“We probably should get up,” Rachel interrupted his thoughts, her blue eyes still sad, but she looked at him with longing. “As fun as it would be to lay in bed with you all day, we need to go over to your parents’ place for lunch.”
It was Sunday, and the following weekend would be Father’s Day. They would be married two weeks after that; the thought had settled well into his mind. Liam wasn’t the least bit nervous and had never been surer about anything in his entire life. Granted, the wedding was still over three weeks away. With the added stress from Rachel’s family factored in, he might be more of wreck, but knowing that he would get to grow old with the beautiful woman next to him, well, that made it all worth it.
As Rachel attempted to slip out of their bed, he pulled her down toward him. They still had a little time, and he knew exactly how he wanted to spend it.
***
Maggie
Maggie brought out a large glass bowl of potato salad to the table that been set up in the backyard. The family was gathered outside. No one could resist the temptation of the warm weather. It just beckoned them to the massive deck right outside the O’Brien kitchen. After setting the dish down, she gazed out at the lush yard, which was a remarkable shade of green. Melanie and the twins were playing, their screams of happiness a little louder than Maggie would have liked, but they were kids. She felt a sudden, hard kick in her belly.
“You okay?” Michael came up behind her and asked.
“Yes, just getting beaten up by your child.” Maggie and Michael both laughed as he placed his hands on her growing belly.
Dropping his head a little lower to her waist, he whispered, “You be nice to your mother.” His words were met with another powerful kick, causing them to both laugh again.
Maggie was finally starting to enjoy the pregnancy. The start had been anything but perfect; she had been overcome by wicked morning sickness, her marriage had been on shaky ground, and she had left Seattle. Now life was moving along smoothly, as was the pregnancy. These were the good months, the second trimester, when she felt like an actual human again. She was almost six months along and starting to show. Maggie looked over at Rachel, who was a little over four months along. Rachel and Liam were seated in patio chairs and appeared to be lost in their own world. She couldn’t believe that Liam and Rachel were getting married in three weeks; there was still so much to be done. Maggie couldn’t have asked for a better future sister-in-law and was thrilled they were also pregnant together, and it seemed to cement their already strong bond.
Maggie saw her other brothers, Daniel and Patrick, who were also seated out near the yard, looking completely relaxed as they chatted loudly with their father and Grandpa Paddy. Their animated expressions were met with laughter as Daniel told one of his tales. Her brother was always exaggerating everyday occurrences and was the teller of many legends. You never could quite tell if the stories he was telling were true or not, but if nothing else, they were always entertaining.
“You probably should go sit for a while,” Michael said, his hand perched on the lower curve of her back.
“I’m fine, I need to go help my mom in the kitchen. Don’t worry about me so much.” She reached up on the tips of her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. Maggie was met with rich, mocha-colored eyes that were filled with concern.
“Sorry, I can’t help it.” He moved his head down, his lips brushing against hers as his arms pulled her closer to him.
Maggie was thankful that their life was on the right path. They had been so close to losing their deep connection and love, they almost hadn’t made it. But now, they were enjoying their new home, which Michael had insisted they purchase, and they were decorating a nursery with muted neutral tones since they wanted the gender of the baby to be a surprise, just as it had been with Melanie. Michael still hadn’t really opened his practice in town; he had taken on a couple of clients here and there, but overall he spent the majority of his time with his family. He was able to finally relax. He’d discovered he truly loved fishing and spending time with her brothers. Maggie thanked God daily for saving her marriage, and she couldn’t wait for them to add more children to their family.
***
Michael
He watched Maggie walked back inside the house, and he turned to join the rest of the men that were seated outside. Michael was growing comfortable in their new life and wondered often why he had ever resisted the idea of moving to Birch Valley. It had been the best thing for their family. Melanie was happy and thriving, Maggie was glowing, and their marriage felt stronger than ever. When they lived in Seattle, the thought of being surrounded by her family had scared him a little. Maybe it was because his family was hardly like hers, and the constant feeling of togetherness at first seemed odd to Michael. Now he wanted his own family to feel the same way.
Michael plopped down into an empty chair. He inhaled the sweet scent of lilacs that filled the air. Beautiful trees were lined up against the fence in the back yard, their delicate flowers withered and dying. The unusually warm weather was the culprit. Michael had chatted with some associates back in Seattle. It was hot and borderline miserable. If weather was the only thing to complain about, that suited him just fine. He relished his new life; no more insanely long hours at the office, missing everyday moments, and having Maggie upset with him. He learned that simple was sometimes best, and he was getting used to the much slower pace of life in Birch Valley, but he was happy. The one thing he still missed about Seattle was coffee. He still hadn’t found anything that compared to some of his favorite coffee shops.
“It’s a little warm today,” Michael commented as he took a long, leisurely sip of his canned soda.
“It’s a wee warm, I agree. But better than rain,” Grandpa Paddy replied, raising his own drink.
“Can’t argue with you there, Grandpa Paddy.” Michael lifted his can slightly.
