Читать книгу Willow Brook Road - Sherryl Woods, Sherryl Woods - Страница 11

4

With Susie still very much on her mind, Carrie walked the few blocks to the house that had been converted into Noah’s medical offices on the ground floor. The upstairs had been turned into a cozy apartment for him, Cait and the baby. Once Cait was finished with her medical training and home for good, it would probably be much too small for a growing family, but for now Grandpa Mick had converted it into a warm, welcoming home. It was too bad, Carrie thought, that her twin was rarely here to enjoy it or her family.

Carrie used her key to the side entrance to the offices and found Noah’s nurse, Wendy Kaine, already there, bustling around in the brightly painted examining rooms, getting ready for another busy day.

“You here to pick up the little man?” Wendy asked with a grin as a wail carried all the way from upstairs. “Good luck. He seems to be expressing himself quite clearly today. He is not a happy little boy.”

Carrie winced at the sound. Noah, who prided himself on soothing even his most difficult young patients, must be at his wit’s end about now. “I could hide out down here till his daddy gets him calmed down,” she whispered to Wendy.

“Coward,” the nurse accused. “March right on up there and show the two of them who’s boss.”

“Noah’s probably trying to make him eat more of that boring baby cereal again,” Carrie said. “Jackson really hates that stuff. I guess I should go up and save him.”

“Him who? Jackson or Noah?” Wendy asked. “I’m sure the baby will appreciate it. Noah, too. I know I will.”

Carrie hurried up the steps, tapped on the door to the living quarters—not that it could likely be heard over the baby’s noisy sobs—and went inside.

Sure enough, Noah had a spoon in his hand, a frustrated expression on his face, and far more cereal on his shirt than could possibly be in the little boy who was waving his fists and had big, fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

Jackson spotted Carrie and immediately held out his arms. A drooling smile lit up his face.

She grinned at Noah, then passed him and picked up the eight-month-old. “That’s right, sweetie. Aunt Carrie is here to save you from having to eat that nasty old cereal.”

Noah frowned at her. “You’ve been telling me he eats it for you.”

She leaned closer, the baby clinging tightly to her. “Want to know my secret?”

“Please,” he said, sounding a little desperate.

“I mix in a little applesauce. He loves applesauce.”

Noah closed his eyes. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you probably never tasted the cereal yourself and had no idea how awful it is. I believe peaches were the fruit of choice for Cait and me. And in the interest of full disclosure, I didn’t dream this up on my own. Mom gave me the tip after I’d spent a week washing cereal out of my hair.”

Noah laughed then. “I feel a whole lot better now.” His expression sobered. “You say this worked for you and Cait?”

Carrie nodded.

“Hmm. She never suggested it, either. I’m thinking my wife deliberately omitted a few helpful tips when she left me in charge.”

“Could be,” Carrie agreed. “She does like to feel superior. Now, go. Change shirts and get to work. I have things under control here. As soon as I have Jackson fed and cleaned up, we’ll head on over to my house so peace should reign here for you and your patients.”

“Thank you,” Noah said, his tone heartfelt. “I mean it, Carrie. I don’t know what we’d do without you. The first couple of months, when Jackson was with Cait in Baltimore so she could breast-feed him, I had no idea of what she must be going through, even with help. I was so sure it would be easier for me here, with family all around. I’m a doctor. I deal with sick kids on a daily basis. They’re not usually in the best mood, but they’re mostly saints compared to my own son.”

“Jackson is a sweet little angel,” she corrected.

Noah smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re smitten. Otherwise I’d be up a creek. Thanks again for pitching in.” His expression turned serious. “I want you to let me know if it gets to be too much for you, if we’re taking advantage.”

“Not to worry. I love having Jackson with me,” she assured her brother-in-law.

“But it doesn’t leave much time for...” His voice trailed off.

“For what?” she asked, forcing a smile. “My busy schedule of watching the grass grow? My nonexistent social life? Pursuing my exciting career path?”

