Dogwood Hill

by Sherryl Woods

  Liz slid closer to her sister. “This is fine, thanks.”

  “Darn! I was hoping to have a real story for my husband about getting up close and personal with his football hero.”

  “I doubt he’d have been overjoyed about that,” Liz said.

  “Oh, he’d have been no more upset than you,” LeeAnn taunted. “I notice it only took you about two seconds to make sure I didn’t get that close to your guy.”

  She turned to her sister with a frown. “Will you stop that, please! Aidan is not ‘my guy.’”

  To her surprise, she heard a chuckle from her mother.

  “I swear this takes me back to when you were teenagers. LeeAnn knew exactly how to get under your skin. Apparently she still does.”

  Hiding her own smile, Liz challenged her mother. “Are you any better at controlling her now than you were then? Or do I have to come up with some way to keep her quiet so we can enjoy our breakfast in peace?”

  “You girls are old enough to fight your own battles,” her mother replied. “Aidan, do you have siblings?”

  “No, ma’am. I was an only child.”

  “Then you have no idea what you missed,” she told him.

  “You mean the constant squabbling?” Liz asked.

  Her mother gave her a chiding look. “I was thinking about the bond the three of you share. No one knows your history the way the three of you do.”

  Liz turned to Aidan and was surprised to see a hint of real regret in his eyes.

  “You’re right,” he told her mother. “I can’t imagine what that must be like.”

  Since Liz knew the way her mother’s mind worked, she decided to forestall all the likely questions about Aidan’s parents. That would definitely lead down a path it was best not to follow. She knew from experience how upsetting that would be for him.

  She held up her menu. “Have you had a chance to look over the specials yet?”

  “I was leaning toward the waffles before we ever came through the door,” LeeAnn said at once. “And once I got a whiff of that aroma in the air, I was completely sold.”

  “Ditto for me,” Danielle said.

  “Mom?” Liz asked.

  “I probably ought to have the oatmeal,” she said without enthusiasm.

  “Mom, this is a special occasion,” Danielle said. “If I can treat myself to waffles, so can you. You can go back to being healthy when we’re back home.”

  Liz saw her mother’s expression shift from disappointment to resolve.

  “You’re absolutely right. I’ve eaten enough oatmeal this past year to soak up every ounce of cholesterol in the state of North Carolina. I’m having waffles with butter and syrup and I’m going to enjoy every bite.”

  “Way to go, Mom!” LeeAnn said. “And we promise not to tell Dad.”

  “Oh, phooey on that,” she retorted. “Do you think he’s been eating bran flakes and a banana every morning while I’ve been gone? I imagine I’d find the wrapping from a whole pound of bacon in the trash, if I looked.” She sat back, hesitated, then said, “Come to think of it, I want bacon with my waffle, too.”

  Liz stared at her with surprise. “Mom, when was the last time you had bacon?”

  “A week ago,” she replied without a hint of apology, then added piously, “Not for breakfast, of course.”

  “Of course not,” Danielle mocked, laughing. “But how can you possibly have a BLT without the bacon? You know perfectly well once the summer tomatoes start ripening, Mom’s disapproval rating for bacon goes right out the window.”

  “Of course it does,” her mother declared. “You tell me if there’s anything better than a ripe tomato and bacon sandwich on a hot summer day? I doubt you’d turn one down.”

  “Never have,” Danielle quickly agreed.

  Liz turned to Aidan. “I don’t imagine you had a garden growing up in New York.”

  He smiled, his expression nostalgic. “You’d be wrong. My mother commandeered a part of the roof on our apartment building and planted tomatoes, peppers and herbs. You’d be amazed at what can be grown in such a small space.” He looked at her mother. “If gardening’s one of your interests, I think the two of you would have had a lot in common. I still miss those BLTs she used to make when I’d come in from playing.”

  To Liz’s shock, her mother reached across the table and patted his hand. “I’ve left a half dozen ripe tomatoes from my garden with Liz. You make sure she gives you a couple.”

  “Or she could make you a sandwich herself,” LeeAnn suggested slyly. “They do say that the way to a man’s heart—”

  Liz cut her off. “We need to order breakfast,” she said hurriedly, gesturing for Sally.

  Aidan leaned in close and whispered, “I’ll be looking forward to that sandwich.”

  “Maybe you should get my sister to make it for you,” she replied tartly.

  “She’s leaving. You’ll be right here.”

  “I can give you a couple of tomatoes and you can make your own.”

  His hand somehow landed on her thigh, even as he managed to maintain a completely innocent look for the benefit of everyone else at the table. “Not the same, sweetheart. Besides, it’s about time I found out whether you can cook.”

  “A BLT hardly qualifies as cooking,” Liz said with a laugh that came out more as a croak when his sneaky, clever fingers wandered just a little farther up her thigh. Since there was not much she could do to express her distress short of slapping at his hand and causing a scene, she sat back and enjoyed the sensation, praying that no one would notice the heated flush that surely must be climbing up her neck and staining her cheeks.

  She vowed, though, to get even with him later. In fact, she had a couple of fascinating ideas that ought to work quite well. Not a one of them involved fixing him a meal.

