The Summer Garden

by Sherryl Woods

  It was probably just as well. The time she’d spent with Jess and Laila had been a revelation. It had helped her gain a different perspective on what she did and didn’t want for the future. As excited as she was by this opportunity back in Dublin, she knew now that she’d never view photography as more important than family. She wanted the accomplishment of it, perhaps even needed the boost to her self-esteem, but what she wanted most of all was a family of her own, people who loved her and counted on her.

  It wasn’t, however, a discovery she was particularly anxious to share. She’d seen the shock on Laila’s face and even on Jess’s when she’d mentioned her feelings. In this family of overachievers, such an admission wouldn’t necessarily be applauded. Not that it should matter, if she was being true to herself, she thought.

  Well, it was all a bit of a pipe dream, for now, anyway. Neither the big-time photography career nor the family were a given at the moment.

  At loose ends, she took her camera and wandered into town, hoping Luke would have some free time or, at the very least, some tasks she could take over for him. But when she arrived at the pub, she was told he’d gone off to Mack’s newspaper office to place ads for staff and for the opening.

  “Do you know where that is?” one of the construction crew asked. “It’s just a few blocks, if you’d like to meet him there. Here, I’ll write it down for you.”

  “Thanks,” she said, accepting the map he’d quickly sketched for her.

  She was halfway down Main Street when she was distracted by the children playing on the town green. She stopped to take a few pictures and before long she was lost in the images that captured the carefree laughter and, on occasion, the tears when the concept of sharing didn’t go over well or a helter-skelter run ended with a fall.

  She’d finished taking her shots, the children were gone, but she was still absorbed in looking at the pictures on her digital camera when Luke found her.

  “I heard you were looking for me,” he said, grinning at her. “But then you obviously forgot all about me. I’m not quite sure how to feel about your losing interest so easily.”

  “Never that,” she responded. “I just got caught up in taking a few pictures.”

  “Want to show me over lunch? We can go to Sally’s, unless you’d rather have another picnic by the water.”

  “Outside by the water is definitely better,” she said. “But I don’t want much in the way of food. Jess’s chef made stuffed French toast for us this morning, and I’m still regretting how much of it I ate.”

  “How’d you rate the fancy food?” he complained. “The best she’s ever offered me was scrambled eggs and bacon.”

  “I think it was for Laila’s benefit,” Moira told him. “She was having a rough morning.”

  Luke frowned. “You saw Laila, too? Did she say what was going on?”

  Moira sensed that he’d heard the other side of the story. “You know, don’t you?” He must have if he’d been encouraging Matthew to buy baby clothes. Still, she didn’t want to take chances with someone else’s private squabble.

  “Know what?” he hedged.

  “You go first,” she insisted. “I don’t want to be the one spilling secrets.”

  “The baby,” he said.

  She nodded, smiling. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Matthew certainly thinks so, and so do I,” Luke said. “But I was under the impression that Laila has reservations.”

  “Oh, she does,” Moira admitted. “But a little girl talk and a lot of food seemed to calm her down.”

  “Then she’s not going to chop off any of Matthew’s important parts while he sleeps?”

  Moira laughed. “It didn’t come up in conversation. I think he’s safe enough.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “I hear you recommended that he bring home baby clothes.”

  “I did,” Luke confessed. “Did it work?”

  “She saw it for the ploy that it was, but the last time I saw her, she was heading home to take another look at them. I think she’s still coming to grips with the idea that in a few months’ time, she’ll be giving birth to someone who’ll actually fit into them.”

  “I envy them,” Luke admitted.

  Moira regarded him with surprise. “You do? Really?”

  He nodded. “I’ve never been serious enough about anyone to think ahead to having children, but when Matthew told me, it hit me that I want that, too. It seems to be the O’Brien curse that we all want what the others have.” He gave her a wry look. “Whether I’m ready for the responsibility is a different story. First—”

  She cut him off. “First you have a business to launch,” she finished for him. “Do all men approach life in such a single-minded, orderly progression?” she asked. “First this, then that, never veering from the path for the unexpected surprise.”

  “Not all men,” Luke responded. “Matthew, for one, seems to thrive on surprises. The effect Laila had on him caught him completely off guard. And now this baby. I’ve never seen him happier, even though neither were on his agenda when he first left college. He was the ultimate playboy, or at least that’s what we all thought.”

  “I thought that was your role,” Moira teased. “The one you relished above all others.”

  “It was,” he admitted. “And then one day, out of the blue, I wanted something different. I wanted what the other men in my family had found. I wanted to be more than an aimless wanderer. I wanted to be settled in a career.”

  “With a family?” she asked.

  “You already know the answer to that,” he said.

  “When the time comes,” she said, knowing the words by heart by now.

  She thought of the calendar ticking away the days of her visit, one by one. They would fly by and, once they were gone, what if the time for that family Luke was thinking about hadn’t yet come? What then? Even with all their talks, not a one had dispelled the uncertainty. Panic, never far away, stirred once more.