At her undisguised bitter tone, worry immediately spread across his face. “Carrie, are you okay? Seriously? Do you want to talk about any of this? I can make time.”

“Absolutely not. I think one of the things I love most about watching the baby is that he doesn’t ask questions I can’t answer. I have Grandpa Mick doing enough of that. And Mom. Even Cait gets in a shot from time to time.”

“I’m happy to listen, though,” Noah said. “Being an outsider, I might be able to give you a different perspective.”

“Noah, I love you for wanting to help, but we’re talking about the O’Briens. I have so many perspectives about my life, my head is spinning. I’ll figure it out, even if it’s not on their timetable.”

“Of course you will,” he said with confidence. “I’ll be by to get Jackson later.”

“Or I can bring him back,” she offered. “Whichever’s easiest for you. Just let me know.”

As soon as Noah had gone, she sat the baby back down, mixed some applesauce into his cereal and spooned it into his mouth at a steady clip. He gave her a toothless smile that always warmed her heart.

Today, thinking of Susie’s longing to have a child and her own fantasy about a family, that smile made her heart ache. When would it be Susie’s turn? Or hers?

* * *

First thing in the morning, with Bobby up and eager for the promised pancakes, Sam dug out some wrinkled but clean clothes for his nephew, then took him down to the inn’s dining room. To his surprise he found Mack and Susie Franklin in the foyer. Susie’s gaze immediately locked on Bobby and a smile spread across her face.

“You must be the young man I’ve been hearing so much about,” she told Bobby.

Bobby regarded her shyly, then hid behind Sam. Sam knelt down and drew the boy up beside him. “Bobby, this is Mack Franklin. He’s my boss at the newspaper. And this is his wife, Mrs. Franklin.”

“Call me Susie, please,” she said, her gaze never leaving Bobby.

“When I called this morning to see if you’d made it back, Jess told me you got in last night,” Mack said. “Did the trip go okay?”

“It was smooth enough. I should have let you know we’d made it back to town,” Sam apologized.

“Absolutely not. You had a lot to do to get settled, I’m sure,” Mack said. “In fact, Susie insisted on coming over right away to see what she could do to help out.” He gave Sam a reassuring look. “Things must feel pretty overwhelming about now, but you’re not in this alone, okay? I want to make sure you know that. We all want to help.”

“I appreciate that,” Sam said, beginning to see what Carrie had been talking about. Even though he was new to town people were willing to pitch in. He hated that one of them happened to be his boss, a man he respected and wanted to impress. He couldn’t help wondering what Mack thought of the chaos that had suddenly become his life.

“I’m not entirely sure where to start,” Sam admitted candidly, then grinned at Bobby’s impatient tug on his jeans. “Except to get some pancakes into my boy here.”

“Yeah!” Bobby said.

“Well, I can definitely help with that,” Susie said. “I’ll go in the kitchen and speak to the chef myself.”

Bobby regarded her hopefully. “Can I come, too? I want to see where they make the pancakes. When I get big, I want to make them myself.”

“Absolutely,” Susie agreed and held out her hand. She turned to Mack. “Why don’t you grab a table by the window so we can see the water?”

As she and Bobby left, Mack watched them go with a surprisingly worried expression.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked him as they made their way to a table.

Mack shook off whatever was troubling him and forced a smile. “No, nothing for you to worry about. Do you need more time off? Like I told you when you called the other day, I can manage for another week. I might not have the creative-design expertise you have, and I definitely don’t have your tech skills, but I can post stories and pictures.” He regarded Sam with concern. “You must have a list a mile long of things you need to do to adjust to having custody of your nephew.”

“You have no idea,” Sam said. “Thank goodness my sister and brother-in-law had the foresight to have a will. Too many young couples think they’re immortal, according to the lawyer. He says it’s critical to plan ahead when there are children to consider. They even had a small life-insurance policy that will be set aside for Bobby’s education.”

