A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

by Sherryl Woods

  When he walked into the kitchen on Friday night and found both Abby and Nell sitting at the table, he knew his time for avoiding this latest mess was over.

  “Your dinner’s in the oven, probably all dried out,” Nell commented without a hint of apology. “Serves you right for not coming home on time and not calling.”

  “Sorry, Ma,” he said, then glanced at Abby and noted her sour expression. “Everything okay with you?”

  “I think you know it’s not,” she said icily.

  “You’ve spoken to your brother, then?” he said, resigned.

  Abby regarded him critically. “Dad, what were you thinking? You banished Connor. I know he’s stubborn and exasperating, but he’s family.”

  “Apparently he’s also a tattletale,” Mick said, though he knew that was hardly the point. “I didn’t expect him to go running to his big sister whining about it.”

  “What did you expect?” Nell inquired. “That he’d take this punishment of yours quietly? That’s not in his makeup. Surely you know him well enough to know that.”

  “I was hoping to shake him up,” Mick said with a shrug. “I wanted him to see how important my marriage to his mother is to me. I wanted him to accept it and get on board.”

  “Well, I’d say your approach backfired,” Nell said. “He’s angrier than ever.”

  “Does Mom know about this?” Abby asked.

  “Of course not,” Nell answered for him. She directed an accusing look his way as she plunked his reheated food in front of him. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be avoiding her calls.”

  “I’m not avoiding Megan,” he said, though of course he was. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Interesting that being overwhelmed with work hasn’t kept you from speaking to her half a dozen times a day for the past few months,” Nell noted. “Did you think she wouldn’t notice that you haven’t spoken all week? She’s been calling here for days now looking for answers. Did you expect me to lie for you?”

  Mick stared at his mother in dismay. “You didn’t tell her what’s going on, did you?”

  “It’s not up to me,” Nell replied. “You do your own dirty work.”

  “I’ll call her tonight,” he promised, cutting into the overcooked, dried-up piece of beef on his plate. Not even his mother’s excellent gravy could save it. He pushed the plate aside.

  “And say what?” Abby wanted to know. “Are you going to tell her about Connor?”

  “For all I know he’s blabbed to her himself,” he grumbled.

  “If he were speaking to her, he might have, but I doubt he broke silence to fill her in on this,” Abby said. “Dad, you need to fix this before Mom finds out. If she hears about you telling Connor to stay away from his own home, you know she’ll postpone the wedding until it’s resolved.”

  Mick grimaced. “That’s what I was trying to avoid when I went to see him. I wanted peace.”

  “And instead you’ve made it worse,” Nell said. “Mick, you’ve always had the tact of a bulldozer. And Connor’s more like you than anyone else in the family. You should have known better.”

  He scowled at the two women. “Are you going to sit here berating me, or are you going to help me straighten this out before Megan gets wind of it? Do either one of you actually have any helpful suggestions?”

  “You could start by calling Connor and apologizing. Tell him you didn’t mean it,” Abby suggested.

  “But I meant every word,” Mick argued stubbornly. “He’s the one who needs to change his attitude.”

  “You’re not going to win him over by banishing him,” Nell said. “That’s not a tactic to win anyone’s heart. All it tells him is that you’re choosing his mother over him.”

  “Well, what would you have me do?” he asked testily. “Cave in and tell him it’s just fine if he wants to do his best to ruin the wedding?”

  “Of course not,” Abby said. “But he needs to spend more time here, not less, and he and Mom need to be thrown together as much as possible. She’ll win him over. It may not happen on your timetable, but it will happen.”

  “I’m not postponing this wedding,” Mick insisted, his jaw set.

  “If Mom finds out about this, you may not have a choice,” Abby said realistically. “She’s determined that this family will be united and at peace before the ceremony takes place.”

  “Well, I can’t be expected to work miracles, now can I?” Mick grumbled and threw down his napkin.

