Willow Brook Road

by Sherryl Woods

  Connor nodded approvingly. “Smart thinking.”

  Carrie couldn’t seem to stop a smile from spreading across her face. “Connor, this is really going to happen, isn’t it?”

  “Looks that way.” His expression suddenly turned worried. “You aren’t going to panic and change your mind, are you?”

  This was about the tenth member of the family to ask her the same question this week alone. She was out of patience with it. “How flighty do you all think I am? How many times were you asked if you were sure about going to law school? I doubt anybody questioned my mom about going to work on Wall Street.”

  Connor gave her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? Even after I’d graduated from law school and gone to work in Baltimore, the family was all over me for choosing divorce law. Nobody was very happy with me until I’d moved my practice down here. And your mom chose to work in New York initially. That caused its own sort of ruckus. Let’s not forget Kevin deciding to go to work for Uncle Thomas, which set my dad’s teeth on edge. Or Bree going off to Chicago to be a playwright, which is not exactly a stable profession. This family is incredibly supportive, but they don’t hesitate to nudge and maneuver and speak their minds until we’re living according to some grand plan Dad has in mind for us.”

  Carrie winced. “I see your point. This just seems really personal.”

  He laughed. “Well, of course it does. It’s focused on you. Just remember that in your case, they’re not just asking because they think you made the wrong choice. They’re asking to give you an opening to change your mind. O’Briens may push and prod to get any of us to go in a particular direction, but the bottom line is all they really care about is whether we’re happy. It took me a while to grasp that myself, especially since living in Chesapeake Shores once Mom came back was not part of my life plan.”

  She studied him. “No regrets now, though, right?”

  “Not a one. And all of my issues with Mom leaving years ago are in the past. I may never totally understand her choices, but I’ve stopped reacting like an immature kid. She’s actually a pretty great person and she’s really pulled through for Heather and me more than once.”

  Carrie knew how hard her grandmother had worked to make amends for leaving Grandpa Mick and moving to New York, leaving her children to be raised by him and Nell. Everyone in the family had finally made peace with that difficult time.

  “I’m glad you’ve moved on,” she told her uncle.

  He shrugged. “It was past time. How about you? Any regrets about not going back to Europe or New York?”

  She shook her head without a moment’s hesitation. “I know this is right. I know it’s going to make me happy,” Carrie said with certainty. She was convinced enough to go right on ignoring all of Marc’s texts and voice mails.

  “Then give the family six months, show them how deliriously content you are, and they’ll all be claiming it was their idea,” Connor said.

  Carrie laughed. He was right. Taking credit, even for decisions they’d discouraged that turned out okay, was definitely the O’Brien way.

  18

  Though he’d had no experience dealing with them, Sam had heard plenty about the terrible twos when Bobby had been that age. Laurel had called from time to time in tears, because her stubborn son seemed to know only one word, no, said emphatically in response to anything she asked of him.

  Tonight it seemed Bobby had reverted to those days or something very close to it. When Sam asked him to pick up his new toys that had been left scattered all over the living room floor, Bobby scowled at him, turned his back and ran from the room. Since it was the first time he’d been openly defiant in quite this way, Sam was shocked.

  “Young man, come back here,” he commanded in what he thought sounded like a sufficiently parental tone.

  Bobby kept right on running, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. When he evidently reached his room, he slammed that door behind him.

  Sam stared after him in dismay. Working to keep a rein on his own temper, he took a deep breath, walked down the hall and opened the door. He knew he needed to get an explanation before tackling the boy’s intolerable behavior. This was the first time he’d felt the need to establish some basic ground rules. It was a reminder that Bobby, for all of his good traits, was still a little boy in need of the kind of guidance Sam wasn’t sure he was qualified to give.

  Bobby was sitting on the floor with his new Transformers, listlessly moving them around. He didn’t give Sam so much as a glance. Sam wanted to scream at the kid and remind him who was the boss around here, but something in the dejected set of Bobby’s shoulders kept him from doing that. Instead, he sat on the floor next to him.

