Susie sighed. “And I’m sorry for taking my lousy mood out on you.”
“Please. I’m family, and I know how badly you want children. I do, too, but I know it’s not the same.”
“Right. You could get pregnant anytime. I can’t.” Susie winced at her tone. “Sorry. Again. It’s ironic how all of the O’Briens seem to procreate at the drop of the hat, and then there’s me. Look at your sister. Caitlyn didn’t want to get married or have a baby, but here she is with a great husband and a darling little boy, and I’m not sure she appreciates either one.”
“Of course she does,” Carrie said, immediately jumping to the defense of her twin. “It was just a big adjustment. She had her whole life mapped out.”
“I guess what they say about best-laid plans is true,” Susie said. “They do tend to go awry. I thought if I could eventually convince Mack to look at me twice, we’d live happily ever after.”
“You and Mack are solid,” Carrie reminded her.
Susie’s eyes turned misty. “I know, and I thank God for that every single day. Mack stood by me—he even married me not knowing how long I might live. Most men would have bailed.”
“And you’ll get that baby, just maybe not on the timetable you’d hoped for,” Carrie said confidently.
Susie managed a faint smile. “From your lips to God’s ear,” she whispered.
Carrie squeezed her hand. “It’ll happen. O’Briens always make things happen.”
Susie drew in a deep breath, then squared her shoulders and faced the computer. “Let’s see about finding a spot for that day care. Who knows? Maybe I’ll come and work for you and get my fix of babies that way.”
“Suze,” Carrie said quietly, then waited for her cousin to face her. “There will always be a spot for you, even if you just want to spend your lunch hour hanging out, okay?”
“Thanks.”
But they both knew that caring for other people’s children, no matter how rewarding, would never quite fill the empty place in either of their hearts.
* * *
A few days later Carrie had just pulled a hot cookie sheet from the oven when her grandfather barged into her kitchen without bothering to knock.
“What’s this I hear about you opening a day-care center?” Mick asked, his voice booming through the small space.
“You’ve been talking to Susie,” she concluded.
“Actually I was talking to my brother. Jeff told me Susie has been showing you properties and that you’ve already applied for a license. What sort of nonsense is going on in that head of yours? Why didn’t you discuss this cockamamy plan with me before you dived in?”
Carrie dropped the cookie sheet onto the table with a clatter she hoped would be a hint of just how annoyed she was. Naturally her grandfather was oblivious. She’d expected this reaction from him, but that didn’t keep it from hurting.
“You’re an O’Brien,” he declared. “You’re meant to be doing great things, not babysitting other people’s children.”
“Even if some of those children are O’Briens?”
He scowled at her. “There are plenty of people in this family to look out for our own. Not a one of them needs to be in some impersonal day care.”
“So now I’m providing impersonal care?” she challenged.
“You know what I mean,” he said.
“Actually I do. You mean that I’m letting you down yet again. You didn’t approve of it when I was in Europe working in fashion. Then you were disappointed in me for quitting that job and coming back here. You were thoroughly frustrated when I didn’t jump on the bandwagon and take up Caitlyn’s favorite cause in Africa. Sorry, Grandpa Mick, I guess I’m just destined to be a huge failure in your eyes.”
As her heated words and the tears stinging her eyes registered with him, he looked stunned. “I never said any such thing.”
“Didn’t you? Worse, you just referred to something I’m truly excited about as a cockamamy idea.”
“Carrie, sweetheart, all I want is for you to be happy.”
“And I think this will make me happy,” she told him, swiping angrily at her tears. “I really do. I love kids. Right now I don’t see any children of my own in my immediate future, so this works for me. I’m good with kids. Ask anyone.”
“Well, of course you are. I’ve seen you at the house reading stories and playing games with all your little cousins. You’ve a gift, no question about it,” he said, clearly backpedaling as fast as he could.
His expression turned thoughtful. “Seems to me, though, what you really need is a man and a houseful of kids of your own.”