  Luke had seen a shadow cross Moira’s face as they talked about Matthew and Laila expecting a baby. He realized as they sat across from the bay having lunch, though, that she’d never really said how she would feel about having a family. Did she not want one, or had his own responses daunted her?

  Since any thoughts of a family were definitely down the road, he pushed aside his questions in favor of asking about the photographs she’d shot.

  “Will you show them to me?” he asked her, pointing toward the camera. “Or are you one of those sensitive, creative types who doesn’t want anyone to see anything except the finished product?”

  “I’m so new at this, I haven’t developed any idiosyncrasies quite yet,” she said. “I’ll let you look, but it might be better for you to see them on your computer, if it’s equipped for photos.”

  “It is,” he said. “We’ll take a look as soon as we’ve finished lunch.”

  She sighed and leaned back. “I was finished before I’d begun,” she said. “How can Jess be around such food all the time and still be so thin? I’d be the size of a house.”

  “Although I’ve heard a lot of talk about Gail’s decadent chocolate cake being eaten late at night, it’s been Will who’s grumbling about gaining weight. I think he may be the only one in their household who indulges regularly in Gail’s more caloric offerings. And Jess has always had energy to spare. She burns off everything she eats.”

  “Lucky woman,” Moira said. “I doubt I’d have the willpower to resist anything, and everything I eat settles straight on my hips.”

  Luke grinned. “You have excellent hips. In fact, all your curves are just perfect.”

  She gave him a wry look. “Seriously, though, how is your kitchen at the pub going to compete with Gail’s gourmet fare?”

  “By not trying to,” Luke s
aid at once. “We’ll have far simpler food, as you well know, having listed at least a dozen menu alternatives with Gram’s help the other day.”

  Moira’s expression immediately brightened. “You’ve gone over them? What did you think?”

  “It looked excellent to me. The only hitch is that I can prepare only about half of them so far.”

  “I’ll pitch in, if you like,” she said eagerly.

  “That would be great for the opening and a day or two beyond,” he said. “But then what, Moira? You’ll be heading back to Dublin. I’ll have to manage on my own. I can’t rely on Gram, either, not at her age. It wouldn’t be fair. I’m thinking it will be necessary to hire a full-time cook, after all.”

  She looked as if she might argue, though Luke couldn’t imagine what she could possibly contradict. Everything he’d said was true. Eventually, she sighed. “I suppose you’re right, which means you’ll need to hire that person right away, someone who can master all the recipes right along with you. I’ll help Nell give you both lessons.”

  Luke chuckled for some reason. “I’m not quite sure how I feel about your bossing me around within range of sharp knives,” he teased.

  “I’ve seen no evidence that I intimidate you on any level,” she replied. “What is the expression? Don’t be a wuss.”

  Luke sputtered indignantly, but he couldn’t help laughing in the end. He draped an arm over her shoulders and drew her close enough to peer into her eyes. “You do scare the daylights out of me, you know. You make me feel things that throw me completely off-kilter.”

  “Really?” she said, looking pleased.

  He nodded. “For instance, right this second, I can’t help thinking about the fact that my apartment is only a hundred yards or so away from here.”

  She smiled at the reminder. “And you’d like to play hooky from work to head over there with me?”

  “I would,” he said, still holding her gaze. “How about you?”

  “There’s nothing I’d like more,” she said quietly, standing up. Then she kicked his hope aside by grinning. “But we’re going back to the pub instead. I’ll not be the one who throws off your timetable, Luke O’Brien. I’d never hear the end of it from your family, and you’d only resent me on top of it.”

  “Aren’t you the one who’s been complaining bitterly about my strict attention to my priorities?” he grumbled as he followed her across the street.

  “True, but when you have me in your bed, I want all of your attention on me, not half of it on the work you should be doing.”

  “Oh, I think I could promise that,” he assured her.

  She laughed at his last-ditch attempt to lure her in. “Then I’d be the one doing the worrying.” She winked. “Maybe at the end of the day, then. What would you think of that?”

  He nodded reluctantly. “A decent compromise,” he conceded.

  “I’m working on learning the art of it.”

  Just his luck she’d picked now to give it her first try.

  Inside the pub, Moira tried to ignore the deafening noise of the construction crew as they cut and installed the last of the chair-rail molding that Luke had requested. The electricians had ladders scattered about as they finished with the lighting fixtures.

  While Luke dealt with various minor crises that had crept up while he’d been out placing his ads and having lunch, she retreated to his office and loaded her photos onto his laptop. As she sorted through them, deleting a few and saving others to a file she labeled “Chesapeake Shores,” she completely lost herself in what she was doing. Though it sounded ridiculous, it almost seemed as if she were seeing them for the first time, as if they’d been shot by someone else. She was able to look at them completely objectively, picking and choosing only those she thought were a notch above all the others, those that told a story in a single image.

