Once More From the Top (The Women of Willow Bay)

by Nan Reinhardt

  “A prodigy?” Dull color flushed his cheeks. “Seriously a prodigy? Not just a kid who plays well?”

  “Yes. One day when he was about three or so, he began picking out notes. He’s incredible.” She held her breath. Liam hadn’t moved, but she could tell he was beyond upset. He was angry—red-hot, fire-breathing furious.

  Why would hearing that his son’s a gifted pianist make him so mad?

  “He’s like my mother,” she added, trying to explain.

  Finally, he stood up and ran a shaky hand over his face. “I need to go.” His voice sounded rough.

  “Liam?” Carrie rose from the table, but he held the photo album up in front of him like a shield.

  “No.” He was in full retreat. “Goddamn you, Carrie. I’m so pissed at you right now, I don’t even want to see you. I’ve missed so much. Almost his entire childhood.” His face twisted. “He’s a teenager. And a pianist. But he’s a stranger to me. My own son is a stranger.”

  “I’m trying to fix that—” Carrie stood still, searching desperately for the right words to say.

  “Well you can’t! I don’t get that time back.” His voice rose, the pain so evident it cut through her like a scalpel. “Jesus! He’s fifteen. I don’t ever get to change a diaper or rock him or read to him or teach him to play scales or Mozart. That’s done. It’s gone. Over.” Tears shimmered in his eyes. It alarmed her that he was so close to breaking. “And by God, I resent the hell out of you for that.”

  Turning his back on her, he left, letting the door slam behind him.

  TWELVE

  Stunned, Carrie hurried to the window in time to see Liam hop over the rail of the Allegro and disappear inside.

  Her stomach tied into nervous knots as she slumped onto the window seat. The album was meant as a gesture of goodwill—so he could see Jack’s childhood. She truly thought he’d receive it as the wonderful gift she intended, that he’d be glad to have it. Instead she’d made him angry. Again. And this time, he was good and pissed.

  Damn, damn, damn, now what? How do I fix this?

  That thought took her by surprise, because she wanted to fix it. Now that he was here, there was no hiding from the hunger he created in her. Not only that, it was time to think about Jack and his relationship with his father. She didn’t want to blow whatever chance her son might have of knowing his dad. And yes, she wanted to find out where she and Liam were going, to see what—if anything—was possible. However, nothing was going to be possible if they couldn’t spend an hour together without the hostility. Seemed like all they’d done in the last forty-eight hours was snarl at one another.

  Or paw each other.

  Instinctively, she reached for her phone to call Julie and hash it through. But as her finger swiped the screen, she paused. There was no need to call her lifeline this time. She knew exactly what her best friend would say.

  Time to step up, dolly. Get your butt down there and talk to him.

  She gazed down at the boat for several moments, and then taking a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and headed out the door.

  * * * *

  Will looked up from his laptop when Liam strode into the salon. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  Liam slammed the album down on the table. “Fifteen years of my son’s life, conveniently condensed into twenty pages.”

  “What the hell?” Will reached for the leather album. “What’s going on?” Thumbing through the pages, he examined the pictures of Jack, all the while glancing at Liam who was pacing and seething. “Okay, I’m lost. I guess I don’t get why this isn’t a good thing.”

  “Goddammit, I missed everything! She kept him from me and I missed it all. She spends fifteen years with him. I get a fucking photo album.” Liam threw himself onto the sofa. “Guess what else came out today. Jack’s a piano prodigy. Do you believe that?”

  “Yeah, I believe it,” Will replied. “His gene pool is full of gifted musicians. I’d have been more surprised if you’d told me he was tone-deaf. His grandmother was Beth Ann Halligan, for God’s sake.”

  Liam glared at him, but Will went on. “Look, Liam, I get why you’re pissed. It’s sad you missed so much of Jack’s childhood. But you can’t change that—no matter how much you rant and rave. It is what it is, man.”

  “I hate it when people say that.” Liam snarled. “What else would it be?”