  After several minutes of continued silence, which gave both of them time to calm down and think, he asked, “Okay, pal, talk to me. What’s up?”

  Bobby continued to pretend Sam wasn’t even there. When Sam touched his shoulder, Bobby jerked away. Even though Sam reminded himself that the kid was in some sort of turmoil, he was surprised by just how much the rejection hurt.

  “How was school today?” Sam asked, searching for some logical explanation for Bobby’s mood. A bad day at school was the first thing that came to mind. He could recall a few of those in his own past.

  He drew a shrug in response, which was better than being ignored, but not exactly illuminating.

  “Did you have a test?” Sam persisted. Failing a spelling test or getting a math problem wrong in front of the class might seem devastating to a kid Bobby’s age. Or did they even have those sort of tests in first grade? It had been a very long time since Sam had started school.

  Sam got nothing in response.

  “At least recess must have been fun. Or did you fall down? Skin your knee?”

  Again, nothing. Sam bit back a sigh.

  “Did your teacher read to you today? I know you like that.”

  Bobby’s scowl deepened and tears leaked out and trickled down his cheeks. “It’s not about school, okay?” he blurted finally. “Leave me alone.”

  Sam inched closer, but didn’t reach out. “Sorry, buddy. I can’t do that. I know you’re upset about something. Remember what we decided when you first came to town?”

  Bobby sniffed, but kept his gaze downcast. “What?”

  “That we’re a team,” Sam reminded him. “That means I’m your backup, so if something or somebody makes you feel bad, I’m here to help.”

  “You can’t fix this,” Bobby said wearily, clearly resigned to suffering alone.

  His attitude made Sam want to cry. No six-year-old should be feeling this defeated. “Fix what? Maybe I can’t, but you have to tell me so I can at least try.”

  Bobby gave him a what’s-the-point look, but when Sam continued to wait for a reply, he finally said, “Grandma called.”

  “That’s nice,” Sam said carefully. Usually calls from his grandparents perked up Bobby’s spirits, but clearly there had been something different about this one. “What did she have to say?”

  The forlorn expression that washed over Bobby’s face once more made Sam want to cry.

  “She said it was Daddy’s birthday and asked me what I was doing to celebrate.” He turned to Sam, tears streaming now. “But I wasn’t doing anything, because I forgot.”

  This time when Sam reached out to gather Bobby close, the boy practically threw himself into Sam’s arms, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Sam felt like joining in, letting go of the emotions that he’d kept mostly buried ever since the accident. Instead, he focused on Bobby, who was clinging to him as if he was afraid to let go.

  “It’s okay,” he soothed, even though he knew nothing would ever be totally okay again.

  Sam wished Robert’s mother were here so he could give her a piece of his mind, but rationally he knew she’d only reached out to her grandson as a way to feel connected to her son on a day she could no longer celebrate with Robert. She hadn’t meant to make Bobby feel bad for forgetting. Heck, even she pr
obably knew that Bobby could barely remember where he’d kicked off his shoes the night before, much less important dates.

  “I didn’t mean to forget,” Bobby whispered brokenly. “It doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten my dad.”

  “I know, pal. And, believe me, your grandmother’s not mad at you. She’s probably just feeling a little sad today. You know, the way you feel sometimes when you think about your dad or your mom and realize you can’t see them.”

  His cheeks still damp, Bobby gave Sam a hopeful look. “Could we do something for Dad’s birthday? It’s not too late, is it?”

  “It is definitely not too late,” Sam said, making a spontaneous decision to make this right. This, thank goodness, was the sort of problem he could handle. “Carrie’s coming over in a little while. She’s bringing peaches and ice cream for dessert. Why don’t I ask if she can pick up some cupcakes and some birthday candles?”

  The spark returned to Bobby’s eyes. “Sometimes people have balloons and let them float into the air, so people can see them from heaven. Could we do that, too?”

