Buried Innocence - A Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery - Book Thirteen (Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Series)
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“Oh, okay,” he muttered, then turned on his side and went back to sleep.
She got up and walked over to the bathroom, regretting her thoughtless words. A few minutes later, she carefully let herself out of her bedroom, closing the door carefully so she didn’t wake Bradley. She turned into the hall and nearly ran into Mike.
“I heard,” he said without any explanation.
She sighed and leaned against the wall. “So, you know that I was totally self-absorbed and didn’t even think that I was giving him the worst news of his entire life.”
“No, I saw a woman who took the time, even though she was uncomfortable, to speak with someone in pain,” he replied.
Shaking her head, she wiped the tears filling her eyes. “No, Mike, you’re just being nice to me,” she said. “I was thoughtless and abrupt. I know better than that.”
“Unlike me, you’re human,” he said with a gentle smile. “And you get to make mistakes. Of course, as you probably guessed, even as a human I didn’t make mistakes.”
She rewarded him with a watery chuckle. “Mike, you can’t believe everything your mom used to tell you,” she responded automatically.
“See, there’s my Mary back in fighting form,” he said with a laugh. “So, what do you say we go downstairs and grab some milk and cookies? Bradley forgot to mention that he picked up several of your favorite kinds today.”
“Mike, as much as I’d like to believe it, cookies do not solve the problems of the world.”
“Yeah, I know,” he admitted. “But they sure help when the going gets rough.”
Pausing for a moment, undecided, she weighed her options. She really should go back to bed just in case Steve decided to come back. Of course, it was highly unlikely that Steve would come back that night, or any night, she recalled sadly. Then her stomach growled, and she realized she had only eaten a protein bar for dinner. And really, cookies and milk sounded really good. She turned to Mike. “What kind of cookies?” she finally asked.
Grinning, he floated towards the stairs and nodded towards the kitchen. “Why don’t we both go downstairs and find out,” he suggested.
She pushed up from the wall and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
By the time she reached the kitchen, Mike already had a glass of milk poured for her and was pulling containers of cookies from the pantry. He looked over his shoulder and motioned with a box of cookies. “Have a seat at the table,” he directed. “I’m almost done here.”
She looked over to the counter to see a stack of six different containers of cookies. “Mike, I only want one or two of them,” she said.
He turned and placed the final two containers on the top of the stack and carried them to the table. “Sure, one or two of each kind,” he said. “Mary, you have to remember. You’re eating for two.”
“Mike, I’m having a baby, not a litter,” she complained.
Placing the assortment in front of her, he glided into the chair next to her and then rested his chin on his hands. “Come on, Mary,” he coaxed. “Tell Uncle Mike what’s wrong.”
Ripping open a package of sandwich cookies, she pulled one out and bit down ferociously. “Mike, this isn’t funny,” she exclaimed as she chewed.
“I didn’t say it was,” he replied, leaning closer. “Have you always felt that you had to be perfect?”
“I’m not perfect,” she replied. “I never said I was perfect.”
She absently pulled out another cookie and bit into it. “I just said that I was wrong to tell Steve that he was dead.”
“Was he?” Mike asked.
“Was he what?” she asked.
“Was he dead?”
“He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.”
“So, you didn’t lie, right?
She sat back in her chair and shook her head. “No, I didn’t lie,” she acknowledged. “But I wasn’t careful with his feelings.”
“Come on, Mary,” he coaxed. “Tell me what’s really wrong?”
She picked out another cookie, toyed with it for a few moments and finally nibbled on the edge. “I wanted him to go away,” she confessed softly.
Mike lifted an eyebrow. “Say what?”
“I wanted him to go away,” she repeated, not meeting his eyes. “I just wanted to be able to get up, go to the bathroom and go back to bed without someone hanging around telling me about their problems.”
“Damn Mary, you really aren’t perfect,” he said.
She slammed the cookie onto the table, breaking it into a dozen smaller pieces. “Well, thanks,” she snapped. “I guess not everyone can be an angel.”
When Mike chuckled, she reached for an unopened bag of cookies to whip it at his head.
“You know the cookies will fly right through me,” Mike said calmly before she could send them in his direction.
She paused, looked at the cookies in her hand, sighed and put them back on the table. “You’re right,” she muttered, reaching for another cookie. “Why are you always right?”
“Yeah, you don’t want me to answer that,” he said. “It will just make you angrier. Besides, I was just teasing you. You know I think you’re absolutely perfect, and cute too.”
His flattery did nothing to improve her mood. This time she placed her chin in her hands and sighed again. “I’m such a terrible person,” she whimpered. “I mean, he’s dead and he’s stuck somewhere, and all I can think about is going to the bathroom. What does that make me?”
“A totally exhausted, pregnant woman who needs a good night’s sleep,” Mike said. Then reaching over, he placed his hand on her shoulder. “And a woman who is trying to be brave even when her heart is breaking over a little girl who was abused and murdered.”
A tear slipped down Mary’s cheek. “It was like Clarissa was standing in front of me,” she whispered. “If we hadn’t found Clarissa, it could have been her.”