He shook his head. “It’s hard to imagine my sister being quite so organized. Neither one of us thought much beyond our next meal when we were kids.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Mack suggested. “Kids who grew up in a chaotic household often feel the greatest need for a sense of stability. And, in case you’re wondering, I know that from experience.” He gave Sam a rueful look. “Of course, I had to go through a playboy stage and a career crisis before I figured out what I really needed and got my life on track.”

Maybe Sam was more like Mack than he’d realized. He certainly hadn’t changed dramatically from his early days of wanting to seize whatever adventure came along next. Now, though? He needed to figure out how to do the whole stable thing in a hurry for Bobby’s sake.

“Maybe that explains it,” he said, though he was still skeptical. She might have bossed him around like a mature adult, but she’d had her own wild moments before she’d married. “I think it was probably Robert’s doing. Laurel’s husband was a real steady guy. Money in the bank every week for the future, oil changed in the car, tires rotated or replaced right on schedule. It was ironic, really, that it was a faulty tire blowing that caused their car to spin out of control on a busy highway.”

“That just shows that we can’t always plan for every curve life might throw at us,” Mack said. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

Sam nodded, unexpected tears once more threatening. “Me, too,” he said, his voice choked. He sighed heavily, then added, “All I know about the future is that I need to enroll Bobby in school this morning. After that, I don’t have a real plan.”

“School doesn’t start for almost a month,” Mack reminded him. “There’s no rush. Why not wait at least till Monday? If you need to have any paperwork expedited, I’m sure someone in the family will be able to help. Susie’s cousin Connor is a lawyer. And her uncle, Mick O’Brien, can get just about anything done around here with a phone call. Give Bobby a few days to get used to being here, let him get familiar with the town, meet a few kids. Give yourself time to get your feet back under you, too.”

“I just thought maybe if he was enrolled in school and knew there was going to be a familiar routine, he’d feel more settled,” Sam said. “I’m not sure he quite understands that this is his home now. He says all the right words about knowing Mommy and Daddy are in heaven, but I just have this sense he still expects them to find their way back to him.”

“That must kill you,” Mack said, then hesitated. “Look, I may think a break before he has to think about anything except being a kid might be good, but run it by Susie. She’s smarter about this sort of thing than I am. It just seems to me Bobby’s already had to make a lot of big adjustments. A couple of extra days to hang out with you might make him feel more secure. You guys probably need some serious bonding time.”

Sam nodded. “That does make sense. And, like you said, maybe it’ll help me to wrap my head around everything that’s happened, too.”

“What about a place to live?” Mack asked. “I’m sure Jess will give you a break here, if you need to stay on for a while longer.”

“She mentioned that when I got back last night,” Sam responded. “But as convenient and wonderful as the inn is, it’s not a long-term solution. The sooner I can find a permanent place for us, the better it will be.”

“I can help with that,” Susie said, returning just in time to overhear. “I know every property in town that’s available for rent or for sale. Any preference?”

“I’d planned to rent a small apartment, if there is such a thing in Chesapeake Shores, but now...” His voice trailed off and he shrugged. “Bobby needs stability, so maybe a house.”

“I agree,” Susie said enthusiastically. “And I already know the perfect one. It’s not too big and it’s on Willow Brook Road, which is a wonderful street with lots of shade trees and nice yards. There are several children Bobby’s age on the street, and a lot of the kids in our family are over there a lot, too. My cousin’s daughter lives there and she watches them after school from time to time.”

“Carrie?” Sam asked.

A startled look passed across Susie’s face. “How on earth did you know that?”

“I ran into her last night when I was picking up dinner at O’Brien’s. She mentioned she has children in and out all the time.”

“It’s not a formal day care or anything like that,” Susie explained. “Carrie just happens to be really good with children, so all the O’Brien little ones gravitate to her. The adults take terrible advantage of that. I think we all know that sooner or later she’ll decide on a new career and go back to the glamorous life she used to live, but in the meantime, she’s a godsend.”

