by Robyn Carr
Aiden whooped with laughter.
“Yeah, you laugh. I’ll turn her loose on you.”
“I’d love that,” Aiden said. “When can I meet her?”
“Gimme some time, Aiden. I’m way behind the power curve here. I don’t know anything about kids, and there is so much to know. You have no idea.”
“She’s just a kid, Sean. Don’t overthink it. Enjoy her.”
“Did you know that when a little kid poops, you have to check their little butt to make sure they wiped it clean? Did you know that?”
Aiden chuckled. “Yes, Sean, I knew that.”
“Where the hell do you learn something like that?”
“I dated a woman with a couple of little kids. Haven’t you? Ever dated a single young mother?”
Sean was quiet for a moment. “Not really.”
“How can you not really date a young mother?”
“I’ve gone out with women with kids before, yeah. But I’ve never been around the kids. I have friends with kids, but I never paid attention to that stuff. I’m in way over my head.”
“Franci will help you with all that. How is Franci?”
“Cautious. I told her I thought we should get married and she told me to slow down—she wants to be sure it’s the right move.”
“Bullshit. She wants to be sure you’re in love with her. That you can be a lover and a family man. Don’t you know anything about women?”
“Not as much as I thought I did,” Sean admitted.
“My little brother the playboy,” Aiden said. “Time to take life a little more seriously, huh? I want to meet her. Rosie. Let me know the minute I can. And I’d love to see Franci again.”
“You know, just because Rosie took me in stride doesn’t mean the entire Riordan clan won’t be a little overwhelming for her,” Sean said. “Let’s not throw her in the deep end of the pool, huh?”
“Red hair and green eyes, I hear,” Aiden said. “Like Mom and Paddy and half our cousins. That must have been a shock.”
“The second I saw her, I knew. Plus, it couldn’t be anyone else’s kid—Franci and I were tight.” He paused. “Till we weren’t.”
“Well, lucky you—you get another chance. Call me after you talk to Mom. I can’t wait to hear how she likes this news.”
“About Mom…I’m going to tell her in person because she’s going to kill me and then she’s going to rush to California and throw herself on Rosie. I can’t let her do that, Aiden. What am I gonna do about Mom?”
“Reason with her,” Aiden said easily. “Just tell her she’ll meet Rosie very soon, but you have to introduce your very large, very excited, extended family one at a time after you work things out with Rosie’s mom. Be firm—she’ll be fine. Call me if you need me.”
“I’ll give you two thousand dollars to meet me in Phoenix and tell her for me.”
Aiden laughed. “Talk to you tomorrow, little brother. Good luck!”
Sean arrived in Phoenix before noon the next day. He rented a car and headed for his mother’s condo complex.
He remembered when she’d bought the place, almost ten years ago. They’d been born and raised in the Chicago suburbs, but after their father died twelve years ago, Maureen Riordan had had enough of harsh winters, especially when she had to face them alone. The boys were all devoted to her, but they were also all military and it wasn’t easy for them to be on call to help out their mom. The oldest was Luke, who back then had been in the army flying Blackhawks, and the baby of the family, Patrick, or Paddy as they called him, had just entered the naval academy. All of them had left home and visited their mother at the pleasure of Uncle Sam.
Maureen, as she was known to do, took matters into her own hands and found a condo in Phoenix. It was in a complex much like a resort—more the kind of place Sean might choose, and that had surprised him about his mom. There was a golf course, tennis courts, a community center, swimming pools and a hefty association fee. More importantly, there was no grass to cut or snow to shovel, and there were guaranteed friends. All she had to do was sign up for certain activities and she met people. Thus, Maureen had learned to play golf and tennis and had put her bridge-playing skills to the test.
On the outside, it probably seemed like the perfect life. A deeper look gave Sean the impression his mother was filling the days just to stay busy. He wondered if she had a true passion about any of the things she spent her time on.
