Читать книгу A Seaside Christmas - Sherryl Woods, Sherryl Woods - Страница 8

Chapter Three

Caleb left Nashville as soon as he could throw some clothes into a suitcase. Since he tended to live in jeans, T-shirts and his leather jacket, packing didn’t take long. He threw his bag and several of his favorite guitars into the back of his 4x4 truck and headed east.

He liked driving at night, partly because there was less traffic, but mostly because it was what he’d gotten used to on tour. The band would finish a concert, party for a couple of hours, then head out on their bus for the next city on the tour. Of course, someone else was paid to drive them then, but he’d never tired of staring out the windows at the passing landscape, the lights of shadowy towns in the distance.

He’d always wondered what it would be like to settle down someplace, put down roots. The closest he’d come had been the couple of years he’d been with Jenny in Nashville, though he suspected if he counted up the nights they’d spent under that roof, it would have been less than half of those he’d spent on the road. And he’d never given up his own place, made the commitment to living with her. In retrospect, he wondered if he hadn’t known from the first that sooner or later he’d mess up what they had together.

Maybe he’d gotten his wandering gene from his father, who’d taken off when he was still in grade school and who was still wandering, as far as Caleb knew. To his everlasting regret, on his rare visits home he still caught his mother gazing out the window sometimes, her expression wistful, as if she thought there would eventually come a day when Noah Green would turn up again.

Caleb knew better. Wanderers never settled in one place for long. If they were anything like him, they had the same problem being faithful. He’d always believed, though, that if it was possible to make a lasting commitment, to live happily-ever-after, Jenny was the woman he’d want by his side.

It was ironic in some ways that their absentee fathers had drawn them together. When they’d first met, they’d spent long hours talking about that. Though Jenny claimed she didn’t care a bit about the man who’d fathered her, he’d known by seeing the hurt in her eyes that it wasn’t true. He’d seen that same pain in the mirror a time or two. He’d been just as clever about denying it, though.

But if the pain had given them a connection, it was music that had brought a shared passion into their lives. Caleb lived to be onstage, to entertain an audience. Jenny lived to create lyrics that people could relate to, to touch a place in their hearts or express a profound sense of joy. Her music could tug at the heartstrings or lift the spirits better than anything he’d ever heard.

At times in rehab, when he’d been struggling to break the hold alcohol had over him, he’d worried that what he’d done to Jenny would somehow silence that amazing creativity. Instead, if the song he’d heard Ricky sing was an example, the heartache he’d inflicted on her had been a source of even deeper inspiration. It was possibly the only good thing to come from his despicable actions.

Reflecting on what a mess he’d made of things was bringing him down, so he flipped on the radio, found a country station and let the music wash over him as he drove from Tennessee to Maryland.

Unfortunately, this habit he had of hitting the road late at night put him into Chesapeake Shores before dawn. Since it was apparent that the town rolled up the sidewalks long before midnight and the nearest motel had been miles back, he was momentarily at a loss.

Then he thought of the Inn at Eagle Point that Jenny had mentioned belonging to someone in her family, or in that big extended family that put a faraway look in her eyes whenever she mentioned them. Using his cell phone, he found the address and directions, then made his way along a winding waterfront road that emerged on a point of land overlooking the Chesapeake Bay. The inn stood before him with welcoming lights beckoning from the downstairs windows.

He hauled his bag and guitar to the front door, only to find it locked. A small, handwritten sign posted under a bell beside the door read Ring for Assistance, so he did exactly that. Again and again, he pressed the button, then watched through the glass panels on either side of the door for some sign of activity.

A harried-looking woman who was surprisingly young eventually padded down the stairs and unlocked the door. She was barefoot, wrapped in a thick robe and clearly annoyed, but beautiful just the same.

“It’s the middle of the night,” she pointed out unnecessarily.

“Exactly why I need a warm bed,” Caleb told her, turning on the smile that he’d been assured could melt the coldest female heart. Women the age of this one—early thirties—were reportedly especially susceptible. This woman, however, seemed to be immune. In fact, her gaze narrowed and she drew the robe even more tightly around her as a breeze swirled around them.

“You’re Caleb Green,” she announced as if he might not be aware of it.

“Guilty.”

“I’ll say,” she muttered.

