to the other side and hold out a hand to your husband or me or anyone else in this town who’d be happy to have your back. Now, sit down, hold your daughter and I’ll make us both a cup of tea.”
Moira took Kate from her, then chuckled. “You’re more like Nell than you probably realize. You think a cup of tea is the solution to every problem.”
“It’s usually a good start,” Kiera told her.
“So what brings you by this morning? Did you have some instinct that I was at my wit’s end?”
“Not at all, but it’s been a few days since we’ve crossed paths. I was wondering if there was a reason for that.”
A guilty flush spread across her daughter’s pale-as-cream complexion. Kiera nodded without a word being spoken. “I thought so. You heard that Mick revealed your part in getting that cottage ready for me. And after you’d played the part of indignant daughter so well, insistent that I stay here under your roof.”
“I had to be convincing, didn’t I? Are you furious with me?”
“I’m wondering why you felt the need to pretend you didn’t want me to move there in the first place, since moving me into close proximity to Bryan Laramie was clearly part of the plan.”
Moira laughed. “Because, just like me, you always do the opposite of what’s expected, just to be contrary. If I’d told you I thought it was the right place and that I thought it might bring you and Bryan a little closer, you’d have moved to the outskirts of town just to spite me.”
“I thought you believed any friendship between Bryan and me would be disloyal to Peter’s memory.”
“Friendship wasn’t the problem,” Moira said. “It was the sparks between you that I found worrisome. So friendship is absolutely all I’m encouraging.”
“Carefully noted,” Kiera said, not even trying to hide a smile.
“And that’s all that’s going on between you, right?”
“Absolutely,” Kiera said.
“Despite what Mick thinks he saw at Panini Bistro and what Luke and I have seen with our own eyes?” Moira pressed.
Kiera laughed outright at the indignation and worry in her daughter’s voice. “You do realize that I’m your mother, and as an adult of reasonably mature years, I have a right to a personal life of my own choosing. Weren’t you the very one who reminded me of that several times since I arrived in Chesapeake Shores?”
Moira frowned at the scolding. “I suppose,” she said reluctantly.
Kiera nodded. “As long as we’ve an understanding about that, then I will tell you that Bryan and I have made peace in the name of cooperation and teamwork at the pub. Nothing more.”
“And those sparks? I know none of us have just imagined them.”
“An interesting outcome,” Kiera said.
And one she was not at all ready to examine too closely and certainly not with her daughter. It was enough that they’d kept her up late at night, her thoughts whirling in unexpected ways, ways she’d thought she was well beyond experiencing.
Chapter 11
“Moira, I know it’s last minute, and more of a commitment than you prefer in terms of time, but an opportunity like this might never come along again,” Megan O’Brien told her as they sat in Megan’s cramped office at her gallery on Shore Road.
Ever since she’d first seen Moira’s photographs, Megan had been an ardent champion of her work. And thanks to her contacts and credibility in the art world, Moira’s career had not only been established, but had taken off in ways she’d never anticipated.
Balancing the opportunities that came her way with her life with Luke and the baby had become a constant tug-of-war. Moira would have been content with life as a stay-at-home mother, but Megan had Luke’s sincere backing when it came to pushing Moira to take advantage of the opportunities to show her work to an increasingly expanding audience across the country.
Sometimes, though, like now, she simply had to put her foot down. After a couple of rough mornings at home with Kate, perhaps she should have been eager to escape. Instead, though, it had made her all the more determined not to fail as a mother. Megan needed to grasp that her family came first.
“Not this time,” she told Megan very firmly, then seized on what had become her latest excuse. “Megan, you know the timing is off. My mother is here—”
Megan cut her off. “Which should make the decision even easier. She’ll be available to help with Kate while you’re away.”
“It’s one thing to have her sit with Kate for an afternoon or evening. It’s entirely different to expect her to manage the baby day in and day out, while working at
the pub, as well,” she said, despite evidence that her mother seemed more than capable of juggling both tasks rather well. Hadn’t she had years of experience at just that? Moira was coming to appreciate the toll of that more and more. Her mum was due a break, not more of the same.
“She raised you and your brothers while working,” Megan reminded her as if she’d been reading Moira’s mind.
Moira recalled those days, her mum exhausted and short-tempered. No, she simply didn’t want Kate exposed to that, even if it appeared things weren’t remotely the same these days. Kiera had mellowed, just as Moira herself had.
“Talk it over with her, at least,” Megan suggested. “This show in San Francisco would open all sorts of doors for you. The gallery there has regulars from not only the West Coast, but from Hawaii, Japan, even China. It’ll be your first international exposure.”
“I started in Ireland,” Moira reminded her, “and there were European collectors when I did my show in New York.”
Megan shrugged those reminders off as if they were of no consequence. “You know what I’m saying, Moira. This is another opportunity to expand your audience that simply shouldn’t be ignored. My role is to give you the best professional advice I can, and I’m telling you this is an invaluable invitation. Sit down with your mother and Luke. I’ll come back to the pub with you right now. We can explain the significance of this to them together. You know Luke will do whatever it takes to support you, and I’m sure your mother will jump on board.”
“No way am I subjecting the two of them to you,” Moira said. “You’re as much of a bulldozer as your husband, Megan O’Brien.”
Megan looked pleased by the comment. “Living with Mick all these years was bound to rub off. We both do enjoy getting our own way.”
“It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
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