The place had never seemed to fit her, in Sean’s mind. Their da, an electrician, had been a hard worker who’d earned a decent living, but they’d had five sons to raise. They had lived in a smallish three-bedroom house—three boys in one bedroom, two in another—on a tree-lined street on the outskirts of Chicago. The house had been forty years old the year Sean was born, and his parents had been mortgaged to their chins. When his father died, between insurance, retirement plans, Social Security and the sale of their home, Maureen was finally able to do whatever she pleased. So she moved her furniture into the small two-bedroom condo that had a Whirlpool tub in the master bath and, for the first time, a dishwasher, though she only had to run it once a week.
“I don’t know,” Sean had said. “It doesn’t feel like you.”
“It feels very low maintenance,” she had replied.
“You won’t have a vegetable garden.”
“I’ll buy my peas and tomatoes. Besides, I don’t necessarily have to stay here for life. I might find something I like better.”
“You might find a second husband.”
“Pah,” she scoffed. “It’s more likely one of you boys will find a wife and settle somewhere. And I might want to be nearby.”
“We’re all in the military! If we do find wives, we’ll be moving them around for twenty years!”
“Sean, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, you can count on things changing more than on them staying the same.”
In ten years, however, nothing had changed. And his mother’s traditional, homey furniture still looked awkward in the modern digs. Maureen had gone back to work a couple of times since moving here—twice for three years each—but at present she was retired. She had been a crackerjack administrative assistant and worked once for the police department and once for a brokerage firm. The boys all assumed boredom drove her to work and a need to relax drove her back home. If their dad hadn’t left her well-enough fixed, they’d been prepared to take care of her. Aiden, a navy doctor, was the one to watch over her most closely and he kept his brothers up to speed, when he wasn’t out to sea.
On the rare occasions that all five boys could visit at the same time, there were a couple of guest apartments at the complex that they could reserve—his mom’s place wasn’t large enough for big family gatherings. The kitchen seemed too small for a woman who loved to cook but, as she quickly pointed out, her cooking skills were not exactly in demand these days.
Sean parked in the guest parking space nearest her condo and called her from the car. When she answered, he said, “Hi, I caught you at home. I’m in your parking lot. Do you have time for some company?”
“Sean? What in the world…?”
“I grabbed a break from the honeymooners’ cottage. I’ll be right over.” He signed off, grabbed his duffel and headed for a building on the far side of the complex’s largest pool. He had to admit, his mother had found one of the best locations available. But then she’d bought it when the development was new and she had been one of the first tenants.
Maureen met him outside her patio door. She looked as if she was ready to go out. “Sweetheart,” she said, opening her arms.
“Oh, nuts, I interrupted your plans,” he said.
“Nothing important. I played tennis this morning with the women’s group and this afternoon I was supposed to go to a bridal shower of all things! For a woman in her sixties! Who has a bridal shower in their sixties? I’ll take my gift over there and we’ll go out to lunch—how’s that? I had no interest in going, anyway. They’re going to play games.” She m
ade a face. “That’s the best reason to be a man, Sean. No shower games.”
The shower games that came instantly to Sean’s mind had nothing whatever to do with hen parties and everything to do with Franci. He was going to be fired as a father within thirty days, he was sure. What he felt every time he thought of Franci was not paternal and had nothing to do with little Rose. He flushed in spite of himself.
“Are you all right, Sean?” his mother asked.
“Is it hot here?”
She laughed. “It’s cooling down, finally. Come on, come in.”
He threw his duffel just inside the door and she asked him if he’d like something to drink. Coke? Tea? “Any chance you have a cold beer on hand?” He was feeling a little weak, nervous and anxious to get the worst of this over with.
When they were seated in her living room, her with an iced tea and he with a cold beer, he asked her about tennis, about her bridge club, about her volunteer work.
She smiled at him. “I think you’ve just about exceeded your limit for small talk, Sean. And you’re fidgeting. Either you have to go to the bathroom or you have something to tell me.” She squinted at him. “Are you wearing makeup?”
