Been In Love Before: A Novel

by Bryan Mooney

  Robert was quickly at her side. “Come here in the kitchen and sit down. I don’t want anything to happen to you . . . or my future grandson.” He pulled the chair from the table and helped her sit down.

  “Better?” he asked as she eased into the chair. She was the daughter he had never had, and he appreciated that she always said exactly what was on her mind. He loved her and would do anything for her.

  “Much better. Thanks, Dad,” she responded, watching him. “What’s wrong? You’ve been distracted since you picked me up.”

  He was quiet for minute and then said, “No one else knows yet but . . . I’m not going to Graw’s wedding, that’s all.”

  “Why the heavens not?”

  “He’s a Campbell, the same clan that tried to obliterate the Macgregors from the face of the globe for hundreds of years,” he said quietly.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “The king of Scotland, James the Sixth, issued an edict that proclaimed that the name of MacGregor was to be abolished. It meant that anyone who bore the name of MacGregor must renounce their name publicly or be hung.” He paused to catch his breath.

  “Campbell clans took the lead and hunted the MacGregors in the moors, in the mountains and the valleys, and then murdered them like wild animals. The MacGregor clan was scattered to the four winds, with many being forced to take other names like Murray or Grant. Even the horrible Scottish parliament got involved and abolished the name of MacGregor and shunned all those who bore it. The Campbells were behind it all. But can you believe it, even with all of that, the MacGregors still fought for the king of Scotland during the Scottish Civil War?”

  “Dad, I know my Scottish history. That was in 1603, and I’m sure Mickey was not around then, and neither were you. He had nothing to do with it. Let it go, please. You’re still alive, aren’t you, and you certainly don’t look over a hundred years old?” she said, trying to make light of it. He needed to see it as it was—an old feud. “Mary Kate means a whole lot more than some festering feud that happened hundreds of years ago. Mickey seems like a real nice guy, and they love each other. That’s all that counts. Isn’t it?”

  He was quiet.

  She paused before saying, “You do what you want, but I know that it would break Mary Kate’s heart if you weren’t there for her wedding.” His mind seemed made up, and she knew she could not alter his perception of reality. Changing the subject, she said thoughtfully, “Dad, this is a lovely house. You have four bedrooms, an unfinished basement downstairs that you can build out if you like, and a nice workshop in the garage. The yard is large enough so we can have family cookouts here and Thanksgiving dinners, the way you always like to do. And during the holidays, you can throw a big Christmas log onto the fireplace. Yeah, it’ll be real nice.”

  She patted his hand. “Everything will work out fine, trust me. It’s perfect. It has everything you need.”

  “Everything except someone to share it with,” he added quietly.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed a number, and after a few moments he hung up and tossed his phone on the kitchen counter. His face said it all. “I guess she’s out. Somewhere.”

  “Coleen?”

  “Yes.” He was silent, and she could tell he was struggling.

  “Something happened when we were last together. I must have done something wrong or said something wrong or . . . gee, I don’t know. And now I can’t even get through to her. At the office, they say she’s unavailable. At home she won’t take my calls. It’s been days, and I’ve heard nothing from her. I miss her.”

  She could tell he was in pain. She reached out to hold his hand. “I’m sure there’s a simple explanation for it all. Wait, you’ll see.”

  He smiled at her, then stood watching some young boys at the back of the property fishing from the old wooden boat dock. He saw them bait the fishhooks and cast their lines far out into the lake. He watched them fish as he began to pace in front of the window.

  Finally he said, “Will you be okay here if I go out and talk to them for a few minutes? I just want to see what kind of fish they’re catching and what they use for bait.”

  “Sure, I’ll be fine. You go ahead. I’m just going to sit here and watch.”

  “I won’t be long. I’ll be right back. Five minutes.”

  Patti saw him walk down the hill toward the lake and wave at the kids as he approached them. Once there, he sat on the grass as he watched them fish and talked to them.