Her reaction didn’t bode well, he concluded. Of course, anyone in this town who knew Jenny was likely to be on her side. He should have thought of that.

“Look, I’ve driven a long way tonight. I know I’m inconveniencing you by arriving at this hour, but I really would like to book a room, if you have one available.” Since he hadn’t seen a single car parked in the lot, he waited to see if she’d flat-out lie and send him away.

She frowned at him, clearly torn. Apparently, an innate sense of hospitality eventually kicked in. “One night,” she said at last.

“Indefinitely,” he countered.

Her frown deepened. “Why? If you’re here to cause trouble for Jenny, you’re not welcome, not at the inn, not in town.” The warning proved she knew the whole history and had already chosen sides.

Caleb smiled. “I see what Jenny meant about this town getting in her business.”

“We take care of our own. And Jenny’s not just a local. She’s family.”

He recalled the connection he should have made the instant the door opened. “You’re an O’Brien,” he concluded.

“I’m Jess Lincoln now, but, yes, I’m an O’Brien.”

“Which makes you what? Jenny’s cousin?” Not that Jenny had embraced being an O’Brien, as far as he could remember. She’d felt alienated from the whole lot of them, even as she’d longed to be one of them. Though she’d denied it, he’d recognized that yearning in her eyes whenever she talked about them.

“Exactly. Jenny and I are cousins, at least I like to think of us that way.”

He decided to forget charm, which was likely to be wasted, and go for being direct. “Okay, Jess, what’s it going to be? Do I get that room? Do you want to call around and take a family vote, while we both stand out here freezing, or what?”

Though there was no mistaking her reluctance, she stepped aside. “I suppose you might as well come on in, but if I find out later that Jenny wants you gone, you’re history.”

He nodded, accepting where her loyalties would naturally lie. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Jess pulled a key off the rack behind the desk and handed it to him. “We’ll deal with the paperwork tomorrow. I’m going back to bed before my husband comes down here, sees you and tells me what a huge mistake I’m making.”

Caleb chuckled. “A risk taker. I think I like you, Jess O’Brien Lincoln.”

She shook her head. “Save that smile for someone who’ll appreciate it,” she said. “The room’s up the stairs and to the left. We serve breakfast from seven to nine. Miss that, you’re out of luck unless you head into town.”

“Got it.”

As he climbed the stairs he wondered once more about Jenny’s refusal to come back here for so long. Sure, he knew there were all sorts of unresolved family dynamics at work, but he’d gotten the sense from Jess that any distance was all on Jenny, not the O’Briens. Jess, like Margo Welch, was a woman who’d always have Jenny’s back. Multiply that by what he recalled was a very large O’Brien clan and he wondered how much more difficult that was likely to make his mission to mend fences.

* * *

Connie paced the office at the nursery, her gaze going to the clock that seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace this morning. Jake had promised to get Jenny over here one way or another, and her brother always kept his word. But Jenny was no slouch when it came to stubbornness. He might have hit a snag when it came to persuading her to come to work with him.

She finally heard the crunch of tires on gravel outside and glanced out the window. When her daughter emerged from the passenger side of the pickup, Connie’s heart nearly stopped.

Jenny had changed so much, from a college girl to a woman. Some of that, she knew, was simply the natural result of reaching her early twenties. Some, she suspected, came from heartbreak. Though she’d reached out to Jenny when she’d learned of her shattered romance, she’d been rebuffed, turned away with the obvious lie that Jenny was doing just fine, no motherly comfort needed.

This morning there was no mistaking Jenny’s reluctance as she crossed the parking lot. She dragged her feet like a toddler heading for a shot at the doctor’s office. Jake leaned down, murmured something in her ear, then all but shoved her toward the door. Connie flung it open, half-afraid that Jenny would turn tail and leave before they’d said a word to each other.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. “Welcome home.” She lifted her arms, then let them drop back to her side, when Jenny remained right where she was.

“Hi, Mom. You look great,” Jenny said, her tone stilted, her gaze directed everywhere but at Connie.

“You look fantastic,” Connie said, hating the awkwardness of the moment. She stepped aside and let Jake by. Jenny followed reluctantly behind him.

