Читать книгу Willow Brook Road - Sherryl Woods - Страница 10
ОглавлениеSam put the dinner he’d ordered at O’Brien’s into the backseat of his SUV next to Bobby. The boy had been sleeping while he was talking to Carrie Winters, but he was wide-awake now and looking around with a curious expression.
“Are we home yet?” he asked Sam, his tone plaintive.
“Just about, buddy. We’ll be home in a couple of minutes. I stopped long enough to pick up some dinner for us.”
“Where? I don’t see McDonald’s.”
Sam pointed to O’Brien’s. “See the restaurant right across the street? Dinner came from there and it’s going to be delicious. I’m told there might even be some homemade cookies in the bag for dessert.”
“How come you didn’t take me with you?”
“You were sleeping.”
Bobby’s expression turned serious. “Mommy never left me alone in the car. She said it was too dangerous, even when I told her I was big enough to take care of myself.”
Once again, all of his shortcomings as a prospective father slapped Sam in the face. He’d discovered that no one could induce guilt quite like a six-year-old...except, perhaps, an indignant, red-haired stranger.
“Your mom was absolutely right, but you were just a few yards away and right where I could see you the whole time I was inside the restaurant,” Sam said in his own defense. He wondered if that sounded as hollow to Bobby as it obviously had to Carrie Winters?
“And Chesapeake Shores is a lot safer than the city, even one as safe as Louisville,” he added for good measure.
“Does that mean I can play outside by myself?” Bobby asked hopefully. “Mommy never let me do that. She said I always had to be with a grown-up.”
That sounded just like Laurel, Sam thought. As far back as he could remember she’d been making up rules and issuing orders. As a kid he’d resented it, but with the hindsight of maturity, he could see that she’d been trying to make up for the chaos of their family life. It had been her self-assigned task to protect him. Recalling how often they’d butted heads and recognizing now how good her intentions had been brought the sting of tears to his eyes. How had he let some stupid argument come between them?
“We’ll have to work that out,” Sam hedged, fighting tears as he drove along the curving, waterfront road to the Inn at Eagle Point. He’d vowed not to show any sign of weakness in front of his nephew. Bobby needed to believe in him.
“First we need to get you enrolled in school, so you can make lots of new friends this fall,” Sam continued, injecting an upbeat note into his voice. “And we need to find a real house so you can have your own room and maybe even a big yard to play in.”
Bobby’s eyes widened. “You don’t live in a house?”
“Not yet. I just moved here, remember? I’m staying at an inn. It looks just like a great big house, though.”
“I went to a hotel once. Is it like that?” His eyes brightened with excitement. “Does it have room service?”
“I haven’t tried it, but I imagine it does. We can check that out in the morning. I know it has a dining room with lots of windows so you can see the bay and all the big birds like osprey and eagles. I can say for a fact that the pancakes are really, really good.”
The last hint of Bobby’s uncertainty vanished completely. “I love pancakes,” he said with a sigh of satisfaction. “Mommy only made them on Sundays, though.”
“Well, here you can have them any day you want them,” Sam promised. “At least as long as we’re at the inn.”
His nephew fell silent until they pulled into the parking lot of the inn. “Wow! It’s the biggest house ever! Can I play in the yard? Can we go swimming?” His eyes grew even bigger. “It even has a pool. I never, ever want to leave here.”
Sam chuckled at his sudden burst of enthusiasm. It had been in short supply for the past couple of weeks as Sam had dealt with the details of the funeral, putting his sister’s house up for sale, and facing the shocking news that he’d been named Bobby’s guardian. His sister’s in-laws had threatened to fight him for custody until the lawyer had convinced them the will was airtight and that Sam had the energy to cope with an inquisitive, lively six-year-old, something a retired couple in their sixties and living on a fixed income might not be able to handle.
“I’m afraid we can’t stay here forever,” he told Bobby. “It costs a lot of money, but I promise you we’ll pick a house that you’re going to love just as much. You can help me decide on the right one.”
A familiar frown settled on Bobby’s face and Sam’s stomach tied itself into knots. He could feel the disappointment radiating from the backseat. How many times was he destined to let this boy down before everyone realized what a mistake had been made in giving him custody?
