Willow Brook Road

by Sherryl Woods

  “And fights? At his age?”

  “That’s probably not quite as typical,” she conceded, though she’d mediated several at Julie’s day-care center involving boys not much older. “Any idea what on earth he was fighting about?”

  “None. The nurse had no idea either and Bobby wasn’t talking. I should probably give the teacher a call now that the immediate crisis is over and see what she has to say.” He paused and muttered a curse under his breath. “I need to call Mack, too.”

  “He knows about what’s going on already, right?”

  “Yes, but I took off in the middle of a website crash. I was supposed to come back to deal with it.”

  “Then go,” she said at once. “I can stay here till you get home.” She saw another of those annoying looks that suggested he didn’t want to inconvenience her. “Or I’ll stay till you can get somebody else, if you don’t want me here.”

  Guilt darkened his eyes. He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Carrie, I am so sorry if I’ve made you feel as if you have no place here. I’m not even sure why I let myself get so crazy today. Maybe it was because Susie was trying to take over and I got defensive about that. Then Bobby wanted you with him, not me, and I hate relying on you, on anyone, right now. I need to know I can handle this stuff on my own, but the truth is that I can’t. When I arrived at the nurse’s office at school and saw that black eye and split lip, I felt completely helpless. I wanted to burst into tears myself and curse Laurel for putting me into this position.”

  Carrie felt the start of her tension easing. “Welcome to parenthood! Do you think there’s a parent on earth who hasn’t felt that way the first time his or her baby gets a cut or bruise that they couldn’t prevent? The only adult I know who seems to handle that with complete aplomb is Gram. Nell has seen more than her share of injuries and come to accept that the vast majority are messy, but not life-threatening. She’s really the one you want around in a crisis. The rest of us just do the best we can.”

  The corners of Sam’s mouth lifted. “Are you suggesting you were as scared as I was?”

  “Not so much scared as wanting to cry because Bobby was in pain.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Neither did you,” she reminded him. “You did everything just right, Sam. You even called me when Bobby asked for me, rather than making him tough it out.”

  She risked taking a step closer and this time she did put her hand on his cheek. “You did just fine, Sam.”

  “I have to wonder if every day is going to bring some new challenge that’s going to make me feel completely inept.”

  “More than likely,” she said candidly. “But think about last night. When Bobby was sad and lost, you pulled together exactly the right sort of celebration of his dad. You made everything okay again.”

  Sam sighed. “His mom and dad are gone. Nothing will ever be okay again.”

  “It won’t be the same again,” she corrected. “But it will be okay, because he has you.” She hesitated, then added, “And me, if you want me around.”

  He reached for her then and pulled her into his arms. Carrie accepted the embrace and the apology that was in his actions, if not exactly in his words.

  “I want you around,” he said. “More than I probably should. You’re going to get sick of being my go-to person.”

  Carrie touched a finger to his lips. “Kiss me.”

  Sam looked startled, but then he bent his head and claimed her lips. Like a drowning man, he clung to her and kissed her until they were both breathing hard.

  When he finally pulled away, Carrie caught her breath, then smiled. “There are some definite perks that go with being the go-to person in your life.”

  “It’s not nearly enough compared to what I owe you.”

  “Let me be the judge of that. Now go back to work. I’ll be here when you come home. If we’re lucky, Bobby will be sleeping soundly.”

  A grin tugged at his lips. “What on earth will we do, then?”

  “I have a few ideas. We’ll discuss them when you get home.” She shrugged. “Or not. Maybe I’ll just show you.”

  She laughed as Sam pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Calling Mack. If there’s a God in heaven, he will have solved that website problem without me.”

  “But you won’t be really happy until you see for yourself that it’s been handled properly. Go.”

  He hesitated, then asked, “We’re okay, even after my slight lapse into idiocy?”

  “We’re okay,” she assured him.

  He claimed her lips one more time, then headed for the door.