“I brought coffee,” Jake said, stepping into the silence that fell. He handed out disposable cups from Sally’s, along with a bag of raspberry and chocolate croissants meant to smooth over any tension in the reunion, then headed right back to the door. “Gotta run. I’m on a job this morning.”

“Hey, wait,” Jenny protested, looking panicky. “How am I supposed to get back into town? Bree and I have a meeting this morning. We have a lot of work to do if this play’s going to be ready for Christmas week. I need to hitch a ride back with you.”

“I don’t think so,” Jake said. “Your mom can take you whenever you’re ready.” He walked out and let the door slam behind him.

Jenny turned to Connie then, and gave her a hesitant smile. “Not exactly subtle, is he?”

Connie grinned at the massive understatement. “He never was. Frankly, right this second, I’m grateful for that.” She studied her daughter’s face. “I can see, though, that you’re not.”

Jenny was silent for so long that Connie thought maybe Jake’s efforts had been wasted. She sighed.

“I can take you to your meeting now, if that’s what you want,” she offered.

Jenny flinched. “It’s okay. I have a little time,” she admitted. “Bree wasn’t even dressed when we left the house. She was still groaning about being up at all.”

Connie smiled. “It’s a wonder she and Jake ever see each other. He’s always been a morning person, and she’s such a night owl.”

“But they make it work,” Jenny said. “I can see how happy they are. And they both dote on Emily Rose.” She smiled. “She’s very precocious. If Uncle Jake thought I was a handful as a teenager, he’s really going to be in for it when Emily Rose hits her teens.”

“We’ve all told him that,” Connie said, laughing. “He swears it won’t be a problem, because he intends to lock her in her room and nail the windows shut for good measure.”

“Which only means she’ll grow up to excel at carpentry or lock picking,” Jenny said, then predicted, “She will get out.”

“No question about it,” Connie agreed. She held her daughter’s gaze. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

At first she thought Jenny wasn’t going to respond, but then she said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve missed you, too.”

This time when Connie opened her arms, Jenny flew into them. After too many years of strained conversations and deafening silences, Connie’s world was finally right again. She wasn’t going to delude herself that everything between them was fixed. It took time to heal old wounds, but this moment with her firstborn back in her arms was a start.

* * *

For an hour as Jenny and her mother drank coffee and ate the croissants her uncle had brought along, it felt a little bit like old times. Jenny told her about her life in Nashville, the people she’d met and worked with, all the while carefully avoiding anything too personal. Caleb’s name never came up. Nor did her mother ask if there was anyone special in her life. It was as if there were an unspoken agreement to keep this first real conversation in such a long time light and superficial. In a way it felt more like catching up with an old acquaintance than the kind of mother-daughter talks she recalled. That saddened her.

Still it went well until her mom brought up Thomas.

“We’re so anxious to have you see the house,” Connie said with undisguised excitement. “Matthew designed it and Mick’s crew built it. There’s a view of the bay from your room. I’ve put all your things in there, but I thought maybe you’d like to redecorate it while you’re here. We could go shopping, pick out paint and curtains, a new bedspread.”

Jenny frowned. “Mom, I’m staying with Bree and Jake. I thought you understood that.”

“I know that was the plan, but I’d hoped maybe, now that we’ve talked, you’d want to come home, at least for a while. Thomas is so anxious to get to know you better. And your little brother is over the moon that you’re back. He thinks it’s very cool having a big sister.”

Jenny shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “Not yet.”

She hated the unmistakable sorrow her response put into her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I just wouldn’t be comfortable there.”

“Why not?” Connie pressed. “It’s your home.”

Jenny shook her head. “Grandma’s house where I grew up, where you and I lived when it was just the two of us—that was home. I imagine you sold it, though,” she said, unable to keep a note of bitterness out of her voice.

“No, I kept it,” her mother said softly. “Jake’s kept up the yard. Thomas has had Mick come in and make a few repairs and updates. He had it painted.” She held Jenny’s gaze. “He thought, we both did, that you might like to have it someday if you ever came back here to live.”

Jenny’s heart seemed to go still at the enormity of the gesture. “You saved Grandma’s house for me?” she whispered, incredulous. “Even though you knew I might never come back here?”

“I always hoped you would,” her mother said simply. “Maybe not to live, but it’s a great town for vacations.” She shrugged, looking embarrassed. “And Chesapeake Shores is home. At least I hope you’ll always think of it that way. I hope you’ll remember how much you once loved it here.”