“Sam?” Bobby whispered hesitantly.
Sam turned and saw tears dampening Bobby’s round cheeks and realized this was about more than staying at the inn. “What, buddy?”
“If we keep moving, how are Mommy and Daddy going to find us?”
Sam’s heart twisted. “We talked about that, remember? Your mommy and daddy can’t come back. They’re in heaven.”
“But you said that even in heaven, they’d always be looking out for me. How are they going to find me?” he asked, his expression way too serious and worried for a child his age.
Sam had never felt more out of his depth in his life. “That’s the thing about heaven,” he said eventually, praying he was getting it right. “The people we love who live there can see us wherever we are. Your mom and dad will always know exactly where you are and when they asked me to take care of you, they knew I was in Chesapeake Shores.”
“Have they been here?”
“No, but I’ll bet they have this amazing GPS thing in heaven and it’s already guided them right here.”
“Really?”
Sam nodded, though he was certain of no such thing. He wanted to believe. He really did. But what sort of god took away a little boy’s parents and left him all alone with an uncle who didn’t have a clue about how to raise himself, much less a child? Even as those words crossed his mind, he remembered Laurel saying much the same thing, telling him it was time to stop his restless roaming and grow up. He’d accused her—yet, again—of trying to control him. The heated exchange, one of many in a similar vein, had occurred months ago, but it had been the last straw. After that he’d simply avoided taking his sister’s calls, leaving messages when he’d known she wouldn’t be home so she wouldn’t worry, but not wanting to risk another lecture on his flaws. Despite the distance that had grown between them, she’d never stopped texting pictures of Bobby or sending notes on special occasions. To her credit, she’d done all she could to keep the lines of communication open, while he’d behaved like a spoiled jerk. He’d live with that regret the rest of his life.
Sam climbed out of the car, then opened the back door to help Bobby out of his booster seat, but the boy had already scrambled free. He raced across the wide expanse of green lawn toward the water, then turned back just as Sam feared he might go toppling straight over the edge of the cliff overlooking the bay. He had to remember just how fast a six-year-old could move and do a better job of staying on his toes at all times.
“Come on, kid. Let’s go in and eat dinner before it gets cold. Then we can get you settled down for the night. We’ve had a long day. Tomorrow’s soon enough to deal with all the complicated stuff.”
And maybe by tomorrow, he’d have some clue about how to do that. Surprisingly, it was the memory of Carrie Winters’s impulsive offer to help out with day care that centered him enough to get through one more night. Even if he never took her up on it, just knowing backup was around seemed to ease his panic.
* * *
Carrie knew that the odds of getting through the morning without a visit from her grandfather were between slim and none. To at least postpone the inevitable, she headed to the café on Main Street for breakfast. There was a very good chance there would be lots of family around since many of her aunts had stores nearby, and her grandmother’s art gallery was right around the corner. They tended to start their day at Sally’s with coffee, raspberry croissants and conversation. Carrie could catch up on the town gossip and avoid her grandfather at the same time. Then she could go by Noah’s and pick up Jackson for the day since Noah had office hours from early morning until dinnertime on Wednesdays.
Sure enough, at Sally’s she found her aunts Bree, Shanna and Heather already on their second cups of coffee, telltale crumbs from their croissants still on their plates. Two raspberry and one chocolate, from the look of it.
“Did you leave any of those croissants for me?” she demanded as she slid into the booth beside Bree.
“I put a chocolate one aside for you,” Sally told her with a wink as she poured a cup of coffee. “And there’s a raspberry for your grandmother when she gets here, too.”
“Thank you,” Carrie said gratefully. “You’re the best.”
“I just know my customers. I hear a lot of talk about carbs and dieting when you all are in here, but there’s not a morning that goes by that my tray of fresh croissants doesn’t magically disappear.”
After Sally left to get her croissant, Carrie glanced around the table and noted all the expectant looks. “So, what’s up?”
“Maybe you should tell us,” Bree suggested slyly. “Word on the family grapevine is that you had a little tiff with a man at the pub last night. Luke swears he saw sparks. He may be a lot of things, but he’s not usually attuned to those kind of undercurrents, so I’m guessing they had to be more like fireworks for him to notice.”