“But it wasn’t Clarissa,” he reminded her. “And there is nothing you can do to change that little girl’s life. But you can help her by finding out what’s keeping here her and then helping her move on. That’s your job, not fixing all the ills of the world.”
Folding her arms, she laid her head on the table. “I know,” she said. “But this time, I wish there was some way to change things.”
“Mary, once you help her cross over, you have changed things,” he reminded her. “She gets to go home and be surrounded with love.”
She nodded slowly and yawned. “You’re right.”
“And, I think it’s time we change the rules again,” he said.
Lifting her head, she looked up at him. “Change the rules?”
“Yeah, I think we need to keep your bedroom off limits for a little while,” he said. “At least until after the baby is born. You need more sleep.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement. “You think we could change that?”
He smiled at her. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we can make that change,” he said. “So, why don’t you go to bed, and I’ll get things arranged.”
Pushing herself up from her chair, she looked down at him. “Thank you,” she said. “You are the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“I feel the same way about you,” he replied. “Now go to bed and let Uncle Mike take care of things here.”
Chapter Eight
When Mary and Clarissa walked down the street the next morning, they were surprised to find the entire Brennan family standing out on their front porch waiting for them. Mary was so grateful that Katie had agreed to let Clarissa spend most of her summer vacation days with the Brennan family while she and Bradley worked. Maggie and Clarissa had been inseparable most days, and they had split sleepovers between the two houses.
“Hi,” Mary called. “What’s up?”
“So?” Katie asked.
“So?” Mary repeated, confused.
“I thought your ultrasound was yesterday,” Katie replied.
“Yeah, when you get to find out if you’re going
to have a cool boy baby or a lame girl baby,” Andy added.
“Andrew Brennan,” Katie reprimanded. “There are no lame babies, boy or girl. They are all a gift from God.”
“Yes, Mom,” he replied, but then he turned to Mary. “But a boy baby would be awesome.”
“Well, the ultrasound is actually this morning,” she said, placing her hand on the small mound at her abdomen. “So, if the baby cooperates, we will know who’s in there.”
“Then we have the party, right?” Maggie asked.
Mary nodded. “Yes, dinner and cupcakes at our house Friday night,” she said. “And then we’ll make the announcement.”
“Wow, Clarissa,” Andy said. “You’re going to find out if you’re going to be a big brother or a big sister.”
David, Andy’s older brother, cuffed him on the top of his head. “You dork,” he laughed. “She’s going to be a big sister no matter what.”
“David Brennan,” Katie said with a long-suffering sigh. “You don’t hit your brother.”
“Yes, ma’am,” David replied, and although the tone of his voice was chastened, the twinkle in his eye demonstrated a wholly unrepentant attitude.
Katie gave David the “mom” look, letting him know that she wasn’t fooled before she turned to Mary. “What can I bring?” she asked.
Shaking her head, Mary smiled at her. “Nothing at all,” she said. “It’s taken care of. Bradley is going to man the grill, and Rosie insisted on making everything else.”
“Well, that was sweet of her,” Katie said.
Mary nodded. “Yes, it was. And she couldn’t stand having to wait to find out who the baby is going to be,” she added with a laugh. “So, right after we call my parents, we call Rosie so she can fill the cupcakes with the right color filling.”
“Ah, clever lady,” Katie said. “And I’ve tasted Rosie’s cooking, so you’re pretty clever yourself.”
“No matter what, I win,” Mary agreed. “So, I’ll be back here to pick up Clarissa at about 3:00 this afternoon. Does that work?”
“Perfect,” Katie said. “And if she needs to stay later, just let me know. She is absolutely no trouble.”
“Thanks,” Mary replied. Then she turned and gave Clarissa a hug. “Have a great day, sweetheart.”
Clarissa hugged her back. “You, too,” she said. “I can’t wait to find out.”
“Me, too,” Mary said.
Walking back to her house, Mary could still hear the discussion about babies and parties coming from the Brennan porch. Andy and David were arguing, and Maggie and Clarissa were guessing what sex the baby would be. Katie stood in the midst and ushered them all inside before “they woke the entire neighborhood and the dead.” Mary smiled widely. Katie Brennan was amazing.
Bradley met her at the front door, and she tiptoed to press a kiss on his lips. “Ready?” she asked.
He nodded, but the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I’m good. Let’s go.”
She put her hand on his chest and stopped him as he tried to exit the house. “What’s wrong?” she asked again.
Exhaling slowly, he closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m nervous, that’s all,” he said.
“Nervous?” she asked. “About an ultrasound?”
He chuckled nervously. “Yeah, pretty silly, right?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and met his eyes. “I’m not Jeannine,” she said. “Nothing is going to happen to me or our baby.”
His jaw tensed for a moment, and he looked away from her but not before she saw the pain in his eyes. “I keep remembering,” he whispered, “how happy we were, how carefree we were. We had no idea that something would change our lives the very next day.”
“And you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Mary said.
He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
“Well, let me tell you something, Bradley Alden,” she said, her voice confident and strong. “This little baby is already a miracle child. So don’t you think for a moment that I would let anyone endanger either of us.”