  She took off her shoes and began to massage her swollen, aching feet. Nothing helped; she could never get any relief no matter what she did. Her feet always hurt, and her back ached no matter how she slept or walked or sat. Everything ached.

  The baby kicked, and then kicked again and again. Oh no. Not now, not here, please. She sat perfectly still, rubbing her belly. “It’s okay, everything will be fine, dear heart,” she whispered. “Take all the time you need . . . but I’m sure ready whenever you are.”

  The house was quiet as she sat and looked around. It had a warm, comfortable feel to it. This will be a good house for him, she thought as his phone rang and vibrated across the countertop. It rang again. She turned to look for him; he was still engrossed in discussion with the young boys down by the lake. She picked up the phone and looked at the caller ID; it read COLEEN CALLAHAN.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Hello? Mac?”

  “No, I’m sorry, he’s not here at the moment. He just stepped out for a minute,” she said, trying to stand to wave at him but thinking better of it and sitting back down.

  “Oh,” came the disappointed reply.

  “This is Patti, his very pregnant daughter-in-law. I’m sure he’ll only be a few minutes. He just went outside.”

  “Hi, this is Coleen. I’m an old friend of Mac’s.”

  “Hi. Nice to meet you. He has spoken very fondly of you, which is not something that he does about most people. Some call him crotchety, but I just love him to death.” She heard her laugh.

  “Well, he’s never been crotchety with me. As matter of fact, he’s been nothing but kind, sweet, caring, and . . .” Her voice went silent. “I miss him, Patti; God knows I miss him.”

  “Coleen, I can tell you he hasn’t been the same over the last couple days. I would have to say he misses you too, but I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever is going on between the two of you.” The phone went silent again. She heard a sigh on the other end.

  “Patti, he gave me a gold puffed heart for my birthday, one with . . .”

  “A small red ruby in the center?” Patti finished the sentence for her.

  “Yes! How did you know?”

  “It is a very special Scottish symbol to give as a gift to someone you love.”

  “Well, I saw a picture of his wife, and she was wearing the same gold heart. He always tells me about how I am the rhythm of his heart, and now I start to imagine him saying the same things to her. I felt special before, but now I feel betrayed, like . . . he was lying to me. I don’t know what to do.”

  Patti took in a deep breath, and said, “Robert Macgregor is a good man. One that you can count on when the going gets rough; you know that he’ll always be there for you, no matter what. Mac gave you the heart because that is the only way he knows how to tell you that he loves you.” She stopped. Was she going too far? She didn’t want to interfere.

  Coleen was quiet. Patti pressed on cautiously.

  “For a Scotsman, it’s a symbol of him giving his heart to you. Think about it . . . what more can he give you?” She became silent.

  “Coleen, he’s a good man, one of the best that I know”—she paused to chuckle—“but like most men, he’s just not that creative or original when it comes to matters of the heart . . . but he means well.” She looked out the window and saw him stand and begin his trek up the hill, back to the house, and she knew she did not have a lot of time. “He’s on his way back.”

  Coleen sounded desperate. “What do I do now?
I’ve been avoiding his phone calls and not talking with him or seeing him. He must think I hate him.”

  “I don’t think so at all. My suggestion would be to hang up and call back in a few minutes and talk to him. You’ll know what to say. Just don’t tell him about our conversation. Okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks, Patti. I can’t wait to meet you at the wedding. Bye.”

  She hung up and set the phone back on the table just in time to see him walk through the door.

  “Hiya.”

  “Catch anything?

  “The boys caught some bass and sunfish, and then threw them back into the lake. Catch and release. But there’s some good fishing here, I can tell.” Robert glanced down at the phone before saying, “Howya doing? Feet okay?”

  “No, but that won’t change for a while. It’s my back that’s killing me, carrying around all this extra weight,” she said, rubbing her back, then her belly. “Won’t be long.” She was hurting more than usual, and differently from before.