  * * *

  Aidan knew he’d been testing Liz’s limits over breakfast. It was the most fun he’d had in a long time. He’d also detected a glint in her eyes that suggested he’d pay later for his impudence. That promised to be fun, too. Her attitude toward him—toward them—was slowly loosening up. He intended to take full advantage of that.

  After breakfast, he walked back to Liz’s with the women and said goodbye as they drove off to return to North Carolina. He noted that Liz actually seemed sorry to see them go.

  “The weekend went better than you’d anticipated, didn’t it?”

  She nodded. “It had its share of surprising moments,” she told him. “I think maybe we finally put some things from the past where they belonged, behind us.”

  “Your mother certainly did a turnaround when it came to me,” he commented as they walked back across the green so Liz could open the store. He glanced her way. “So did you, or am I wrong on both counts?”

  She smiled. “Oh, your charm definitely paid off with my mother.”

  “But?”

  “I think what really did it for my mom was convincing her that it was okay for me to stop grieving my late husband.”

  “How did you accomplish that?” he asked as she unlocked the door to Pet Style.

  Liz sighed. “Maybe that’s something we should discuss when we can really relax and talk.” She seemed to hesitate for a very long time before meeting his gaze. “We could have those BLTs later.”

  “Are you cooking?”

  “I can microwave the bacon and slice the tomatoes,” she told him, sounding as if she were making a magnanimous gesture. “But you have to make your own sandwich.”

  He laughed. “It’s good to know where the line has been drawn. Should I bring wine, dessert? Maybe my own bread?”

  “Actually it wouldn’t hurt for you to pick up a loaf of white bread. I know whole grain is very healthy, so that’s what I have at home, but proper BLTs should be made on plain old white brea
d slathered with mayo.”

  “Agreed,” he said at once. “What time? Six-thirty? Seven?”

  “Make it seven, so I have time to shower and change after I get out of here.”

  “Done.”

  “And maybe you should bring some wine, too. If we’re going to have a particularly heavy conversation, I’m going to need it.”

  Aidan frowned at that. “Liz, I know we’ve promised to bare our souls and all that, but if it’s going to be that difficult for you, I can wait for answers.”

  She shook her head. “No, now’s the time. We need to get this stuff out in the open. It’s the only way we’ll ever know if it’s even possible to move on. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a lot of hang-ups about that. I’ve made some progress recently, but I’m not 100 percent certain they’re behind me.”

  She lifted her gaze to meet his. “How about you?”

  “Not even close,” he admitted. Worse, if full disclosure was on her menu for tonight, he couldn’t share everything anyway. He’d made a promise to Thomas, and no matter how badly he wanted to be open and honest with Liz, he couldn’t do that until they’d found out the truth and agreed that the time had come to share it. He had a feeling the delay, reasonable though it might be, was just one more thing he’d wind up holding against his father.

  * * *

  Liz’s nerves went a little crazy every time she thought about her plans with Aidan. She knew it was time to be open and honest with him about her past, but the thought of telling him about that terrible night, the humiliation of discovering that her marriage was a sham, then the tragic accident that had followed made her sick to her stomach.

  “You look a little green,” Bree commented, coming into the store just before closing. “Too much champagne last night?”

  “No, it was a wonderful party,” Liz said, forcing her brightest smile. “You deserved to have a celebration. The play was brilliant and the food and champagne lived up to that high standard. No Broadway after-party could have been nicer.”

  Bree waved off the compliments. “You and Aidan seemed to be getting closer,” she said casually. “There were reports of a romantic rendezvous on the terrace.”

  “Do the members of your family not have better things to do than spy on me?” Liz asked testily.

  “Not lately,” Bree said with no hint of apology in her voice. “Dad’s gotten his own kids married off, as well as Uncle Jeff’s and even his first granddaughter. He’s at loose ends for the moment, at least until Carrie’s love life shows signs of heating up. I don’t think he’s in a big rush for that to happen, not until he’s sure she’s not going to let that cheating, hotshot fashion designer back into her life.”

  Liz gave her a wry look. “Maybe I should encourage her to do just that and get the heat off me.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Bree said. “Marc Reynolds really hurt her. I don’t think any of us realized how much till Carrie came back here and started moping around at loose ends.”

  “Okay, I won’t use your niece as a diversionary tactic,” Liz agreed. “What else might work?”

  Bree’s eyes lit up. “You could tell me if the kiss was as hot as the reports made it sound.”

  Liz laughed despite her frustration. “That’s not a diversion, that’s capitulating to your prurient interest in my love life.”

  Bree gave an unapologetic shrug. “It would work, though.”

  “Too bad. Did you have a reason for stopping by, other than tormenting me, I mean?”

  “Not really. What are your plans for this evening? I imagine you’re ready to relax now that your family’s gone back to North Carolina.”

  “Relaxing is definitely at the top of the agenda,” Liz agreed.

  Bree studied her. “And what else? The idea of a nice shower and a good book would not put that blush in your cheeks.” Her eyes immediately sparkled with delight. “We’re back to Aidan, aren’t we? You have plans with him.”

