We were good pen pals, probably should have kept it at that. But now that we’ve learned from our mistake, maybe we can move forward from here?
So if you want to write to me, I promise to write back. Tell me anything, everything. And I’ll do my best to help. You can use my old email address.
Take care and be well,
Neve
Hearing from her made him limp with relief. He staggered to a chair in what would someday soon be a fully functioning kitchen and plopped down. She didn’t hate him, no longer considered him to be dead to her. Thank you, God.
“You okay?” Dad asked, worried. “Niall, go get your mother.”
“I’m fine.” But Niall had already gone.
Dad walked toward him. “Bad news?”
Rory felt himself smiling. “No.” He looked up. “Good news, actually.” He handed his dad the letter.
“Neve.” Dad pronounced it like Kev.
“It’s ‘Neve,’ rhymes with ‘leave.’ ” He smiled again, remembering Neve’s introductory letter.
His mom hurried into the apartment, then stopped short. “Is that a smile I see on my oldest son’s face?” Tears filled her eyes, and she headed straight for him. Rory stood so she could wrap her arms around him. “I love your beautiful smile, I miss seeing it. I’ve been so worried.”
“I’m sorry I made you worry.” Rory hugged her back.
She looked between her husband and Niall. “Who or what is responsible for this sudden but very welcome change in my son?”
Dad handed her Neve’s letter.
Mom stiffened.
“Don’t you dare start,” Rory told her, ready to give her a good fight if she wanted one.
“Of course she’s not going to start.” Dad put his arm around her shoulders. “All we’re doing is having a nice conversation about your girl.”
“She’s not my girl.” He stared at his mother. “But I’m holding out hope that someday she will be. And if she’s not welcome here, then I’ll go to wherever she is.” If and when she’d have him.
Mom’s eyes flared. Children from this neighborhood didn’t move far from the nest. They stuck around, sometimes moving a couple of streets over. Sometimes multiple generations lived in the same building, which was what his mom and dad had planned for when they took over the second floor. Two apartments combined for the family, and four two-bedroom apartments, one for each son when he was ready to move out.
“Of course she’s welcome here,” Dad said.
“She’s got a temper,” Mom pointed out, totally serious, her voice filled with concern.
Dad turned to face her. “And you don’t?”
Mom pushed his shoulder. “I’m only trying to save him from having to deal with a woman like me for the rest of his life.”
Dad nuzzled her ear. “You didn’t hear me complaining this morning, now did you?”
With an “I’m out” Niall turned and left the room.
“Everyone out,” Rory said. He needed to find his laptop and charge it up so he could email Neve.
Mom walked over and kissed his cheek. “I only want you to be happy. Does she make you happy?”
Rory smiled. “When she’s not fighting with me she does.”
“Learning how to get control of them is half the fun,” Dad said with a wink that Mom didn’t see. Then he hurried out of the room too.
“Oh, you think you have control of me, do you?” Mom tore out after him.
A typical day in the life of a McRoy, and for the first time in a long time Rory realized that having a good job in a successful pub and being surrounded by people who loved him and cared about his happiness made for a pretty good life.
The one thing that would make that life even better? Having Neve in it full-time.
Subject: Thank you
Date: January 15, 2013
From: Rory McRoy
To: Neve Jaimes
Dear Neve,
Thank you for your letter. I’ve been thinking about you, a lot, and I hope you’re happy wherever you are. I badgered Brooke into telling me what happened with Cirque du Soleil. I’m so sorry things didn’t work out the way you’d planned, especially after you’d worked so hard.
I’m a complete and total ass and I can’t figure out how to put into words how sorry I am that I doubted you, even for a few seconds. I hate myself for letting you down, for not trusting you like I should have. If I’m ever lucky enough to see you again, I promise to do my best to make it up to you any way you’ll let me.