The mention of Carrie’s previously glamorous life set off alarms for Sam. It only confirmed what he’d guessed the previous night just looking at her in an outfit even he could tell hadn’t come off a rack at a discount store. Hadn’t he already experienced one disastrous relationship that ended because he’d rather spend his money on adventures than clothes? Maybe Carrie Winters, despite her thoughtful offer, wasn’t the best person to bring into Bobby’s life...or his, especially if her future in Chesapeake Shores was as uncertain as Susie had just suggested. Bobby didn’t need to form an attachment to another person who might disappear from his life at any moment.

He hesitated about even considering a house just down the street from Carrie. It seemed like a really bad idea. But looking into Susie’s expectant face, he knew he couldn’t afford to ignore a house with real potential, especially in a town where he already knew real estate came at a premium and was in short supply.

“Sure, let’s take a look,” he said. “I’ll give you a call and we can set it up.”

“You don’t want to look this morning? I have time.”

“Don’t push,” Mack said quietly. “Sam has a lot to do.”

“Anything more important than this?” Susie asked, her voice tight.

With Mack’s steady gaze holding hers, she finally backed down. She reached in her purse and handed Sam a business card. “Call me whenever you’re ready. But houses don’t stay on the market long here,” she cautioned.

Sam nodded, then turned to Bobby, noting that he was making slow but steady progress through a stack of pancakes more suited to Sam’s appetite than a boy’s. “You doing okay, buddy?”

Bobby nodded happily, his mouth full. When he’d swallowed, he took a big gulp of milk and said, “You were right, Sam. These are the best, even better than Mom’s.”

As if he’d suddenly realized what he said, his smile faded. “Is it okay that I like them?” he whispered. “It won’t make Mom mad, will it?”

“No way,” Sam said. “Your mom only wanted the very best for you always, whether it was pancakes or...” He searched his mind for something sufficiently yucky to appeal to Bobby’s sense of the ridiculous. He grinned. “Or escargots.”

Bobby wrinkled his nose. “What’s that?” he asked suspiciously.

“Snails,” Sam told him.

With Susie and Mack fighting smiles, Bobby made a gagging sound. “Mom would never make me eat snails.” He gave Sam a wary look. “You’re not gonna, either, are you?”

“They are considered a delicacy,” Sam told him.

Bobby’s jaw set stubbornly. “I don’t care. I’m not eating them.”

Sam laughed and ruffled his hair. “Okay. Good to know where you draw the line when it comes to food. No snails.”

“No snails,” Bobby repeated fervently. He bounced in his seat. “What are we gonna do today?”

Sam glanced at Mack, then back at his suddenly eager nephew. “I thought I’d play hooky and we could check out the shops on Main Street, maybe spend some time on the beach or swim in the pool. And I think I saw a playground on the town green. Would you like to check that out?”

“All right!” Bobby said with a fist pump that had everyone at the table smiling.

Sam breathed in a sigh of relief. Finally, after days of awkward, disapproving silences and difficult choices that had Bobby shifting from tantrums to outright rebellions, it seemed Sam had gotten something exactly right. Unfortunately, it was mostly thanks to Mack’s instincts and not his own.

* * *

Even after giving Jackson a bath and dressing him in clean clothes after the cereal debacle, Carrie discovered it was still surprisingly pleasant for a morning in early August. Rather than pushing his stroller straight over to her house, she headed for Main Street and then Shore Road.

Her first stop was Grandma Megan’s art gallery, which was currently showing an exhibition of Moira’s local photographs, many of them taken of O’Brien children, as well as other Chesapeake Shores residents. Luke’s wife had become a surprisingly successful photographer thanks to Megan’s contacts in the New York art world. Out of loyalty to Megan, Moira always insisted on a show here in town in late summer. It had the added advantage of giving her a solid stretch of time at home with Luke.

When Grandma Megan spotted Carrie with the baby, she rushed over to hold open the door.

“There’s my precious boy,” she cooed, leaning down to scoop Jackson out of the stroller.

“I’m delighted to see you, too,” Carrie said, amused by her grandmother’s complete lack of interest in anything other than her first great-grandchild.

