by Mary Brady
“I’m sure she is.”
“Her daughter is a lovely child.”
“Too bad the father isn’t in the picture,” Shamus spoke up.
Hunter wondered who the father of the child was if not him, and knew he could easily find out if he wanted to. He did not. If he knew, he’d be looking around every corner for the man, wanting to punch the guy’s lights out.
They drank and talked, Hunter steering the conversation to Shamus and Connie’s children and grandchildren. Anything painless until enough time had passed that he could finish his drink and bow out.
When he finally drained the last swallow from his glass, he stood. “I’m going to leave the two of you alone. I’ve got some financial journals to catch up on.”
“Truly, it is time I retired.” Shamus laughed. “Because I’m weary of always trying to keep up with the world, as big as it is today. I don’t have any idea how you young people do it.”
“Specialization and lots of help,” Hunter said as he nabbed the empty glasses. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
In the kitchen alone, Hunter put the glasses in the dishwasher, then leaned both hands on the counter and dropped his head. There was no doubt about it. Unreasonably, he was disappointed he and Delainey had not made the child together.
* * *
ON SATURDAY MORNING, dark clouds hung low and threatening, but Delainey was happy for the two-day hiatus from the office.
She had a few more minutes before Brianna got up and so she sat in her breakfast nook drinking a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Dark days like today made her glad she had chosen to paint everything in her kitchen a cheery white with red-and-yellow accents.
After yesterday morning, she could use a little cheer. She had tried her hardest not to dread seeing Hunter at the office. She had, after all, done nothing wrong. She’d used poor judgment and had been stupid, but not wrong.
At work she’d kept expecting to see Hunter enter his office. When by ten o’clock it had not happened, she’d had enough waiting for the hammer to fall and contacted Shamus.
As she’d dropped the phone back into the cradle on her desk, she’d sat back and sighed with relief. Shamus had set up a series of out-of-the-office schmooze meetings for him and Hunter all day. With the pair out of the office, she’d been able to relax and do her work.
The boy in the file Carol had brought to her attention, Stevie Anning, was safe as far as she knew. She’d said a prayer he would stay that way.
She had finally told the office staff she had been accepted into law school to many congratulations and hugs, and Shirley had even rushed out and bought flowers.
She took a sip of her cooling coffee. We’ll have to finish this. Hunter’s parting words had kept her awake at night and haunted her during the day.
They would have to finish. She did not know what this “finishing” would entail, but there was always one person who came first. Her daughter.
If Hunter could see Brianna, he would find out for himself this dark-haired, dark-eyed and beautiful little girl could not possibly be his child. She thought carefully about arranging for him to see her without actually meeting her but decided there would be no harm in the two of them sharing a few words.
If Delainey and Hunter were to work at Morrison and Morrison, there would be occasion for him to meet Brianna.
Once he met her, talked to her, he’d forego the DNA testing. Brianna was very smart. Even at six, she would be able to figure out something was going on that the adults were not telling her.
Delainey leaned her elbows on the windowsill to watch the gray clouds lumber across the sky until they seemed to come to rest on the ocean.
If Hunter and Brianna met, all could be finished between Hunter and her, except for their relationship as colleagues.
Thinking Hunter and all could be finished in the same thought gave her a sinking feeling, as if something good and essential would disappear from inside her. They had been such great friends. Apparently, it was true—you could ruin a great friendship by trying to push a relationship beyond where it should go.
“Mommy, Mommy.” Brianna came running into the kitchen, her dark hair sticking up in a tangled knot on one side of her head, but she was dressed in a matching outfit and it was even appropriate winter attire, not a sundress or shorts. “I’m ready to go shopping for my material for my dress.”
“Oh, I think I’ll go back to bed, take a nap, maybe plant my garden first.”
“No, you won’t. No, you won’t. And you’re kidding me. It’s too cold for a garden.” Her daughter pulled on her arm until she got up from the table.
“Breakfast first, my darling one, and someone has to get that rat’s nest out of your hair.”
Brianna giggled, and put her hand to the usual spot where her hair tangled during sleep. “I’m making a fashion statement, Mommy.”
Now Delainey giggled. She had to admit she hadn’t giggled much as an adult until Brianna had started as a baby and the effect had been totally contagious. These days, her mother accused the two of them of being the same age, which made them giggle more until eventually even Grandmother started.
“Did you decide which pattern you want Grandma to use?”
“Can’t I get a new one?”
“Not this time. You’ve already got four to choose from. Maybe you can use one of the different collars or have Grandma choose the belted option for the pattern of that green dress she made last Christmas.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’d like that.”
“Besides, munchkin, we’re going to have to pick out new patterns soon enough because you’re growing.”
“I can’t wait.”
In the beginning of her pregnancy, she couldn’t imagine life with a child. Now quite the opposite was true.
They ate cereal while they chatted about school, the girl in Brianna’s class who’d transferred out when her parents left the state and how Brianna hoped she’d never have to leave.
“Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do.”
“Like eat lettuce?”