  “You want some hot water to soak your feet? Or maybe some Epsom salts?”

  “No, but I may need some help in getting my shoes back on.”

  “No problem.” He grabbed her shoes from the floor and was handing them to her when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, then at Patti before he answered it. She nodded for him to take the call.

  “Hi,” he said tenderly, and as she watched him speak, she saw his body language change. He covered the mouthpiece and whispered to her, “It’s Coleen.”

  Patti watched him as he listened to Coleen on the phone and heard him say, “That’s awful. Are you feeling better now?” He motioned to Patti that he was going outside for some fresh air and to finish his conversation. “Something you ate? Oh, that must have felt terrible . . . ,” she heard him say. She smiled and watched him through the window as he walked around the patio. A few minutes later, he came back inside with a huge grin on his face.

  “Can you believe that? She got food poisoning and was sicker than a dog for the last few days? Didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Poor girl, but she said she’s feeling much better now. I think I’ll send her some get-well flowers.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Dad.” She smiled. “Are you ready to go?” she asked as she finally managed to shove her foot inside her shoe.

  “Yeah. I think I’ll buy this house. It has a good feel to it.”

  She hugged him and wrapped her arm around his. “I agree. Good choice. You’re so wise. I guess that’s why I love you so much.”

  “I’m just a lovable kind of guy, that’s all. Come on, let’s go.”

  They walked outside and he took one last look around at the house and the lake. “Yes, this will be a good house for the family. I’ll put a swing right there and swing with my new grandson, Robert.”

  She looked at him. “Dad, about the name thing . . .”

  He saw the look on her face and said, “Or whatever you decide to call him. It’ll be fine with me. As long as he’s healthy. That’s all that matters.” He smiled and they walked away arm in arm from the soon-to-be Macgregor homestead.

  “And I think I’ll put a Macgregor coat of arms right there on the fence, for all to see.”

  “Great idea.” But she was worried. It would not be the same without him at the wedding. He was the elder of the family, the rock of the Macgregors, the glue that held everything together. She knew in the coming years everyone would regret it, including him. How can I talk him into it? What can I do?

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “Where’s the money, Calley?” His voice boomed from inside the bedroom and echoed throughout the small house.

  “What money, Phil?” she asked from the living room.

  “The spendin’ money we keep in that old metal box in the bedroom. That money. The box is empty. Where is it?” he shouted, his voice now at a fever pitch in the kitchen.

  “The grocery money?” she asked fearfully.

  “Yeah, that money. Where is it?” She could hear him in the kitchen cabinets, searching the shelves for any other money she may have hidden away.

  “I used it to buy groceries,” she said, getting off the couch and turning off the television. Calley had heard that tone in his voice before and knew what it meant. He was going to hurt somebody, and that somebody was usually her. Phil had been drinking again all day, and now he would take out his anger on her.

  She could hear Oscar begin to bark in the yard outside, responding to the repeated shouts emanating from inside the house.

  “Calley! Damn it!” he shouted.

  Run! She ran to the bathroom and locked the door. He was steps behind her. He pounded on the door; it shook violently and barely held him outside. She slid to the floor and began to cry, her back to the door to hold him at bay.

  A strange, deep voice chilled the silent air. “I’ll be back, my sweet, and when I am . . . I’m going to take care of you. Do you hear me, girlie, I’m going to take care of you once and for all. I’ve had enough of this . . . and of you.” The floor creaked in the dining room, and she heard him open the drawer there in the armoire—oh my God, no, now he has the gun.

  Through her tears, she began to pray, something she had not done in years, as her body shook in waves of fear. Then she heard the front door open and shut, the car door slam, and the car tires churn up the gravel in the driveway behind him.

