Shannon's Daughter

by Karen Welch

  “Sorry. It was complicated. Can we please discuss this later? I need to talk to Peg.”

  “You need to rest, so I’ll table my questions for now. Are you sure you feel up to talking to Peg?”

  “Yes. What time is it?”

  “Two in the afternoon.”

  “She should be at home. She knows?” He watched as Reggie picked up the phone and put through the call.

  “Oh yes. We’ve talked several times. She wants to fly over.”

  “How much have you told her?”

  “About you? Everything. Not the bit about the wife, but everything about your current condition.”

  “She already knows the other. But thanks.”

  Reggie was apparently listening to the ringing on the other end, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Peg? There’s a chap here who insists he needs to talk to you.”

  His hand wasn’t quite steady enough to hold the receiver to his ear, so Reggie did the job for him. “Hello, brat. Sorry I missed your party.” All he heard was a choked sob. “Darling, please don’t. I’m fine. Or I will be. Didn’t Reggie tell you he got me all patched up?”

  “He said you almost died!”

  “He exaggerates.”

  “Kendall, I want to see you. I can get a flight tomorrow night.”

  “That’s not necessary, sweetheart. You’ll be coming in a few weeks. By then, I’ll be much better company.” He looked to Reggie for confirmation.

  “You’re sure? You know I’m willing.”

  “I’m sure. No need to disrupt your schedule. Bad enough I missed our engagement party. Are you going ahead with the newspaper announcement?” His energy, the little he could muster, was ebbing and he had an overwhelming urge to close his eyes.

  “I thought we should wait. Until you’re well, I mean. There’s no hurry, is there?”

  “No. You’re right. Plenty of time.” He rallied long enough to add, “Feeling a bit woozy, darling. Call me later?”

  “Of course I will. Every day. Now let me talk to Reggie again please.”

  Listening to Reggie’s cautious reassurance, he realized he was relieved Peg had agreed not to rush to his side. Better that she not see him like this. At the moment, he was weak as a day-old kitten and preparing to beg for opiates as soon as Reggie rang off. He took small comfort from the thought that this disaster had taken place here, in relative privacy, rather than in New York in front of a hundred of Michael’s friends as their engagement was being announced. At least there hadn’t been photographers on hand at Reggie’s.

  “She’s not convinced I’m taking proper care of you, I’m afraid.” Reggie put a finger on his pulse in an annoyingly professional manner. “How’s the pain?”

  “Already told you, awful.”

  “I’ll see what we can do about that. Meanwhile, your mother’s been waiting for hours. Feel up to letting her see that you’re really alive?”

  “Might as well. But not for long, please? You know how she is.”

  “Five minutes?”

  “Thanks.” He was already to the door when Kendall held out his hand. “And thanks for keeping my secret?”

  “Right. What are friends for?”

  Chapter Forty-nine

  The advantages to the private room—courtesy of his stepfather—were the peace and quiet, and of course, the privacy. The disadvantages were much the same. Kendall sometimes wished for the hustle and bustle of nurses and doctors, the company of disembodied voices beyond curtained enclosures he might have enjoyed on the surgical ward. At least they would distract him from his thoughts, which were his primary companions during his slow recovery. He actually came to welcome his mother’s daily visits. At least her incessant chatter about his allegedly “delicate system” and how as a child he’d reacted to any sort of strain with a “tummy ache” broke up the hours of soul-searching. As far as he could recall, he’d rarely had a sick day in his life, but he knew arguing with her would certainly make his stomach hurt now.

  Reggie, who seemed to have more time than the average physician should to sit around and chat, provided the only other major diversion. His old friend was touchingly concerned, not only with his progress, but with his state of mind. Kendall had never considered Reggie insightful in the least until now. Suddenly, he seemed to be reading between the lines and ascertaining far more than Kendall would willingly have divulged.

