by Laura Drewry
“Fuck if I know,” Ro grunted. “But I need to get shit started in here if we have any hope of feeding people tonight.”
Maggie pressed her tissue under her nose for a few seconds, then lifted her chin. “I won’t be staying, my Finn. I told Luka that I would come but I wasn’t makin’ any promises. Don’t much like her anyway, so as soon as the helicopter can come back, I’ll be away.”
Liam’s head came up at the same time as Finn sat forward, and even though they both looked as if they had something to say, neither did. And there was no way in hell Ronan was saying anything.
“You boys have work to do,” she said. “And I don’t want to keep you from it, nor do I want to make it awkward for you out there, so if you don’t mind, might I sit here until the helicopter comes back for me?”
“Oh, I don’t—” Ronan started, cut off by the look Finn shot him.
“It’s probably best if she stays here, Ro, unless you want to come up with some happy bullshit story about what’s going on, because I sure as hell don’t need to get into the truth out there with a lodge full of strangers.”
“Finn’s right.” Liam pushed to his feet, tucked the chair under the table, then gripped the back of it as he set his gaze on Maggie. “You have to understand, this is a lot to take in.”
“Aye.” She blinked slowly, her head bobbing in a barely there nod. “And I can’t expect any of you to be welcoming me into your lives, but if you’ve a mind to it, I’d like to leave me address and phone number. That way if any of you should feel the need or want to talk to me again, you can. Anytime. And if you don’t want to hear from me again, I understand.”
Liam’s mouth set in a tight line as he tipped his head toward Jessie’s office, indicating that Finn and Ronan should follow him. Once inside, he slid the pocket door closed and leaned against it while Ro and Finn prowled the cramped space.
“Holy fuck,” Liam breathed. “What do we do?”
“We can’t stay in the kitchen much longer,” Finn said. “Jessie’s out there all alone.”
“And Kate.” It was all Liam said, but it was enough. They’d left poor Kate on her own; God only knew how sick she still might be.
“Go,” Ronan said, forcing himself to focus on the one thing he could without losing his mind: the Buoys. “I don’t know what the fuck Luka and Hope were thinking, but I do know we can’t deal with it right now. We’re going to put Maggie and that fuckin’ Luka on the first Helijet we can get and then we’ll carry on like normal. The film crew’ll be out of here on Thursday, and then we can start to figure out what we’re going to do, if anything.”
“What do you mean ‘if anything’?” Liam asked. “We have to do something; you heard her, Ro, she was sick.”
“Yeah, I heard her, and I’m sorry, but I can’t just erase twenty-one years over a cup of coffee. It doesn’t work like that.” He tipped his chin toward the door. “Go on; you guys need to get out there with the guests.”
Liam reached for the door handle, then stopped. “I get it, Ro, you’re pissed. We’re all scrambling. But before you go and slam the door on her, you need to try and imagine how hard it must have been for her to come up here after all this time. I’m not saying we should all hug it out and act like the last twenty-one years never happened; I’m just saying I think we need to consider what those twenty-one years were like for her, too, before we make any decisions.”
“Fine.”
Liam could talk all he wanted; the only thing Ro could let himself consider right now was whether he’d offer three kinds of salmon tonight or two. Anything else would be too much.
“Okay.” Still Liam didn’t move. Instead, he looked down at the floor for a second before dragging his eyes up to Ro’s. “About Hope.”
“Don’t.” His whole body rigid, his teeth ground together, it was all Ro could do not to lose his fuckin’ mind right there. He wasn’t about to start talking about Hope to anyone. Not yet.
“But she—”
“One more fuckin’ word,” Ro growled, “and you’ll be sipping steak through a straw. Just. Leave it. Alone.”
Liam’s gaze moved past him to where Finn stood, but Ronan didn’t budge.
“Are you gonna be okay with her?” Finn asked. “With Ma, I mean.”
“I’m fine.” He wasn’t even close to being fine, and they all knew it, but what choice did they have? “Just go.”
