It would easily be two hours before he had anything clean to wear, but hopefully he could still get dressed in time to get a meal at Anna’s. As soon as the laundry was going, he went and found his phone.
Which was dead.
“I can’t seem to catch a break here,” he huffed as he plugged the thing in and looked over at the house phone mounted on the wall. For all the times he mocked his folks for still having a landline, it looked like it was certainly going to come in handy right now.
The cordless phone felt large and awkward in his hand and it made him laugh.
Then he realized he didn’t know Anna’s number. On his cell phone, he pulled up her name and hit Send. Now what was he supposed to do?
With a huff of annoyance, he hung the phone back up on the wall. It wouldn’t hurt to wait until he could look up his sister’s number.
So with no clean clothes and no phone, what was he supposed to do? He breathed in deeply—and then he knew.
Clean the damn house.
It wasn’t an easy task to accomplish with one arm, but he did the best he could. He loaded the dishwasher, collected all the trash and put it by the front door—taking it out required more than a bathrobe to cover himself—wiped down the kitchen counter, and even dusted the coffee table where he’d been eating most of his meals. When he was done, it was time to change over the laundry. Stepping back into the living room, he felt good, like he’d accomplished something.
“One more thing,” he murmured. He grabbed a can of air freshener from the kitchen and sprayed the entire area for good measure. After the air cleared a bit, he inhaled deeply and let it out with a smile. “Way better.”
So the house was picked up, his clothes were drying, and all that was left was to call Anna and see if he could join them for dinner.
“Hey!” she said happily when she answered the phone. “How are you doing?”
He smiled. “I’m doing good. Everything’s great. Everything’s fine here.”
“Uh-huh…”
“How about you? How are you doing? How are the kids?”
She hesitated for a second. “We’re all good.”
“And Quinn? Is…is he doing okay? Business doing well?”
“Bobby?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you tired of your own company?” she asked and he could hear the amusement in her voice.
“Yes,” he admitted with a small laugh. “You have no idea.”
“I should make you suffer a little,” she said, sounding firm. “Five days and not one phone call. I was worried sick, but I was trying to be respectful. I figured one of us should be.”
Her guilt trips always worked. “I know, I know. And I’m sorry. I guess…I don’t know. I think I sort of lost track of time. If it makes you feel any better, it’s been a rough day because of it.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
He explained about the trash, the house, the smell, his phone, the laundry—and she laughed harder and harder by the minute. “Yeah, well…the place is clean, the trash will go out as soon as I have dry clothes, and I’ve learned my lesson. Happy?”
“More than you know.” She paused. “Have you heard from Mom and Dad at all?”
“They’re on a cruise, Anna. I doubt they’re even thinking about home.”
“Hmm…maybe. I just thought they would have called to check in. Plus, I’m dying to hear about all the fun they’re having.”
He made a noncommittal sound.
“Although, I guess we’ll hear all about it at the big Shaughnessy barbecue when they get back,” Anna said.
“What barbecue? When?”
“The Sunday right after they get back. Ian said he wanted everyone to come over since this is the longest he’s ever been away on vacation.” She laughed. “So everyone will be there. You know, like we always do.”
“And that includes me?” he asked with mild disbelief.
“Since when are you not included in family stuff?”
She had a point, and he was smart enough not to argue. “Okay, fine. Big barbecue. Yay, me.” That was a meal with more than himself for company ten days from now, but what about tonight?
“Oh, and Bobby?”
“Hmm?”
“Quinn will pick you up on his way home tonight. We’re having burgers, corn on the cob, and a big salad for dinner. If you’re nice, I’ll make brownies for dessert.”
His mouth was already watering. “You’re a lifesaver, Anna. You know that, right?”
“I do now.”
Chapter 2
“Bobby! We’re heading over to Ian’s! Are you coming?” his mother yelled from the kitchen.
Was he? He still wasn’t sure. Even after two weeks of relative solitude, right now the last thing he wanted to do was socialize. His arm was still in a sling after his doctor’s appointment the previous Friday, and they weren’t impressed with his motor function in his left hand. Bobby had tried to reason that his motor skills would be much better if he was allowed to have his arm out of the sling more.
The doctor disagreed.
He couldn’t close his left hand all the way to a fist, and there was more tingling than actual feeling in his arm.
Neither were good signs.
So while he’d welcomed his parents home the day before with a big smile, and listened to all their stories about what a great time they’d had on the cruise, that was about the extent of his ability to put on a happy face. He was angry, disappointed, and basically didn’t want to talk to anyone.
“Bobby?” she called up again.
“I’ll head over later!” he called back, unwilling even to get up off his bed. Neither parent said anything else. A few minutes later, he heard the front door close and let out a long breath. He knew they were disappointed in him, and to be honest, he was disappointed in himself. Mainly because he wasn’t healing fast enough.
Maybe he should go back to his own apartment in Myrtle Beach. Maybe being here, surrounded by his parents and family, was doing more harm than good. He was being coddled and cared for, and it was making him lazy. If he was back at his place, he’d be forced to do more for himself and maybe—just maybe—he’d be able to speed up his recovery.
