“When you said you had a big family I didn’t realize it was that big. I’ll never remember all that. How many brothers and sisters do you have total and are you the only one that left the nest?”
“There are seven of us total. Katherine, that’s Kate, is the oldest. She has her own place with her husband, Ant, and they are expecting their fourth kid soon. Colin’s been away for years. He’s the oldest brother. He left for college right after he graduated.
“Finn works with my Uncle Paulie and my dad as a logger, but Luke, his twin, went away to Notre Dame for four years on a football scholarship. He never planned on returning home, but after he hurt his knee he kind of just showed up. I think eventually, once he gets over his hurt pride and bruised ego, he’ll take off again.
“Kelly, I guess, is our black sheep. He never showed any interest in leaving, but I wouldn’t be surprised if one day he suddenly declared he was going to drift across country for the pure novelty of it. And Sheilagh, well, hopefully she’s mellowed out, but from what my mom tells me I don’t think that’s the case. She’s graduating this year.”
“What do you mean mellowed out?”
He laughed.
“Ever hear the saying ‘if you want trouble find yourself a redhead’? That’s Sheilagh. It’s her life’s ambition to prove that redheads truly have more fun. Don’t let her intimidate you though. She acts hard, but she’s really a marshmallow on the inside.”
“Oh. Is she planning on going to college in the fall?”
“Who knows? Do yourself a favor and don’t bring it up in front of my dad. Sheilagh’s crazy smart. She was accepted at Princeton, Catholic U., and Penn State Main. She won a grant for the school of her choosing that’ll cover a huge part of her tuition, which in a family of seven kids is nothing to sneeze at.”
“So which one do you think she’ll choose?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t think she’ll choose any of them. She’s still figuring out what she wants to do and she doesn’t want to leave home until she’s sure. See, at home, Sheilagh’s a force to be reckoned with, but take her out of her fish bowl and she’s just a scared little girl from a redneck town.”
“So you think she’s nervous?”
Braydon twisted his lips and tilted his head in consideration. “Yes, but she’ll never admit it. Girl’s got more guts than brains and for a girl who’s IQ’s been off the charts since elementary school that’s saying a lot.”
“And what about Kelly? Does she work?”
“First of all, Kelly’s a guy and he makes sure anything with female parts is completely aware of it. He may be lacking in ambition, but he has an overabundance of confidence.”
“You say that as if you don’t get along with him.”
“Kelly’s fine, but sometimes it gets old, you know? Like, grow up already. He’s twenty-two, works at my aunt and uncle's bar, sleeps in a different bed almost every night, and never takes anything seriously.”
Sam was cataloging everything Braydon said in her mind. If she was going to be spending three weeks with the McCulloughs she wanted to be prepared. There was nothing worse than living with people whose names she constantly confused.
“And who are the twins?”
“Luke and Finn. They’re identical, but Luke’s a little more built from playing sports all his life. He’s your typical athlete, star quarterback in high school, and in a small community that equates to being the town hero. He was homecoming king, dated the prom queen until he left for college, plays hard and takes losing harder. He used to be the go to guy when you needed to laugh, but since he hurt his knee he’s been in kind of a mood. He would’ve been recruited to the pros. You'll see. When he plays sports from time to time, there’s this fire in his eyes, like a passion. That’s still there, but he’ll never go big now. His field injury can’t take the relentless pressure. He went from being predicted as the upcoming draft sensation to a risk factor no one would gamble on.”
“That’s a shame. Does he have any other skills?”
“Not really. Football was his life. Once that got taken away from him he kind of pulled into himself. When he graduated and came home he moved right into the barn and began fixing it up as an apartment. He never went back to his old room. I think all the trophies and newspaper clippings were an ugly reminder for him. Once my mom realized he wouldn’t be living there anymore she boxed up all his awards and turned his room into a nursery for my nieces and nephew.”
“Kate’s kids?”
“Yup. Frankie, Skylar, and Hannah. You’ll meet them tomorrow. Katherine probably is spending the night because she knows I’m coming home.”
“So you’re close to your older sister.”
“Yeah. Kate’s almost ten years older than me so she’s always favored me. Where Colin and the twins were close enough to her age to fight with her like true siblings, I fell into that perfect era of her life where she wanted a real baby to nurture. My sister was born to be a mother. She’ll probably have a baseball team of children someday.”
Braydon wore an affectionate smile as he spoke of his older sister. He obviously loved her very much. As if he could read her thoughts he admitted, “She spoils me rotten.”
“And what about the other twin?”
“Finn? Finn’s quiet. He likes to read and mostly keeps to himself. He was sort of in the transition of moving in with Erin, but I guess that didn’t work out. I don’t think anyone’s really disappointed. She didn’t really mesh with the family. We’re pretty close, so things like that matter.”
Sam was almost starting to relax until she considered about what would happen if the McCulloughs didn’t mesh with her. Sensing her tension Braydon squeezed her leg and reassured, “Don’t worry. They’ll love you.”