  The pictures she’d taken on the town green were the best. While those of the scenery were beautiful, these were full of life. She couldn’t help smiling as she looked at them.

  Suddenly she was aware of Luke standing behind her. Immediately feeling shy, she glanced up at him. “Well?”

  “Moira, they’re truly remarkable,” he said. “Would you mind if I asked someone over to look at them?”

  She frowned at the idea of a stranger viewing these, which, in her mind, were little more than vacation pictures. “Who?”

  “Megan,” he told her.

  She frowned. “Why would you want your aunt to see them?”

  “Because she owns an art gallery just down the block,” he reminded her. “She’ll want to see your work, I think. At the very least, you’ll have some candid feedback from someone who knows about these things.”

  “Luke, I don’t know,” she said, uncertainty creeping in. Her photography was still so new. Was she ready to hear an expert’s opinion?

  “You said you didn’t trust the comments you’d had so far because they were from friends and family. Megan’s an authority.”

  She knew he was right, that it was an opportunity she shouldn’t pass up, but the truth was that she was terrified. What if Megan said her pictures didn’t measure up? What then? She could hardly ignore the opinion of someone who actually understood something about the world of art and photography. What if her dreams were dashed before they’d even begun?

  Then reason kicked in. Would that be so terrible? In a way it would take the decision about the future out of her hands. If she wasn’t meant to be any sort of photographer, she could focus on having the family she’d always felt was her destiny.

  She drew in a deep breath, then nodded. “Call her.”

  Rather than listening while Luke spoke to his aunt, she concentrated on sorting through the pictures she’d selected as being better than average. Were they good enough, though? Suddenly she’d lost her earlier ability to be objective. She questioned each and every one of them. Was this one too dark? That one a bit fuzzy because of the child’s sudden movement?

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to suffer all the uncertainty for long, because Megan arrived within minutes. Moira gave her a weak smile.

  “I hope you’ll not be sorry that Luke called you and wasted your time,” she said to the stylish woman, who offered her an understanding look in return.

  “No need to panic or make excuses, Moira,” Megan said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m not here to rip your heart out. I’m just a friend who happens to have some experience in this field. I have a photography show hanging in my gallery right now, as a matter of fact. You should come back with me when we’re finished here and take a look. I’d love to hear what you think.”

  Moira regarded her with amazement. “You’d want my opinion?”

  Megan nodded. “Why wouldn’t I? Luke wouldn’t have called me if he didn’t believe you have an eye for this.” She nudged Moira aside to take her place in front of the computer, then met her gaze. “Seriously, do you mind if I have a look? If Luke bullied you into it, I can wait.”

  Moira shook her head and stepped away, unable to watch. Luke came up beside her and, as if sensing her panic, took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “You’ll see.”

  Moira prayed he was right. It didn’t help that Megan was silent as she went through the photos in the file. She lingered over each one for what seemed like an eternity. Occasionally, a smile touched her lips, but that was her only visible reaction.

  Eventually she turned to Moira. “You took these this morning?”

  “I was walking by the green and saw the children. I couldn’t stop myself from taking their pictures.”

  “A couple of them are my grandchildren,” Megan said. “Didn’t you recognize them?”

  Moira was dumbstruck. “I should have, shouldn’t I? I was so focused o
n the shots, I wasn’t really looking for O’Briens.”

  “I’m going to want prints of them for myself and for their parents,” Megan told her. “More important, I’d like you to consider building a portfolio while you’re here. If you do that, perhaps we can talk about a showing at my gallery sometime down the road.”

  Moira’s mouth gaped. “You can’t be serious!”

  “Of course I’m serious,” Megan said. “I’m thinking it could be called The Faces of Chesapeake Shores or something like that. The locals will go crazy for it and collectors will snap them up. I don’t know what you were told in Ireland, but you capture the heart of people. I know because I see little Mick’s exuberance and Davy’s energy. And the little girl who’s in tears as another child walks away dragging a pull toy is priceless. You have a gift for finding a defining moment and getting it on film.”

  “And the scenery?” Moira asked, wondering if Megan would feel as she did about that.

  “It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t have the heart of the others, Moira.” She studied her intently. “I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.”

  Moira shook her head, suddenly feeling the knot inside her ease. “No, that’s exactly what I thought as well. My talent, if I have any, is to take pictures of people.”

  “Exactly,” Megan confirmed.

  Impulsively, Moira gave her a hug. “Thank you. I can’t tell you what it means to me to have you take the time to look at these.”

  Megan’s warm expression sobered. “I mean it about putting together a show, Moira. It will take time to assemble enough of a portfolio to choose from, but I have confidence you can do it. And if the pictures are as good as I anticipate, I think I can get you noticed in the right places.”

  The excitement Moira had felt just a couple of weeks ago when Peter had sung her praises multiplied a hundred times as she basked in Megan’s words.

  “Honestly?” she said, hardly daring to believe it. The scale balancing one future against another immediately tipped in favor of a career again.