One thing Michael had discovered about living in the eastern side of Washington state was that the weather was temperamental. He thought Seattle had a funny weather pattern, but that was nothing compared to Birch Valley. The sun could be shining brightly one moment, pouring down buckets of rain the next, possibly even hail, and then go right back to be down right warm and balmy. So far with the beginning of summer of approaching it had mainly been warm, far hotter than Seattle, and Michael was trying to acclimate.
“Everyone ready to eat?” Mary called out from the deck. The entire family, children included, hurried toward the long table, where a platter of fried chicken sat in the middle, along with large dishes filled with several cold salads, and a basket of homemade biscuits. That was another thing Michael was grateful for; they hardly had to eat take-out now. Maggie was learning how to cook like her mother, and then with all the shared family meals, Michael was starting to consider joining the small gym in town.
***
Patrick
Patrick carried Finn out of the SUV and planted him on one of the couches in the living room, and he quickly went back outside to retrieve a sleeping Connor. Sundays always wore the kids out; all the playing and eating just tuckered them out. The boys were usually fast asleep before they left the driveway of his parents’ home. Patrick went back to his car to bring in some leftovers his mother insisted that he take home, like every Sunday. He wasn’t sure why he even bothered trying to argue with her. She had been giving him leftovers every Sunday since he had moved out. But he was thankful, because it usually meant he didn’t have to cook for a day or two, and it made the start of his work week a lot smoother.
After tucking away the various plastic containers filled with chicken and cold salads in the fridge, Patrick grabbed a beer and went out to his back deck. He sat down on the porch swing and absorbed the quiet. The sky was a pale tint of violet as night and a few twinkling stars began to emerge. He glanced at his watch and noticed the time was nearing nine. This was one of the great things about summer; it got dark late. He raised the bottle to his mouth and took a long leisurely sip and n
oticed a deer silently walking into his yard. It stopped to look at him briefly, before gnawing away at the grass, unconcerned with his presence. The area was full of wildlife that made themselves quite at home in everyone’s yards. He had seen deer use the crosswalk in town, and the thought made him laugh. Only in a place like Birch Valley would you see something like that. As Patrick swung slowly on the swing, he felt himself being lulled to sleep. He felt relaxed, almost content, which wasn’t a feeling he got to experience often. His mind was tame, and that’s when visions of Amber decided to appear. He could see her sea-green eyes, which were like small lagoons, clear and bright but filled with mystery. Patrick had a hard time believing that he never really noticed her before, that they’d gone to the same school. Granted, she was in Liam’s class, and hadn’t run in the same social circle as Beth and Patrick. But how could he not have noticed such a beautiful girl? Because he had been madly in love with Beth, the blonde goddess of Birch Valley.
Thoughts of Beth pushed any of Amber aside. He remembered how much everyone loved his wife. She was kind and outgoing, and calling her pretty had been an understatement, with her classic girl-next-door looks. She was the center of attention, studious, outrageously popular, and head-over-heels in love with Patrick. In high school he only had eyes for her. Though many of the girls did anything they could to get his attention, he only wanted Beth. They were voted the cutest couple multiple times, and everyone knew that they were meant to be together.
They both graduated and went to the same college in the lower, eastern part of Washington, where their relationship continued to flourish. They both knew what kind of life they wanted, and that it would be back in Birch Valley. Patrick understood that it was his job to take over the family business eventually, even Beth helped at the shop, where she used her accounting skills. They both wanted what their parents each had—a loving and strong marriage. They wanted children and a simple life. Beth and Patrick just wanted to be happy and be together. He didn’t feel that they had asked for much.
After returning to Birch Valley, they married and immediately set out to make their dreams of starting a family a reality. Months turned into years, which then turned into visits to the doctor, then to a specialist, all of which were met with frustration and tears. The strain of not having children put their marriage to the test. They’d had to answer questions about why they didn’t have kids yet, which only made matters worse. Beth blamed herself, and finally, one day, it happened. It was as though all their prayers that had gone ignored for so long had finally been answered. When they found out about their pregnancy, they were back on track to have the life that they were planned for, the life they were meant for. But fate decided to step in again and rearrange and alter their plans. There would be no getting back on track; their plans were permanently derailed.
Patrick downed the last of the contents in his bottle, the feelings of relaxation gone. He took this as a sign of punishment for even thinking about Amber. He didn’t even know her. What kind of person was she? He knew nothing about the dark-haired woman, other than she was sexy as hell, and had sprouted feelings of desire and need in him that had long been dormant. He knew the moment she had said she was moving to Birch Valley he was in trouble, big trouble, and he wasn’t sure he minded it all that much. Maybe it was the beer or sheer exhaustion that clouded his reasoning, but he wondered. What would it be like to be with someone else? He hadn’t asked himself that question before.