  “Hurry home,” she called after him.

  “I like how that sounds,” he said, then closed the door behind him.

  Carrie liked it, too, probably a little too much, given how prone Sam was to panicking over where things were headed between them.

  * * *

  Unfortunately the tech issue at the paper hadn’t been resolved. It took Sam and Mack hours of frustrating work and way too many calls to their service provider to get everything back online and functioning properly.

  “Do you think Kristin Lewis deliberately left some sort of bug in there just to yank your chain?” Sam asked, referring to the woman who’d initially designed the website and gotten it up and running. He knew she and Mack had a romantic history she’d hoped to recapture when she’d come to town. It had been a messy situation, complicated when a subsequent relationship with Luke O’Brien had fallen apart, as well.

  Mack looked startled by the suggestion. “I can’t imagine that. I thought Kristin and I were on decent terms by the time she left.”

  “She was still the woman scorned,” Sam reminded him.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter,” Mack said. “Kristin got a better job clear across the country, and we’ve solved the problem once and for all.” He slapped Sam’s hand in a celebratory high five.

  “We think we’ve solved the problem,” Sam corrected. “I thought I had it fixed last week, remember? If it crops up again, I’m serious about looking into sabotage. If Kristin is the web genius everyone says she was, she could be hacking in from anywhere.”

  “I am not going there,” Mack said. “In fact, the only thing I’m going to do right now is go home and spend what’s left of the evening with my wife. I honestly think we may have turned a corner earlier today.” He gave Sam a weary look. “Of course I’ve thought that before.”

  “Did she understand why I had to pick Bobby up myself?”

  “Eventually,” Mack said. “But I don’t think I’ll mention that Carrie got involved. It might set her off again. Every time I think those two have mended fences, another incident crops up.”

  “Carrie is going to be involved with Bobby and me,” Sam said flatly. “Susie needs to accept that.”

  “Then it’s gotten serious?” Mack asked.

  “It’s definitely moving in that direction,” Sam said. “I’m scared to death about that. Things in my life are changing way too fast for me. Not that long ago I was the guy who was always ready to move on or go on some dangerous adventure at the drop of a hat. Now, here I am, a dad and putting down roots and thinking about adding a woman to the mix for the long haul. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have bet fifty cents on any of that ever happening.”

  Mack laughed. “Was that panic that just washed across your face?”

  Sam nodded. “More than likely.” He paused, thought about it, then added, “You know what, though? It’s not quite as terrifying as I expected it to be, because it’s Bobby and it’s Carrie. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Believe me—I know exactly what you mean. I was the ultimate player,” Mack admitted, his expression nostalgic. “I had no intention of ever allowing a relationship to get serious. Susie wisely vowed she’d never even go out with a guy who tossed women away the way I did.”

  Mack laughed. “And then lightning struck and I realized Susie was the one. For the
first time in my life I knew exactly what I wanted and who I wanted to be with.” He laughed. “To my everlasting regret, it took a lot longer to convince her to take a chance that I’d mended my ways.”

  “No regrets?”

  “Not for me,” Mack said without hesitation. “Not a one, even now when things are rocky. I know we belong together and I believe we will have a child. Susie and I are in this together for the rest of our lives.”

  Listening to the deeply held conviction behind Mack’s words, Sam nodded. He wanted to believe that strongly in what he had with Carrie. He was more than halfway there. He thought she might be, too. He wasn’t sure what it would take to get the rest of the way or if either of them were up to the challenge, but, if determination to take that final leap counted for anything, they’d get there.

  * * *

  Bobby had grape Popsicle dribbling down his chin and all over his hands and shirt. Carrie had given up trying to keep up with the drips and figured this shirt, like the one he’d worn earlier, would either come clean in the wash or make an excellent dust cloth.

  They were sitting on the back deck to save the kitchen floor from the inevitable stickiness, when Sam found them.

  “Hey, buddy! How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” Bobby reported. “I’m having Popsicles for dinner.”