  Granted, there was a lot to think about. There had been for more than a year now. But all of those issues, the job change, the relocation, marriage, had now been cast in a different light. Not so much by his illness, he tried to explain to Reggie, as by something as subtle as the tone of Peg’s voice.

  “Maybe I read more into it than was there, but I could swear she was relieved.”

  “That you were going to live after all? Well I should hope so.”

  “No, when I said it wasn’t necessary for her to fly over here right away. And she said she wasn’t going to put the announcement of our engagement in the papers, that there wasn’t any hurry now.”

  “Probably just trying to take the pressure off you.”

  He debated voicing his real fear. “I’m not so sure. I don’t think Peg really wants to get married.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s been mad for you for years. You said yourself she was more than willing to have an affair when she found out you were married.”

  “I don’t doubt she loves me. It’s just that for all those years when she said she wasn’t keen on marriage, I believed she was trying to rationalize our situation. But now it occurs to me, she really doesn’t want to go through with this thing.”

  “Where does that leave you, if she backs out now?”

  He shook his head. “Feeling like an idiot. Once I was free, all I wanted to do was marry Peg, whatever it took. I was so sure I could make that happen. I was planning to leave everything here, my career, my home, everything, move to America and play Mr. Peg Shannon, completely ignoring what she’s been saying all along. I’ve made myself ill, for God’s sake, flying back and forth between my life and hers, and it may have all been for nothing.”

  “Want my advice, for what it’s worth?”

  “Why not? I haven’t come up with anything on my own.”

  “If you love her, ask her. If you can’t be honest with one another before you’re married, believe me, you won’t be happy after.”

  “But what if I’m right? Then what?”

  “That would depend on what you’re willing to settle for. Only you know that, Kenny.”

  The answer to that question would depend on his having that honest talk with Peg. By the time she arrived in early April, he was out of hospital and temporarily occupying a guest suite in his mother’s home. Still weak, and on a diet fit for a convalescing cat, he was none the less determined to convince Peg this had been a minor setback, nothing more. Her arrival, complete with tearful breakdown and a call to Reggie accusing him of lying to her derailed that possibility in the first hour.

  “I should have been here. Oh, Kendall, you look awful!”

  “Thank you, brat. I even cleaned myself up just for you. Normally you’d find me with three-days-worth of stubble and lounging in rumpled pajamas.” He managed to take her in his arms and kiss her with conviction before she led him to the narrow loveseat and started fussing over him.

  “You’re so pale!” She touched his face, moving down to examine his shoulder. “And thin! You must have lost fifteen pounds.”

  “Twenty. But I’m on the gain now. I’ll be fine. I just need a little more time.” Convincing her to cuddle against him, he rested his cheek on her hair. “Now that you’re here, I’m sure to recover twice as fast. I’ve missed you, you know.”

  “I’ve missed you too. I worked as hard as I could to clear my schedule so I could get here sooner. Spring is always a busy time.”

  “I know, love.” Content to rest, inhaling her scent and enjoying her hand gently stroking his chest, he decided perhaps he had blown things out of pr
oportion. Barely escaping sudden death might have affected his brain, after all.

  They settled into a routine the best they could under Eloise’s watchful eye. Peg had wisely opted to stay at Brown’s, but she was on hand from morning ‘til night, often bringing folders of correspondence and working quietly while Kendall rested. If they never once discussed their plans, avoiding any mention of jobs or weddings, he told himself to be patient. The right moment would come, all would be resolved and things would begin to move forward again. Peg planned to stay for three weeks. There was no hurry. His lethargy, which Reggie said was normal, seemed to give him permission to avoid anything unpleasant, and the level of careful politeness between them made him think confronting their future might be just that.