Carrie gave him a horrified look. “Do not get any ideas about matchmaking, Grandpa Mick. I mean it. Right now I need to focus on this new business. I want to do it right. When it’s up and running and such a huge success that even you will be impressed, then I’ll think about my social life. And when that day comes, I want you to remember that I’m perfectly capable of finding the right man without any help from you.”
Her grandfather didn’t appear impressed by her declaration. “Are you, now? Is there one lurking about I’ve not seen? That Sam Winslow fellow, perhaps?”
“Leave Sam out of this. There are lots of men lurking about, as you put it,” she said, silently begging forgiveness for the blatant lie. “Everywhere I turn, in fact.”
“Then you’ll be bringing one to Sunday dinner, I imagine,” he said.
Check and checkmate, she thought with a resigned sigh. “Sure,” she said, wondering who she might draft for the assignment. It needed to be somebody tough enough to withstand Mick’s scrutiny and willing to play the game for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon.
Because his name had just come up and because an image of Sam popped into her head all too regularly, she considered him as a possibility. Bad idea, she told herself. Then again, at least he would come away with a decent meal and some new friends for his little boy.
She wouldn’t go looking for him, but if they crossed paths between now and Sunday, what was the harm in asking?
She glanced up to find her grandfather munching on a warm chocolate-chip cookie and regarding her suspiciously.
“You aren’t thinking of trying to put one over on me, are you?” he asked.
She mustered her most innocent expression. Given the number of times she’d been called upon to use it with this very man, she had it down pat. “Absolutely not,” she told him.
He gave a little nod of satisfaction. “Then I’ll see you on Sunday.”
He picked up another couple of cookies and left through the kitchen door. Carrie sighed heavily. That gave her exactly three days to find the man of her dreams...or at least someone willing to play the role.
14
On Saturday Sam stood just inside the front door of the little house on Willow Brook Road as Bobby raced through the rooms, the sound of his footsteps on the shiny hardwood floors echoing in the empty space.
He’d just bought himself a house, he thought, amazement and panic washing over him. Here he was, a man who’d never planned to put down roots, and he was suddenly the owner of a house with a mortgage and the parent of a grief-stricken little boy. Somewhere God must be having a really good laugh at his expense, because the carefree life he’d envisioned for himself had definitely gone up in smoke.
He was a little astonished at how quickly and smoothly the purchase had happened. When he’d finally called after his dinner with Carrie, Susie had leaped into action. She’d clearly been highly motivated and apparently in Chesapeake Shores when O’Briens were in your corner, credit reports and paperwork could be handled with lightning speed.
Susie hadn’t wasted time dragging him all over town. She’d brought him straight to this house and let the cozy little cottage speak for itself. Sam might have hesitated for days, weighed the merits of buying a house at all, rather than renting, but Bobby’s initial enthusiasm had been contagious. Listening to his exuberant shouts echo through the empty rooms and watching his eyes widen with
delight when he spotted both a swing and a tree house in the backyard had clinched the deal for Sam. Everything after that had been all about the paperwork.
“Not to worry,” Susie had assured him. “I’ve already spoken to the seller and you can move in as soon as you want to. Mack spoke to the bank and reassured them your job is solid. All you need to do is sign an endless number of papers, pack up, get some furniture in here and you’re all set. My cousin Connor will handle all the legalities.”
Sam had been astonished. “Just like that? Do things always go this smoothly? I’ve heard horror stories about buying a house.”
She’d simply shrugged. “In this town, connections help.”
They certainly did, Sam concluded. He’d even been able to arrange for the beds he’d bought just yesterday—a king for him, the bunk beds Bobby had insisted on—to be delivered first thing this morning. Susie or someone she’d designated had made a call and the store had been more than happy to cooperate. He’d had to call Carrie and Nell to cancel this week’s cooking lesson, but this delivery had taken precedence. The truck had been waiting in the driveway by eight o’clock and the hastily purchased furniture was already in place.