“Jake and Bree never said a word,” she said, amazed. “And just now, until I mentioned it, you were pushing for me to stay with you.”

“Bree and Jake knew I wanted it to be a surprise. Plus, I guess I was hoping to maybe have you under my roof for just a little bit before you went off to your own place. If you want the keys now, though, you can have them. I brought them with me this morning.”

“Mom, I honestly don’t know what to say,” Jenny said, filled with a mix of gratitude and dismay that she’d thought her mother didn’t understand how she felt about that old house. She didn’t even want to think about what it meant that Thomas had understood as well. That he had shown such kindness to her, despite how aloof she’d remained, gave her a rare bit of insight into why her mom had fallen for him so hard.

Her mother’s smile was tinged with sorrow. “I take it you want the keys.”

“Absolutely,” she said at once. Not only was that house the only home she remembered, it would provide a refuge as she tried to figure out how to fit in with this new and overwhelming family.

Her mother fished in her purse and came up with a set of keys on a Chesapeake Shores souvenir key ring. She pressed them into Jenny’s hand, then enfolded it in her own. “We’ll transfer the deed into your name while you’re here, if you decide you want to keep it. Connor can take care of the paperwork.”

“Can we go see it now?” Jenny asked, unable to contain her excitement, even though she could see that her reaction was hurting her mom. Connie might have made this magnanimous gesture, but it was clear she’d hoped Jenny wouldn’t want to take advantage of it so quickly. Though she hid her disappointment reasonably well, Jenny could see through her act.

Because she didn’t want to deal with all the undercurrents, she forced a smile. “I rode by yesterday and saw that it looked like it had a new coat of paint. I was glad to see that someone was taking good care of it.”

“Then you can thank Thomas and your uncle for that when you see them.” Connie hesitated. “Will you at least think about coming to dinner at the new house tonight, so you can do that? I’ll make spaghetti or a pot roast, whatever you want, though I think pot roast is probably on the menu at Mick’s for Sunday dinner.”

Jenny desperately wanted to put off her first encounter with her new stepfather until Sunday when they’d at least be surrounded by a crowd of O’Briens, but maybe this would be better. There’d be no watchful gazes, no people ready to jump in to defend Thomas from any cutting remark she might make. Not that she would do such a thing intentionally. They’d both walked on eggshells whenever they were together for her mother’s sake. It would almost have been better if they’d blurted out whatever was on their minds and then dealt with the fallout.

“What time?” she asked her mother eventually.

The smile that spread across her mother’s face was worth any discomfort the evening was likely to bring, Jenny concluded, glad that she’d said yes. Now she just had to make a real effort to open her heart to the man who’d given her mom the bright future she’d never dared to envision.

“How about seven? Thomas is usually home from Annapolis by then. Now that he has Kevin on board, Thomas runs the foundation from home a lot of the time. Today just happened to be one of the days he needed to go into the office for meetings.”

“Has Mick finally accepted the fact that one of his sons is working for Thomas?” Jenny inquired curiously. “I know he hated it when Kevin first said that’s what he wanted to do, rather than working with Mick or doing something else right here in Chesapeake Shores.”

“Oh, Mick blustered for a few months, but he’s admitted more than once that he’s proud of the work both of them are doing to preserve the bay.”

“And he didn’t choke on the words?” Jenny asked incredulously.

“No. Mick’s mellowed now that he’s back with Megan and mostly retired. You’ll see.”

Jenny found it hard to imagine that the hard-driving man she’d known had eased into retirement that readily. “I’ll bet he’s still in his office poking around whenever he can.”

Connie laughed. “Matthew can attest to that. He says his uncle drives them all crazy. He still wants status reports on every development project they have going around the country.”

“His name is on the company,” Jenny said, understanding that sort of pride of ownership. She often found it painful to relinquish control of her songs once she’d sold the rights. One of the great things about collaborating with Caleb had been his willingness to let her hang around through the recording sessions. He’d claimed to appreciate the occasional insights she’d dared to offer about phrasing or holding a note for emphasis.

“Your uncle’s the same way about this place,” Connie acknowledged. “Jake put me in charge of operations and I know he trusts me to get the job done, but he does have his moments when he tries to micromanage every detail.”