Carrie took a deep breath as she tried to avoid the sea of curious stares. She needed a strategy to get out of this conversation. She gazed at each woman intently, then began innocently, “Out of my deep respect for you as my elders...”
Before she could complete the sentence, her words drew the expected horrified gasps. She barely managed to contain a chuckle at their predictable reaction.
“And because of my deep understanding of what each of you went through with too much meddling in your lives,” she continued, then beamed at Bree, “I’m going to ignore that line of conversation.”
Heather was the first to recover. “Nicely played,” she said, a note of grudging approval in her voice.
“But we don’t have to like it,” Shanna added.
“And I’m gonna tell your mother you called us old,” Bree claimed, looking thoroughly disgruntled. “Since she’s older than any of us, I doubt she’ll appreciate it.”
Carrie laughed. “I didn’t call you old. I said you were my elders. That’s an undeniable truth. And I do respect each and every one of you. Be sure to tell Mom I said that, too.”
“So we’re not going to get a thing out of you about the man?” Heather asked, clearly disappointed.
“Nothing to tell,” Carrie insisted. “You could always ask Susie about him. The guy’s working for Mack at the paper. They’re bound to have crossed paths.”
All three women promptly looked dismayed. Carrie studied their faces, then asked, “What? Has something happened with Susie? I ran into her a couple of days ago. She seemed fine then.”
“You know she and Mack want a baby in the worst way,” Bree said.
“Sure,” Carrie said. “They finally decided to adopt. I thought Uncle Connor was trying to help with a private adoption through his old law firm in Baltimore. Susie was practically bursting with excitement when I saw her. She said the baby was due any minute.” A horrifying thought occurred to her. “Nothing happened to the baby, did it?”
“Not exactly,” Heather responded. “Not the way you mean.”
“Then what?” Carrie asked.
“Connor kept cautioning them that things could go wrong, but Susie was so sure this was it. If you saw her, you know how she was floating on air, making all these plans. And then, at the very last minute, the mother got together with her boyfriend and they decided to keep the baby.”
“Oh, no,” Carrie whispered.
“Susie’s devastated. Connor said the look on her face when he broke the news was something he hoped never to see again. Nothing Mack said or did could console her. She says she can’t go through that again.”
“She’s giving up?” Carrie asked, genuinely shocked. O’Briens didn’t give up that easily, not when something truly mattered as much as a baby mattered to Susie.
“That’s what she told Connor,” Heather confirmed. “Mack thinks she’ll come around once she gets over this latest disappointment, but I don’t know. I spoke to her last night for about two minutes. She sounded terrible, but the one thing she seemed certain about was her decision that this was it. I offered to go over so she could vent, but she said she wasn’t in the mood for company, that there was nothing more to be said, anyway.”
“And she’s not here this morning,” Shanna added. “The last time they got close and the adoption fell apart, she didn’t leave the house for a week. This time could be worse. She really thought a private adoption was the answer, a guarantee of some kind, despite all Connor’s warnings that things could go wrong.”
“She’d actually painted the nursery this time, because she knew it was going to be a girl,” Bree said. “I was over there just last week and she had drawers filled with frilly little outfits for the baby.”
“That’s so sad,” Carrie said, unable to imagine the depth of Susie’s disappointment. She’d been so brave all through her bout with ovarian cancer, even after finding out she’d never have children of her own. Now this.
“Is there anything I can do?” Carrie asked.
“She has to come to us,” Bree said. “She’ll do that when she’s ready. I’m hoping she’ll talk to Jess. For being such rivals when they were kids, they formed a really close bond during Susie’s cancer treatments. Maybe she’ll open up to her.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Carrie asked, not liking the idea of Susie going through this alone. Families were supposed to stick together in times of crisis, even when the person pushed them away. That was another of the lessons Nell had taught all of them.
“Then we’ll go to her in a few days,” Heather assured her. “You, too, if you want to come.” She sighed. “Although right now I have a new baby at home. I’m not sure how she feels about that. She says all the right things, but I’ve seen the stricken look on her face when she has to be around the baby.”
