by Debbie Mason
“Well, we’re going to change that today. Oh, no. Don’t think you’re going to argue or wheedle your way out of this. I might look sweet, but I’m a tyrant when I need to be. Just ask my husband.” She gave Arianna’s hand a gentle squeeze. “This is important, lovey, and not just so you’re aware of any changes that might indicate infection, but because you need to accept it for you to truly heal.”
She let go of her hand. “So while I take some bloodwork and your temperature, you’re going to cream your arm, and instead of turning away while you do, you’re going to look at every inch of your arm and hand and fingers. And as you do, you’re going to thank God that you have an arm that works and fingers that are healing. Even if they never work like they once did, they do work.”
Arianna nodded, knowing that Dorothy was right. And while she smoothed the cream over her skin, she thanked God not only for her arm and hand but for Dorothy and the young teenage mother and her beautiful son.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Connor sat on the well-worn love seat in his great-grandmother’s suite of rooms in the manor’s tower. Rumor had it his uncle had vacated the suite because it was haunted. Connor wished it was. He could use his great-grandmother’s wisdom and advice.
He placed his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. He was hungover. He’d spent the rest of last night drowning his sorrows in a bottle of his grandpa Ronan’s finest whiskey. His cousins and brother had joined him.
His cousin Liam knew something of what Connor was going through, but the one person who knew exactly how he felt, he hadn’t been ready to talk to. Angry, feeling betrayed, he’d been afraid of what he’d say. Afraid he’d say things that would remain between them, things he couldn’t take back. Because despite everything, he loved Arianna and always would.
The door creaked open, and he groaned. “Unless you have aspirin and coffee, go away.”
“How about a cold cloth and my special morning-after drink?” his mother said. She smiled when he raised his eyes but not his head. “You look awful, darling.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
She draped the cloth over the back of his neck and picked up his hand to close it around the cool glass. “Drink up.” Holding the cloth, he leaned back against the love seat and lifted the glass to his lips.
His mother walked to the French doors that looked out onto the harbor. “I knew I’d find you here. Whenever you were hurting or needed advice, you’d come to the tower looking for Colleen.” She cast him a slight smile over her shoulder. “I was jealous of her, you know. I wanted to be like her, her and Kitty. I tried so hard to make them like me.”
“You and Grams get along great now.”
“We do, don’t we? It’s been a nice change. I shouldn’t have tried so hard in the beginning, and then I should have tried much harder over the past several years. I don’t think any of you realized how difficult it was for me when your father left politics. That’s all we’d ever had.”
He frowned, not sure what was going on, but he had the feeling his mother needed to get this off her chest. She certainly must have been deep in thought or back in her past because she didn’t hear the door open or notice his father come into the room. Connor placed a finger to his lips. His father nodded and leaned against the bureau, arms crossed, looking at his wife standing with her back to them.
“You must have had more than that, Mom. How did you and Dad meet?”
“I was dating your uncle at the time. Daniel was fun, ruggedly handsome, always up for a good time. I know you’re probably wondering what he saw in me. But once, a long time ago, I was fun too. Then my mother got sick, and we were having a hard time making ends meet. Daniel said he’d talk to his brother. He said if anyone knew what programs were available to us, it would be Sean. He was right. And the minute your father walked into our living room, all confident and take-charge, I was a goner.”
“Poor Uncle Daniel,” Connor said, glancing at his father, who waggled his eyebrows at him.
“Don’t feel too sorry for your uncle. I think he was dating my best friend the very next day.”
“So, when did you fall out of love with Dad?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him with a frown. “It’s your father who fell out of love with me.”
“Are you mad, woman? Where did you get an idea like that?”
His mother whirled around. “Sean. How long have you been here?” She glared at Connor.
He shrugged, wondering how he’d gotten caught up in his parents’ drama. Did they not think he had enough drama and heartache to deal with on his own?
“Long enough to hear you spouting your nonsense.” His father walked over to his mother and took her in his arms. “I’ve always loved you, even when you weren’t the easiest woman to love.”
She pulled away from him to wrap her arms around her waist. “I know I wasn’t easy. I was actually pretty awful. And it’s probably not a good excuse, but I was scared. I didn’t come from your world, Sean. I worked hard to fit in because I wanted to make you proud. I never wanted you to be embarrassed of me. But then the world I worked so hard to fit into didn’t want me after you left politics. All the friends I made, they weren’t really friends. And when you went back to practicing law, you didn’t need or want me to throw dinner parties or lunches, so I put all my hopes and dreams on poor Michael, and when he chose a different path than the one I’d charted for him, I lost any connection to the only world I knew. No one wanted me around, and then you retired, Sean, and you didn’t want me either. If you weren’t golfing, you were playing racquetball or poker.”
His dad looked shocked, and Connor knew how he felt. “I had no idea, Maura. I wish you had told me.”
“I tried.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. Mike, Logan, and I should have picked up on it too.”
“No. Don’t apologize.” She came to sit with him on the couch. “I honestly didn’t come up here to talk about myself. I wanted to talk to you about Arianna and your baby. I’m so sorry, darling.”
