Willow Brook Road

by Sherryl Woods

  Mack shook off whatever was troubling him and forced a smile. “No, nothing for you to worry about. Do you need more time off? Like I told you when you called the other day, I can manage for another week. I might not have the creative-design expertise you have, and I definitely don’t have your tech skills, but I can post stories and pictures.” He regarded Sam with concern. “You must have a list a mile long of things you need to do to adjust to having custody of your nephew.”

  “You have no idea,” Sam said. “Thank goodness my sister and brother-in-law had the foresight to have a will. Too many young couples think they’re immortal, according to the lawyer. He says it’s critical to plan ahead when there are children to consider. They even had a small life-insurance policy that will be set aside for Bobby’s education.”

  He shook his head. “It’s hard to imagine my sister being quite so organized. Neither one of us thought much beyond our next meal when we were kids.”

  “Maybe that’s why,” Mack suggested. “Kids who grew up in a chaotic household often feel the greatest need for a sense of stability. And, in case you’re wondering, I know that from experience.” He gave Sam a rueful look. “Of course, I had to go through a playboy stage and a career crisis before I figured out what I really needed and got my life on track.”

  Maybe Sam was more like Mack than he’d realized. He certainly hadn’t changed dramatically from his early days of wanting to seize whatever adventure came along next. Now, though? He needed to figure out how to do the whole stable thing in a hurry for Bobby’s sake.

  “Maybe that explains it,” he said, though he was still skeptical. She might have bossed him around like a mature adult, but she’d had her own wild moments before she’d married. “I think it was probably Robert’s doing. Laurel’s husband was a real steady guy. Money in the bank every week for the future, oil changed in the car, tires rotated or replaced right on schedule. It was ironic, really, that it was a faulty tire blowing that caused their car to spin out of control on a busy highway.”

  “That just shows that we can’t always plan for every curve life might throw at us,” Mack said. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

  Sam nodded, unexpected tears once more threatening. “Me, too,” he said, his voice choked. He sighed heavily, then added, “All I know about the future is that I need to enroll Bobby in school this morning. After that, I don’t have a real plan.”

  “School doesn’t start for almost a month,” Mack reminded him. “There’s no rush. Why not wait at least till Monday? If you need to have any paperwork expedited, I’m sure someone in the family will be able to help. Susie’s cousin Connor is a lawyer. And her uncle, Mick O’Brien, can get just about anything done around here with a phone call. Give Bobby a few days to get used to being here, let him get familiar with the town, meet a few kids. Give yourself time to get your feet back under you, too.”

  “I just thought maybe if he was enrolled in school and knew there was going to be a familiar routine, he’d feel more settled,” Sam said. “I’m not sure he quite understands that this is his home now. He says all the right words about knowing Mommy and Daddy are in heaven, but I just have this sense he still expects them to find their way back to him.”

  “That must kill you,” Mack said, then hesitated. “Look, I may think a break before he has to think about anything except being a kid might be good, but run it by Susie. She’s smarter about this sort of thing than I am. It just seems to me Bobby’s already had to make a lot of big adjustments. A couple of extra days to hang out with you might make him feel more secure. You guys probably need some serious bonding time.”

  Sam nodded. “That does make sense. And, like you said, maybe it’ll help me to wrap my head around everything that’s happened, too.”

  “What about a place to live?” Mack asked. “I’m sure Jess will give you a break here, if you need to stay on for a while longer.”

  “She mentioned that when I got back last night,” Sam responded. “But as convenient and wonderful as the inn is, it’s not a long-term solution. The sooner I can find a permanent place for us, the better it will be.”

  “I can help with that,” Susie said, returning just in time to overhear. “I know every property in town that’s available for rent or for sale. Any preference?”

  “I’d planned to rent a small apartment, if there is such a thing in Chesapeake Shores, but now...” His voice trailed off and he shrugged. “Bobby needs stability, so maybe a house.”