  On the day of his scheduled visit to Reggie’s office, he told Peg he’d call at Brown’s when he was done. Maybe in a more familiar setting, away from his mother’s hovering shadow, Peg would be more herself. He wasn’t sure how the subject might come up, but it was more likely to do so without the threat of interruption. He wasn’t even sure he wanted it to come up, but time was running out, and he was sure he wanted things settled before Peg went back to New York. In all the time he’d had to think, the single clearest conclusion he’d reached was that they could not, and he would not, go on the way they had been for the past two years. Life was too short and too precious to spend racing from one existence to another. He’d realized his needs were simple. He wanted a home, a family, and a job which gave him satisfaction, all in the same place, and he wanted to share those things with Peg. All that was needed now was her answer to one simple question.

  Seeing her at Brown’s brought back so many memories. When she met him at the door, her smile seemed to hold all the old promises. She ordered lunch, curled up next to him on the couch and demanded to know what Reggie had to say about him.

  “He’s satisfied. Says I can eat a slightly more adult diet and get a bit more exercise. Cleared me to go back to work a few hours a day.”

  “That’s wonderful! You look so much more like yourself than you did even a week ago. But promise you’ll take it easy.”

  “I promise. But I need to get moving again. I’ve lost a lot of time.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “If we’re going to stay on target for a fall wedding, there’s no time to waste.” She stiffened, almost imperceptibly. It was a cue, a downbeat, his opening. “I need to ask you something, brat, and I want an honest answer.”

  Avoiding his gaze, she asked flatly, “What?”

  “You’re not going to marry me, are you?”

  She opened her mouth to argue, stammered something about how he should know she loved him, but he cut her off. “Answer the question, Peg. Please.”

  Still not quite looking him in the eye, she shook her head sadly. “No. I don’t think I can.”

  “You’re absolutely certain of that?”

  “Yes. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let things go this far.” Finally, her eyes met his, full of apology and uncertainty.

  “It’s my fault, really. I should have listened to you. I was so sure I could change your mind.”

  “You almost did. But the closer we got, the more terrified I was of failing. We’re much better off going on the way we have been, don’t you think?”

  It took a moment of soul-searching before he could answer. “No, I don’t. It’s tempting, I admit. But we’d just be prolonging the inevitable. I want more. I want it with you, but if that’s never going to be possible, I won’t settle for a transatlantic affair as a substitute.” He was surprised at how in control he sounded. In fact, he felt some relief at stating his position.

  “Are you saying we’re done? If I won’t marry you, you don’t want me anymore?” She didn’t sound angry, or even particularly hurt, just as though she needed clarification.

  “Oh, I want you. Losing you will be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to live through, I’m sure. But I’ll lose you in the end, because affairs don’t come with ivy-covered cottages and happily ever afters, do they?”

  There was nothing dramatic about their parting. The room service waiter arrived. Kendall rose and dropped a kiss on her lips, refraining from holding her for more than an instant. If there were tears in her eyes, he couldn’t see them through the blur of his own.

  “I’m sure we’ll see each other around. Family and the like.”

  She nodded. He went through the door and didn’t stop walking until he reached his flat. A man needed a little privacy while he gathered up the pieces of his heart and tried to remember how they fit together after so many years in the hands of a woman like Peg Shannon.

  Chapter Fifty

  He heard the next day that Peg had decided to pay Agnes a visit in Dublin before flying home. Gradually word circulated through the family that Peg had asked for a “breather.” Sympathy seemed to flow in Kendall’s direction, but then it would have. As ironic as it might seem, he was closer to the bosom of the Shannon clan than Peg had ever been.

  Once the press got wind of their breakup, there were some less than subtle inquiries, which he chose to ignore. If Peg wanted to make a public statement on their relationship, she was welcome to do so. He was busy reassembling his life.

  Having put the Philharmonic on notice, he decided to go ahead with his resignation. He was ready for something different, although he had nothing specific in mind. Within the year, Patrick approached him, asking to pick his brain regarding a fledgling chamber orchestra he’d been approached to help fund, based in none other than Carlow Town. Mildly intrigued by what sort of talent could be assembled if he lent his name to the organization, Kendall agreed to a two-year contract as music director. If part of the appeal had to do with bittersweet memories of the time he’d spent there years earlier, he dismissed it in favor of the artistic challenge.