  Will stood and warmed up his coffee. “Frankly, I can see why she kept it to herself. Can’t you see it through her eyes for even a minute?”

  “No! It was a crappy, cowardly thing to do. Hell, if Eliot hadn’t forced the issue, I still wouldn’t know Jack existed. She had no intention of ever telling me.”

  “Are you absolutely certain of that?” Will came around and sat down in the big club chair, cradling his coffee mug in his hands. “Yeah, you missed a lot. But your world is hell and gone from hers. Try to see why she’d be a little reluctant to come into it with a kid. Or bring you into her life for that matter. I can see why she’d be afraid.”

  “Stop defending her,” Liam snapped.

  “Then stop being an ass,” Will retorted. “Last night you were so hot for her that you had your hands all over her and now, you’re too pissed to even be in the same room with her?” He took a deep sip of coffee. “Get a grip, pal. If you want to find out what’s possible—and those are your words, not mine—you’re going to have to forgive her for hiding Jack. It’s done, and she’s trying to make it up to you. This photo book is an olive branch, not a trump card.”

  “How could you possibly know what her motivation is in giving me these pictures?” Liam was trying to calm down. The anger he’d spewed at Will was misplaced, but he hurt. He glared at the album on the table—a cruel reminder of what he didn’t have—would never have. “You don’t know a fucking thing about her.”

  “Well, you do know her. She might be closed up, but is she malicious? Is she the kind of woman who would deliberately hurt you?”

  Liam gazed at him for a long moment, then shoved his fingers through his hair. “No. Not deliberately. Not even me.”

  “I’d be more inclined to say especially not you,” Will said. “The woman clearly has feelings for you. Of course, that’s only my humble opinion—based on the fact that when Tony and I came back last night, we couldn’t have gotten a postcard between the two of you.” He paused, tilting his head to peer into Liam’s face. “Her world is as wrong-side-out as yours right now. I seriously doubt she gave you these pictures out of spite.”

  “He’s right, Liam. I meant the album as a gift.” Carrie stood in the doorway, her voice soft but firm. “I thought you might like to have some pictures of Jack—to see what he’s been doing. You know, to start to know who he is.”

  They both stared silently at her as she came further into the salon.

  “I’m sorry, truly sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” She shrugged, her dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Seems like that’s all I’ve said to you in the past twenty-four hours.”

  Will stood up and grabbed his cell phone from the table. “Hello, Carrie.” He smiled and patted her shoulder as he walked by. “Well, folks, gotta run. Gotta go see a man about some music. No, no, please, don’t ask me to stay.” He slipped out with a wave.

  Silence yawned between them as the sound of his footsteps faded up the docks.

  Liam sighed and rubbed his face.

  Carrie trembled, but her eyes remained locked on his as she came around the chair to him. Leaning down, she ran a gentle thumb over his lower lip, resting her other hand over his heart.

  Could she feel it pounding? Closing her eyes, she touched her lips to his in a whisper of a kiss that left him longing for more.

  No. Dammit, no.

  “Don’t do that.” He moved his head away and leapt up, putting as much distance between them as he could in the close quarters. “What are you trying to do? Channel your inner vamp? Get me off guard? Seduce me to ease your conscience? A quick fuck and I’m supposed to forget y
ou hid my son from me for years?”

  The blood drained from her face as she sucked in a quick breath.

  He immediately regretted the cutting words. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes sliding away from her stricken expression. “I didn’t mean that.”

  Carrie stood frozen beside the club chair, her dark eyes huge, her lower lip caught between her teeth. When she finally spoke, her voice was so small he almost didn’t hear it. “Jack is a counselor at Lawson this summer.” She swallowed hard but continued in a more normal tone. “I’ll go get him today. Or if you want, we can both go up there... right this minute.” Her last words came out even louder, but haltingly.

  Liam stared at her, his heart hammering in his chest. The tears that had been threatening since she walked in the door rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. She looked so vulnerable. So delicate. So beautiful. In spite of his anger, he couldn’t help wanting her.