  “I’ll check to see if anyplace is still open that sells balloons with helium in them,” Sam promised. “How does that sound? And we’ll take pictures with the cell phone and send them to your grandmother. I think it will make her smile to see how we’ve celebrated your dad’s birthday.”

  “All right!” Bobby enthused with the fist pump Sam had concluded always accompanied his solid approval for any plan.

  “Now, while I call Carrie and get the ball rolling for this birthday celebration, why don’t you pick up those toys so she doesn’t trip on them and fall on her face when she walks in the door?”

  “Okay,” Bobby said agreeably and raced off.

  Sam stayed where he was and drew in a deep breath. He’d averted one crisis, but how many hundreds more would there be like it? Was he really up to providing the support that Bobby needed?

  “No choice,” he reminded himself firmly. “We’re a team.”

  That was the promise he’d made and he had every intention of doing whatever was required to keep it. As crazy as it seemed, it appeared he and his nephew would be growing up together.

  * * *

  When Sam told Carrie what had happened, she added a few extra things to her shopping list. Fortunately Ethel’s Emporium was always well stocked with birthday supplies. She found balloons, a banner that spelled out Happy Birthday in colorful letters along with birthday paper plates, matching bowls for ice cream and napkins. She even found a silly pair of sunglasses for Bobby that had birthday candles and wishes on the frame.

  “Did I miss a birthday?” Ethel asked. “I usually know when one’s coming up because half your family is in here buying up most of my stock.”

  “Long story,” Carrie said. “But it’s not for an O’Brien this time.”

  “I imagine there are going to be quite a few birthday parties in your future,” Ethel said, backing off from her natural tendency to ask too many questions. “Seems to me a day care will probably be having parties on a regular basis.”

  Carrie regarded Ethel with surprise as she recognized the validity of her statement, then immediately dug in her purse for her cell phone. She added another note to her long to-do list, then met Ethel’s curious gaze. “Adding a reminder,” she explained. “Do I need to find a supplier or could we work something out?”

  Ethel beamed at her. “I wasn’t angling to make a sale, but I’m happy to help out. I’ll get you anything you need and give you a proper discount, too. Your family practically keeps me in business. I can do this to return the favor.”

  “I know we shop in here a lot, but it’s the tourists who keep this town afloat economically,” Carrie said. “I’ve seen for myself how many bags they carry out of here on any given day.”

  “On any given summer day,” Ethel corrected, then paused, her expression thoughtful as she apparently considered her business trends. “Okay, and maybe in the spring and fall, but it’s the locals who see to it I make it through the winter. I’m not likely to forget that. It helps that your granddaddy is in here most every day buying a big sack of penny candy for all the kids he spoils.”

  Carrie laughed. “Cait and I were the first beneficiaries of that. Between him and Trace, it’s a wonder our teeth didn’t rot.”

  “Well, you and your twin still have those pretty smiles, so it didn’t do either of you any harm. I imagine the other grandchildren and great-grandchildren will do just fine with all that sugar, too.” She put Carrie’s purchases into a bag, then tied a half dozen ribbons around her wrist to keep the balloons from sailing away.

  “Have a good time tonight,” Ethel called after her.

  Ethel’s words lingered as Carrie left the store. She thought of what Sam had in mind for dessert. Maybe they wouldn’t quite get to that, given their pint-size chaperone, but the appetizer leading up to it promised to be superb.

  * * *

  Tears forgotten, Bobby was bouncing with excitement by the time Carrie arrived on their doorstep laden down with bags. To Bobby’s unmistakable delight, she had a bunch of colorful balloons on long, matching ribbons.

  “You’d better tie these to the back of a chair or something,” she advised Sam when she handed them over. “Otherwise, they’ll be on the ceiling when it comes time to release them.” She grinned at Bobby. “Is that what you had in mind—letting them go, so they’d float into the sky where your dad can see them?”