  Nell put her hand on his. “No, but ’tis the season of them. Perhaps there’s one waiting in the wings.”

  Mick’s faith was as strong as any man’s most of the time. Right this second, though, he doubted there was a miracle on tap that could possibly fix this mess he’d made.

  * * *

  Megan knew there was something seriously wrong in Chesapeake Shores. Even if Mick hadn’t been clearly avoiding her, it was plain in Nell’s voice and in Abby’s. No matter how hard she’d tried, though, she hadn’t been able to get the truth out of either one of them.

  “I can’t get down there this weekend to see for myself,” she complained to Abby. “Keeping me in the dark is just making me imagine all sorts of things. Is it the baby? Has Bree been having problems with her pregnancy?”

  “Bree is fine,” Abby assured her. “Healthy as a horse, according to the doctor. She seems to have more energy than ever. She’s been getting ready for the children’s Christmas play at her theater. I went to a rehearsal the other night and the kids are absolutely precious, Mom. Wait till you see them.”

  “I’m sure they are,” Megan said distractedly. “What about Jess? Is she okay? The inn hasn’t suffered another financial setback, has it?”

  “Business at the inn is booming. Jess is doing a fantastic job. Bookings for the holidays are strong.”

  “Kevin and Shanna, they’re okay? Henry’s biological father isn’t making trouble about the adoption, is he?”

  “Mother, I can’t speak for every single person in Chesapeake Shores, but all of the O’Briens are just fine,” Abby said, apparently losing patience with Megan’s persistent, probing questions. “Now I need to go. I promised Carrie and Caitlyn I’d take them into town to see the decorations today. Santa’s going to be at Ethel’s, too. They’ve already put on their coats and gloves. I need to get them out of the house before they roast or burst with excitement.”

  “Well, if you happen to cross paths with your father, tell him that if I don’t hear from him by the end of the day, the wedding’s off,” she said, meaning it.

  Just because Abby had uttered a bunch of reassuring platitudes didn’t make Megan believe her. Being kept in the dark about something was unacceptable, and she knew without a doubt that Mick was somehow all mixed up in this pact of silence.

  “You don’t mean that,” Abby said, sounding dismayed.

  “Actually I do,” she said firmly. “I will not turn my life upside down to come back there, if this is the way I can expect to be treated. I feel like an outsider, instead of a member of this family. You’re all keeping secrets from me, and I want you to know I don’t like it.”

  “I’m not the one who needs to hear that,” Abby protested.

  “Well, of course you aren’t,” Megan said impatiently. “If I could get your father on the phone for two minutes, I’d tell him that myself. Since I can’t, you’ll just have to be the messenger.”

  “Mom, I really don’t want to get caught in the middle,” Abby said, a pleading note in her voice.

  “Oh, fiddlesticks. You’ve planted yourself in the middle for quite some time now. You should be used to the role.”

  Abby sighed. “I love you, Mom.”

  “And I love you. It’s my feelings for your father I’m starting to question. Give the girls huge hugs for me, okay?”

  “Will do
,” Abby promised.

  Megan let her go, then hung up, even more frustrated than she’d been when she made the call. She looked up and found her boss regarding her worriedly.

  “Megan, are you absolutely certain that moving back to Chesapeake Shores and marrying Mick is what you want?” Phillip Margolin asked. “If Mick is already shutting you out, it seems to me that’s not a good sign.”

  She met his concerned gaze. “Right this second, I’m not sure about anything,” she admitted.

  “Then stay,” he urged. “You know you’re valued here. You’ve made a wonderful life for yourself in New York.”

  “I have,” she conceded. “But my family’s there. I don’t want to live the rest of my life apart from them.”

  “Even though Mick is clearly exasperating you?”

  She smiled. Only a lifelong confirmed bachelor could ask a question like that. “That’s what he does, but I can’t seem to make myself stop loving him just the same.”