  “I agree,” Susie said enthusiastically. “And I already know the perfect one. It’s not too big and it’s on Willow Brook Road, which is a wonderful street with lots of shade trees and nice yards. There are several children Bobby’s age on the street, and a lot of the kids in our family are over there a lot, too. My cousin’s daughter lives there and she watches them after school from time to time.”

  “Carrie?” Sam asked.

  A startled look passed across Susie’s face. “How on earth did you know that?”

  “I ran into her last night when I was picking up dinner at O’Brien’s. She mentioned she has children in and out all the time.”

  “It’s not a formal day care or anything like that,” Susie explained. “Carrie just happens to be really good with children, so all the O’Brien little ones gravitate to her. The adults take terrible advantage of that. I think we all know that sooner or later she’ll decide on a new career and go back to the glamorous life she used to live, but in the meantime, she’s a godsend.”

  The mention of Carrie’s previously glamorous life set off alarms for Sam. It only confirmed what he’d guessed the previous night just looking at her in an outfit even he could tell hadn’t come off a rack at a discount store. Hadn’t he already experienced one disastrous relationship that ended because he’d rather spend his money on adventures than clothes? Maybe Carrie Winters, despite her thoughtful offer, wasn’t the best person to bring into Bobby’s life...or his, especially if her future in Chesapeake Shores was as uncertain as Susie had just suggested. Bobby didn’t need to form an attachment to another person who might disappear from his life at any moment.

  He hesitated about even considering a house just down the street from Carrie. It seemed like a really bad idea. But looking into Susie’s expectant face, he knew he couldn’t afford to ignore a house with real potential, especially in a town where he already knew real estate came at a premium and was in short supply.

  “Sure, let’s take a look,” he said. “I’ll give you a call and we can set it up.”

  “You don’t want to look this morning? I have time.”

  “Don’t push,” Mack said quietly. “Sam has a lot to do.”

  “Anything more important than this?” Susie asked, her voice tight.

  With Mack’s steady gaze holding hers, she finally backed down. She reached in her purse and handed Sam a business card. “Call me whenever you’re ready. But houses don’t stay on the market long here,” she cautioned.

  Sam nodded, then turned to Bobby, noting that he was making slow but steady progress through a stack of pancakes more suited to Sam’s appetite than a boy’s. “You doing okay, buddy?”

  Bobby nodded happily, his mouth full. When he’d swallowed, he took a big gulp of milk and said, “You were right, Sam. These are the best, even better than Mom’s.”

  As if he’d suddenly realized what he said, his smile faded. “Is it okay that I like them?” he whispered. “It won’t make Mom mad, will it?”

  “No way,” Sam said. “Your mom only wanted the very best for you always, whether it was pancakes or...” He searched his mind for something sufficiently yucky to appeal to Bobby’s sense of the ridiculous. He grinned. “Or escargots.”

  Bobby wrinkled his nose. “What’s that?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Snails,” Sam told him.

  With Susie and Mack fighting smiles, Bobby made a gagging sound. “Mom would never make me eat snails.” He gave Sam a wary look. “You’re not gonna, either, are you?”

&n
bsp; “They are considered a delicacy,” Sam told him.

  Bobby’s jaw set stubbornly. “I don’t care. I’m not eating them.”

  Sam laughed and ruffled his hair. “Okay. Good to know where you draw the line when it comes to food. No snails.”

  “No snails,” Bobby repeated fervently. He bounced in his seat. “What are we gonna do today?”

  Sam glanced at Mack, then back at his suddenly eager nephew. “I thought I’d play hooky and we could check out the shops on Main Street, maybe spend some time on the beach or swim in the pool. And I think I saw a playground on the town green. Would you like to check that out?”

  “All right!” Bobby said with a fist pump that had everyone at the table smiling.

  Sam breathed in a sigh of relief. Finally, after days of awkward, disapproving silences and difficult choices that had Bobby shifting from tantrums to outright rebellions, it seemed Sam had gotten something exactly right. Unfortunately, it was mostly thanks to Mack’s instincts and not his own.