He pulled her into his arms and just held her for a moment, not saying a word. “I can’t lose you,” he finally said.
She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his chest. “You won’t,” she said. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
“Forever sounds good,” he said, kissing her on the top of the head.
“Yeah, well just remember that if the doctor tells us we’re having triplets,” she replied.
He stepped back, his eyes wide, and his jaw dropped. “There’s a chance of that?” he stammered.
She grinned. “Probably not,” she said. “But it sure got your mind off other things, didn’t it?”
Chapter Nine
Mary hung up the phone, sat back in the chair next to her desk and smiled. She was going to make her mom and dad grandparents again, and it seemed they were even more excited than she and Bradley. When she told them the results of the ultrasound, her mother declared that she could finally start shopping for the baby, and she could hear the tears in her father’s voice. She felt her own eyes moisten with tears as she pictured her rugged dad with reddened eyes.
“Another O’Reilly born into the world,” he had whispered.
“Timothy O’Reilly,” her mother had replied. “The baby will be an Alden, not an O’Reilly.”
“Aye, Alden will be the last name,” he had countered. “But O’Reilly blood will out. The babe will be an O’Reilly through and through.”
Wiping a stray tear away, she took a deep breath and reached for her mouse. But before she could even right click, her office door sprung open, and Rosie and Stanley hurried inside.
“Well?” Stanley said. “You can’t keep us waiting any longer. Some of us is older than others. What’cha gonna have?”
Mary shook her head. “But Stanley, it’s a secret until Friday,” Mary said, holding back a grin. “I promised Bradley that I would only tell my parents and Rosie. Everyone else has to wait until Friday.”
“I ain’t everyone else,” Stanley grumbled. “Well, I’m practically your father.”
Rosie giggled. “I’m sure Mary’s mother would be surprised by that remark,” she said.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “But I’ve been here through her ups and downs. Why, I even let her borrow my car, and believe you me, that’s not something I do lightly.”
“But Stanley, I made a promise,” Mary said. “And, being the kind of person you are, you wouldn’t want me going against my promise, would you?”
“Bah, it ain’t breaking a promise iffen you don’t say it out loud,” he said. “You could just write it down and hand it to Rosie and iffen I happen to see it, well, that’s out of your control.”
“You don’t think that would be lying, do you?” she asked with a smile.
“I’m just saying, you wouldn’t be telling me,” he replied. “I’d be finding out on my own. Kind of like an act of God.”
“I don’t think God has any part of this,” Rosie said. “Now Stanley, leave Mary alone.”
Mary grinned and picked up a folded piece of paper from her desk. She handed it to Rosie and winked at Stanley. “Unfortunately Rosie, Stanley has been a bad influence on me,” she said. “I thought of the same thing before you even walked through the door.”
“Oh. Oh. Oh,” Rosie squealed as she unwrapped the note. “Oh, it’s a—”
“Shhhh!” Mary said, stopping Rosie before she uttered the last word. “We don’t want to have to tell Bradley that you told Stanley.”
Stanley scooted behind Rosie’s shoulder and read what was printed on the note and nodded at Mary, his eyes warm with happiness. “Well, congratulations to the two of you,” he said. “I couldn’t be prouder iffen you were my own daughter.”
Mary got up, walked around her desk and gave Stanley a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,
Stanley,” she said.
Then she turned and hugged Rosie. “And thank you for helping with the party.”
Rosie’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Oh, Mary, I’m just so happy for you,” she said. “Are you going to tell Clarissa tonight?”
“We asked Clarissa if she wanted to know tonight or if she wanted to wait until Friday,” Mary explained. “And she actually chose waiting until Friday.”
“She did?” Rosie exclaimed. “Why would she do that?”
“Well, she knew that it would be too hard to keep the secret between now and then,” Mary said with a smile. “And she didn’t want to be the one to spill the beans.”
“Smart girl,” Stanley said. “Besides, it will be more fun when everyone finds out at the same time.”
Rosie lifted an eyebrow in his direction. “Oh really?” she asked.
With an embarrassed chuckle, he shrugged. “Well, fun for everyone but me.”
Rosie turned back to Mary and shook her head. “He’s incorrigible.”
Mary laughed. “That’s okay,” she said. “We like him just the way he is.”
“Good thing for him,” Rosie added. Then she pulled a list from her purse. “So, how many people should I plan for?”
“Well, my parents will be there, all three of my brothers, the entire Brennan family,” Mary listed. “And when Ian heard you’d be cooking, he insisted on coming with Gillian.”
Rosie blushed slightly. “Isn’t that sweet of him.”
“Bradley is going to call Jeannine’s parents and see if they would like to come,” Mary continued.
“That’s awfully nice of him,” Stanley said.
“Well, they’re Clarissa’s grandparents,” Mary said. “So, we think they should be part of the new baby’s life, too, if they want to be.”
Rosie looked over her shoulder and then lowered her voice. “I’ve never asked. And really, it’s none of my business,” she began.
“But that ain’t never stopped her before,” Stanley inserted.
She frowned at Stanley for a moment and then turned back to Mary. “Where are Bradley’s parents?” she asked. “He never talks about them.”