Willow Brook Road

by Sherryl Woods

  “Of course.”

  Sam didn’t consider himself to be all that intuitive when it came to women, but this situation was plain as day even to him. “Somebody did a real number on you, didn’t they?”

  She immediately looked so flustered, Sam knew he’d gotten it exactly right. “What happened, Carrie?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I think it does. It’s not that I don’t believe you’re concerned for Bobby. I know you are. But you’ve been taken advantage of by someone and this situation is bringing up bad memories.”

  “Maybe,” she finally admitted. “In a way. But the situations are nothing alike, honestly. And believe me, you are nothing like Marc Reynolds.”

  Sam regarded her with shock. He didn’t know a lot about fashion, but he knew that name. The man had a rich tabloid history with several of his top models. “He was your last relationship?”

  She shrugged. “If you could call it that. Look, it’s messy and it’s not one of my finer moments. Can we leave it at that?”

  Discussing it obviously brought back painful memories. Sam quickly realized this might not be the time to probe for details. “Sure,” he said. “I’m sorry, Carrie. I may not know what happened, but I’d be willing to lay odds you didn’t deserve it.”

  She smiled at his vehemence. “Thanks for that. I’d better go.”

  “You’re here now,” he protested. “Bobby’s asleep. I hate eating alone. Stick around for one glass of wine and keep me company. Can you do that?”

  For a moment she looked torn, but then her gaze was drawn to the pizza box. “What kind?”

  “Veggie,” he said.

  A smile broke across her face. “You win!” she said, throwing open the box and taking a slice, then curling into a corner of the sofa.

  Sam grinned. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

  “What can I say? I made Bobby eat a healthy dinner downstairs, but it was pretty darn boring. This, however, is the food of the gods. Pizza like this may or may not be truly Italian, but I’m giving them credit for making the food world a better place.”

  Sam laughed, sat beside her and poured the wine, then took his own slice. “Amen to that! Ask any unattached male over eighteen who lives on his own and it’s probably pizza that keeps us alive.”

  Carrie held out her wineglass and tapped it to his. Sam met her gaze and held it. A wicked current of electricity sparked between them. No matter what she’d said earlier, no matter how wise her decision, this thing between them wasn’t over. It was just temporarily on hold.

  11

  Carrie was shaken by how intense things had gotten with Sam the night before. That one long, sizzling look even after she’d declared what a bad idea it was for them to spend time together had told her that she was crazy if she thought a bunch of words and good intentions were going to keep them apart. She had to try, though. For Bobby’s sake and, as Sam had guessed, her own. She’d made one truly terrible judgment about a man and it had torn her emotional life apart. She wasn’t quite ready to trust herself again.

  And it wasn’t as if Sam hadn’t given her cause for concern. Look how badly he’d bungled things with Bobby when they’d first met. Sure, there were extenuating circumstances and he seemed to have learned from those mistakes, but one of the things she wanted most desperately was a man who’d be a great dad.

  Hers sure hadn’t fit the bill. Wes Winters had been controlling and had demonstrated the morals of an alley cat when he’d gotten involved with one of her mom’s coworkers. Since the divorce and their move to Chesapeake Shores, he’d been mostly an absentee father, rarely putting in an appearance even on big occasions such as Cait’s wedding. He’d sent an extravagant gift and a lame excuse for his absence.

  Her stepfather, though, was something else. Trace had been a loving, warm, thoughtful presence in her life and Cait’s from the minute he’d started trying to win back her mom. He’d been tough, but fair, a lot like Grandpa Mick, but without the meddling gene.

  On Wednesday morning with all those thoughts still tumbling around in her head, Carrie was at Sally’s for coffee in time to catch up with Shanna, Bree and Heather. She’d arranged to do the day-care center again on Thursday, but had kept today and Friday open to babysit Jackson as usual. Even though the offer to bring him along had been made by Julie, Carrie thought the early hour would be too hard on the baby and on Noah, who had precious little time with his son as it was. Their early-morning ritual, even when it included gobs of smeared cereal, mattered.