Yeah, I’ve been having a rough time since I last saw you. Losing you was hard enough, but the way everything played out…Anyway, as much as I miss you, and feel like shit a lot of days, I needed this time apart to get my head straight, to learn how to cope on my own, without being dependent on you.
I’m getting there. I like my therapist. She’s helped a lot. Although I’ve got to admit, your therapy was a lot more fun than my current treatment plan.
Now that you’ve reopened the lines of communication, I’m feeling better already. But where are you? What are you doing? How are you feeling?
Your friend always,
Rory
P.S.—We both made mistakes, but I don’t think us meeting in person was a mistake. I have many more good memories than bad.
Subject: I didn’t mind you being dependent on me
Date: January 16, 2013
From: Neve Jaimes
To: Rory McRoy
Dear Rory,
Apology accepted. This time apart has been good for me too. I realize that trust has to be earned. I’ve gone over that day in my mind dozens of times, how my note easily could have been misconstrued, how I could have handled things differently. I’m sorry for not being honest with you about the chocolates and why I was trying to rush you off. I did it because I didn’t want you involved in any way with Adam. He’s dangerous and I didn’t want to risk you getting hurt. I thought I could handle him on my own. I was wrong. And now that we’ve each apologized, there is no need for us to ever mention that night again.
How am I? I’m feeling well. But I’m bored here to the point I spent last Saturday night with a group of women at church, knitting blankets for the homeless. It’s a looooooong story. Suffice it to say I was assured that warmth and function mattered more than looks, which is a good thing since no matter how hard I try, I suck at knitting.
Anyway, I’m working at a nice, respectable job—fully clothed. I’m making nice, respectable friends. I’m doing nice, respectable things.
And I am bored out of my mind.
I hope each day you’re feeling a little bit better,
Take care and be well,
Neve
Subject: You wouldn’t be bored in Boston
Date: January 16, 2013
From: Rory McRoy
To: Neve Jaimes
Dear Neve,
Something to think about: You wouldn’t be bored in Boston. There is so much to do here, preferably with me, but without me too if you’d prefer. Please check out the links below to see some of the fun stuff Boston has to offer.
Missing you,
Rory
Things to do in Boston: http://www.bostonusa.com/
You have got to try this clam chowdah: http://www.legalseafoods.com/restaurants
Let me take you to a game: http://boston.redsox.mlb.com/bos/ballpark/
Great food and shopping: http://www.faneuilhallmarketplace.com/
The beach: http://www.capecodchamber.org/ (About an hour and a half away. I promise I won’t let you get bored. And you’ll love Provincetown—close by.)
For outdoor concerts and events: http://www.celebrateboston.com/hatch-shell.htm
And although I’ve never been, there’s also the Boston Ballet and Boston Pops Symphony Orchestra and Broadway in Boston and so many other things….
Subject: Sorry I didn’t respond right away
Date: January 19, 2013
From: Neve Jaimes
To: Rory McRoy
Dear Rory,
Thank you for the links. But before I’d ever relocate to Boston there’s something very important I’d have to do first. It’d be a big step and I’m not ready to take it. I’m having some trouble with the new me, deciding what I want and where I belong. I need time.
While we’re waiting for me to figure myself out, I’m hoping we can write each other, like we used to. Maybe talk on the phone, if you want. Let me know.
Missing you too,
Neve
Chapter 21
By mid-February, Neve had realized that her first attempt at a new, respectable life was a miserable failure. But her strong sense of responsibility made her stick around through the end of March until the teacher she was covering for was medically cleared to return to work. Boredom could be blamed for the miserable part. Talking, emailing, and texting with Rory pretty much day and night for the past eight weeks—and her new erotic romance addiction—could be blamed for the failure part. She needed excitement, needed fun, needed sex! And to find all three in one convenient location, with a man she cared about, a lot, and quite possibly had fallen in love with, a man who made her happy, who understood her and accepted her and her past, she needed Rory.
