Take Me Home KO PL

by Barbara Freethy

  "I felt the same way about my father."

  She nodded, knowing that Max understood her feelings better than anyone. "I know you had it rough, too."

  "I did, and I didn't have a great stepfather willing to step in the way you did."

  "Jack was amazing. And growing up as a Callaway truly changed my life. Suddenly, I had a stepdad who was around all the time, and four crazy, bull-headed brothers and then twin siblings. I went from a quiet, dark, unhappy house into a chaotic rainbow of love, family dinners, and huge Sunday gatherings with more cousins than I could count. Maybe I treasure the family so much because I still remember what it was like not to have that kind of love surrounding me."

  "That makes sense. When you know what you have to lose, you protect it more."

  "I know things are changing in the family. We're all getting older and people are starting their own families and splitting off to see relatives on the other side, but I don't want to lose what we have. I want to be the glue that keeps everyone together the way Grandma wants, but…"

  "But what?" he asked curiously.

  "But I want more than siblings and cousins and nieces and nephews."

  He put his arms around her and gazed into her eyes. "You'll be a mother, Emma—you need to believe that."

  "I'm trying. I'm hoping maybe I'll find some better luck in Ireland. Maybe a four-leaf clover or a pot of gold or a leprechaun eager to grant some wishes," she said lightly.

  He smiled. "I wouldn't be surprised if you found any one of those. Since I met you, Emma, I have learned to believe in the impossible. Are you ready to meet Maeve?"

  "Yes, let's do it."

  They walked up the cobblestone path to the front door. She rang the bell and a few minutes later, the door opened and a little girl peered out at them. She was probably about seven or eight and had a mass of curly red hair that fell down to her waist. Her eyes were as blue as the Irish sky, and she had fair skin and freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks.

  "Hello," Emma said, giving her a friendly smile. "I'm Emma. What's your name?"

  "Shannon," the girl said, not a hint of shyness about her.

  "Shannon, I told you not to open the door without me," a woman said, a stern note in her voice as she appeared in the doorway behind the little girl.

  Shannon darted past the woman and ran back inside.

  The woman gave them a long look. She had short white hair, a square, plain face, and a pair of dark eyes that were very thoughtful. "Well, well, you must be Emma and Max."

  "We are," she replied. "I guess my grandmother told you we'd be coming."

  "Yes, she did. I'm Aileen Brennan. I'm Maeve's housekeeper. Please come in. Maeve is very eager to meet you. I'll tell her you're here."

  "Thanks."

  As Aileen went up the stairs, Emma walked into the living room. The furniture was very old, two couches appearing to be from another lifetime, with carved wood legs and backs and floral upholstery. There was a brick fireplace that took up most of one wall and a smoldering fire still sparked on the grate. Despite the lingering remnants of heat, the house felt rather cold and a little sad, as if the life was slowly seeping out of it.

  "I'm not sure I can picture my grandmother here," she said to Max, wrapping her arms around her waist. She wore jeans and a light striped sweater over a camisole top, but now she wished for a heavier coat.

  "She lived here a very long time ago." He walked over to a wall lined with black-and-white photographs. "I think this is her."

  She joined him in front of the picture seeing her grandmother around age twelve with another little girl as well as two adults. It looked like a family picture but her grandmother was an only child. "That must be Grandma and her parents, but who's the girl?"

  "Don't know. But the four of them are here again at the beach."

  "Look at those crazy bathing suits," she said with a laugh. "No wonder Grandma never liked my string bikinis."

  "I haven't seen you in a string bikini," Max said with an arch of his brow. "But I'd like to."

  "Not going to happen this trip." She paused. "Look, this must be her horse Pepper." She pointed to the picture of her grandmother as a young teenager riding a huge black horse. "She said she and Pepper used to ride all over the hills of Ireland. He was her escape whenever she felt sad."

  "I didn't know she rode."