He adjusted the volume of the radio and Sam assumed he was done with her inquisition for now. She settled back into her seat and stared out the windshield as they drove into the black night. Worried what his family would think of her, she replayed each of his siblings’ characteristics in her head, committing them to memory, and hoped she’d make a good impression.
Her ears popped and although she couldn’t see past her reflection and the glow of interior lights in the car window, her equilibrium told her they were deep in the mountains. She covertly watched Braydon as he navigated off the highway and onto a dark patch of road.
His wavy blond hair fell onto his forehead in unruly curls Sam imagined most women would find it tempting to run their fingers through. His pale blue eyes traveled over the road, and in the dimness of the car his five o’clock shadow showed darkest at the thin cleft of his chin. He was one of those peculiarly handsome metropolitan men that could model department store sweaters and get away with wearing pink. He was masculine enough that one could actually call him pretty. It was frustrating kissing someone you knew was prettier than yourself.
Sam was never referred to as anything beyond cute. She supposed she had that American girl-next-door thing going for her. Plain, straight brown hair, boring brown eyes, skin that only burned and freckled in the sun, and dusty colored eyelashes. By the time she was sixteen, she already accepted that no amount of makeup would hide the freckles that covered the crests of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She was plain, pure and simple. She wondered if Braydon’s family would question what he was doing with such a girl.
She didn’t even own makeup. She wore Chap Stick, but she didn’t think that counted. Going to school in the more metro section of Philadelphia brought out a lot of impulses to appear more sophisticated, but it was too much, on top of school and worrying about her parents, to keep up with the Joneses as well.
She’d resigned herself to being a cotton-blend kind of girl. While the rest of the world fought to squeeze their hips into skinny jeans, Sam decided her worn in boot cut ones were just fine. They were only clothes. What mattered was what was on the inside.
But if that was true, why was she suddenly wishing she brought a more impressive wardrobe with her to mee
t the McCulloughs? She was being ridiculous. Having never suffered from superficial insecurities before, it didn’t make sense, at age twenty-four to give such silly doubts space in her mind. She supposed it was hearing Braydon refer to her earlier as his girlfriend that triggered this unusual train of thought.
Was she his girlfriend? He hadn’t asked her out. They hadn’t slept together. When she met him four months ago he asked her if she was going to an event being sponsored by Villanova at the student union building. She was and of course told him so.
It was through the interference of mutual friend that she found herself sitting next to Braydon for the day of the event. A week later they were having lunch together at a local brewery, but, again, friends had orchestrated their meeting. It wasn’t until they’d been set up several times that Braydon finally asked for her number. And once he had her number it took a week for him to use it.
At that point there was no lengthy phone call that left her exhausted the next morning or with butterflies in the pit of her stomach. No. When he’d used her phone number it was simply to text her and ask what time she was heading to the cafeteria for dinner on a random night. Their lackluster acquaintance progressed as such over the following weeks.
She wasn’t dense and she wasn’t sending mixed signals, so of course she was surprised that Braydon wanted her to come home with him. Apparently he felt a stronger connection, or at least was assuming one, more than anything she felt between the two of them so far. Not to say the possibility of a strong connection didn’t exist Sam just hadn’t sensed it yet. Perhaps these upcoming weeks would deepen their connection. She should probably be nervous at the possibility of becoming more with Braydon, but all she could muster was a curious sense of indifference. She liked him, but their chemistry was…manageable. She wasn’t concerned with losing herself in the moment or having a sudden attack of butterflies in her stomach. Maybe there was something wrong with her.
She enjoyed Braydon’s company, but the bottom line was that she was a realist. They simply hadn’t spent enough time together to truly know one and other and, as far as casual sex, well, Samantha had never been that type of girl.
She’d be willing to see how things progressed, but she wasn’t some hard-up romantic prepared to settle for the shell of a relationship lacking any depth. If Braydon expected her to actually be his girlfriend then he’d have to open up a bit more, let her see what exactly was ticking in that head of his. Because, to be perfectly honest, half the time Sam had no idea what he was thinking. It wasn’t until he walked her back to her apartment late one night at school and kissed her that she realized they were courting more than a friendship.
After that night Braydon frequently slipped in a kiss here and an affectionate pat there, but it was all very meaningless in the grand scheme of things. It was nothing she thought to worry about. Until now.
She was graduating at the end of summer and Braydon still had a year to go. Whatever they were entertaining for the time being, Sam didn’t see it lasting. She was surprised he even made the offer for her to come with him for their break.
She felt mildly like a snob for being so taken off guard by the invitation. Braydon seemed to genuinely care that she’d be going home to an empty house if she went to her own home. She hadn’t given much thought as to how he would spend the three weeks. She supposed coming from a large family like he did, the idea of being alone was intolerable to him. She was used to the solitude.
Since she was fourteen, it had been just her and her parents. They were close, but never overbearing. After her father suffered a massive heart attack two years ago, he gave up his job at the mill and her mother turned in her resignation at the local elementary school and the two of them finally followed their lifelong dream of opening a bed and breakfast.