  He would say in the future that it was the best half-hearted decision he ever made. The ensemble, thanks largely to its generous backers, primarily the Shannons, and the caliber of musicians willing to join him in what was at first promoted as a short-term experiment, achieved critical recognition in its first season and never looked back. For Kendall, the demands of the job and the camaraderie of the players proved just what he needed as a basis for his new life. If he occasionally envisioned that blue-eyed girl with the braids who’d greeted his first arrival, he found himself less and less afraid to look at the memory with honest affection.

  By the time they met again, in 1963 at Adelaide’s marriage to a distinguished London physician, Kendall felt he was ready to put a good face on things. They were, as Peg had so often pointed out, part of the same family. He’d been duly quizzed by Agnes and Maeve, who were touchingly concerned for his comfort, and assured them enough time had passed.

  “I’m sure we can manage to be in the same room without causing a scene, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Agnes had responded with a characteristic snort, while Maeve went on, “Of course you can, but I don’t want you to feel obliged to be nice to her. I love Peg, and she’s been very good to little Margaret, but what she did was still unforgivable.”

  “There was nothing to forgive, as far as I’m concerned. Things were never going to work out for us, and we had to face up to that. Have you asked Peg how she feels about seeing me? She deserves at least the same consideration.”

  Another snort from Agnes, this time on a more jovial pitch. “If I know Peg, she’ll ask you to dance and try to get you to take her home.”

  Things didn’t go quite that far, but they did talk briefly and without too much awkwardness. Peg was interested in his work in Ireland, and he in turn asked about hers in New York. Peg seemed happy, which he told himself he was glad to see. When she talked about her fundraising, her eyes sparkled and came alive with enthusiasm. They even danced together, at which point he realized that while he might have achieved emotional detachment his body was reacting in the usual way to Peg in his arms.

  “Agnes tried
to warn me, you know?” The almost unbearable familiarity of her scent coupled with her fingers caressing his shoulder caused him to throw caution to the wind.

  Peg looked up in confusion, “Warn you?”

  “She said you’d ask me to dance and then try to persuade me to take you home.”

  “If I recall, you asked me to dance. But if there’s any chance of the other, I’m willing to try.” Her breath near his cheek was warm and sweet, stirring up vivid sensory memories.

  “Don’t tempt me, brat. Most days I only think of you a dozen or so times. That’s a vast improvement over even a year ago.”

  “So one night for old times’ sake would be a mistake?”

  “Of disastrous proportions. I’m willing to go so far as a friendly drink, even a quiet chat, but alone in a room with you and I’d lose all the ground I’ve worked so hard to gain.”

  “Has it been that hard?”

  “Are you saying it hasn’t been for you? Surely you could give me the comfort of believing you’ve suffered a little, too.”

  “I’m still suffering. I miss you, Kendall. I miss what we had.”

  “But you don’t yearn for the chance to try again for something more permanent?”

  “No.” The music ended. The perfect opportunity, but he knew he wouldn’t take it.

  “Then we’re back to the friendly drink and the quiet chat. Or maybe we should just nod and say goodnight?” Still holding her hand, he led the way to her table, which was now conveniently deserted.

  “I’d settle for being friends, if that’s what you’re offering. I can pretend I don’t want more. I’ve gotten even better at pretending in the past three years.”

  They had the quiet chat, commiserating on the well-meant advice and the endless matchmaking efforts. He told her about the dinner parties he’d learn to avoid, knowing there would be yet another “potential” at the place next to his. She countered that she’d learned to include at least one member of the clergy at each of her gatherings, providing a priest or bishop to occupy the seat at her right. By the evening’s end, they were able to part on easier terms than he would have believed possible, several steps away from “former lovers” and closer to “old friends.”