Susie had made a few more calls and O’Briens had offered additional furniture from attics and extra sets of dishes they swore weren’t being used, but that would happen during this next week. In the meantime, he and Bobby could put their clothes in the freshly painted closets and sleep in their own beds. Bobby was elated by the new Spider-Man sheets on his lower bunk and the matching night-light that had already been plugged in.
The only thing missing, Sam concluded with a sigh, was a refrigerator stocked with cold beer. He could really use one about now as he faced his new reality.
“Knock, knock.”
The hesitant, musical voice cut into his thoughts. Or maybe it was the aroma of freshly baked cookies that caught his attention first. He turned, and there was Carrie, her cheeks naturally rosy from baking, her auburn hair curling about her face. She was wearing shorts and a Chesapeake Shores T-shirt and looked a little too approachable. He could suddenly envision coming home to her every night and finding her in his kitchen looking just like this, the aroma of one of Nell’s specialties they were mastering wafting from the kitchen.
“Hi,” he said, then gestured around the empty space. “I’d invite you in, but, as you can see, chairs are in short supply.”
“That’s okay. I’m just dropping off cookies to welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m a little stunned by how quickly you pulled this off.”
“Me, too,” he admitted. “I hadn’t even thought about this move making us neighbors. You okay with that?”
Carrie frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We sort of agreed to keep our distance, right? For Bobby’s sake?”
“We’ll just have to work a little harder to make sure he doesn’t get the wrong idea,” she said.
Sam wondered what she’d think of the ideas he was getting right now. Was it possible that chocolate-chip cookies were an aphrodisiac? She looked far more tempting than that plate of cookies.
He suddenly realized she was studying him with a puzzled look.
“If you’re really worried, you should know that I don’t intend to make a habit of this. I just wanted to welcome you. It’s a great neighborhood. I didn’t even realize this house was on the market or I’d have mentioned it to you myself. The location couldn’t be more convenient to town and the house is absolutely charming.”
Sam didn’t know what qualified a house as charming, but this one did feel exactly right somehow. It even had a working fireplace in the living room, built-in bookshelves and one of those white picket fences he’d always thought to be the worst sort of cliché for the kind of quaint, suburban life he didn’t intend to live. How often had he expressed his disdain for such a life to his sister. She must be having a good laugh at the way she’d turned his life upside down.
He realized Carrie was again studying him intently. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I guess I’m a little distracted.”
“I know you’re just settling in and must have a million things to do, so I won’t bother you, but if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know, okay?” She glanced around at the empty room again. “How are you going to manage without furniture?”
He smiled. “We have beds. That’ll do for a couple of nights.”
“What about dishes? Pots and pan?”
“All in due time,” he said. “I gather from Susie that she’s been raiding various O’Brien attics and will be bringing in castoffs on Monday. After that, I’ll be shopping for whatever else we need.”
“Well, then, I guess I’ll take off,” she said and started down the steps. As she reached the sidewalk, she turned back. “I don’t suppose the two of you would like to go to my grandfather’s for dinner tomorrow, would you? It’ll be the usual Sunday madhouse, but Nell’s cooking, so I can promise you a delicious meal, and it’ll give Bobby a chance to make some more friends.”
Sam hesitated. Given what she’d told him about her grandfather’s matchmaking tendencies and what he’d seen for himself when Mick had come by the newspaper office, maybe this wasn’t such a hot idea. Carrie was skittish enough and neither of them needed extra pressure these days. He was overwhelmed by all the sudden changes in his lifestyle and she was sorting through a million details to decide whether to open that day care. All very valid considerations, he concluded.
In the end, though, he had to think about Bobby. It would be a whole lot easier for him to adjust to Chesapeake Shores if he was surrounded by even more kids his age. Sam wanted him to feel as if he belonged here, rather than constantly hearing that he wanted to go back home to see his real friends.
“Are you sure it’ll be okay if you bring a couple of last-minute guests?”