Mind made up, Bobby looked around the room. It was a mess—that was a given—but with some effort, he could get his laundry done and pack. Then, once his parents were back, he could talk to his father about driving him home in the morning. Yes. That was what he wanted to do. It was time to stop feeling sorry for himself and start being an active participant in his recovery. If he wanted to go back to work full-time in his regular position, he needed to take this seriously.
Rehab? He’d do it. He wasn’t afraid of hard work or a challenge, but he had most certainly gotten lazy and it was time for that to end.
Standing, he began collecting clothes and throwing them in the hamper. With the first load going in the laundry room, he straightened up. No doubt his mother would strip his room down after he left and scrub it from top to bottom, so he didn’t need to go crazy, but he still needed to put in the effort to clear off the surfaces and throw out any trash.
Moving around the house, he picked up his personal items and organized his packing. Within an hour, he’d made a pretty good dent in it all. Time for a break. He went down to the kitchen and grabbed a beer before stepping outside onto the back deck for a little fresh air.
Off in the distance he could hear laughter. The Shaughnessys’ yard was right on the other side of the fence. He could hear the kids chasing each other and squealing with laughter, adult voices calling for them to calm down. He smiled, remembering the days when he was one of those kids. This had been a great place to grow up, lots of great memories. And at any other time in his life, he’d be seriously thrilled to be here. But until he got himself together and healed, this wasn’t working for him
.
Glancing over at the yard, he saw the smoke billowing from the barbecue and he could smell all the great things they were cooking. Their cookouts were always the same menu—burgers, hot dogs, chicken. On top of that, his mom had made her famous macaroni salad, along with several cakes. No doubt Anna made her potato salad, too. All of his favorites were just a few yards away. Taking a swig of his beer, Bobby had to wonder what harm it would do to just go over and grab something to eat and say hello? He didn’t have to stay long, and really, it was the polite thing to do.
His stomach growled just then—manners really had nothing to do with it.
Turning, he walked back into the house, pulled on a pair of sneakers, and made sure he didn’t look too disheveled. At closer inspection he noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and wistfully longed for a good night’s sleep where he could toss and turn and move around as much as he wanted without setting his shoulder on fire.
“Soon,” he said to himself. “Soon.”
Grabbing his sunglasses, he put them on and made his way across the front yard to the Shaughnessys’. Stepping into their backyard through the side gate, he saw that just about everyone was there—Aidan and Zoe, Hugh and Aubrey, Quinn and Anna, and Owen and Brooke—along with all their kids. For a moment he stood by the gate and just took it all in.
His parents were talking with Ian and Martha and…some other couple. Who were they? Then he remembered the faces he’d caught through the car window—Ian’s cousins. The third couple who’d gone on the cruise.
“Hey! Look who decided to join us!” his sister called out with a smile, making her way over to him. She had Bailey in her arms and he silently prayed she wouldn’t ask him to hold her. When she reached him, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “We were wondering if you were going to come over.”
“Yeah, well…you know. Food.”
Anna laughed. “You’re sounding a little caveman-ish. You need to be among people again.” Then she took him by the hand and led him into the yard. Everyone called out a greeting and he smiled and waved.
It was controlled chaos, a dozen different things going on—kids playing, people eating, a game of basketball in the corner of the yard—and right in the middle of it all, his brother-in-law loudly telling a story about one of his latest classic car rehabs.
Typical. When Quinn Shaughnessy had an audience, he loved to brag on himself.
“Go and make yourself a plate,” Anna said from beside him. “I’ll grab you a beer.”
“Thanks.” Walking over to the long table covered in food, he made small talk with Hugh Shaughnessy.
“How are you feeling?” Hugh asked.
Bobby shrugged, then winced. “I’m healing at a snail’s pace,” he responded, while internally cursing how awkward it was to pile food on his carefully balanced plate while making his way down the line one-handed.
Hugh chuckled. “You never were very patient. These things take time, right?”
He nodded, because saying anything would run the risk of him making a snarky comment, and Hugh didn’t deserve that. “What about you? What’s new with you and the family?”
“We’re waiting on a baby,” he said, smiling. “If all goes as planned, we should be expecting a call in another six weeks.”
Bobby looked up with wide eyes. “Seriously? That’s awesome!” He put his plate down and clapped Hugh on the shoulder. “Congratulations! I thought adoptions took much longer.”
Hugh shrugged. “The entire process feels that way. Between all the paperwork and waiting for a match, it feels like it’s been forever. But now we’re in major countdown mode.”
“Do you know what you’re…you know…having?”
“A girl,” he said, his smile growing. “The sonogram showed a girl. Aubrey’s thrilled. Hell, I’m thrilled!”
“I’m happy for you, Hugh. Really, that’s great news!” Before he could say anything else, Aubrey called out for Hugh to bring another hot dog for their son Connor. Bobby stood there and watched his friend join his family.