Neither one of them seemed overly keen to leave Ronan alone with Maggie, but after a long moment, Liam slid the door open and led Finn back through the kitchen.
“We, uh…” Liam hesitated, swiped his arm across his cheek, and sighed.
“Aye,” Maggie said. “You have your work, and I won’t be delayin’ you any longer from it.”
Finn moved over beside Liam and the two of them stood there, as if they were in a stupor for a second. Finally, Finn blinked, shook his head a bit, and elbowed Liam toward the door. And then it was just Ronan and Maggie in the kitchen, listening to the rain pound the skylight.
Every emotion he’d managed to cage up in the last hour or so started pushing to get out again, but Ro wasn’t having it, and the only way to keep everything locked up was to keep his mouth shut until he could get a grip on things.
So while Maggie sat at the table, Ronan went about preparing for supper orders. Salmon, halibut, ribs, steak, pasta, salads, desserts, and all the side dishes he might need were prepped and ready to go, and still neither one of them said a word.
Jessie poked her head in twice to see how he was doing, both times giving him her best unspoken “bullshit” look when he assured her he was fine. He took JD outside, but the dog wasn’t interested in being out in the rain, even though it had slowed quite a bit, so Ronan went back into the kitchen and wiped everything down again.
There was nothing to do now but wait for the orders to start coming in. With a dish towel hanging over his shoulder, he folded his arms over his chest, leaned against the counter, and asked the question that had been bugging him since he realized who she was.
“Where’d the name Peggy Flynn come from?”
It was the first thing spoken between them in over an hour, and yet Maggie didn’t seem the least bit surprised he’d asked.
“Peggy’s just another form of Margaret, like Maggie was, and Flynn was me best friend’s name back home. I began usin’ it the first time they released me from hospital, because I thought it would be a good idea to start new with everything. And then after Liam made the ball team, I didn’t want anyone to connect him to someone like me, so it made more sense to be Peggy Flynn.”
“Did you change it legally?”
“Aye. And before you say it, I know the paperwork would make it easy enough to connect me to all of you. I knew it long before that Luka tracked me down, but at the time I wasn’t quite drivin’ on all cylinders.”
Ro squeezed his eyes shut tight for a second, trying to focus on one question at a time.
“How would she even know about you?” The question was out before his brain snapped down on it. There was only one way Luka would know about Maggie, and that was if Hope had told her. He’d seen Hope’s notes, had seen Maggie’s name right there on the page under her questions about the guest rooms.
“At first I thought—or maybe I just hoped—that one of you boys had asked her to find me, because she showed me photos and some video of this place, of you boys, and of the pictures you have hangin’ in the white cabin. All these years and you still have that god-awful photo of me.”
Damn Jessie for making them keep that picture up.
“But the more Luka talked, the more I realized you boys hadn’t asked her at all, did ya?”
Ro didn’t answer.
“By the time I figured it out, it didn’t matter to me anymore who ’twas that came lookin’. All I knew was that if I didn’t come now, if I didn’t look you in the eye and tell you I’m sorry, I never would.” She pursed her lips a little before continuing. “ ’Twasn’t like I didn’t know wh
ere this place was, and after I taught meself how to use the Google, you were all easy enough to find, but I was too scared to do anything. God help me, I’m still scared, my Ronan.”
The sudden ring of the phone made Ro start, but it also gave him an excuse to get away from her before he fessed up to how scared he was, too, or to how many times he’d searched her name online. There were plenty of Maggie and Margaret O’Donnells, but none of them were her.
“Thank you for calling the Buoys,” he said, knowing he sounded robotic but unable to change it. “This is Ronan…yeah, hi…Great…Yeah, okay, send the bill to Luka—you have her info, yeah? Good. See you in a bit.”
He put the phone back in its cradle and walked straight past Maggie toward the door to the pub. He pushed it open just wide enough to stick his head and shoulders through. Jessie was down at the other end of the bar, taking an order from a guest, but she hustled toward Ro as soon as she was done.