  From the moment she’d told Phillip of her plans, he’d tried to be supportive, but it was plain he wasn’t above using this to keep her right where she was. Letting her go was going to disrupt the smooth running of his gallery. Still, his tone resigned, he asked, “Do you want to go down there now and find out for yourself what’s going on?”

  She considered the offer, then shook her head. “We have the opening next week. Whatever’s going on in Chesapeake Shores can wait until I go there for Thanksgiving.”

  “Are you certain? Will you be able to focus if you’re worrying about your family?”

  “I’ve always worried about my family,” she reminded him. “And I’ve never lost focus yet.”

  That didn’t mean the next two weeks wouldn’t be a struggle, but perhaps it was just as well not to be anywhere near Mick when he seemed intent on infuriating her.

  * * *

  Mick sat at a table in the coffee area of Shanna’s bookstore, relieved to be around family who apparently had no idea about what was going on or about the secret he was keeping from Megan. He’d found a new mystery by his favorite author, poured himself a steaming cup of coffee and was contentedly reading when Davy and Henry suddenly appeared. Davy immediately climbed into his lap, while Henry stood shyly by. Mick brightened at the sight of them.

  “Well, now, where did the two of you come from?” he asked as Davy dug in Mick’s pocket and retrieved two wrapped candies, then handed one to Henry.

  “We were looking at the store windows with Aunt Abby, Carrie and Caitlyn,” Henry said.

  “I saw Santa,” Davy announced excitedly. “He was at Ethel’s. He promised he’s going to bring lots and lots of presents for Henry and me.”

  “Is that so?” Mick said. “Have you sent him a list?”

  Davy shook his head. “I told him what I want.”

  “Well, it never hurts for Santa to have it in writing,” Mick said. He noticed that Henry looked skeptical and gathered that he’d already stopped believing. Still, he clearly didn’t intend to ruin it for his younger brother.

  “Maybe Mommy will help me make one,” Davy said, a worried frown puckering his brow. “Henry can write his own. He knows how.”

  “I know. He’s a very smart young man,” Mick said, giving the older boy a wink. “Why wait, though? If you ask your mother for a piece of paper, maybe I can help you now.”

  Davy’s eyes immediately brightened. “Really?”

  “Sure. I’ve written many a letter to Santa over the years.”

  After Davy had run off, Mick beckoned for Henry to come closer. “Are you so sure Santa doesn’t exist?”

  “I knew better when I was seven,” he said sadly. “I told him all I wanted was for my daddy to get better, but he hasn’t. He’s still sick. He can’t take care of me anymore.”

  Henry’s biological father was an alcoholic whose liver had been severely damaged by the disease. That’s why Shanna, who’d only briefly been his stepmother, had been given custody after negotiating the arrangement with Henry’s father and grandparents. Now Kevin had legally adopted him, as well. At the same time Shanna had formally adopted Davy, whose biological mom had died while serving in Iraq. They were the ultimate modern family, pieced together by love.

  “But your dad still loves you very much,” Mick assured Henry. “That’s why he’s agreed to let you be with Shanna and Kevin, so you’ll have the kind of life you deserve. Maybe that’s the gift that Santa meant for you—the gift of a new family, plus your old one. You’re very lucky to have so many people who love you.”

  Henry pondered that in the serious little way he had, then nodded. “I suppose.”

  “So maybe Santa would bring you something special this Christmas if he knew you still believed in him. Why not get a piece of paper and take a chance?” Mick coaxed.

  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Henry said, his eyes suddenly brimming with hope.

  “Go then and bring your paper back here. I’ll see that Santa gets your letter and Davy’s.”

  “Thanks, Grandpa Mick.”

  As he scampered off, Abby settled into the chair opposite him.

  “So much for finding a refuge in here,” he muttered with a resigned sigh.

  “I have a message from Mom,” she said.

  Mick’s stomach knotted with dread. “Oh?”

  “She says if she doesn’t hear from you very, very soon, the wedding’s off.”

  “Now, what kind of message is that to be sending through you?” Mick blustered.