Megan glanced up at her. “I fussed over you from the day you were born. It’s Jackson’s turn now.” She bounced the baby in her arms. “You’re almost too big for me to hold.”

“I’d suggest you not bounce him quite so energetically,” Carrie cautioned. “He’s just finished his breakfast.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone in this family spit up all over one of us,” Megan said dismissively.

“Didn’t you buy that scarf in Paris when you and Grandpa Mick went there for your second honeymoon?” Carrie asked. “Isn’t it your favorite?”

Her grandmother glanced down and shrugged. “I’ll just make your grandfather take me back to buy another one.”

“And he’d do it without batting an eye, wouldn’t he?” Carrie said, envying them the devotion they’d found together the second time around.

Apparently something in her voice alerted Megan that Carrie was in an odd mood. She returned Jackson to his stroller with a little pat, then turned to Carrie, giving her the full attention she’d apparently concluded was required. “Would you care for some tea? It’s Irish Breakfast tea, Nell’s favorite.”

“We should be going. You’re probably busy.”

“I’m never too busy for a visit with you. Sit. I’ll get the tea.”

When she came back, Carrie was pushing the stroller back and forth and watching Jackson fight sleep.

“Here’s your tea,” Megan said, handing her the delicate, old-fashioned chintz-patterned teacup. “Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I’m at loose ends,” Carrie admitted.

“No news there,” her grandmother agreed. “Any thoughts about what you intend to do about it?” She gave her a sly look. “Other than avoiding advice from your grandfather, that is?”

Carrie grinned. “How’d you guess?”

“The way you took off from the pub as if you didn’t hear him calling after you last night,” Megan said. “And the fact that you’re in here right now, rather than in your own house where you could put the baby down for his nap.”

“You know how Grandpa Mick is,” Carrie said.

“I most certainly do,” Megan replied. “That said, not all of his ideas should be dismissed so readily.”

“But I need to find my own ideas,” Carrie argued. “Isn’t that the whole point of growing up, to figure out what we’re meant to do? You didn’t exactly have a handle on it, did you? You were how old and had five kids at home, when you decided it wasn’t enough, divorced Grandpa Mick, moved to New York and discovered how much you loved art and working in a gallery?”

“Touché,” her grandmother said. “But there was a little more to the divorce than my running off to find myself.”

“I know that. It was because Grandpa Mick was a workaholic and you felt like he’d abandoned you to be a single mom, stuck at home with five kids.”

Megan smiled at what even Carrie knew to be a simplistic version of a very difficult time in her grandparents’ marriage.

“That does sum it up,” Megan acknowledged. “Or at least the heart of what happened. Here’s the difference between you and me. I didn’t know just how unhappy I was for a very long time, and I hurt a lot of people when I took off, including your mother and your aunts and uncles. I’ve spent a lot of time making amends for that. You have the advantage of being on your own. Now’s the perfect time for you to get serious about finding your dream. To make your mistakes when the only person likely to be hurt is you.”

Carrie met her sympathetic gaze. “You’re talking about Marc.”

“Not exactly. I’m talking about what you did to yourself. You worked yourself into exhaustion to impress a man who didn’t appreciate it,” Megan corrected. “The good news is that you had sense enough to leave before you were trapped by a marriage that was doomed.”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “Trust me, marriage was never on the table, except maybe in my fantasy. Marc had an entirely different agenda. He was a selfish, manipulative man who took advantage of the feelings he knew I had for him. I can see that now.”

“Good for you! You won’t make a similar mistake again, will you?”

“I sure hope not.”

Her grandmother studied her worriedly. “You’re not going to let that one mistake keep you from taking risks or opening your heart again, are you? Because that would be a real tragedy. You have so much potential, Carrie, so much love to give.”

“But I need a purpose,” Carrie told her. “Grandpa Mick has been harping on that ever since I left Europe.”

“And he’s right. Everyone needs a purpose, a passion that makes them want to get up in the morning.”

“So you think I’m wasting time, too?”