The change of pace suited them. It kept them occupied with frequent bouts of business yet also allowed them to schedule time for themselves. This was the first time Sam could ever recall seeing her parents take time for an extended vacation together. It was good for them and Sam was glad for it. If she would've gone home her mother would have fretted over not being there with her daughter and her worrying would’ve spoiled their trip. It was better for everyone that she was spending this time in the mountains with Braydon. Her mother was pleased to hear Sam would use this time with friends. Sam didn’t see the necessity in telling her mother Braydon was little more than a stranger.
She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew the lulling, paved back roads and undulating hills gave way to a gravelly drive worn by time and weathered with deep ruts.
“We’re here.” Sam heard the exhaustion in Braydon’s voice.
“What time is it?”
“Eleven-thirty. My mom will be waiting for us, but everyone else is probably asleep by now.”
Sam reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out her Chap Stick. After rubbing some on her lips she ran her fingers through her hair. Her belly flip-flopped with anxiety and she laced her fingers together over her lap so not to give away her nervousness.
Everything was black. If she squinted she could vaguely make out a canopy of evergreens trimming the drive. Stars winked in and out of the dark feathery green covering. She looked ahead, but there was only blackness. They followed a bend in the path and she gasped. They were at a higher altitude, but good grief she never saw so many stars before in her life. It was as though she could catch one if she only stood on her tiptoes. And there were so many, surely the gods wouldn’t mind if she slipped one into her pocket.
Her fanciful thoughts were distracted when a large house came into view. The structure was impressive even when its size was partially cloaked by shadows. Only a few windows glowed here and there and there was a porch light burning, illuminating a wide set of wooden steps.
Evenly spaced pillars portioned out a long wraparound porch encased in a spindled railing. She suddenly remembered a dollhouse she and her sister used to play with as children, but quickly pushed the thought away. This was not a time to think about her childhood. She needed to stay focused and in charge of her emotions.
Braydon parked behind a Jeep Cherokee that appeared to be in surprisingly good shape considering the model was over twenty years old. He plucked the keys from the ignition and let out a groaning stretch. “Why don’t we head in and say hi then I’ll come back and grab our bags?”
Sam nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt. They’d been in the car for hours and her legs were screaming for her to stand up and stretch. Braydon opened his door and Sam followed suit. She climbed out and extended her arms far over her head and followed Braydon toward the house.
There was almost a deafening hum of wildlife filling the air. The combination of crickets chirping and locusts trilling in such a symphony-like roar told her how expansive the dark woods behind them were.
She wished it were daylight so she could see more of her surroundings. Subconsciously, her mind had already decided the McCullough home was beautiful. The moment she realized it was a traditional log cabin she admitted it was love at first sight. When had she become such a slut for architecture? She supposed it was the novelty of a real life log cabin that tapped into some nostalgic memory of Lincoln Logs and Little House on the Prairie and in turn released a secreted, unrequited longing for country living. Suddenly excited to be there, she wanted to thank Braydon for bringing her.
The heavy wood door at the top of the steps opened and a woman with fiery copper hair stood smiling with her hands clasped tightly at her heart. “You’re here!”
Braydon smiled.
“Hi, Mum. Sorry we’re so late. We couldn’t leave until almost eight o’clock.”
She waved away his excuses and pulled him into an affectionate embrace. She was no small woman, yet the sigh she emitted when hugging her son told Sam she was soft and loving despite her aggressive handling of others. When she had her fill she stepped back and held Braydon at arm’s length, her wide fingers holding him in place.
“Yo
u’re in need of a haircut, you are,” she rebuked, her sternness bellied by her cheery expression and the glassy sheen of merriment dancing in her eyes.
“Do you not like my hair, Mum?”
The sudden change in Braydon’s speech caused Sam to do a double take. The cadence of his words picked up a clipped lilt and sounded almost Gaelic. Mrs. McCullough laughed and smacked an affectionate kiss on her son’s cheek.
“Don’t you go getting too cheeky now. Kelly will get jealous. You know how he likes to pretend he’s the rogue of the clan.”
“How is Kelly?”
Mrs. McCullough smirked and rolled her eyes as if she were laughing over a well-known secret. “There’s enough time to talk about your brother and his reprobate ways later. For now why don’t you introduce me to this lovely lassie?”
They turned and faced Sam as Braydon said, “Mum, this is Samantha Dougherty.”
“Dougherty.” Mrs. McCullough pronounced her name the proper Irish way sounding like Doe-hearty, lacking the hard G most American’s used when speaking the name. “Well, that’s a good strong Irish name. I believe you’ll fit in nicely around here.”
Before Sam had a chance to answer, she was smothered in the woman’s arms and being hugged near the point of suffocation. When Sam was released she quickly grasped the railing behind her to prevent her body from stumbling down the steps.
“Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. McCullough.”
“Oh pish, you call me Maureen, love. Let’s head on inside; it’s hot out tonight.”
“Why’s it so warm here? I was expecting it to be at least twenty degrees cooler than the city.” Braydon commented as they followed Mrs. McCullough, no, Maureen, into the house.
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