Time for New Life, Take Two, a modified version, with less emphasis on the respectability aspect—at least when no one else was around to see.
Neve looked around the lobby of the restaurant, taking off her jacket so her lunch date would be able to pick her out of the crowd based on the purple color of her dress, a somewhat plain wrap dress that accented her fuller figure without being trashy. Meanwhile, she scanned the mostly female diners for a woman in a red sweater.
She wiped a clammy hand on her jacket, feeling the nervous jitters that usually only appeared prior to a performance or competition. This next hour would determine if New Life, Take Two would take place in South Boston or if she’d have to start all over someplace new.
“Neve?”
She’d pronounced it correctly. A good sign…maybe. “Yes.” Neve turned to greet her lunch date, Rory’s mother, with her biggest smile. Until she recognized her as the waitress who’d been working at the McRoy pub the night Neve had visited. The same waitress who’d hurried back to the storeroom, alerted by Mary’s screams, which meant Rory’s mother had been there that night, hadn’t just heard about it but had witnessed the aftermath firsthand. And Neve’s smile died an instant death.
For a brief few seconds she considered simply walking out the door, getting back into her car, and driving until she either stumbled upon a new place that felt right or ran out of gas, whichever came first. But no, she inhaled deeply, willing her heart rate to slow, standing tall—well, as tall as she could within her height restriction. Neve would not run again. Today she would fight for the new future she wanted, for Rory.
Rory’s mom stood about half a head taller than Neve, her dark hair loose and nicely styled. She wore nice black slacks and a bright red sweater set accented with a pretty silver necklace. “Hi, Mrs. McRoy.” She held out her hand. “Thank you for coming.”
The other woman looked down at Neve’s hand without reaching to shake it.
Neve held it there, waiting, fighting the urge to yank it back.
“Call me Darcy. And a handshake isn’t good enough for the girl who brought me back my Rory.” Darcy leaned in for a hug. “He came back to life the day he received your letter. Now that you’re in regular contact he’s smiling more and even laughing. Thank you, honey.”
Maybe staying in Boston would work out after all! Neve returned the hug. “You’re welcome.” But Rory wasn’t the only one who’d come back to life as a result of that letter. He’d brought Neve back to life too.
The hostess walked over. “Your table is ready, ladies.”
“This restaurant is lovely.” Lovely. A Brooke word, but it fit the dainty white lace table coverings, small but pretty floral centerpieces, and feminine dishware.
“You wanted a place where no one from my family would see you.” Darcy, in front, following directly behind the hostess as they maneuvered through the tables, turned to look over her shoulder. “I can assure you, none of my boys would be caught dead in this restaurant.” She smiled. Neve saw Rory in that smile.
They were seated in a far corner, quieter, perfect for a nice conversation…or threats to warn off the shameless hussy trying to move in on your son, without anyone overhearing. Which one had Darcy planned for when she’d made the reservation?
“How far are we from the pub?” Neve asked.
“About forty minutes.”
“I’m sorry to make you drive so far.”
“Feels good to get dressed up and leave the neighborhood for a change.” Darcy placed her napkin on her lap. “I have to admit, I’m intrigued by your request to meet with me in private.”
Got right to the point, didn’t she? Neve swallowed, reaching for her water glass, wishing it was filled with vodka. “You have a wonderful son, Mrs. McRoy.”
“I told you to call me Darcy.”
Right. She did. But every time Neve had rehearsed this speech she’d used “Mrs. McRoy.”
“Sorry. Darcy.”
Neve put her napkin on her lap too, mainly to have something to do with her hands. “Rory is a great guy. I have met lots of not-so-nice and downright not-nice guys in my life, and I know a great guy when I come across one. So, uh, good job with the parenting.”
With a set of raised eyebrows, Darcy gave a hint of an amused smile. “Thank you.”