  "I don't think she did after she came to the States. She got busy with a husband and six children and all the community events she organized—the movie theater group that was a cover for helping women of domestic violence." She'd learned about that group a few years ago and had been shocked that her grandmother had been involved in such a dangerous endeavor.

  "Eleanor doesn't shy away from living life," Max said.

  "No, she doesn't. It's easy to think about her just as a grandmother and a mother, but she did so many other things, too." She paused, pointing to a glamorous shot of her grandmother taken probably when she was about sixteen. The background was a stage, and she appeared to be acting out a scene. "This must be from her even earlier acting days. She was really beautiful, wasn't she?"

  "She still is. That sparkle in her eyes is always there, unless…" His voice trailed away.

  "Unless she's not there," Emma finished. "That's the thing I miss the most when she disappears into her head. Whenever I think of her, I think of those twinkly blue eyes and that wide, generous smile. It's going to be really hard to say good-bye."

  "You're not saying good-bye. You're taking a trip down memory lane for her. So let's take a picture."

  "Oh, good idea," she said. "In front of the fireplace."

  "I'll take a shot of you."

  "No, we'll do the both of us." They posed in front of the fireplace for a selfie and then Max insisted on taking a picture of her sitting on the couch and another standing by her grandmother's stage photograph.

  Then Aileen appeared in the doorway. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Maeve wanted to come downstairs, but she's feeling a little weak today. The cancer came back several months ago. She's battling, but it's a difficult fight. Do you mind coming up to her room?"

  "No, of course not," Emma said. "I'm sorry to hear she's ill."

  "She hasn't given up."

  "Good."

  "Why don't you go without me?" Max suggested, lagging behind. "I feel like this is a moment for you and Maeve to have together."

  She hesitated, meeting his gaze. "Are you sure?"

  He nodded. "Positive. I'll wait down here."

  Emma followed Aileen up the stairs and into the master bedroom. The large room with the king-sized bed against the wall was a bit brighter than the rest of the house as the drapes over the windows were open. The thin, frail woman sitting against a half-dozen pillows in the king-sized bed had a lovely view of the bay.

  As she moved toward the bed, she got a better look at her grandmother's best friend. Maeve was thin and fragile with wispy, short, silvery-gray hair, dark-brown eyes, and very pale skin. She wore a colorful robe over her nightgown but it was clear she was not feeling her best.

  "Emma?" she asked.

  "Yes, I'm Emma. It's so nice to meet you."

  "And you," Maeve said, putting out her hand.

  Emma gave her bony fingers a squeeze, feeling as if she pressed too hard she could break her fragile bones.

  "I'll leave you two alone," Aileen said. "Ring the bell if you need anything."

  "Thank you," Emma said.

  "I can't quite believe you're here," Maeve mused. "Your grandmother told me you were coming, that you were bringing something very special, but I wasn't really sure you'd come or that I'd still be here when you did."

  "Well, I'm here, and my grandmother asked me to give you this." She handed the small jewelry box to Maeve.

  The elderly woman's hand trembled as she took the box. "Did she tell you what's inside?"

  "No, she didn't."

  "Sit," Maeve said, patting the bed next to her.

  Emma perched on the side
of the bed as Maeve opened the box and pulled out a small silver chain. At the end of the chain was half of a heart.

  Maeve closed her fingers over the heart and then pressed it to her chest. Emotion ran through her now teary eyes. She drew in a breath and let it out. "This is the other half of my heart." She pulled open her nightgown to reveal the same simple chain and half of a heart charm around her neck. "Would you help me put it on, dear?"

  "Of course." As Maeve leaned forward, she fastened the necklace for her.

  Maeve sat back, fingering both small chains, both halves of the heart. "Did Ellie tell you the story of how we got these?"

  "No, I think she wanted you to tell me."