  “Excellent.” His gaze sought out Carrie’s and held. “Everything okay around here?”

  “We’re doing fine, if you don’t count the fact that this is the second shirt we’ve probably lost to Popsicle stains.”

  Sam shrugged. “They’re T-shirts. They’re expendable.”

  “My sentiment exactly.”

  Sam’s expression sobered. He lifted Bobby up and sat him on his lap. In a tone he obviously meant to be casual, he said, “So, pal, maybe you should fill us in on what actually happened at school today.”

  “I was in a fight,” Bobby said, as if it were of no consequence.

  “I know that much,” Sam said, his tone still light. “You have the black eye and split lip to prove it. But since fighting isn’t on the approved list of school activities and you’re aware of that, maybe you could tell me who hit you and why? Did someone else start it?”

  Bobby’s expression shut down and he dropped the remainder of his icy treat on the ground. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He struggled to break free. “I want to go to bed.”

  “Not an option,” Sam said. “What happened?”

  When Bobby tried once more to squirm off his lap, Sam held him in place.

  “Bobby, it’s okay to tell us,” Carrie said gently. “It’s not tattling.”

  “I don’t care about tattling,” Bobby said angrily. “What Patsy said was a lie, so I shoved her.”

  Shock spread across Sam’s face. “You shoved a girl?”

  “Don’t feel sorry for her,” Bobby said mutinously. “Because then she hit me in the eye and busted my lip.” His cheeks colored pink with obvious embarrassment.

  “The fight was with a girl?” Sam repeated, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of that.

  “She’s mean,” Bobby declared. “And she told a big old lie.”

  “What was the lie?” Carrie asked, understanding that was at the heart of the fight.

  “She said my mom and dad went away and left me on purpose because I was a dumb, stupid boy.”

  Carrie gasped at the cruelty of that. More than likely a six-year-old hadn’t understood the depth of pain such a comment would cause, but it was shocking just the same. No wonder Bobby had reacted the way he had.

  “You know your mom and dad didn’t want to leave you,” Sam said, clearly shaken. “They loved you more than anything.”

  “I know,” Bobby said impatiently. “That’s why it was a lie.”

  Sam cast a what-now look in Carrie’s direction.

  “Bobby, you still don’t shove someone just because they say mean things that hurt you,” Carrie said, even though she wouldn’t mind giving the girl’s mother a good hard shove. Clearly little Patsy had heard some comment at home that encouraged such talk.

  “I had to do something,” Bobby said in frustration.

  Carrie recognized the childish sense of impotence behind the rage he must have felt. “I know, sweetheart. You should have walked away and told the teacher. Wouldn’t that have been better than shoving Patsy and having her punch you? If you’d done that, you wouldn’t have needed stitches.”

  “It was worth it,” Bobby said stubbornly. “Because I got stitches, you’re here and I got Popsicles for dinner.”

  Carrie saw that Sam was struggling to fight a smile. Eventually he was able to face Bobby with a sober expression.

  “And because you were fighting when you knew better, you now get to go to your room and think about how wrong it is to hit someone else or to shove them,” he said sternly. “It’s not the way we solve problems.” He pointed toward the house. “Go.”

  Bobby climbed down and headed inside, though he didn’t look the least bit repentant. Just inside the door, he turned back. “If you’d been there, I’ll bet you’d have shoved her, too.”

  When he was out of earshot, Sam met Carrie’s gaze. “I sure would have wanted to,” he admitted.

  “You’re not alone there,” Carrie told him. “You probably should have a conversation with little Miss Patsy’s mother or father.”

  Sam looked as if he’d rather eat dirt. “Do I have to?”

  Carrie laughed. “Scared she’s going to split your lip, too?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m not 100 percent sure I won’t throw the first punch.”

  “I have faith in you,” Carrie assured him. “Not only does fighting not resolve anything, which you perfectly well know, but hitting a girl is never acceptable, something you also know.”