  “Where have you been the past couple of mornings?” Bree asked.

  “I was busy,” Carrie said evasively.

  “Not just sleeping in after late nights with you-know-who?” Shanna taunted.

  Bree’s eyes lit up. “If that were the case, then this morning wouldn’t have been an exception,” she said, clearly delighted that Shanna had broken the ice and opened up this particular topic. “I have it on good authority, she was at the inn till all hours last night.”

  Carrie barely contained a groan. “Not that I’m surprised, since Aunt Jess has never been one to keep a tidbit of gossip to herself, but did she also happen to mention I was there babysitting Bobby while Sam was on deadline at the paper?”

  “Till after midnight?” her aunt Bree retorted with undisguised skepticism. “Jake was picking up a pizza for a late snack after he finished a big landscaping job and he happened to run into Sam at the pizza place. So, I know Sam got back to the inn before ten. Your car was in the lot till much, much later.” This final revelation was made with a certain degree of triumph in her voice.

  Carrie sighed. “I really need to reevaluate whether I can stand to live in Chesapeake Shores.”

  Though the comment had come out impulsively, she couldn’t have chosen her threat more carefully. All three women immediately looked alarmed.

  “We’ll cut it out—I promise,” Shanna said at once.

  “Absolutely,” Bree chimed in. “I don’t want my sister on my case for chasing off her daughter. Abby’s upset enough that Caitlyn’s still living in Baltimore, even though Noah and their baby are here.”

  “Then let that be a lesson to you,” Carrie scolded, to take advantage of their momentary chagrin. “My roots here are not firmly planted in the ground quite yet.”

  “You bought a house,” Heather said tentatively. “You want to stay. You know you do.”

  “A house doesn’t make a life,” Carrie reminded them. “All O’Briens eventually want to have a home here to come back to, even for short visits. It was a smart investment.”

  “And an indication of how you’re leaning. All the other pieces will fall into place,” Bree said with certainty. “I didn’t know I wanted to stay when I first moved back from Chicago after that disastrous experience I had at the regional theater. But then I opened Flowers on Main, Jake and I got back together and I opened the theater. This is what my life was meant to be.”

  “It worked a lot like that for all of us. Living in Chesapeake Shores was the first step into our futures,” Shanna said, then added with confidence, “That’s what it is for you, too, Carrie.”

  “And now we’re officially dropping the subject,” Bree said.

  The other two nodded, though Heather gave Carrie a hopeful look. “Unless there’s something you wanted to tell us about you and Sam.”

  “Incorrigible!” Carrie decreed, laughing. “All of you.”

  “Only because we love you and want you to be happy,” Shanna insisted. “We’re not just nosy, honestly.”

  “And now you sound like Grandpa Mick,” Carrie said with an exaggerated shudder.

  The three women exchanged looks, then shuddered themselves.

  “That’s it. Message received,” Bree declared. “Let’s move on to Susie. Have any of you seen her?”

  “Not since the adoption fiasco,” Heather said. “I know she’s working again, but she’s obviously avoiding us.”

  “I’ve called,” Shanna said. �
��I even poked my head in the office on Monday, but she picked up the phone and waved me off.”

  “Not unusual,” Bree said. “She’s pretty focused when it comes to work.”

  “Ah, but that’s the thing,” Shanna said. “The phone hadn’t rung.”

  “Oh, dear,” Carrie said. “She’s shutting everyone out. That can’t be good.”

  “I have one thought,” Shanna said. “We’re due for a book-club meeting and it’s her turn to host it. I can remind her of that and see how she feels about it. Maybe if I approach her and the conversation’s not about her and how she’s feeling, she’ll relax and let us back in.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” Bree said. “Somebody needs to do something. Gram was beside herself when Susie and Mack skipped Sunday dinner again this week. I don’t like seeing her upset.”