His father sat on the other side of him and rubbed Connor’s back. “We both are, son. I wish I had the words to take the pain away, for both of you. Have you spoken to Arianna since last night?”
“No. I’m not sure what to say. I know she was young—we both were—and I understand she was having a tough time at home, but I deserved to know she was carrying my child.”
“You did, but you have to remember this was not Arianna’s decision alone,” his mother said. “I imagine Beverly was very much involved. And she wasn’t particularly fond of men at the time, having just been left by her husband for another woman. I’m sure the last thing she could think about was dealing with a pregnant teenager, and she certainly wouldn’t have wanted you and your father and me standing in the way of what she saw as the solution to her problem.”
“Your mother’s right. You need to talk to Arianna, son. You need to grieve together. Don’t let this come between you.”
“And, darling, don’t let the race for mayor come between you either. I was watching you with Arianna last night, and as much as I think you would be as wonderful a governor as your father, I don’t want you to end up like us. I don’t want politics to become your life.”
“So you don’t want me to run for governor?”
“Of course we do, if that’s what you want. We’ll be there supporting you all the way if you decide to run. I just don’t want it to define who you and Arianna are as a couple. And I don’t want you to feel that the only way to get our time and attention is running for mayor or governor or anything else.”
“And you didn’t have to take one for the Gallagher team to get your mother and me back together. Although it probably did help speed things up,” his father said, reaching across Connor to take his mother’s hand.
“Which of my brothers have you been talking to?” Connor asked his parents.
“Both.” His mother smiled. “They’re also worried that the mayoral race will come b
etween you and Arianna.”
Connor leaned his head against the back of the couch and thought about everything his parents had just said. He thought about Arianna, the child who had been stolen as much from her as from him. And he thought about his future, one with Arianna in it and one without her.
He sat up. “I want you to know that while I may have entered the mayoral race for the wrong reasons, I wanted it too. I always have. Politics is in my blood, thanks to you two. I want to make a difference, and I think I can. And one day I will, just not now. I’m going to call Hazel and ask her to withdraw my name from the race. I’ll ask her to keep it quiet, so you guys need to do the same. I don’t want Arianna to think she won by default. She deserves it as much as I do, and she also needs it more than me. The people of Harmony Harbor will be lucky to have her. She’ll make an amazing mayor.”
“All right. Good. Now, get going. Your mother and I have lots to talk about. We have to figure out what to do with all our free time until you need us to run your next political campaign.”
As he walked to the door, Connor heard his mother giggle and then the sound of kissing. “You do know that Uncle Daniel says GG is haunting this room, which means she’s watching you make out on her couch?”
A book fell from the shelf, and Conner could have sworn he heard his grandmother chuckle.
* * *
Arianna walked along the sidewalk toward the redbrick church, her boots crunching on the packed snow. It was a beautiful winter night. The air was crisp with a slight tang of salt from the ocean, which you could hear if you listened close, and the smell of woodsmoke from the chimneys of the houses along the street. The stars and the sliver of moon above the church’s white spire competed with the street’s brightly colored Christmas lights.
She wondered if she was late and had missed the carolers who’d asked her to join them tonight. She took out her phone to check the time, listening for voices raised in song, but all she heard was footsteps behind her. She turned to see a tall man in a black coat, an incredibly handsome man, a man she hadn’t spoken to since he’d looked in her tear-filled eyes and asked her why. She didn’t think she’d ever forget the look of devastation and betrayal on Connor’s face.
She didn’t know what to say or do. Did she throw herself at his feet and beg forgiveness? Did she pretend the secret she’d kept for so many years hadn’t destroyed their happily-ever-after? She glanced at the church, thinking God had been unbelievably cruel, giving her hope for a second chance only to steal it away.
She needn’t have worried about saying anything. Like he always did, Connor took complete and utter control, holding her gaze as he walked the last few feet toward her and the individual clouds of their breath became one. “I’m sorry I walked away. I just needed some time,” he said, folding her in his arms.
She nodded against the soft wool of his coat as all the scenarios that had played in her mind for the past twenty-four hours finally quieted. A sense of deep contentment and peace enveloped her. It was the best Christmas present she could have asked for or hoped for.
Lifting her head from his chest, she said, “I’m sorry I walked away from you that night at Kismet Cove. It was one of the worst mistakes I ever made. The others were not telling you about the baby—both times, in the beginning and in the end. Sorry just doesn’t seem to be—” The doors to the church opened, capturing them in a beam of light.
Connor walked her backward along the sidewalk until they stood in front of the nativity scene, its life-size figurines housed in a stable. “I love you. I always have, and I always will, and I know you feel the same way about me. For now that’s enough. We’ll talk later,” he said, smiling down at her as laughter and chatter filtered out from the doors.
“You’re coming caroling too?” she asked, stepping out of his arms.