“Helijet’s on its way,” he said quietly. “Can you get someone to make sure Luka’s on the dock, ready to go?”
Jessie nodded solemnly as she handed him the dinner order she’d just taken, but by the time she turned to the guests, she was once again sporting her perfectly crafted smile.
“Give me two seconds,” she said to the guests in the room. “I’ll be right back.”
Ronan left her to it and set to work on the orders he finally had.
“Your ride’ll be here in about fifteen minutes,” he said to Maggie. “If you need help getting down to the dock, I can arrange—”
“Don’t be daft,” Maggie said, pushing to her feet. “I know damn well where the dock is, and I’m not so old that I need help gettin’ there.”
She pulled a notepad and pen out of her purse, scrawled something on it, then ripped the page out and slid it under her still-full mug.
“I know I was the first woman to break your heart,” she said quietly. “And for certain, that’s a scar not easily healed, but I hope one day you can try to understand what my mind was like and try to forgive me, Ronan. I won’t be contactin’ you or your brothers again unless you tell me that’s what you’re wantin’.”
The kitchen door flew open and in stormed Luka, with Kate hot on her heels.
“Now, you listen to me,” Luka said, jabbing her finger at Ronan, who refused to move and instead stood staring back at her, unblinking. “You and I have a signed contract that says I can bring one guest of my choosing here each week to be part of this show, so if you think for one second I’m going to let you bully us out of here, Ronan, you are sadly mistaken.”
“Oh, shut your bloody mouth.” Maggie clicked her tongue as she shrugged into her jacket. “Who the hell d’you think you are, stompin’ in here like that and tellin’ my boy what he can and cannot do on his own land?”
If it had been anyone else saying that, Ro might have given her a fist bump, but it was Maggie, so he forced his expression to stay neutral, unimpressed with either of them.
“Well,” Luka huffed. “We have an agreement.”
“Aye, you have an agreement with me, as well, and guess what?” Maggie’s eyes, so much like the ones Ro saw in the mirror every day, dared Luka to speak. She didn’t, so Maggie kept going. “You can shove that agreement right up your arse. That helicopter will be here shortly, and unless you’d like to swim home, I’m going to suggest you take a seat on it with me.”
Kate, still a little pale, stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes huge and mouth hanging open until Ronan hooked his finger under her chin and nudged her mouth closed again. It took some effort, but he managed to keep his voice low and even.
“I’m not kidding, Luka, contract or no contract, if you use one word of what my brothers or I said in this room today—”
“The video belongs to Hooked.”
“You’re right,” he said, nodding briefly. “It does. But unless you’re looking for a legal shitstorm the likes of which you can’t even imagine, you’d best think twice before you include any of the audio.”
Without another word, Maggie pushed Luka’s bag into her arms, then lifted her own and nodded.
“We’ll be leavin’ you now.”
“Uh, right.” Still wide-eyed, Kate waved them toward the pub. “I’ll take you through this way so you’re not tripping over JD.”
“JD.” Maggie snorted quietly as she walked past Ronan. “For the love of Peter and Paul, please tell me the animal’s not named after a bottle of whiskey.”
“No, no,” Kate said, laughing nervously. “It stands for John Doe; he was a stray, you see, and…”
Ronan didn’t hear anything else, because they’d already disappeared into the pub and his mind had shut out everything except the fact that, after all these years, Maggie had just walked in and out of their lives again.
Maggie.
And she wasn’t the raving bitch he’d turned her into in his mind; she wasn’t even the constantly tired, sad, and disinterested person he remembered from his childhood. She’d been upset sitting there at the table, sure, but it was completely different from what she used to be like.
Back then, her sadness made it seem as if everything was hopeless, as if she was barely holding on by the skin of her teeth. But seeing her now, crying the way she did, it wasn’t anything like that. The tears she cried today were full of remorse and regret, but they weren’t hopeless. If they were, she never would have come, and she sure as hell wouldn’t have left her address and phone number on the table.