  "Ellie and I met when we were in our first year of school. We were five years old. We were instantly best friends. And our parents were friends, too. However, when I was twelve, my parents were killed in a plane crash. I didn't have any other relatives, and for a while I was placed in an orphanage. I was terrified and sad. My whole life had changed. And then one day Ellie came to see me. She gave me this necklace. She told me that one day we'd be together again; she was going to make it happen." Maeve paused and heaved a little sigh.

  "I wanted to believe her because Ellie did have a way of making things happen, but this seemed too big of a job, even for her. But three weeks later, Ellie was back, and her parents were with her." A smile blossomed across Maeve's weathered face. "They told me that they were going to adopt me, because Ellie and I were sisters of the heart. Now we would be real sisters. I don't know how Ellie talked her parents into taking on the raising of another child, but she did."

  "My grandmother never takes no for an answer."

  "That's true."

  "You're the little girl in the pictures downstairs," Emma said. "I wondered. I knew my grandmother was an only child. I don't know that I ever heard the story about your adoption."

  "It was a long time ago," Maeve said. "Ellie and her parents were a wonderful second family. I didn’t share their blood, but they treated me as if I did. Their generosity and love were amazing. I never needed or wanted for anything." She cleared her throat. "I thought we'd all stay together forever, but Ellie had a dream to go to America. She wanted to live a bigger life than I did. I was far too fearful to leave the land I knew, the town I felt comfortable in, the people I loved. So I stayed behind. Sometimes I regret that."

  Maeve touched the two necklaces again. "Whenever I was feeling lonely for her, I'd put my fingers around my half of the heart, and I could hear her laughter, her voice chiding me to stop brooding, to live my life, to have joy. She was always so positive, and she was very loyal to her family and her friends. Her favorite Irish saying was 'may your right hand always be stretched out in friendship and never in want,'" Maeve said with a smile. "Ellie always had her hand out to offer support, kindness, love—and adventure. She was something else. Still is something else. I don't know why I'm talking about her like she's gone; it's just that I miss her so much, more lately, as my life winds down."

  "What was she like as a young girl?" Emma asked.

  "Joyful, eager, impatient, a little bossy at times, very outgoing, and pretty as a picture. She had the boys lined up."

  "I'll bet."

  "I met your grandfather several times. He was a handsome one, too. As soon as I saw the love between them, I knew she'd found her perfect match."

  "They're a very strong couple," Emma said. "I look up to both of them."

  Maeve looked into Emma's eyes, her gaze concerned. "How is Ellie really? I still get letters and the occasional email or phone calls but many months pass in between, and her husband told me a year or so ago that she was losing her mind and her memories. I couldn't bear the thought of your grandmother becoming a shadow. Someone so vibrant couldn't just disappear."

  "It's been hard to watch her lose track of where she is, who she knows," Emma admitted. "We try to hold on to the good days. She's been better lately."

  "I'm so glad." Maeve tilted her head, giving her a thoughtful look. "She told me she was sending you here because you needed the trip, and she needed me to have her heart, to know that she was fighting for me to get better even though she couldn't be here. I told her no—I wanted her to keep her half, but she insisted. I still feel like I should send it back with you."

  "My grandmother would not be happy with me if I brought it back," Emma said.

  "That's true. Ellie always had a stubborn streak." Maeve paused. "This is your first trip to Ireland?"

  "Yes, I got in last night. I'm excited to see as much as I can. And meeting you and being in the house where Grandma grew up is so special to me."

  Maeve gave her a somewhat regretful smile. "I've let things go a bit in recent years. Aileen keeps everything clean, but I haven't had much extra money for repairs and such."

  "It's still a lovely home. I enjoyed looking at the photos downstairs. I heard a lot about Grandma's horse Pepper over the years."

  "She loved that horse and cried for days after they had to put Pepper down. She'd still ride, but she never found the same joy. Did she ever ride with you or your parents?"

  "Not that I recall. But she was always busy. She and my grandfather started a huge family."

  "She always loved kids and family. I think that was partly why she tried so hard to get me into the family. She didn't like being an only child. She wanted a sister."