  He gave her a long look. “That child told Bobby that his mom and dad left him on purpose. Am I supposed to forget about that?”

  Carrie felt her own anger stir again at his reminder of the hurtful exchange that had started all this. “Maybe I should come along,” she suggested. “Not to keep you in check, but so that I can throw a punch. There’s not a soul in this town who wouldn’t back me up.”

  Sam moved to sit beside her and draped an arm over her shoulders. “And that is why I know you and I belong together. We’re of one mind.” He gave her a sideways glance. “And maybe we’re meant to keep each other’s tempers in check.”

  “Too bad. I do have red hair and those Irish genes, you know, and I haven’t been in a good brawl in years,” she said, then rested her head on his shoulder.

  Sitting just like that, with the memory of the previous night’s glorious sunset and poignant birthday celebration still very much on her mind, she felt contentment steal over her. She glanced at Sam and saw that the tension in his jaw had eased, as well.

  This, she thought, was what real couples did. They faced problems together, worked through them, and their families were stronger because of it. The only issues she and Marc ever resolved together were work related. Anytime she’d tried to bring up his neglect or anything else personal, he’d tuned her out. She should have recognized they were missing out on a key aspect of any good relationship.

  She had her own crazy family with all of its ups and downs to look to as prime examples of the way it should be done. Not every day was sunshine and roses. Those hurdles, faced together, were the strength behind every O’Brien family.

  20

  Sam requested a meeting with Bobby’s teacher, Amy Pennington, and Patsy’s mother, Allison Rogers. The three of them met in the first-grade classroom after school the day after the fight that had sent Bobby to Noah’s office.

  Allison Rogers appeared to be a nice enough woman, a little harried and a bit indignant about being dragged away from work in the middle of the afternoon, but otherwise reasonably pleasant. She seemed genuinely mystified about why she was there.

  Bobby’s teacher, who did, inde
ed, look a little like Mrs. Claus with her white hair and frameless glasses, took charge of the meeting.

  “Allison, I’m not sure if you’re aware that we had a problem on the playground yesterday. I did leave you a message, but since you didn’t call back, I can’t be sure if you got it,” Mrs. Pennington said.

  “Last night was insane. I never checked for messages,” Mrs. Rogers admitted. “Was it anything serious? If so, the office has my cell number.”

  “I tried that, as well.” The teacher waved off the issue. “It doesn’t matter now, since you obviously received the request to be here this afternoon.”

  “The principal called me this morning at work and made it seem like a matter of life or death,” she said. “I certainly hope it’s at least that important. My boss hates it when I leave early and I need this job.”

  “Then let’s address this quickly,” Mrs. Pennington suggested briskly. “Yesterday Patsy was involved in a fight with Sam’s nephew, Bobby. She said something quite cruel and he, naturally, took offense. He gave her a shove, and then she split his lip and gave him a black eye.”

  “That’s what he gets for shoving her,” Allison said defensively, frowning at Sam. “Surely he knows better.”

  Sam had left the entire conversation up to the teacher until now, but he couldn’t let that pass. “How would you react if you were a scared six-year-old living with an uncle you barely know in a new town, attending a new school and someone told you that your recently deceased parents had deliberately left you because you were a no-good, stupid boy?”

  To her credit, Mrs. Rogers looked shocked. “That’s what Patsy said?”

  “I’m afraid so,” the teacher confirmed. “I overheard her myself, but before I could intervene, Bobby had lashed out and Patsy had hit him hard enough that he required stitches.”

  Patsy’s mom regarded Sam with what appeared to be genuine regret. “I am so sorry. I hate to admit it, but I think I have some idea where this is coming from. Patsy’s father recently left us. One of his parting shots was that he was going because I was a failure at discipline and the kids—I have a son, too—are out-of-control brats. Naturally that was shouted at the top of his lungs from the front lawn. Patsy and her brother heard every word.”