With a sigh, he made his way slowly toward the end of the table, taking a little of this and a little of that as he went. The closer he got to the end, the louder Quinn was. He rolled his eyes and reached for a couple of brownies to top off his mountain of food.
“Seriously, is he always like this?” he heard someone ask.
Standing off to the left was a woman he’d never seen before. He studied her for a moment, unsure if she was talking to him or to herself. Then she looked at him and for a second, Bobby couldn’t breathe.
Blue eyes so dark they were almost black stared up at him. Her eyes were wide without trying and he was thankful for his sunglasses, because he knew he was staring. She had dark, wavy hair that rested on her bare shoulders. She wasn’t petite, but she was certainly shorter than him by about six or seven inches, and she had the perfect amount of curves.
His mouth instantly went dry.
“I mean, he hasn’t stopped talking about himself for the last twenty minutes,” she said with a conspirator’s grin, her voice low and just a little husky with a hint of humor. She looked at Quinn and then back at Bobby. “Someone should really tell him to shut it for a while and give other people a chance to talk.”
Unable to help himself, he laughed—an honest to goodness laugh—and it felt great.
“Yeah, well, if you’ve known Quinn for any amount of time, then you know this is his thing. All the time.”
“It’s pretty annoying.” She crossed her arms over her middle, the action causing her breasts to lift just a bit.
He was going to need a cold shower in a minute.
Not only was this woman beautiful and sassy, she had excellent judgment. Normally he was the only one who made comments about how annoying his brother-in-law was—it was nice to have someone on his side for once. It felt like he had a sexy partner in crime and they were sharing a private joke. It was pretty damn awesome.
Clearing his throat and forcing himself to look away, he said, “Believe me, I know. I’ve been trying to tell him to shut it for years, but he’s yet to listen.”
She shook her head. “His wife must have the patience of a saint.”
“She does.”
Then she smiled at him and he knew he needed to move away before he did something stupid like—
No sooner had the thought entered his mind than he began to lose his grip on his plate. It tilted and the food was going to fall, but he couldn’t do anything about it. His left hand wouldn’t cooperate, and between that and the sling, he was about to embarrass himself.
“Oh! Let me help you!” she said, instantly reaching out and saving his plate. Holding it for him, she said, “Where are you sitting? I can carry it over for you.” She smiled again, and this time he wasn’t happy about it at all.
With nothing more than a murmured “excuse me,” he turned and walked out of the yard. He knew people were watching, some even called after him, but he didn’t care. He cursed under his breath and called himself every kind of name in the book, but it didn’t do a thing to make him feel any better. He was so useless, so pathetic, that he couldn’t hold on to a paper plate on his own? This was what he’d been reduced to? And on top of that, he had to find that out in front of a beautiful woman? How unfair was that?
He was pulling open the front door of his parents’ house when his father caught up to him and held the door so he couldn’t move it. Jack Hannigan wasn’t a small man—Bobby took after him in height, but his father was built more like a linebacker. “Bobby? You okay?”
Suddenly it was all just too much. He turned and he snapped. “No! No, I’m not all right, Dad! As a matter of fact, I’m the opposite of all right! I’m tired of this!” He motioned to his arm, the sling, his shoulder. “I have hit my limit, okay? I’ve had enough of not being able to do things for myself!”
He a
ssumed his father would try to calm him down.
He assumed wrong.
“Really? So what are you going to do about it?” his father asked. “All this time you’ve been recovering, I’ve been waiting for you to be a little proactive, but instead you’ve moped around and griped and complained. You’re making everyone crazy!”
“I’m making…?” he sputtered.
“Yes, you’re making,” his father threw his words back at him. “At first we were all sympathetic, but I have to tell you, Son, you’re exhausting us. You’re healing exactly as the doctors said you would. There haven’t been any surprises. Even Friday’s appointment shouldn’t have been news to you. You live with yourself every damn day—you can’t honestly stand here and say you were surprised when the doctor told you that you didn’t have great mobility!”
He had a point.
Bobby was about to argue, just on principle, but his father cut him off.
“I get that you’re frustrated, son. I do, and I’m sorry. This is an awful situation and I can’t even begin to imagine how disappointed you are—”
“No, you can’t.”
“But that doesn’t give you the right to be rude or disrespectful. You need to go and apologize to Teagan.”
For a minute, Bobby could only stare. “Who?”
“Teagan. She was the one you left holding your plate while you stomped off. Seems to me she was just trying to help you—after you made a glutton out of yourself with that mountain of food, I might add—and you rudely left her standing there with it.”
“First of all, I wasn’t being a glutton, and…wait, who the hell is Teagan?”
“I just told you.”
“No, no, I get that, but I mean, who is she? How does she know the Shaughnessys?”
“James and Catherine—Ian’s cousin and his wife who went on the cruise with us—she’s their daughter. They all just moved here.”
“Oh.”
“And Teagan’s renting Anna’s old place.”
Tangled Up in You Page 4