He frowned, then thought back to the day before. “Oh. Sort of. Some kind of cover thing for my…rash. I guess I’m allergic to…must be pizza…”
“Pizza?” she asked, confused. “With your lifestyle? That would be tragic.”
“I don’t know what it was, but I broke out in a rash and it’s almost gone.” She had that pleased look on her face. She was expecting him to tell her something that would make her happy. He could only hope. “You remember Franci?” he asked. “That steady girl of mine a few years ago? Long, pretty hair?”
“Of course, though I think I saw her four whole times while you dated her. Five at the most. I liked Franci. And I thought you did, too.”
“I did, absolutely. I ran into her recently. I was out one night and, of all places, not far from Luke’s, she was out to dinner with friends. We’ve kind of resumed contact, you could say.”
“How nice for you. I never met many of your girlfriends, but of the few I think I liked her best. Nice young woman. Beautiful, too, if I remember.”
“Uh-huh. She cut off all that long hair,” he said, getting momentarily distracted. “She looks fantastic.” Maureen looked at him expectantly, and at that moment he really felt as if he was back in catechism, half expecting Sister Thekela to sneak up behind him and twist his ear for not paying attention.
He shook himself. “Listen, Mom, I never told you the whole reason we split up, me and Franci. I loved her and she loved me, but we weren’t in the same canoe. She wanted a commitment, a family, and I was running from marriage. I—”
“Good Lord,” Maureen interrupted him. “What did your father and I do to turn you boys off marriage?” she asked, half pleading, half annoyed. “I thought we had a good marriage, your da and me. He was so wonderful to me. I tried to take good care of him and you boys! It makes me wonder where we failed that the lot of you are terrified of marriage.”
“It wasn’t you and Da, Mom. It was the two marriages in the family and the Pope, if you get my drift. I mean, Aiden and Luke had a couple of short, train-wreck marriages that just about killed both of them, and then there was this whole Catholic thing of not recognizing their next marriages, if they were crazy enough to have them. I mean come on—Luke’s wife had another man’s baby and Aiden’s crazy Annalee was ballistic, totally certifiable. And they stuck by both those women as long as they could but, bottom line, the women left them. And still, no future marriage in the church? Come on! You know what kind of—” He realized he was on a rant and stopped himself. He hung his head. You didn’t knock the Catholic church in front of Saint Maureen. Without looking up, he said, “If I could have been guaranteed a marriage as sweet as you had with Da, I’d have jumped in. Those other things—they worried me.”
“You’ve always overreacted, Sean. Luke and Shelby were married by a priest! His marriage most certainly counts in the church!”
Sean flushed and hoped Maureen wouldn’t see it. Only the boys knew that Luke never even tried to get an annulment from his former wife. He told the priest his marriage to Shelby was his first. Luke was fine with that, but that knowledge would have had Maureen praying for his soul night and day for the rest of her life.
“It’s all right, Sean. Even I can admit Papa is sometimes a little behind the times,” she said. Papa was an affectionate nickname for the Pontiff. “He’s sometimes a little antiquated. I pray for change. My parish priest is very with it, you’d like him. He’d probably give you peace of mind.”
“Yeah, right. Well, back to Francine. She had an agenda I didn’t know about. She kept it from me. She had her reasons, I get that. But see…Okay, here’s the deal—we had an ugly fight. She wanted marriage and family, and I said I thought we were good just like we were. We said mean things. We split with hard feelings. I tried to catch up with her later, but the air force kind of scattered us—she got out and I got transferred. So when I saw her, it was so—” He stopped. He took a gulp of beer and swallowed hard.
“Mom,” he went on. “Franci was pregnant and I didn’t know it. She left because I didn’t want to marry her. Of course I would have if I’d known, which is why she kept it from me. She didn’t want it that way so she chose to do it alone.”