  “Not talking,” Liz declared. “And do not get any ideas about parking outside my house to see if he shows up. Or hanging around here to see if I go upstairs. Or coming within a hundred feet of either one of us, for that matter.” She thought that ought to make her point clear.

  “You sound as if you think you might need a restraining order, for goodness’ sake.”

  “Do I?”

  “Sweetie, we love you. We want you to be deliriously happy.” Bree shrugged. “It makes us a little nosy, but we’re not stalkers.” A grin spread across her face. “Of course, there are a lot of us all over town. We tend to see things, even when we don’t go looking.”

  “And you’ve taken the skill of texting to new heights,” Liz said, knowing it was the method of choice for the O’Brien meddlers.

  “We have adapted to technology,” Bree agreed. “Even Dad, more’s the pity. Mom keeps threatening to take his cell phone away from him and toss it in the bay, but Uncle Thomas would have a conniption and Dad would only replace it.”

  She reached across the counter and gave Liz’s hand a squeeze. “Whatever you and Aidan are up to tonight, have fun.”

  Liz wasn’t sure how much fun the evening would be, but it would be a turning point, no question about that.

  * * *

  Thomas hoped like hell that tomorrow would bring the quick and final proof that Aidan was not his son, but he knew it was unlikely. From the moment he’d first seen the boy, there’d been something about him that felt familiar. Sure, now that he knew he was Anna’s son, that was part of it, but it was more. He’d felt that same stubbornness and grit that all the O’Briens shared.

  At first, of course, that possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind, but now it seemed so obvious.

  Ever since Aidan had told him of their supposed connection, Thomas had been wrestling with his conscience. Had he known on some level back then that Anna was carrying his baby? Was that why he hadn’t fought harder to keep her from leaving town? Surely he hadn’t been that self-absorbed or shallow, but the truth was, he had been single-focused back then and for a lot of years after that.

  His career had cost him two marriages. He couldn’t deny the truth of that. And the only reason he was so happy now with Connie was because she understood him in ways neither of his other wives had. She was patient with his absorption with work and tolerant with the time it took away from their family.

  Of course, he’d made more compromises with her than he had in either of his other relationships. He’d moved home to Chesapeake Shores. He worked from the house when he could. And he welcomed his wife’s involvement in the work that had been his life’s passion. In fact, it was that shared interest that had brought them together in the first place, despite quite a few obstacles and objections.

  Though he’d tried for the past few days, he couldn’t conceive of how the news that he had a son would disrupt his world. Despite what he’d told Mick about Connie accepting that he’d had a relationship with Aidan’s mother, he knew that an old flame wasn’t the same as having a grown son who would connect them forever.

  She liked Aidan, though. Whatever her reaction to the relationship, Thomas thought he could count on her dealing with it in the same calm, evenhanded way she’d dealt with most of the rough spots in her life. She felt as strongly about family as he did. Surely her heart was big enough to embrace Aidan as part of that group.

  He was pondering all this as he sat on the porch, an Irish whiskey in hand, when she came out and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

  “You okay?” she asked, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

  “Fine,” he said. “Where’s Sean?”

  “In bed, more than likely reading a book even though I told him to turn off the light and go to sleep,” she said, her voice threaded with laughter. “I’d fight him harder, but I like that he loves to read.” Her amusement faded quic
kly and she regarded him with concern. “You’ve been awfully quiet all evening.”

  “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Are you thinking about the shock of discovering that your old college flame was Aidan’s mother?”

  “It was a shock, that’s for sure,” he said.

  She came around and sat beside him, pulling her chair close enough to hold his hand. Her fingers caressed his knuckles, which had been roughened by so many hard days on the bay on the foundation’s research boat.

  “There’s more, isn’t there?” she asked softly.

  Thomas gave her a sharp look. “What makes you ask that?”

  “He’s an O’Brien,” she said flatly, keeping a close eye on his face as she awaited a reaction.

  “You know?” He supposed he wasn’t that surprised. Connie knew him better than anyone on this earth except maybe Nell.

  “Not until this minute,” she said. “Not for sure, anyway. You told me he looks like Anna, but I see you every time I look into his eyes. You and Mick and Jeff, you all have those smiling Irish eyes they talk about in the song. So does Aidan.”

  “I don’t know for sure,” he said, startled by the complacency he heard in her voice.

  She smiled at him. “Yes, you do. You don’t need a DNA test to tell you the truth.”

  “I’ll await the results, just the same,” he said stubbornly.

  “Of course you will, because science matters to you.”

  “It doesn’t lie.”

  She frowned at that. “And you think Aidan could be lying?”

  “Anything’s possible.”

  “You know better,” she chided. “If I can see the truth, I know you can, too. Why are you so afraid to admit it?”

  “It’s going to change things,” he said.

  “Such as?”

  “Us.”

  She shook her head. “Not a chance. I’ll love your son the same way you’ve loved my daughter.”

  “Ma’s going to lecture me from now till eternity.”

  Connie laughed at that. “More than likely, but she won’t stop loving you. And she will open her heart to Aidan. If you think otherwise, you’re not giving Nell enough credit. She’d be insulted by that.”