“Good job with the parenting”? Where the hell had that come from? Now is not the time to ad-lib. Neve cleared her throat. “Rory and I have made a lot of mistakes. But we’ve been talking. We understand what went wrong, and we both want to try again. He’s invited me to come live with him in Boston.”
As she had in rehearsals, she waited for the yelling, the threats and condemnation.
Darcy said nothing. That was surprising. Rory had said his mother was a fighter, so Neve had come prepared to fight.
Maybe she’d changed tactics for the day. Neve glanced down to make sure Darcy hadn’t discreetly removed a sharp utensil from the table in preparation for an under-the-table sneak attack aimed at severing Neve’s femoral artery.
All utensils and both hands present and accounted for. Whew.
So Neve went on. “For the longest time I thought scoring an audition with Cirque du Soleil was my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Did Rory tell you about that? That I’m a dancer? Well, not anymore, but I was. Not a stripper kind of dancer.” God help her. The words kept tumbling out. “Adagio. An acro-balance dancer. And a gymnast.”
Darcy sat there, quietly, not talking, not doing anything to help ease Neve’s nerves. So she went right on talking. “Anyway, now I think it wasn’t the Cirque du Soleil audition that was my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, it’s Rory. I want to accept his invitation. I want us to live together, to give our relationship a real chance, to see if we can make a future together.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
Not at all the response Neve had expected. In fact, this entire encounter wasn’t turning out at all like Neve had expected. “I won’t move in without your approval. I know I’m not your first choice for Rory, but I refuse to be the girlfriend you dislike and look down on because you think I’m not good enough for your son. I will not put myself between you and Rory either. I don’t want us fighting or you and Rory fighting because of me. So if you have something to say, if you are not okay with me moving in with Rory, with the two of us, who are not married, living together in an apartment right down the hall from you, today’s the day to tell me.”
“That’s it, then?” Darcy placed her forearms on the table, clasped her fingers together, and leaned forward in challenge. “I tell you to leave and you’ll get up, walk out of here, and I’ll never see you again? You’d give up that easily?”
Nope. Neve shook her head. “I fight for what I want. And I want Rory.” She placed her fore
arms on the table, clasped her fingers together, and leaned forward, same as Darcy. Challenge accepted. “But if we can’t come to terms, if you’re too stubborn and narrow-minded to see how good I am for your son, then I’m out of here.” She stared directly into Darcy’s eyes. “And the next time Rory offers to come live with me, wherever I happen to be, I won’t tell him no.”
“Well played.” Darcy sat back, nodding her approval. “I like that. Rory needs someone willing to fight for him. Marriage isn’t easy.”
“Whoa.” Neve sat back too. “No one said anything about marriage.” Although she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about it…often.
“Do you love him?”
Neve nodded, because she did. So much.
“Will you make him happy?”
Lying to her potential future mother-in-law didn’t sit well, so she told the truth she feared. “I’ll probably make him miserable.”
Darcy smiled. “And when you’re not making him miserable?”
“I’ll do my very best to make him happy.”
“Good.” Darcy narrowed her eyes. “No more sex in the storeroom?”
Don’t lie. Don’t lie. “No promises.” Because she had just as hard a time saying no to Rory as he had saying no to her. “But …” Neve held up her index finger, “I’ll be much more careful about locking the door so we don’t get caught.”
“We all have a key,” Darcy pointed out.
Hadn’t considered that. “Right.” Neve nodded. “I’ll have to give that one some more thought, then.”
“No more jabs to the throat or kicks to the groin?”
Oy. Again, Neve had to say, “No promises. But I will try my absolute best to control my temper. It’s just, Rory can rile me up and into a rage faster than anyone else I know, except maybe my brother.”
“Tell me about it, same with my husband. Absolutely clueless about what makes a woman angry.”
“I know, right?”
“You’ll accompany us to mass every Sunday?”
Finally, a yes! “Yes. I’ve actually started going to church again recently, and I find I enjoy it much more now than I did when I was young.”
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