He watched the slow transformation of his mother’s face. When she was pregnant made her stiffen. Because I didn’t want to marry her made her glare angrily. Now she was maintaining that scary silence he remembered from his youth.
He brazened on. “Mom, I have a daughter. She’s three and a half. I’ve only known about this for a day. I don’t even know her birthday, but I made sure she knew I was her dad and that, from now on, she will always know how to find me, and I’ll be nearby whenever it’s possible. And yes, I asked Franci to marry me, make us a family, but she’s pretty leery of me. I’m going to have to convince both of them I’m worth the risk, I guess.” He swallowed. “You have a granddaughter, Mom. Red hair. Green eyes. Scary smart. Her name is Rosie. She calls herself the Wide Iwish Rose.”
Maureen wilted before his eyes. She got teary and, as redheads are wont to do, her nose got pink and the edges of her lips blurred as she pursed them. She sniffed back emotion to keep control. “How did you let this happen?” she asked, her voice catching.
“I didn’t let it, Mom. It took me completely by surprise!”
“How did you have an intimate relationship with her for…for presumably a long time, then refuse to marry her? Is that how you were raised?”
He sat forward. “No. I was raised a whole other way, which might have a lot to do with—Listen, it’s a different world than when you and Dad were young.”
“Not that different,” she said. “Tell me everything. And don’t hold back because I’m going to find out eventually.”
“Mom! I didn’t skip school or go to a kegger! Of course I’ll tell you everything. Thing is, I just found out. I spent a day with them—Franci and Rosie—and knew the first thing to do was tell you. Mom,” he said, scooting forward in his chair, “I have so much catching up to do. I don’t know anything about kids. I spent one afternoon with her and it brought me to my knees. Do you have any idea how exhausting a three-year-old is? Yeah,” he said, nodding at her, “you might know that, huh? Well, it’s going to take me a while to get a handle on this. Thank God I’m burning leave at Luke’s for another…God, less than six weeks now! It’s going to take me at least that long just to know how to—”
“Tell me about her. Did you bring a picture?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t even think that far ahead. But here’s what I’ll do—I’ll take a picture and send it to your cell phone the second I get back. You remember how I showed you to send the cell-phone picture to the computer? And I’ll take more digital pictures right away. But the first thing I had to do was get to know Rosie, and I have to keep getting to know her.
And the second thing was tell you about her.”
“And Franci?”
He locked eyes with his mother. “I have to find a way to get us back together. I know she’s not like Annalee or Luke’s Felicia. Never a question about that, but I was still gun-shy back then. I’m not now—I’m going to court Franci and Rosie and hope for the best. There’s a lot to do. First thing—I need to set up a college account and find out what Franci needs for expenses. I have to take Rosie to Beale—she wants to see my plane. I have to learn how to play with her, talk to her, teach her things. I have to…”
But Maureen got up and left the room, walking down the short hall to her bedroom. Sean was stunned for a moment, confused as to why she’d walk out on the conversation. Was she driven to tears? Really pissed at him? He followed her, feeling panic rise inside. The door to her room was open. “Mom?” he said.
She came out of her walk-in closet, dragging her largest suitcase. She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him. “Sean, how did you let this happen?”
“I didn’t let it—I told you, I didn’t know!”
“Obviously you know what happens when you—”
“Stop!” he said, holding up a hand. “Stop right there. We both know the biology of it. I’m not talking about things that Franci would consider very personal, so back away from that, Mom. You know how children are conceived. We have one, Franci and me. I’m doing the best I can.” He stopped. “What are you doing?”
“I’m packing. I want to meet my granddaughter.”
“Mom, she’s a little girl. Aiden wants to meet her, too. So does Luke. I imagine Shelby is…Okay, wait. I was afraid of this—you can’t just rush in on her. We have to take this slow.”
“I’ve already missed her first three years!” Maureen said.
“Me, too! Now slow down!”
“I’m not in the mood to slow down! I want to meet her as soon as possible!”