She laughed at that. “You’ll see. In the mob scene at Grandpa Mick’s, they’ll barely notice two more. And you already know Susie and Mack, plus me and Luke, so you won’t feel that out of place. And you’ve met my grandfather and survived, so it should be all good. Nell will, no doubt, seize the chance to give us both another cooking lesson. She’s complained about us missing the past couple of Saturdays.”
Sam nodded. “Okay, then. Thanks for the invitation.”
“Would you like to ride over with me?” she asked. “There’s no reason to take two cars, since we’re neighbors.”
“Why don’t I drive?” he suggested instead. “My car has Bobby’s booster seat.”
“Sure. I’ll walk over here just before five.” She gave him a wave and took off.
Sam stood in the doorway and watched her go, enjoying the sway of her hips in those shorts probably a little more than he should. Bobby slipped up beside him and tucked a hand in his.
“Was that Carrie?” he asked.
“It was.”
“Why was she here and why didn’t I get to see her?”
“She came to invite us to Sunday dinner with her family tomorrow.” He ruffled Bobby’s hair and waved the plate of cookies under his nose. “And she brought a housewarming present.”
“Cookies!” Bobby guessed at once. “Can I have some?”
“Just one,” Sam said. “Then we need to go to the grocery store to buy milk and some other supplies.”
“Peanut butter and jelly for school lunches?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“And cheese and bread to make grilled cheese sandwiches for here?”
“Sure.”
“And pancakes?”
When Sam hesitated, Bobby said, “They make frozen ones. Do we have a toaster?”
“Not yet, but we will,” Sam said, moving that to the top of his mental list of necessities. “If we drive to the big Walmart on the main highway, we can get food and a toaster.”
“All right!” Bobby enthused, shoving the last of his cookie into his mouth. “Let’s go.”
Sam couldn’t help chuckling. Apparently when properl
y motivated, Bobby forgot all about how much he missed home and was ready to embrace Chesapeake Shores. All it took was the promise of a few familiar treats...and warm cookies from a neighbor who was sneaking past Sam’s defenses, too.
* * *
On Sunday, Carrie introduced Sam and Bobby to her relatives, taking great care to stress that he was a neighbor and new to town, then adding his connection to Susie and Mack. At least that’s what she did until they reached her grandfather.
“Grandpa Mick, you already know Sam Winslow,” she said. “I understand you met him at the newspaper office.”
If there was a tiny flicker of guilt in her grandfather’s eyes, it was hastily replaced by a satisfied gleam. She hoped Sam was oblivious to it.
“And who would this be?” Mick asked, reaching out a hand to Bobby.
“This is my nephew, Bobby,” Sam said. “I believe I mentioned to you that he’s just come to live with me. Bobby, shake Mr. O’Brien’s hand.”
Bobby hesitantly reached out for Mick’s hand, then looked surprised when he came away with a wrapped piece of penny candy. Carrie chuckled.
“Bobby, you’re going to find that my grandfather has a never-ending supply of candy from Ethel’s Emporium.”
Bobby grinned shyly. “Cool.” He looked up at Sam. “Can I have it now?”
“I don’t think one piece will spoil your appetite,” Sam said, then gave him a look of mock severity. “But just one, understood?”
“You may be telling that to the wrong person,” Carrie told him, nodding toward her grandfather.
“Oh, stop your fussing,” Mick grumbled. “You enjoyed your share of treats from me when you were his age. Now why don’t you introduce Bobby to some of the other kids, while Sam and I have a chat.”
Carrie regarded her grandfather with alarm, but knew better than to argue. “Come on, Bobby. I think there’s a whole slew of kids playing in the yard. Shall we look for them?”
Bobby looked hesitant, but Sam gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be right here,” he promised.
Carrie held out her hand and Bobby immediately took it, then followed her outside where a half a dozen O’Brien grandchildren were racing across the lawn in an improvised game of hide-and-seek. The instant they spotted Carrie, they stopped and ran over.
Willow Brook Road Page 19