  * * *

  Even after giving Jackson a bath and dressing him in clean clothes after the cereal debacle, Carrie discovered it was still surprisingly pleasant for a morning in early August. Rather than pushing his stroller straight over to her house, she headed for Main Street and then Shore Road.

  Her first stop was Grandma Megan’s art gallery, which was currently showing an exhibition of Moira’s local photographs, many of them taken of O’Brien children, as well as other Chesapeake Shores residents. Luke’s wife had become a surprisingly successful photographer thanks to Megan’s contacts in the New York art world. Out of loyalty to Megan, Moira always insisted on a show here in town in late summer. It had the added advantage of giving her a solid stretch of time at home with Luke.

  When Grandma Megan spotted Carrie with the baby, she rushed over to hold open the door.

  “There’s my precious boy,” she cooed, leaning down to scoop Jackson out of the stroller.

  “I’m delighted to see you, too,” Carrie said, amused by her grandmother’s complete lack of interest in anything other than her first great-grandchild.

  Megan glanced up at her. “I fussed over you from the day you were born. It’s Jackson’s turn now.” She bounced the baby in her arms. “You’re almost too big for me to hold.”

  “I’d suggest you not bounce him quite so energetically,” Carrie cautioned. “He’s just finished his breakfast.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time someone in this family spit up all over one of us,” Megan said dismissively.

  “Didn’t you buy that scarf in Paris when you and Grandpa Mick went there for your second honeymoon?” Carrie asked. “Isn’t it your favorite?”

  Her grandmother glanced down and shrugged. “I’ll just make your grandfather take me back to buy another one.”

  “And he’d do it without batting an eye, wouldn’t he?” Carrie said, envying them the devotion they’d found together the second time around.

  Apparently something in her voice alerted Megan that Carrie was in an odd mood. She returned Jackson to his stroller with a little pat, then turned to Carrie, giving her the full attention she’d apparently concluded was required. “Would you care for some tea? It’s Irish Breakfast tea, Nell’s favorite.”

  “We should be going. You’re probably busy.”

  “I’m never too busy for a visit with you. Sit. I’ll get the tea.”

  When she came back, Carrie was pushing the stroller back and forth and watching Jackson fight sleep.

  “Here’s your tea,” Megan said, handing her the delicate, old-fashioned chintz-patterned teacup. “Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “I’m at loose ends,” Carrie admitted.

  “No news there,” her grandmother agreed. “Any thoughts about what you intend to do about it?” She gave her a sly look. “Other than avoiding advice from your grandfather, that is?”

  Carrie grinned. “How’d you guess?”

  “The way you took off from the pub as if you didn’t hear him calling after you last night,” Megan said. “And the fact that you’re in here right now, rather than in your own house where you could put the baby down for his nap.”

  “You know how Grandpa Mick is,” Carrie said.

  “I most certainly do,” Megan replied. “That said, not all of his ideas should be dismissed so readily.”

  “But I need to find my own ideas,” Carrie argued. “Isn’t that the whole point of growing up, to figure out what we’re meant to do? You didn’t exactly have a handle on it, did you? You were how old and had five kids at home, when you decided it wasn’t enough, divorced Grandpa Mick, moved to New York and discovered how much you loved art and working in a gallery?”

  “Touché,” her grandmother said. “But there was a little more to the divorce than my running off to find myself.”

  “I know that. It was because Grandpa Mick was a workaholic and you felt like he’d abandoned you to be a single mom, stuck at home with five kids.”

  Megan smiled at what even Carrie knew to be a simplistic version of a very difficult time in her grandparents’ marriage.

  “That does sum it up,” Megan acknowledged. “Or at least the heart of what happened. Here’s the difference between you and me. I didn’t know just how unhappy I was for a very long time, and I hurt a lot of people when I took off, including your mother and your aunts and uncles. I’ve spent a lot of time making amends for that. You have the advantage of being on your own. Now’s the perfect time for you to get serious about finding your dream. To make your mistakes when the only person likely to be hurt is you.”