  “The kind sent by a frustrated woman who’s losing patience,” Abby assessed. “Now that I’ve delivered it, I’m taking the girls next door for lunch. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “I have letters to Santa to oversee,” he said. “And then I’ve a phone call to make.”

  She patted his hand. “Good decision.”

  Mick wondered about that, because right this second he had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to Megan that wouldn’t wind up with her not just postponing their wedding, but canceling it.

  * * *

  Mick had tucked the boys’ letters to Santa into his pocket and sent them off for naps when Kevin appeared. Apparently he was taking over for his wife while she dealt with settling the boys upstairs in the apartment where she’d lived before marrying Kevin. She’d kept it so the kids could be cared for close by while she worked in the store.

  “So, Dad, what’s going on between you and Connor?” Kevin asked point-blank, studying him intently.

  “Who says there’s anything going on?” Mick replied defensively. “You saw the way he stormed out of the house. He’s not happy about your mother and me remarrying.”

  “I know that, but when I spoke to him the other day and suggested he come down and go fishing today, he mumbled some kind of ridiculous excuse that didn’t make a bit of sense. I reminded him I needed his help to get the boat ready for the lighted boat parade the first weekend in December, and he blew that off, too.”

  “Maybe he’s busy,” Mick suggested. “He’s working hard to make partner at the law firm, and he probably spends a lot of his spare time with that woman he’s been seeing.”

  Kevin looked surprised. “You know about Heather?”

  Mick brightened. “Is that her name?”

  Kevin frowned at him. “You were just taking a stab in the dark, weren’t you, you sneaky old man? You had no idea he was dating anyone.”

  “He’s a good-looking, successful young man. I never thought he was living the life of a monk.”

  “But you didn’t know about any specific woman,” Kevin persisted.

  “Nope,” Mick confirmed with a satisfied grin. “So, how serious is it?”

  “Ask Connor.” Kevin’s expression turned sly. “Or aren’t the two of you speaking?”

  �
��Now who’s resorting to guesswork?”

  “I wouldn’t need to, if either one of you would give me a straight answer. Dad, if marrying Mom is going to come between you and Connor, maybe you should rethink it.”

  “You’d have me put my life on hold because any one of you can’t be an adult and accept that I know exactly what I’m doing?” Mick asked incredulously.

  “Look, Mom and I are getting along okay now, but I’ve had time to reconcile the perspective I used to have with the realities of what actually happened back then,” Kevin said, his tone reasonable. “Connor’s not had enough time, plus he’s even more hardheaded than you or I on our bad days. Why not have a spring wedding? Mom can walk along the pathway that’s lined with all those lilies of the valley she planted. It’ll be beautiful.”

  “I am not waiting until spring just so your brother can make peace with this. If he knows he has that kind of power over the two of us, he’ll find some other way to force us to postpone that date. Years could go by while he manipulates the situation. In case you haven’t noticed, neither your mother nor I are getting any younger.”

  “I wouldn’t suggest you use Mom’s advancing age as an excuse for pressing ahead with a New Year’s Eve wedding,” Kevin said with a grin.

  Mick scowled at him. “Of course not. Do you think I’m crazy?”

  “Sometimes you do say things without thinking through the consequences,” Kevin said. “Something tells me that’s what happened with Connor.” He studied Mick intently. “Is that it, Dad? Did you back him into a corner?”

  “We’ll work it out,” Mick said. “That’s what O’Briens do. We work things out.”

  “Unless those things you’re talking about happen to be between you and Uncle Jeff or you and Uncle Thomas,” Kevin said knowingly. “How many years have the three of you been at odds? The only thing you and Thomas have managed to agree on is that Shanna and I belong together.”

  “Whole different story,” Mick insisted. He heard the bell over the store’s front door ring, spotted Daisy Monroe coming inside with her pet poodle clutched in her arms and seized on the excuse. “You have a customer. Take care of her. I’m going home.”