“Will you ask him and Bree to come to dinner tonight, too?” she said, needing the reassurance of familiar faces. “I’ll want to thank him for what he’s done to the house.”

“Anything you want,” Connie agreed readily. “If that will make you more comfortable, I’ll see to it they’re there. With Sean and Emily Rose around, the adults may not get a word in edgewise. Maybe that’s for the best for now.”

“Thanks.” She knew it wouldn’t completely quiet her nerves, but it would be comforting.

Connie gave her a knowing look. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. I promise. We’re family. You’ve known Thomas most of your life.”

But he’d only been her stepfather for a few years, most of them in her absence. That was a huge adjustment to make when she thought about him and one she had yet to fully accept. Clearly, though, the time had come to make a real effort.

* * *

Bree tucked her cell phone back into her pocket and regarded Jenny curiously. “Dinner at your mom’s tonight?”

Jenny nodded. “I couldn’t say no. It would have been like kicking a puppy or something, especially after she told me about renovating our old house and keeping it for me.”

Bree’s eyes lit up. “She finally told you about that? Keeping quiet when you and I have talked these past few weeks has been killing me. Have you seen it?”

“We walked through on the way over here. The renovations are amazing. It’s a lot more than a fresh coat of paint, which was what I’d been expecting. They even put in a whole new kitchen with granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances. And the bathrooms are straight out of a design magazine.”

“Isn’t the whole place amazing?” Bree said. “Dad thought of every detail. There are advantages to having a famous architectural genius in the family.”

“I’ll say. He even managed to expand the master bath and put in a huge walk-in shower, plus a Jacuzzi. When I look at it, it’s hard to remember how tiny the old one used to be. I can hardly wait to climb into that tub with a glass of wine and soak till I shrivel up like a prune.”

“It’s big enough for two,” Bree commented. “Jake and I tested it.”

Jenny laughed. “Of course you did.”

“Well, I needed him to see how essential it was to have one put into our house.”

“The experiment paid off?”

“Oh, yeah,” Bree said, her cheeks turning pink. “Just so you know, we raced home to our own bed. That fancy king-size bed in your place hasn’t been slept in.”

“Good to know,” Jenny replied, amused by their sense of decorum. “Now, can we focus on these lyrics? What do you think of what I’ve written so far?”

“They’re amazing,” Bree said enthusiastically. “They capture the tone of the play and the whole holiday spirit in exactly the right way. I can’t wait for the cast to hear them. The professionals will be here next week. I’ve already been doing readings with the locals since it takes them a little longer to nail down their lines. Think you can have these songs polished up by Monday? That’ll give us three full weeks of rehearsals. We open three days before Christmas and run through New Year’s Eve. No shows on Christmas Eve or Christmas day, though.”

“Even so, that’s a lot of performances,” Jenny said, surprised. “You can fill the theater that many nights?”

“And two Saturday matinees,” Bree confirmed. “We’re virtually sold out. We have a lot more season ticket holders than I ever imagined and the Christmas play always draws from the entire region. People are anxious for a holiday event the whole family can enjoy at a reasonable price.”

“Bree, that’s fantastic! Congratulations!” she said, genuinely thrilled for her.

Bree grinned. “I have to say when Jake and I first talked about my opening a theater here, I wasn’t a believer. I wasn’t convinced it would last a year. Yet here we are in year five. We’ve even gotten some great reviews from critics in Washington and Baltimore, too.”

“Okay, I know you’re not one to rest on your laurels. What’s next?”

“I want to write an original play with Broadway or at least off-Broadway potential,” Bree said at once, then grinned. “When I dream, I dream big.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Jenny said. “And that’s not exactly a new dream. You’ve been working toward it your entire career. You deserve whatever success comes your way.”

“Thanks.” Bree glanced at her watch. “I need to get onstage and start running lines with the cast. You’re okay here in the rehearsal hall?”

“I have my guitar and some paper. That’s all I need,” Jenny confirmed. “Go create magic.”

Bree laughed. “You do the same.”

Jenny thought of all the times when she’d struggled to find the perfect word or the perfect note. And it still thrilled her when she heard one of her songs on the radio. Now that, she thought with a smile on her lips, truly was magic.