  “Me, either,” Shanna said. “Though I’ve never known Nell to sit on the sidelines for long. She’ll be on Susie’s doorstep any day now, if she hasn’t been already.”

  “No doubt about it,” Carrie said. “I’ll try to get Gram to hold off another week, if you’ll see if you can get this book-club meeting organized.”

  “Done,” the others agreed, practically in unison.

  “Okay, then, if we’re all in agreement, I’d better head to the flower shop,” Bree said. “Jake’s bringing my order in early.” She grinned wickedly. “If I’m lucky, we can make out in the back room for a couple of minutes.”

  Heather laughed. “We may be the luckiest women in the world.”

  “How so?” Carrie asked, curious because it did seem to her that they were. She couldn’t help wondering what their secret was.

  “We’re all married to men we still think are hot,” Heather replied. “Better yet, they can’t keep their hands off us, either.”

  Carrie slapped her hands over her ears. “Too much information!” she protested even though she was the one who’d asked for the insight.

  “Not so,” Bree said. “We’re setting a good example for you. When you find the guy who makes you feel like that you’ll know he’s the right one.”

  An image of Sam and that sizzling moment they’d shared the night before immediately came to mind. She could say it was a bad idea from now till doomsday, but she was having more and more trouble believing it.

  * * *

  Mack stopped by the real estate management office to try to lure Susie to lunch and found her with Shanna.

  “Come on, Susie. Tomorrow’s book-club night and it’s your turn. Please don’t back out. We’ve been missing you like crazy at Sally’s in the morning. We want to catch up.”

  Susie opened her mouth, about to decline again if Mack knew anything at all about his wife, but Shanna kept right on talking over her. “You won’t have to do a thing,” she promised. “We’ll bring the food, the drinks, all of it. We’ll even clean up.”

  “Sounds like a great deal,” Mack said, watching his wife closely.

  Susie barely spared him a glance before shaking her head. “I’m not ready for a girls’ night. And I haven’t even read the book.”

  Shanna grinned. “When has that ever mattered to anyone except me? Half the time I’m the only one who’s read it. You know this is just an excuse for all the O’Brien women to get together.”

  Mack kept silent, praying that Susie would break down and say yes. She needed her friends, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  “Okay,” she said at last. “But not one word about what happened to Mack and me, okay? I can’t talk about not getting the baby.”

  “Promise,” Shanna said. “I’d better get back to the store. I’m training a new salesclerk and she panics if we have more than one customer at a time. See you tomorrow at seven. Don’t lift a finger. We’ll do everything.”

  Susie nodded, though she still didn’t look especially happy about agreeing to it.

  When Shanna had gone, Mack took her place beside his wife’s desk. “That should be fun. You need to spend some time with the girls.”

  She gave him a wry look. “So you’re free to play hoops with the guys? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how closely you’ve been sticking to home.”

  “It’s not as if spending time with my wife is a huge sacrifice,” he responded. “In fact, I came by now to see if you have time for lunch.”

  “At Sally’s?” she asked, a frown in place.

  “Unless you’d prefer someplace else.”

  “Anyplace else,” she said fervently.

  “Panini Bistro, the pizza place, Brady’s? Your choice.”

  “Home,” she said at once. “I can make salads there.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go out?”

  “Very sure.”

  “Because you don’t want to run into anyone who might ask about the adoption?” he guessed.

  She nodded. “I’d told everybody it was happening, Mack. I was so excited. Now I just don’t know what to say. It hurts seeing the pity in their eyes.”

  He reached for her hand. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

  “It’ll get better eventually,” she said with more hope than confidence in her voice. “People will hear what happened, if they haven’t already, and will avoid the topic.”

  “They will, you know. If they don’t drop it, if they do ask, it’s only because everyone in this town adores you.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Before I forget, Sam told me last night that he’ll be in touch about looking at houses as soon as school starts and he has more time. He’s been spending most of his spare time with Bobby.”

  Her expression brightened marginally. “They’re doing okay?”