“No, I think you’re taking your time trying to avoid another mistake. That’s not you. You’re my impulsive, embrace-everything granddaughter, but suddenly you’re scared. I think that’s what I hate most about Marc Reynolds. He robbed you of that wonderful, spontaneous spirit that made you special. If I may offer one piece of advice, it’s this. Start taking chances again, Carrie. If something feels right, try it. If someone feels right, open your heart.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Carrie acknowledged. “Maybe I have been playing it safe.”

She gave her grandmother a plaintive look. “Or maybe I simply have no idea where to go from here.”

Her grandmother wrapped her in a tight embrace. “You’ll know it when it comes along. In the meantime, I’ll try to get your grandfather to give you some space.”

Carrie laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but we both know that’s a losing fight. I’ll just tune him out.”

She tried to imagine how well that would work and couldn’t. “I’d better get Jackson home. He’ll be awake again any minute and he tends to wake up cranky. We don’t want him scaring off your customers.”

“Wednesdays are usually slow. I’m not worried. I’m glad you came by, sweetheart.”

“Me, too. Love you.”

Surprisingly, though there had been no sudden bursts of inspiration during their conversation, Carrie felt at peace when she left. That lasted two whole blocks until she spotted Sam Winslow sitting on a bench by the playground, and his nephew heading straight for the top rungs of the jungle gym.

Carrie’s breath caught in her throat as she pushed the stroller as fast as she could in their direction. She didn’t dare call out for fear the boy would take a misstep and tumble straight to the ground.

With her eyes glued to the boy, she made it to the base of the jungle gym and stood there watching his every move, ready to catch him if he fell.

She sensed Sam’s approach, but never looked away.

“What were you thinking?” she said in a quiet voice. “Did you have any idea what he was doing?”

“Of course I did,” Sam said defensively, his welcoming smile immediately fading. “I’m not completely incompetent. Bobby’s been climbing jungle gyms since he was four. He’s a little daredevil.”

He leveled a look at her. “Don’t believe me?” He whipped out his cell phone and showed her a picture of a triumphant little boy atop another jungle gym with a woman who was clearly his mom standing watch just below, a tremulous smile on her lips.

“Your sister?” Carrie asked.

Sam nodded.

“She looks terrified.”

“But she let him do it,” Sam pointed out.

“The difference is she was standing right below in case he fell.”

“And I was sitting a few feet away. I may have looked distracted to you, but trust me, I saw his every move. And you saw firsthand how quickly I got over here when you turned up.”

“I suppose.”

“Carrie, I may be new at this, but I’m not going to let anything happen to Bobby. My sister trusted me to get it right, and I will.”

She looked into his eyes then and heard the sincerity behind his words. “Then I should relax and leave you to it.”

“Or you could go to the café with us. I promised Bobby a milk shake and a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch.”

She was a little too tempted by the invitation. “I should probably get Jackson home.”

Sam looked at the sleeping baby and smiled. “Is this your nephew?”

“The one and only Jackson McIlroy,” she confirmed. “His dad’s the doctor in town. With an adventurous kid in your life, you’ll want to get to know him.”

“Absolutely,” Sam said. “Now, about lunch. How about it? You can grumble that nothing I’m feeding Bobby is healthy.”

Carrie laughed and thought about what her grandmother had just advised, opening her heart to new experiences, even if she wasn’t quite ready for a new man.

“Well, when you put it that way, it should be fun,” she said. “Maybe I’ll even let you hold the baby, if he wakes up crying. That could be even more entertaining.”

“Hey, I’m barely holding my head above water as it is. One kid at a time, okay?”

“Okay,” she relented. “I’ll go save a table. It’s going to be hopping in there soon.”

Even as she walked away, she heard him trying to persuade Bobby to climb down. The boy promptly refused.

“Don’t make me come up there after you,” Sam warned.

As much as she wanted to turn around and watch the test of wills play out, she kept going to Sally’s. Lunch promised to be one of those interesting adventures that had been in short supply recently.