  Carrie met her sympathetic gaze. “You’re talking about Marc.”

  “Not exactly. I’m talking about what you did to yourself. You worked yourself into exhaustion to impress a man who didn’t appreciate it,” Megan corrected. “The good news is that you had sense enough to leave before you were trapped by a marriage that was doomed.”

  Carrie rolled her eyes. “Trust me, marriage was never on the table, except maybe in my fantasy. Marc had an entirely different agenda. He was a selfish, manipulative man who took advantage of the feelings he knew I had for him. I can see that now.”

  “Good for you! You won’t make a similar mistake again, will you?”

  “I sure hope not.”

  Her grandmother studied her worriedly. “You’re not going to let that one mistake keep you from taking risks or opening your heart again, are you? Because that would be a real tragedy. You have so much potential, Carrie, so much love to give.”

  “But I need a purpose,” Carrie told her. “Grandpa Mick has been harping on that ever since I left Europe.”

  “And he’s right. Everyone needs a purpose, a passion that makes them want to get up in the morning.”

  “So you think I’m wasting time, too?”

  “No, I think you’re taking your time trying to avoid another mistake. That’s not you. You’re my impulsive, embrace-everything granddaughter, but suddenly you’re scared. I think that’s what I hate most about Marc Reynolds. He robbed you of that wonderful, spontaneous spirit that made you special. If I may offer one piece of advice, it’s this. Start taking chances again, Carrie. If something feels right, try it. If someone feels right, open your heart.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Carrie acknowledged. “Maybe I have been playing it safe.”

  She gave her grandmother a plaintive look. “Or maybe I simply have no idea where to go from here.”

  Her grandmother wrapped her in a tight embrace. “You’ll know it when it comes along. In the meantime, I’ll try to get your grandfather to give you some space.”

  Carrie laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but we both know that’s a losing fight. I’ll just tune him out.”

  She tried to imagine how well that would work and couldn’t. “I’d better get Jackson home. He’ll be awake again any minute and he tends to wake up cranky. We don’t want him scaring off your customers.”

  “Wednesdays are usually
slow. I’m not worried. I’m glad you came by, sweetheart.”

  “Me, too. Love you.”

  Surprisingly, though there had been no sudden bursts of inspiration during their conversation, Carrie felt at peace when she left. That lasted two whole blocks until she spotted Sam Winslow sitting on a bench by the playground, and his nephew heading straight for the top rungs of the jungle gym.

  Carrie’s breath caught in her throat as she pushed the stroller as fast as she could in their direction. She didn’t dare call out for fear the boy would take a misstep and tumble straight to the ground.

  With her eyes glued to the boy, she made it to the base of the jungle gym and stood there watching his every move, ready to catch him if he fell.

  She sensed Sam’s approach, but never looked away.

  “What were you thinking?” she said in a quiet voice. “Did you have any idea what he was doing?”

  “Of course I did,” Sam said defensively, his welcoming smile immediately fading. “I’m not completely incompetent. Bobby’s been climbing jungle gyms since he was four. He’s a little daredevil.”

  He leveled a look at her. “Don’t believe me?” He whipped out his cell phone and showed her a picture of a triumphant little boy atop another jungle gym with a woman who was clearly his mom standing watch just below, a tremulous smile on her lips.

  “Your sister?” Carrie asked.

  Sam nodded.

  “She looks terrified.”

  “But she let him do it,” Sam pointed out.

  “The difference is she was standing right below in case he fell.”

  “And I was sitting a few feet away. I may have looked distracted to you, but trust me, I saw his every move. And you saw firsthand how quickly I got over here when you turned up.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Carrie, I may be new at this, but I’m not going to let anything happen to Bobby. My sister trusted me to get it right, and I will.”

  She looked into his eyes then and heard the sincerity behind his words. “Then I should relax and leave you to it.”

  “Or you could go to the café with us. I promised Bobby a milk shake and a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch.”