“Like eat lettuce,” Delainey agreed, but she was thinking what it might be like if her daughter’s father appeared and made demands.
“May I be excused?” Brianna asked, using the manners Delainey had taught her.
“Yes, you may,” Delainey answered, and the words seemed to launch her daughter from the chair. Brianna left her dishes in the sink and raced from the room.
Delainey finished her cereal and grapefruit and stared out the window again. Every day, especially when it was gloomy out, she got a sinking, hopeless kind of dread that Brianna’s father would show up, prove himself worthy and demand that he get his daughter half-time. Delainey had no idea how she’d react to going to bed at night knowing Brianna was not sleeping snugly in the next room. Or waking up in the morning and not seeing that bright smile.
The smile of another popped into her mind. Hunter was one of those few people like Brianna who had a big bright smile, one that could warm up a cold room. She frowned. Did Hunter use his anymore?
“Now, Mommy.”
Brianna was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with her coat, hat and boots on. In one hand she held Delainey’s coat and in the other her boots. An envelope with the dress pattern she had chosen was pinned under her chin. She looked so funny and so determined. “You are the cutest thing on the planet.”
Brianna stuck a hip out in what Delainey had come to realize was her “duh” pose, but the child wasn’t saying the word.
Delainey laughed. “I take that back—the cutest thing in the universe.”
“Now can we go?”
“You betcha.” Delainey donned her boots and when she went to put her coat on found her hat and mittens stuffed in the sleeve. “Is there anything bigge
r than the universe?”
“Mo-om-my.”
“Hey, isn’t it about time to go?” Delainey teased when she was dressed for the cold.
Brianna didn’t say anything this time. She just grabbed her mother’s sleeve and pulled with all her might.
Delainey let herself be tugged out of the kitchen and into the mudroom, where the washer and dryer lived. She nabbed the car keys from the key-holder strip mounted beside the back door and grabbed Brianna’s hand firmly as they went down the two steps into the garage.
When they were both tucked in, she drove down the hill to Church Street and north almost to the old church where Miller’s Variety Store had recently reopened after a three-year hiatus. A younger Miller ran it now and with more support from the town. Gregory Miller, the son of the previous owner, had agreed to come back if he would get some help. The town council had voted in a tax break, and he also had faith in the promises of the townsfolk to utilize the store from time to time instead of always using one of the national chain stores a couple hours away. Things were a bit more expensive, but they were available close to home, saving gas and time.
When they had come in for the grand opening at Miller’s, Brianna had looked at all the cloth available for making her dresses as if she were in a fairyland of granted wishes.
“Now, Mommy? Now?”
Delainey turned in her seat as she unfastened her seat belt. “Now.”
Brianna shrieked with delight as she reached around with both hands and unfastened her own seat belt. Then she climbed between the two front seats and threw her arms around Delainey’s neck. “I love you, Mommy. Can we go in now?”
“Can you please be so eager the next time I ask you to clean your room?”
“I will. I will.”
“Of course you will.” Delainey laughed and opened the door of the car into the stiff wind that had started last night and was supposed to bring snow anytime.
Brianna stopped short halfway up the sidewalk. “Oh, look, Mommy. There’s Brown Dog. Can I pet him? Here, Brown Dog!”
The big sleek mutt trotted up to Brianna and snuffled her cheek. She giggled and the dog trotted on.
The whole thing happened so quickly Delainey didn’t even have a chance to react, and she now belatedly grabbed for her daughter and hurried them into the store.
No one knew where the brown dog came from or where he lived. He was just there. As far as Delainey knew, he had never harmed a soul and most people suspected Mia Parker or someone from the Pirate’s Roost had taken up feeding him.
“Hi, Delainey. Hello, Miss Brianna.” Gregory Miller greeted them as they entered the front door. Too bad she truly wasn’t looking for the complication of a man in her life right now—sorry, Brianna. Gregory was good-looking in that casual bad-boy way, when a guy didn’t seem to notice or care that he turned heads.
“Hi, Mr. Miller.” Brianna gave the man a shy smile and ran toward her goal off to the far side of the store. The bolts of cloth stood in a row as if at attention, waiting for little girls’ fingers to touch them.
“Delainey, wait up a minute,” Gregory said when Delainey started to follow her daughter. “Hey, did you hear about them tearing down the Bradish house on Harbor View?”
“I heard the committee wasn’t able to stop it. If the original house, the real Joseph Bradish house, was still there, the state of Maine might have helped save it.” The newly formed committee of town council members and local citizens was trying to save as much of old Bailey’s Cove as possible. “Do you suppose they’re looking for treasure?”
“Maybe. The place is supposedly built on the same spot where a first mate from Liam Bailey’s ship had a house. Treasure lust still burns in the hearts of many around here. Every time an old building comes down, at least in the minds of some, our odds of finding some are getting better.”
“Let’s see...one hundred and ninety-seven or eight years since the pirate Liam Bailey was supposed to have landed and stayed. No one has even found a glimmer. I don’t know, Gregory.”