  Bobby nodded. “Won’t that be cool?”

  “It will be amazing.” She brushed his hair back from his forehead, the tender gesture reminding Sam that Bobby was in need of a haircut, something else he’d forgotten about. “And you’re so sweet to have thought of it.”

  Sam bit back a chuckle as Bobby made an exaggerated gagging sound.

  “Not sweet?” Carrie asked innocently. “How about awesome? Incredible? Stupendous?”

  Bobby’s expression faltered at the last suggestion. “I don’t know what that one means.”

  “It means amazing.”

  His smile came back. “Cool.”

  “Let’s see what else we have here for the party,” Sam said as he started poking through the bags. “Cupcakes with chocolate frosting.”

  “The very best kind,” Bobby said. “Daddy loved chocolate. That’s what he always wanted for his birthday.”

  Carrie studied him. “Is chocolate okay for you, too?”

  “I love chocolate,” he confirmed.

  She nodded with evident satisfaction. “I had a feeling about that.”

  “Candles, plates, and what’s this?” Sam drew a pair of brightly colored birthday sunglasses from the bag. “Who’s wearing these? Not me, I hope,” he said, even as he put them on.

  Bobby doubled over with giggles. “You look silly.”

  Carrie smiled. “I think they make you look very handsome. Not every guy is man enough to carry off that style.”

  Sam felt his heart flip over just a little at the teasing. “And you, Ms. Fashion Expert, think I am?” he asked, holding her gaze.

  “Definitely.”

  Something warm and almost tangible shimmered in the air between them until Bobby cut in impatiently.

  “I think I should get to wear the glasses,” he said.

  Sam feigned reluctance as he removed them. “I suppose since this party is for your dad, you probably should get to wear the glasses, but it’s going to be really hard for me to part with them.”

  Bobby looked as if he weren’t quite sure if Sam was serious. Eventually he seemed to conclude he might be. “You can have them back when the party’s over.”

  “Thanks, pal,” Sam said. “Now let’s get this party started before it gets dark out. Bobby, help Carrie put the ice cream in the freezer, so we don’t wind up eating vanilla soup.”

  “Yuck!” Bobby said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the kitchen.

  As they passed close by, Sam leaned toward her and whispered, “I am really, really looking forward
to dessert.”

  She gave him a bland look, even though her eyes were twinkling. “I intend to savor every bite of the main course.”

  Bobby gave the two of them an odd look. “I want everything,” he declared.

  “Then get that ice cream put away and let’s get the grill fired up for the burgers. The buttered corn is ready to go on, too. The guy at the farm stand says it’s about the last of the Silver Queen variety for this year. Bring the salad with you when you come out. Bottles of dressing are in the door of the fridge.”

  Twenty minutes later Sam and Carrie were eating cheeseburgers with thick slices of tomato, while Bobby ate a hot dog, a last-minute substitution in the menu. Sam had cut the grilled cobs of corn into manageable, sweetly delicious bite-size sections.

  “Best burger I’ve had all summer,” Carrie declared.

  “I thought your family had big barbecues all the time,” Sam said. “Or is that just wishful thinking on my part?”

  “Oh, no. Grandpa Mick considers himself king of the grill. He’s in his glory at our annual Fourth of July celebration, the biggest family event of the year aside from Christmas and Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, he’s easily distracted, so we sometimes get very, very well-done hamburgers, and that’s being kind.” She took another bite of her cheeseburger, closed her eyes and sighed. “These, however, are perfect.”

  “Amazing, considering how easily you can distract me,” Sam said.

  “That’s why I stayed busy inside for so long,” Carrie claimed, grinning. “If you think about it, I did not appear until you’d put these burgers onto their buns.”

  “So we owe the success of my cooking to your forethought and consideration?” he asked, laughing.

  She nodded solemnly. “I think so.”

  “When are we gonna have cupcakes and ice cream?” Bobby asked, his mouth full of hot dog.