He hadn’t yet touched the piece of paper she left and wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to. Touching it would make it real, and he couldn’t deal with that right now. Just as he couldn’t deal with knowing that Hope had been a part of this and that she hadn’t left on the Helijet with Luka and Maggie. She was probably in the great room, talking to the guests as she did every week and acting as if she hadn’t just destroyed him.
No. He couldn’t deal with that, either. All he could deal with was this moment and the salmon he was broiling. Or, rather, burning.
“Shit.”
Chapter 16
“You will show him you remember that he is Mr. Incredible, and you will remind him who you are.”
Edna Mode, The Incredibles
From the second Hope looked up and realized who Ronan was charging toward on the dock, everything inside her flew into a state of panic, followed immediately by a crashing wave of guilt. She’d read Luka’s email this morning and had loved the idea that the last guest of the season was going to be a long-lost relative, because that’s what the Buoys was all about: family.
But if she’d known that long-lost relative was actually Maggie O’D—wife…Damn that Luka.
No, Hope fumed. She couldn’t lay this all on Luka. Most of it, yes, but if Hope had been more focused on the job and on researching the guests instead of dreaming about how long she’d have to wait to get Ronan naked again, she would have found out who Peggy Flynn was. She should have dug and dug until she’d found out everything there was to know about Peggy, and then, Luka be damned, Hope could have warned Ronan.
But it was too late, and the second she realized that, the only thing she could think to do was to block him from getting close to Maggie, because she stupidly believed if she could keep him away, it wouldn’t hurt him so much.
She couldn’t have been more wrong, not only because his emotional wounds ripped open the second he saw Maggie standing there but also because Hope had something to do with it. And with everything happening so fast, and the cameras constantly rolling, there wasn’t time or space for Hope to talk to him. Even if she could have, he was making it pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with her. He wouldn’t even look at her.
The rest of them weren’t much friendlier.
The whole thing was so far out of Hope’s grasp, she didn’t know what she should do. She knew what she wanted to do—she wanted to march into the kitchen and force Ronan to listen to her, to somehow make him believe she hadn’t known that Peggy Flynn was
Maggie, that all Luka had told her was that Peggy Flynn was family from Dublin.
Was she an aunt? Grandmother? Cousin? Which side of the family was she from? Had the O’Donnells ever met her before? These were all questions Hope should have asked but didn’t, because she’d chosen to spend all her research time running her tongue over every inch of Ronan.
So she couldn’t blame them all for freezing her out the way they did.
Every time Liam or Finn walked by Hope, she wanted to grab them and try to make them listen, but she couldn’t—not only because they were doing their very best to make out that everything was normal, even though the entire lodge had heard Ronan yelling, but because the simple fact that their mother had shown up the way she did was more than enough for them to deal with.
They didn’t need Hope desperately trying to explain anything, no matter how much she wanted to and no matter how much it killed her to know that Ronan was standing in the kitchen, trying to deal with the most painful thing in his life.
And because it pained him, it pained her. He must hate her; he did hate her. It poured off him like steam down on the dock when he told her to move, and every second that had passed since that moment was another knife through Hope’s heart. So many times she’d started toward the kitchen and then stopped because the only thing that would make all of this worse was if she dragged more of Ronan’s private life into the open, and that’s exactly what she’d be doing by going in there.
Everything would be caught on film, and God only knew what Luka and the editors would do with it.
She couldn’t even have it out with Luka, because Luka had gone down to Hope’s room to work, and Chuck and Kevin needed Hope upstairs with them. She didn’t want to go downstairs anyway; she needed to be close to Ronan, even if he didn’t want anything to do with her.
Time had never moved so slowly. Finn, Liam, and a still-pale Kate had been mingling with the guests for over an hour when Jessie came out of the pub and said something to Kate that sent her downstairs. A minute later she was back, chasing Luka through the lobby toward the kitchen, and shortly after that, Kate was leading both Luka and Maggie toward the front door.