  Maybe she really is trying.

  “Aww, shit,” he groaned.

  In two strides, he had her in his arms. He took her lips softly at first and as she began to respond, more fiercely. Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he held her head still for his mouth, tasting her salty tears as he increased the pressure. Then she was returning the kiss, opening her lips to his, meeting his tongue stroke for stroke.

  When he lifted his head, their eyes met. They were both breathless.

  She gave him a feeble smile. “We’ve got to work on our communication, Maestro, because this isn’t going well.” Her voice quavered. “So far, it seems like we’ve spent all our time being mad at each other. Oh, and making out. We seem to be doing a lot of that.”

  “Making out?” Liam scoffed. “Maybe we should stick with that part.” He hugged her close and she relaxed in his arms. Rubbing his cheek on her hair, he said, “Carrie, I appreciate your offer, but we don’t have to go get Jack right now. I’m dying to meet him, but I promised you five days. I’m not going to break that promise. We’ve got to figure us out, that’s for damn sure.”

  “I’m really am sorry you resent the time I’ve had with him.” Carrie smoothed her hands up and down his back. “I don’t blame you for being angry, but all I have to offer you is that album and the here-and-now. I can’t give you back Jack’s childhood. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry for yelling at you.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “There aren’t any more secrets, right? Jack doesn’t have a twin? No husband or fiancé who’s going to suddenly appear and challenge me to a duel?”

  She hid her face in his shirt front as she shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

  * * * *

  Carrie knew she would have to confess at some point, but not now. Not when she was practically back in his good graces. Besides, what if they couldn’t make a go of it? What would be the point in telling him about the money if they were just going to be estranged parents sharing custody of a teenager?

  He pressed his lips to her forehead. “That’s good to know, and listen, thanks for the pictures. I’m glad to have them.” He sighed. “I don’t deny there’s still a little part of me that’s resentful. Guess I’ll have to work on that, huh?”

  “You’re entitled.”

  More than you know, Maestro, more than you know.

  She tipped her chin back to smile at him. “If we can leave the resentful part here, would the rest of you like to go to the lighthouse with me? I thought we might try relaxing and having some fun together. We can take a picnic and eat on the beach.”

  “Fun? You and me? Huh. I vaguely remember having fun with you.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Don’t you have clients today?”

  “Nope, not a one, and the phone can go to voicemail. I don’t keep regular hours at the studio since all my work’s by appointment.” She took his hand, pulling him toward the door. “What about you? Anything you have to do today?”

  “No. Tomorrow we drive up to Traverse City to meet the orchestra. I was going to go over the rest of the scores for the benefit today, but we still don’t have a couple of the pieces. Will’s going up there to see about getting them. I’ll need to work on them tonight, but for now, I’m all yours.”

  THIRTEEN

  They strolled along the Lake Michigan shore to Willow Bay lighthouse. Carrie’s insulated backpack, filled with a picnic of wine, bread, cheese, and fruit was slung over Liam’s shoulder. As they explored the lighthouse, she regaled him with stories about her volunteer work there. Since restoring the old structure was her favorite cause, it touched her beyond words when he not only took an envelope to make a donation, but also bought sweatshirts for Will, Tony, and himself to help support the restoration effort. After the tour, she spread a blanket out on the sand, and nestled in the cleft of the dunes, they ate their lunch. The beach and the water were only a few yards away, and she let the waves whispering on the sand help her relax.

  Carrie shared anecdotes about Jack as a baby and a youngster, delighted as Liam laughed, his eyes sparkling when she told him about Jack’s first full sentence. “It’s his first birthday and we’re all in Noah and Margie’s kitchen. Jack’s in a high chair. He’s stuffed himself with cake and ice cream. His little face covered in strawberry goop, and there’s Eliot next to him. ‘Say Elliot,’ he says. ‘Say Eliot.’ He’s drawing it out for him. ‘El-li-ot.’” She demonstrated. “Finally Jack looks him right in the eye and clear as a bell says, ‘No, Elly, I don’t want to.’” She grinned. “He’s been Elly to Jack ever since, and the kid never went back to baby talk.”