“Yeah. I—” He frowned, looking around. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” she asked, and then she heard what sounded like a baby whimpering. She turned to look at the cradle in the nativity scene and saw the movement of a tiny hand. “Connor, it’s a baby. Someone’s left a real baby in the manger.” She rushed inside the stable to the cradle. “Did you hear me, Connor? There’s a—”
“I know, babe. I’m trying to see where they’re watching from. They’re here somewhere.”
She reached inside the cradle for the baby and gasped. “I know him. Connor, I know this baby. It’s David. I met his mother. Dawn—”
Connor rushed inside. “Put the baby back in the cradle and then push Mary out of the way and put her shawl over your head.” He shrugged out of his coat. Placing it in the cradle, he motioned for her to put the baby down. “Come on. The carolers are on their way. We have to convince them the mother let us borrow him to play Baby Jesus.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, even as she did what he asked and lay the baby in the cradle.
“If we can’t convince them we’re playing out the nativity scene and they discover the mother left the baby here, she’ll be charged with child abandonment and endangerment,” he said, pushing Joseph out of the way to take his place. He grabbed a blue shawl off the life-size figurine and put it around his own shoulders.
“We can’t let that happen. I saw her with him, Connor,” Arianna said as she nudged Mary out of the way, placing the shawl over her own head and shoulders. “She loves him. She’s good with him. She just needs help. Her parents kicked her out of the house, and she’s living with her boyfriend. They’re young, so very young.”
“Like we would have been,” he said quietly, stroking the baby’s cheek.
“Yes, like we would have been.” They didn’t say anything, both lost, she imagined, in thoughts of what their lives might have been like if Arianna’s mother hadn’t done what she had. She didn’t agree with how her mother had handled things, but she’d gained some insight into what might have motivated her.
“Showtime,” Connor whispered as they heard the crunch of footsteps drawing near.
Arianna held Connor’s gaze as several people came to stand in front of the nativity scene. He gave her a confident smile and winked.
“Hazel, did Father O’Malley…? Oh my. Look, they’re real. The baby is real, and so are Mary and Joseph.”
“It’s our mayors!”
“Look, it’s Arianna Bell and Connor Gallagher!” someone else shouted to the sounds of more feet running their way.
Arianna kept her gaze on the baby and Connor, swallowing a groan when cameras on phones started clicking, the flashes blinding. And then the carolers began to sing “The Little Drummer Boy.” She widened her eyes at Connor when, instead of ending with that, they launched into “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” Connor touched the baby’s cheek and nodded, indicating he was okay.
One of the carolers must have picked up on their concern for the baby and ushered the other singers along. Several people called out their thanks before walking away.
“I thought they’d never leave,” Arianna said, reaching into the cradle to lift the baby into her arms. “You’re safe, David. They won’t take you away from your mommy.”
“Unless she wants them to,” Connor said.
“You’re right, and maybe she will, but she needs to know what support is available to her before she makes her decision.”
“That’s what you’ve been working on with Evie, isn’t it?” Connor said as he removed the blue shawl from his shoulders and put Joseph back in his rightful place.
She nodded. Connor came over, drawing the shawl from her head before wrapping both her and the baby in his coat. “I’m parked about a block away. Do you have any idea where we can find Dawn?” he asked as he returned the shawl to Mary.
“No, but I know someone who might. Dorothy DiRossi.”
“Okay. I’ll get her number from Ava, but first let me take another look around. When I left Comet on your porch, I didn’t leave until I knew he was okay and you’d taken him inside. If Dawn is the kind of mother you’re making her o
ut to be, I can’t help but think she’s out there close by, waiting to see what we’re going to do with the baby.”
“You would have been a wonderful father.”
“I’d like to think I would have, but we were young.”
“Will wanted to meet us, you know. Our son, they named him William, but he was mostly called Will. Just months before the accident, he’d told his parents he wanted to find us. His grandmother said her daughter and son-in-law were apprehensive, but they doted on Will and wouldn’t deny him anything. They promised to help him find us. They had no idea of the circumstances of his adoption. His grandmother was devastated when I told her. Furious at my mother’s friend, the one I stayed with in L.A, who’d arranged the adoption. It was private, and they were old family friends.”
She bowed her head, her stomach turning at what she was about to tell him.
“What is it?” He gently clasped her chin to force her gaze to his. “Tell me.”
“Will had begun preparing to meet us. He’d written a letter telling us about himself, his likes and dislikes, his hobbies, his friends, his mom and dad. He’d put together a photo album with the help of his parents. Photos of all the important moments of his…of…”
“Take your time.” He wiped away her tears.
“He was a beautiful baby, a beautiful boy. He looked like you. From his letter, you could tell he was sweet, kind, funny, and thoughtful. He wasn’t angry we gave him away. He loved his life, his mom and dad. He was happy.”
She could feel Connor’s eyes upon her and looked up through her tears.
“The grandmother sent you the letter and photos, didn’t she? That’s why you went back to your office that night, isn’t it?”
“They were in a locked drawer in my office. And now they’re gone and he’s gone, and I have nothing to remember him by. I couldn’t save him, and I couldn’t save the pieces of him that I had left, the only part of him I could have shared with you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so…”