“So have I,” Shanna said. She and Carrie’s uncle Kevin had just had another child, as well. “She skipped the whole christening and the party afterward. She had an excuse, but it was pretty flimsy.”
“It must just about kill her to be around all these babies in our family,” Bree said. “But we can’t feel guilty about it. All we can do is try to be understanding and supportive.”
Carrie sat back in her seat and sighed, thinking of Sam and how he’d become a dad when he least expected it. Did he appreciate what a gift that was? Maybe in time he would, but right now there was little question that he was struggling with it. And there was Susie, desperate to hold a child of her own, but running out of options. Life sometimes truly was unfair. Nell would assure them all that God had a plan, but Carrie sure wished He’d let them all in on it.
* * *
Mack was at his wit’s end. Susie had been sitting on the deck of their home on Beach Lane for hours, staring out at the bay and clutching the handmade baby quilt she’d bought at Heather’s shop.
He’d known when she’d brought it home that the quilt was a bad idea and that painting the nursery and buying a boatload of baby clothes were even worse ideas, but Susie hadn’t been deterred. She’d believed with every fiber of her being that this time they were going to get their child, a daughter, according to Connor’s former associate in Baltimore, the lawyer handling the arrangements.
“Babe, come inside,” he begged. “You need some sleep.”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“You were out here all night.” He knew because he’d awakened to an empty bed. He’d checked on her half a dozen times during the night, but she’d refused to come back to bed.
Heaving a resigned sigh, Mack brought his coffee and joined her on the deck, ignoring the look that told him she’d prefer to go right on being alone.
He set the coffee aside, then pulled his chair close enough to reach for her hand. Even though it was a warm morning, her hand was like ice and trembled in his, but at least she didn’t pull away.
Susie was the bravest, most courageous woman he’d ever known. He’d never seen her this defeated, not even when she’d been battling cancer and sickened by chemo and radiation. She’d had her share of down moments, her doubts about her future, but this was different. There was a steely resolve behind her decision to give up, one that left little room for argument or hope.
“I love you,” he told her, holding on tight, willing her to draw on his strength.
She turned and gave him a vague smile. “I know.”
“Are you ready to talk about this?”
Once again she shook her head. “What is there to talk about?”
“What we’re going to do next,” he suggested.
“Nothing,” she said flatly. “It’s over.”
“It’s only over if we give up.”
“Well, that’s what I’m doing. I’m giving up.” She turned and gave him an earnest look. “I can’t go through this again, Mack. Now I have some idea of how women feel after miscarriages. They carry this little baby inside of them, inside their hearts, even if only for a few weeks, and then it’s over. There’s no baby to hold.”
“The right baby will come along,” he insisted, though he knew no such thing. “Or we could look into an older child adoption. Think of all the children who need loving families, kids who’ve bounced around in foster care. We could open our hearts and our home to them. Maybe that’s what we’re meant to do.”
Susie closed her eyes and, he suspected, her ears, to block out his words. “I can’t do it, Mack. Please don’t hate me, but I can’t.”
Mack wasn’t sure what to say. Susie had always been more certain about parenthood than he was. It had been her dream and, because he loved her so blasted deeply, he’d wanted to give her that, no matter how the child came into their lives. He could accept her decision and move on, but he knew in his heart the day would come when she’d regret it. Maybe he needed to accept her decision for now, then bring this up again when this latest wound wasn’t so fresh.
She glanced his way. “Have you heard from Sam? How’s he coping with losing his sister?”
“He’s doing okay, I think,” Mack said, relieved to have her show an interest in something, even if she was only doing it to change the subject. “The accident came as a terrible shock, but there’s more. He’s reeling, in fact.”
Real interest sparked in her eyes. “Why? What else happened?”
“His sister and brother-in-law named him guardian of their son, a six-year-old boy.”
Shock spread across her face. “Sam’s a dad? Just like that?”
Mack hesitated, sensing that the news had stirred envy as much as surprise. He should have considered that and kept quiet, but it was out there now.
“It was a shock to him, too,” Mack reported. “He said he’d tell me more when he got back to town. I think he was hoping to make it by last night. I imagine he’ll check in later today. I told him to take as long as he needs. We can manage okay at the paper for another week, if he needs that long to deal with the situation. Even longer, if need be.”