“Where’re you in it?”
“I’m in the ‘if there was a treasure, it’s gone’ camp.”
He laughed. “Me, I’m in the ‘if there is a treasure, let it stay forever hidden.’ The town can’t survive with its historical integrity intact if we get overrun by treasure hunters, but the allure remains, along with the tourist dollars, as long as no one finds it.”
“I like that point of view. Makes our town just a little notorious.”
She gave the area where Brianna had gone a lingering scan, located her daughter holding up a bolt of pink fabric and then turned back toward Gregory. He waved a woman over to join them. A statuesque woman approached. She had short red hair, deep mauve lipstick and a faux-leopard coat.
“This is Cynthia— I’m sorry. I didn’t get your last name,” Gregory said to the woman.
“Wenger. Cynthia Wenger.”
The woman stuck her hand out toward Delainey and Delainey took it firmly and shook. “I’m Delainey Talbot. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Cynthia is looking to talk to someone about the school system around here. Says she and her husband have two little girls and they’re thinking about moving here instead of living in Bangor, where her husband has gotten a job.” Gregory kept looking between the two women as he spoke, as if trying to judge their reaction. “They want to be near the sea and all.”
“Yes, I’d love to talk to you,” Cynthia said, and then looked at her phone. “Perhaps we can have coffee sometime?”
“Will you be in town Friday afternoon at four?” Delainey asked her.
“If you’re saying you can meet then, I’ll be here.”
“There is a restaurant up the street a little ways, Pirate’s Roost. They have great pastry.”
“I’ve seen it. I’ll be there at four on Friday.”
The woman smiled and headed for the rear door.
“Interesting for these parts,” Gregory said as Delainey watched a prospect for increasing the town’s population by four let herself out into the blustery cold.
“I hope she’s looking for real.” But it was too early to tell. Many came and looked. Few stayed.
Gregory looked over Delainey’s shoulder. “Hey, Mr. Morrison, I’ve got those AAA batteries for you,” he said, his words freezing Delainey to the spot.
She closed her eyes for a moment before she turned, but Hunter wasn’t looking at her when she faced him. He was looking toward the back of the store. Delainey moved in time to see Cynthia disappear with a flip of the tail of her long faux-leopard coat into a sleek metallic-blue car.
“Who was that?” he asked as he brought his gaze to Delainey’s.
“A woman looking to move here with her husband and kids,” Gregory said before Delainey could respond. “Wanted to have coffee with Delainey and chat about the schools.”
Hunter glanced at Gregory and then back at her. She shrugged. “That’s what she said.”
He didn’t let go of her gaze when she answered but seemed to be searching her face. For what? A lie? Why would she lie about something like that?
“Mommy, Mommy, I found one. I found one.”
Delainey looked down at her daughter and then up at Hunter. His expression didn’t change. She had no idea whether that was good or bad. But she could not help the flood of relief. She and Hunter would no longer need to have that other talk about how Brianna could not possibly be his child. This one peek would tell him.
“Come on. Come on,” her daughter said in an excited voice.
* * *
HUNTER STOOD WATCHING as a little girl grabbed hold of her mother’s coat sleeve with both hands.
Delainey reached down and took her daughter by the hand. “I’m almost finished here.”
It was then that the girl loo
ked up at him with round dark eyes. When he returned her stare, she moved behind her mother without letting go of Delainey’s hand.
“Brianna, sweetheart, I’d like you to meet someone new from my office.”
The girl peeked out at him.
“Hello.” Hunter found himself drawn to the little girl. He hadn’t much experience with children, but this one seemed harmless, even cute.
“This is Mr. Morrison.”
The little girl came out from behind her mother. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Morrison,” she said, never taking her gaze from him. Dark-haired. Dark eyes. As far as Hunter knew, he had only one relative who fit that description, the great-great-uncle who had been half of Morrison and Morrison. A bit of a black sheep in the family, he had left the Midwest to establish a law firm in Maine and dragged his brother with him. Delainey might be right. This might not be his child.
“I’m pleased to meet you, too, Brianna.” He smiled at her.
“Are you a friend of my mommy’s?”
Hunter looked at Delainey.
“Mr. Morrison and I went to school together.”
“Did you date in school?”
Delainey laughed nervously. “We did homework together.”
Brianna wrinkled her nose as she slid back behind her mother.
“We’re here buying fabric for a dress,” Delainey explained matter-of-factly, giving away nothing of what she was feeling about this unexpected meeting.
“A beautiful dress for a wedding,” came a high voice from behind Delainey.
“I’d better let you get at it,” he said, speculating whether Brianna’s father appreciated what he had given up in letting go of her and Delainey.
He nodded to Delainey but didn’t turn away.
“It was nice to see you, Hunter,” Delainey said. Her gaze paused on his face as if she was going to say something, and then she turned and fled with her little girl toward the other side of the store.
Delainey’s child was adorable. What else could he expect?
“Is this all?” the store owner asked, holding up the package of batteries.