  “It sounds like it. I know Carrie’s been helping out,” he said, then could have kicked himself when dismay once again washed over Susie’s face. “Let’s go have lunch. I think it’s cool enough to sit on the porch.”

  She nodded, but it was clear some of the life had gone out of her again. When she stood up, Mack drew her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “I love you more than anything,” he told her. “And I hate that you’re hurting.”

  “I’m trying to get past what happened, Mack. I really am.”

  Mack believed her, but they both knew that pain that deep simply didn’t vanish overnight.

  * * *

  With the morning off after working late the night before, Sam bought Bobby a fishing pole at Ethel’s Emporium, then took him to the town pier to see what they could catch. Bobby eyed the worms with distaste.

  “They’re yucky!” he declared.

  Sam laughed. “I’ll grant you that, but the fish love them.”

  He glanced up with relief when he heard Henry, Davey and Johnny approaching. Shanna had called that morning and offered to send them along to help with a fishing lesson.

  “Every boy in this town needs to learn to fish,” she’d declared. “It’s a rite of passage. I taught Henry myself. Of course, Kevin came along and improved on my lessons. He didn’t think a woman, especially one who moved here from a big city, could possibly know anything about doing it right.”

  “How’d you feel about that?” Sam asked, curious.

  “Oh, he was right, no question about it,” Shanna admitted. “But the important thing was Henry gave it a try and came to love it.”

  Henry took over with the younger boys and Sam settled onto a bench to enjoy the morning. Not only did Henry know what he was doing, it seemed he had endless patience with the kids. Davey, of course, needed no coaching. He caught his first fish before the others even had the bait on their lines.

  “Now we throw him back,” Davey said.

  “But why?” Bobby asked, clearly fascinated with the fish in Davey’s hand.

  “Because he’s too little to eat,” Davey told him solemnly. “He should have a chance to grow up.”

  While catch and release was obviously a lesson ingrained by Kevin, it didn’t seem to resonate well with Bobby. Tears filled his eyes and he came running for S
am.

  “What’s wrong?” Sam asked, at a loss to understand the obviously heartfelt emotion.

  “What if he can’t find his mommy and daddy again?” he whispered to Sam.

  “I’ll bet they’re close by waiting for him,” Sam said.

  “That’s what moms and dads do,” Davey said in his own attempt to be reassuring.

  That only made Bobby cry harder. “Not mine,” he said between sobs.

  All Sam could do was hold him close while the tears flowed.

  “I’m sorry,” Davey said, looking shaken. “I forgot about his mom and dad.”

  “It’s okay,” Sam assured him. “Sometimes it just hits him. Maybe we should all go for some ice cream and forget about fishing this morning.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Henry said at once, taking his cue from Sam. “These guys are always up for ice cream, right, Davey?”

  “Right,” Davey said at once.

  “Bobby? Johnny? Does that sound okay to you?” Sam prodded.

  Johnny kept his solemn gaze trained on Bobby, as if he understood that Bobby was the key to whether ice cream was an option.

  “I guess,” Bobby said with a loud sniff. “Can I have chocolate?”

  “You can have any flavor you want,” Sam said, relieved.

  “Maybe Carrie could come?” Bobby suggested.

  Sam thought of her declaration that they do nothing that would feed into Bobby’s growing attachment to her. “I think she’s out of town today, pal. Remember?”

  Bobby looked puzzled, but then his expression brightened. “Oh, yeah, the day-care place.”

  Even as the innocent words left Bobby’s mouth, Sam winced.

  “Day-care place?” Henry echoed, looking confused. “What’s that?”

  Even Bobby realized his mistake. He stared sheepishly at Sam. “Uh-oh,” he whispered. “Is she gonna be mad at me?”

  “No way,” Sam soothed, though he knew no such thing. For now, though, he had to do damage control. He offered a bright smile for Henry. “Just a project she’s been working on. She doesn’t want anyone to know about it yet.”