  "Did her parents ever consider having more children?"

  "I don't know. I don't think so. Donald, Ellie's father, was a teacher and I think he thought of his students as his surrogate children. Her mother was also very active with the school and with us. She liked to garden and cook and host small dinner parties for friends and neighbors. We didn't have a lot of material things, but our lives were filled with warmth and love and laughter."

  "It sounds wonderful," she said, feeling like she could almost hear the sounds of her grandparents moving around the house, her great-grandfather having students over after school, her great-grandmother baking bread and weeding out the garden and Ellie and Maeve running around as happy, carefree young girls.

  "It was wonderful. I was lucky to be adopted by the Raffertys. They changed my life."

  "Did you ever marry?" Emma asked tentatively, not sure how much she should pry into Maeve's life.

  "I did. I married Reggie when I was twenty-three years old. He was a butcher, like his father and grandfather before him. He died six years ago. We had a daughter, Audrey, a granddaughter, Melanie, and a great-granddaughter, Shannon."

  "Shannon is the little girl downstairs? The one with the wild red curls?"

  "That's her. She has more energy than anyone I've ever met." Maeve's expression filled with sadness. "Two years ago, we suffered a terrible tragedy. My daughter and granddaughter were killed and Shannon was left all alone, so she came here to live with me. I was happy to have her, but since the cancer came back, I've been thinking about trying to track down her biological father. He has never been in the picture and I know little about him, except his name. But I worry what will happen to Shannon when I'm gone. I just don't know how to find him. He lives in the States."

  "I could possibly help or my husband could. Max is a police detective. We live in San Francisco."

  "I believe Shannon's father is in California, but I don't know if he's a good man," she added worriedly. "What if I find him and send her to him, and he's not a man who will be a good father? There might be a reason why Shannon's mother, my granddaughter, kept him out of Shannon's life. I wish now I had asked more questions, but I didn't think it was my business."

  "I understand. Why don't we take it one step at a time? Do you know his name?"

  "Mitch Walker. My granddaughter met him at a bar in Los Angeles. He was a bartender. But that's all I know."

  "That's a good start. We'll look into it, and we'll let you know what we find. We don't have to contact anyone until you feel comfortable."

  "I just don't know how much time I have left," Maeve said. "I'm not trying
to be morbid. I haven't given up, but my age and the recurrence of my disease is not working in my favor. I'm not afraid of what's next, except for what will happen to Shannon. Aileen adores her, but she can't take on raising a child that young. I remember what it was like to live in an orphanage, to be a child without a family, until your grandmother and your great-grandparents rescued me. I don't want Shannon to go through that."

  "I'll do all I can to help."

  Maeve nodded, relief in her eyes. "Ellie said she was sending someone to see me who might be able to help me."

  Emma suddenly realized that her grandmother had had her own agenda for this visit, but she didn't mind. If she could help Maeve, she would. "I'm happy to offer whatever assistance I can."

  "You're a lovely girl to be so generous and kind. Is your husband with you?"

  "He's actually downstairs. He didn't want to intrude."

  "Well, that was thoughtful. I wish I'd felt more able to get dressed and come downstairs. Perhaps you can come back tomorrow or the next day, and we'll talk more."

  "I would love to do that. I'd also like to bring my oldest brother Burke and my cousin, Ian who are also on the trip. They were assigned to go different places today by my grandmother, but I know that they'd love to meet you and see the house."

  "Bring them tomorrow. I'll be better then."

  "I will. I'll let you rest now."

  "What else do you have planned for today?"

  "I'm not sure. I want to see all the places that were special to my grandmother. Do you have any suggestions?"

  Maeve smiled. "She loved Kenmare and all the beaches and meadows and hills around it. Every place was special to her, but one of the most special is the church just down the road. You can walk from here. It's only about a quarter-mile. Her parents were married there. There's also a small cemetery behind the church where they were buried, along with some of her other relatives. It's sad, but you might want to see how deep your roots go."