Chapter Five
Amber
Putting the apron on and standing in front of the grill, Amber was overcome with various emotions. She never thought she would be cooking at Herrick’s diner again, but this was important. After only having arrived a little more than two days ago, she had learned just how needed she really was here. She couldn’t help the stinging tears that threatened to spill as her thoughts traveled back to the first day she arrived. She had been told that her father wasn’t feeling well, but the details had been left out, and now she knew why. Her father had cancer.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Amber was thankful for the distraction of cooking, even if her heart wasn’t in it. She had always loved cooking; food brought so much comfort and joy to people. That’s why, when her husband died and the joy was drained from her, she had no desire to cook anything, at least from scratch. Everything was either take-out, in a cardboard box, or frozen. Dylan had quit asking her to make his favorite dishes, as her answer had always been the same. Amber would make an excuse, find some sort of reason for not being able to provide whatever desired dish he’d asked for. The truth was she could barely manage to survive menial tasks. Getting through the day was hard enough. She was thankful that she was able to work from home; she had been a blogger and did freelance writing. Amber was able to crawl out of her grief and work through her muddy mixture of emotions through journaling. Writing was what had saved her.
But now there she stood, in front of a grill, its stainless steel exterior shiny and hot. She almost didn’t know where to begin.
“Looks like an order for breakfast, hon,” her mother called out as she pasted a bright yellow paper ticket on the spinning, metal carousel that held orders. Amber snatched a glance at the order: pancakes and scrambled eggs. Simple enough. It was now or never. Her body went into auto-pilot as she poured the batter onto the griddle. The bubbling mixture let out a sweet fragrance. The yellow, gooey blend of eggs sizzled as she scraped it on the hot steel. She could do this.
More orders poured in, and her mother gave her encouraging smiles throughout the day. Amber realized how much she had missed cooking, dominating a kitchen, and creating food that people enjoyed. She found herself smiling a couple of times. She would remember all the times she had spent in that very kitchen, in tight corners with her father, where they used to talk about everything under the sun as they worked together to quickly cook up orders. She had a lot of good memories at the diner and now was questioning her reasons for leaving. But if she had stayed, she never would have met Peter Mills, the man she missed every single day for almost two years.
As she scrubbed the steel surface of the grill, using her anger to clean the burnt remnants of food from the day of cooking, she tried to expel the thick feelings of frustration with each motion she made. Her mind lost in thought, she recalled the day she had learned her husband had been killed.
She had been washing dishes, Dylan engrossed in his homework, sitting at the dining room table in their small home in Portland, when the doorbell rang. When she had opened the door and saw two policemen standing there in the light drizzle, sympathetic looks hanging on their faces, she knew the truth before they even had to utter a word. Peter was gone. He had been on the Portland P.D. before he had even met her. He came from a family of men that were all in law enforcement, and it’d only seemed natural that he would follow in their footsteps. Amber had met Peter at a local bar, when she had been there with a small group of friends she had made from work. Their eyes connected, and he had approached her. After laughing for hours and finding they had nothing in common, they never spent another day apart, until that moment when his buddies stood in her doorway. Their lives had been robbed.
“You almost ready to head home, dear?” her mother, Lynn, called from a distance, bringing Amber back to reality.
“Yeah, Mom.”
They locked up the diner, got inside Lynn’s pick-up truck, and headed home, which was only a couple of blocks away. Amber planned on riding her bike to work. She needed to, as it had been part of her routine back in Portland, and it was one of the ways she tried to exercise. It was actually the only form of exercise that she didn’t mind. Sit-ups, no thanks; jogging, not likely. But riding offered more than toned legs; it gave her a sense of freedom and peace.
“Dylan seemed happy when he came into the diner today.”
To Amber, he seemed anything but happy. He had started his first day at the junior high in Birch Valley, and he’d walked to the diner after school, where his grandmother spoiled him with an
enormous strawberry shake. Amber chatted with him during a brief lull but had to get back to work, and only learned from Dylan that he wasn’t thrilled about his new school or not having any friends. She hoped to learn more about how his day went, and she wanted to reassure him that school would only be in session for two more weeks. He could survive this.
“So, Mom, do you know of any homes for rent?” Amber asked as they turned onto their street.
“Why? Are you in rush to be in your own place?”
“Well, I just think it might help Dylan adjust better, and now that we are going to be here…”
“I think you guys should stay with us for a little while. You just got here,” her mother said firmly.
“I know we did, but I just want to get settled,” Amber responded. She looked out her window and saw their home coming up. The small Craftsman-style home was similar to all the others on the tree-lined street. It was painted a dark slate color and had black shutters. There was a decent-sized porch, and a beautiful deck in the small backyard that her father had built. But the home was far from large, and living here too long would make Dylan and Amber feel cramped and that they were in the way.
“Amber, I hate asking you to stay. Your father and I are so grateful you have come home to help us out.” Lynn’s voice grew wobbly. “I don’t know what to expect with your father, and it’s just nice for us all to be together right now.”
She had a point. Amber couldn’t argue that her parents would be relying on her now more than ever and that spending any time that they could with her father was important. Her husband had lost his father to cancer, and Amber remembered how difficult that had been for the family. She sort of knew what to expect and hoped that the outcome would be different for her father. Imagining him going through the treatments, the pain, and suffering was more than Amber’s heart could bear.
Patrick's Promise (Cloverleaf #3) Page 5