That vacant stare returned to Susie’s eyes. “Sam has a son,” she murmured. “Of all people.”
“Hey,” Mack protested. “Sam’s a good guy.”
“I suppose so. He’s a talented web designer, for sure, and a tech genius to hear you tell it, but come on, Mack, do you really see him as dad material?”
“I’m the last person to ask about that. I don’t know what it takes to be a good father.”
“Reliability’s a good place to start,” she said.
“Sam is reliable.”
“He left you in the lurch right after he started on the job,” she said, a critical note in her voice.
“Babe, his sister and brother-in-law were killed. Did you expect him not to attend the funeral?”
“Well, he hasn’t exactly settled down, has he? He’s still living at the inn.”
Mack suspected she was uttering these judgments for a reason, one he didn’t particularly like. “He’d only been here a couple of weeks, hardly enough time to find a house or even an apartment,” he said, defending Sam. “Where are you going with this, Suze?”
“How many jobs has he held over the past few years? Three? Four? What kind of man does that?” she asked without responding to his question about her motives.
“Someone who’s talented and very much in demand in a new field,” Mack replied, not sure why he was so ardently defending a man he barely knew himself, but having the feeling that he needed to make his position clear. Susie seemed to be heading in a worrisome direction. She’d liked Sam well enough when they’d had him over for dinner. This had to be about the boy, though Mack hoped he was wrong about that.
“We should go over to the inn and see how they’re doing,” she said out of the blue, standing up and proving that Mack’s instincts had been right on target.
“This morning? You haven’t slept a wink. You need rest more than you need to be running around paying social calls.”
She frowned at him. “I want to see for myself how Sam’s coping with a child to care for.”
Since Mack had been praying for a distraction for Susie, even one as misguided as he was sure this one was, he told himself he could control the situation and gave in.
“While you take a shower, I’ll call Jess to see if he’s back. If he is, we’ll go when you’re dressed,” he said.
“Why wait?” she asked, giving him a bewildered look.
“Because you’ve been wearing that same robe for the past two days. You can’t go anywhere in that.”
She glanced down as if surprised by the reminder. “I won’t take long,” she promised. “I know you need to get to work. Go ahead, if you want to. I can stop by on my own.”
“Not a chance. I’m going with you,” Mack said. He needed to see for himself if his wife intended something more than a kindhearted visit to an employee who’d just suffered a terrible loss.
Susie leveled a knowing gaze straight at him. “I’m not jumping off the deep end,” she told him. “I know I can’t go swooping in and take a little boy away from Sam, no matter how desperate I might be feeling.”
Mack was relieved to hear her express his exact concern. “I’m glad to hear that’s not what you were thinking.”
She touched his cheek. “I love you for caring so much and for worrying about me. I’m sad, but I’m not crazy.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I never, for even a second, thought you were.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips. “It crossed your mind, Mack Franklin. Don’t you dare try to deny it. I honestly can’t blame you. I have been sitting around here wallowing ever since Connor told us we weren’t going to get our baby. I’ll probably wallow some more before I’m done.”
He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her close. “Take all the time you need. And if checking on Sam and his nephew will reassure you somehow, I’m all for it. I imagine he’ll appreciate the gesture. He must be freaking out about now.”
“I hope not,” she said, her expression turning wistful. “I hope he’s on his knees thanking God for the gift he’s been given.”
Mack tucked a finger under her chin. “Suze, if he’s not there just yet, it doesn’t mean he won’t get there. Look how long it’s taken me to believe I could be a decent parent. After growing up with poor examples in my life, I had more doubts than anyone could imagine, but you believed in me. So did your family. Sam needs our support, not somebody waiting in the wings to snatch that child away at the first sign of a misstep.”
“I know that,” she said, indignation in her voice, even as she was careful to avoid his gaze.
Mack wished she were half as convincing as she’d obviously intended to be. Instead, he feared what might happen if she seized on the situation to fill the empty space in her heart. The past few days of despair would seem like a picnic compared to the heartache in store if that happened.