  Calley went to the front window and saw the car race away, soon followed closely by a dark sedan. Her hands shook; she could not stop the tremors racing through her body. She knew what she had to do and ran into the bedroom. She grabbed clothes, shoes, her makeup bag, and whatever else she could find, throwing them into her old suitcase. She took the money from her secret hiding place underneath the floorboards and ran for the door. He would be home soon from the liquor store, and then the hurting would begin all over again.

  She opened the door, and standing before her was Oscar, his snarling pit bull, guarding her escape exit. He snapped, and then lunged at her as she stepped backward. Trapped! Oh my God, what do I do now?

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “Well, brothers, I got my date for the wedding,” said a chipper Ryan. “Eian, you got a date yet?”

  The other brothers watched him in anticipation.

  “Yes, I do, as a matter of fact.”

  “No groupies. Remember what Mary Kate said,” chuckled Robert.

  “She’s no groupie. I asked Rose, Rose Gilardo, to come with me. And she said she would be honored to join me.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Rose is going with you?” asked Ryan as they all sat on his living-room sofa, the TV on in the background with the sound muted. For once they were more interested in each other than in watching some foreign soccer game.

  “I predicted it,” said Robert, stretching out on the couch.

  Eian threw a pillow in his direction. “You what? I didn’t even ask her until yesterday.”

  “I predicted it right here last week.”

  “Like hell you did. You always want to take credit for everything,” laughed Eian.

  “Well, one thing I can’t take credit for is my Bobby’s barbecue-grill idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  Robert sat up on the sofa and turned to them. “He rented the open space next to the store and converted it to a barbecue-grill shop. New grills, books, accessories, the works. At that store, you buy it from us, we assemble it, and then we deliver it to your home, free of charge. It just opened a few weeks ago, and it’s going like gangbusters. The store has all of the newest barbecue equipment. Can you believe it? I’m so proud of him; I can’t begin to tell you. I told him I am going to finally semiretire. At the end of the month he’ll take over running the business.”

  The three of them sat there in a rare moment of silence.

  Ryan broke the silence by saying what they all were thinking. “Who would have believed this? Our business lives are doing well, Eian is embarking on a new baseball venture that he loves. I’
m going to take a long-needed break to France with Alexi. And now Bob is retiring.”

  “Semiretiring, bro,” the elder brother quickly chimed in.

  “Sorry, semiretiring. And once again, we all have women in our life that we care about. And we can salute Mary Kate for pushing us into action. We can all really celebrate at her wedding.”

  Robert was quiet and suddenly withdrawn.

  “What’s wrong, bro?” Ryan asked.

  “I’m not going to the wedding,” he said darkly.

  Agitated, Ryan was on his feet. “Is this because of that Campbell feud stuff? Give me a break, Bob. Get over it.”

  “Yeah? I have believed and lived my life all along as a Scotsman and a Macgregor. Always. And no self-respecting Macgregor would go to a Macgregor-Campbell wedding. It’s just not done. It’s like in Ireland during the bad times, unthinkable for a Catholic marrying a Protestant. Or someone in India marrying outside their caste. That’s all there is to it. I’m not going to the wedding, so drop it.”

  “I’m not dropping it. What else is going on here?”

  He paused and his eyes turned hard. “You don’t remember this because you were away at school, but a Dr. Neidlin Campbell was father’s attending physician. To this day, I think he let him die. I don’t think—I know—he let him die. He gave him too much morphine, and he died within an hour.”

  “Father was in so much pain, he was dying of cancer, for Christ’s sake, Robert. I remember the doctor—tall, distinguished, plain face, dark glasses? I’ll never forget him. Well, I think he was only trying to make Da comfortable during his last hours on earth. And his name could have been Macgregor, Murphy, Smith, or Parker, or whatever, but it had nothing at all to do with him being a Campbell.” Ryan paused to look at his two brothers. Silence. Tonight was a night for secrets.

  “My daughter and I are expecting this wedding to be a celebration of her marriage and the joining of two families, not about some old Scottish feud.”

  Silence.