  “So you knew early on how bright he is?” Liam leaned back on his elbows.

  “Yes, he’s done everything fast. Walked at eight months. Talked really early. His vocabulary’s always been extraordinary. He’s got an unquenchable thirst for learning anything new.” She couldn’t help the pride in her voice. She wanted Liam to be proud of him, to be proud of her. To believe she was doing a good job parenting his son.

  “And the music?” His eyes narrowed.

  “That’s pretty much his life.” She paused for a moment. What would he think about her choices? Would he agree? “I kept him in public school until freshman year. He studied piano with Eliot and went to summer camp at Lawson. But last year, he was a day student at Interlochen. This fall, he goes in as a boarder.”

  “Why did you wait until freshman year for Interlochen?”

  She expelled a breath, then turned to meet his eyes. “Partly selfish, I guess. I wanted him with me. But also I thought he needed balance, to have some friends who weren’t completely absorbed in the arts. He needs to be at Interlochen, though. He’s too gifted not to focus on the music.”

  Liam continued asking question after question, particularly about Jack and the piano. A tiny qualm niggled in the back of her mind as she detailed Jack’s musical history. Liam was immensely curious about Jack’s gift, about where he might be headed with it. That worried her. Jack needed to stay here and finish high school at Interlochen. Then maybe audition for Juilliard or the New England Conservatory. Surely Liam would never consider taking him on the road. His life was so different from theirs, her doubts about how they would ever fit into his world were too numerous to count. Yet she sat fascinated as he talked about touring, about the concert halls and venues he’d been in. About the orchestras he’d conducted.

  “I wish you could have seen the open-air theater in Athens. So incredible! Full of ancient history and yet bursting with new life.”

  Carrie watched him, captivated by how he gestured broadly when he spoke, almost as if he was conducting. Enthusiasm shone in his expression, his zeal almost a palpable thing.

  “In Europe, people cut their cultural teeth on classical music and opera. The kids are as jacked up about Mozart and Puccini as teenagers here are about rock music. They love rock music over there too, but they also appreciate classical.”

  “You spend a lot of time in Europe, don’t you?” Carrie tipped her head back t
o feel the sun on her face. The breeze ruffled her hair.

  He nodded, taking a sip of wine before he replied. “About every two or three years, I do a tour over there. We sort through and add cities or take some off. I always go to London, Paris, Venice, Vienna. Athens was new this past year. We did Moscow three years ago. God, was that ever fascinating. And three weeks in China, which was completely surreal. I’d love to take you and Jack there, you’d be overwhelmed.”

  “No doubt,” Carrie chuckled. “I sometimes get overwhelmed in Traverse City. I can’t even imagine China or Moscow.”

  “When did you become such a homebody?” Liam reached for her hand. “You used to travel with your dad, didn’t you? And with Eliot to competitions?”

  “No, my dad never traveled much after my mother died. We stayed at the farm. His agents took care of the horse sales.” Carrie glanced down at their entwined fingers, too aware of the bolt of electricity that simple touch created. “And until Montreal, I hadn’t been any further away from Louisville than Chicago. The competitions I played in were small time, pretty much all in the Midwest.”

  “You’re kidding?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “I guess I assumed you were well-traveled since your dad dealt in race horses and you planned to play professionally.”

  “Nope. I was only a couple of years out of college when I came to McGill. I’ve been here in Willow Bay so long, I can’t even imagine going so far away.”

  He eyed her for moment. “Tell me about the piano bar. What’s that about?”

  Heat flushed her cheeks. It was inevitable he’d bring that up. She was surprised he hadn’t asked her about it at dinner the night before. “I don’t know. A way to stay connected to my mother, I guess.”