A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

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A Chesapeake Shores Christmas Page 18

by Sherryl Woods


  “We did it with the best of intentions,” he reminded her.

  She sighed. “I do know that, and it’s the only reason I didn’t head straight back to New York first thing this morning.”

  “Then you’ll accept the loan?”

  She leveled a look into his eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

  “But—”

  “Leave it alone, Mick.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, but he didn’t look one bit happy about it.

  * * *

  Despite her determined stance when it came to taking the baby to see Heather whenever she was requested to do so, when Heather called on the morning of Christmas Eve, Megan called Connor at work.

  “I want you to know that Heather’s asked to see the baby today and I’m driving him over there now,” she told him. “I just wanted you to know so you wouldn’t accuse me of going behind your back again.”

  “I know I should be grateful for that much, but is there any way I can persuade you to let me meet you there? Mom, Heather and I need to talk.”

  “I know that,” she said. “But once again she specifically asked me not to tell you where she is. I am going to try to persuade her to spend Christmas with us tomorrow. Don’t count on it, though.”

  “Believe me, if I were in her shoes, I’d turn down that invitation, too,” Connor said wryly.

  “Why?”

  “Too much pressure. It’s best if we see each other without an audience.”

  “I suppose I can understand that. I just thought that perhaps Christmas would be the perfect time for a reconciliation. Besides, she shouldn’t be all alone on a holiday.”

  “I’m not suggesting that you shouldn’t try to coax her into coming. I’m just saying I get why she probably won’t.” He hesitated. “I’d be willing to take the baby and spend the day with her, though. Tell her that, okay? Just the three of us, wherever she wants. It doesn’t even have to be where she’s staying, so I still won’t know where to find her.”

  Megan heard the vulnerable note in his voice and knew how much it would mean to him to be with his makeshift family on the holiday. “I’ll do my best,” she said. “I promise.”

  But when she made the offer to Heather an hour later, Heather turned her down flat.

  “I know you mean well, and I want to see Connor, but I can’t do it. Not even if it means not seeing my baby on his first Christmas.” There was no mistaking the sorrow and disappointment in her eyes when she said it. Then she brightened and pulled a brightly wrapped package from a bag beside her.

  “Look, sweet boy,” she whispered. “Look what Mommy bought for you for Christmas.”

  The baby grabbed onto the ribbon and tugged. Heather helped him with the wrapping paper, then grinned when he refused to be diverted from playing with the ribbon.

  “I guess what they say is true,” she said. “When they’re this little, they really don’t care about what’s inside the box.”

  Megan laughed. “He will when he finally sees it,” she said. She’d seen how much her own children had loved the oversize ball with all the different shaped pieces that could be dropped into the appropriate holes. They’d played with it for hours, brows furrowed until they fit each piece into the right slot, then clamored for her to dump them out again. Of course, they’d been a bit older than little Mick before they’d totally grasped the concept. Until then, they’d just liked throwing the bright plastic shapes on the floor, then crying till she or Mick had picked them up.

  Megan eventually glanced at her watch. “Heather, I hate to do this, but I need to get back to help Nell with tonight’s dinner, and then we all have to get ready for church.”

  Heather’s expression was so woebegone that Megan almost relented and stayed longer.

  “Maybe a few more minutes,” she said at last.

  Heather shook her head. “No, I don’t want you to have to drive home after dark. They’re saying we could get snow tonight.” Her expression brightened. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a white Christmas?” She touched the baby’s cheek. “He’s never seen snow before. I wish I could be there for that and to see him tomorrow morning when he sees the tree and all the presents.”

  “Sweetie, you can be there for all of that. I can convince Connor to declare a truce for the holiday. You won’t have to discuss anything that’s going on just for tomorrow.”

  “I wish it could be that easy,” Heather said. “I know Connor, though. No matter what promises he makes, he’ll insist on pushing the issue and we’ll wind up fighting. I don’t want my son’s first Christmas to be ruined by having his parents creating a scene.”

  “Trust me, the O’Briens have seen more than their share of scenes through the years,” Megan told her.

  “But my baby hasn’t, and I want it to stay that way. He might be too young to understand what’s going on, but he’ll sense the tension.”

  Megan understood her decision. On one level, she even agreed with it, but it reminded her of too many Christmases when she’d avoided her family solely to keep the peace. She’d lived to regret it.

  “I hope you won’t regret this someday,” she told Heather. “Christmas is the perfect time to heal wounds and look for miracles. If you won’t come to us, how about going to visit your family?”

  Heather shook her head, a look of sorrow washing over her face. “Not an option. They don’t approve of any of the decisions I’ve made since Connor and I moved in together. If I show up without the baby and without a ring on my finger, it’ll just be one long day of I-told-you-so. I can’t deal with that now.”

  Megan gave Heather a hug. “If you change your mind, there’s always room for one more at our table.”

  When she released the young woman, there were tears in Heather’s eyes. “I wish my mother was half as understanding as you are.”

  “It’s only because I’ve been where you are,” Megan told her. “I left my children for someone else to raise.” She tucked a finger under Heather’s chin and met her gaze. “And regretted it every day since. Promise me you’ll think about that while you’re deciding what to do next.”

  Heather nodded.

  “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

  Again, Heather blinked back tears. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered, then pressed a kiss to her son’s forehead. “You, too, little one. Mommy loves you more than anything.”

  As Megan drove away, she couldn’t think of a sadder image than the one she had of Heather in her rearview mirror, shoulders slumped, cheeks damp with tears as she raised her hand in a final wave as the car turned the corner.

  Somehow, someway she had to bring this family back together. She just wished she had the first clue about how to pull that off.

  14

  When Megan arrived back in Chesapeake Shores, she found Connor on the porch watching for her, even though there was a bitter cold breeze off the bay.

  “You should be inside,” she scolded when he’d crossed the yard to the car. “You’ll catch pneumonia in this weather.”

  “I’m fine,” he insisted as he removed little Mick from his car seat and held him as if he’d feared not seeing him again.

  Megan studied him with concern. “Connor, are you okay?”

  “Fine,” he said tersely, then sighed. “I guess I was a little worried.”

  “About what?”

  “That you might get all sentimental because it’s Christmas Eve and leave the baby with Heather.”

  Megan saw the genuine relief in his eyes and was glad she hadn’t made that decision, hadn’t even considered it, in fact. “Connor, I might empathize with Heather, but I wouldn’t have done something like that to you.”

  “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  His surprise made her incredibly sad for the second time that afternoon. �
�You’re my son. I love you. I only want what’s best for you and your son. And, so you know, Heather never asked me to consider leaving the baby with her. This is where she wants him to be for now.”

  “But you couldn’t persuade her to come back here with you, could you? Not even to spend Christmas Day?”

  She shook her head. “She was afraid you two would wind up arguing and it would ruin the holiday.”

  As they walked inside together, Connor turned and gave her a plaintive look. “You’ve seen Heather twice now. I’m guessing you’ve talked about more than the baby. Do you think we’re ever going to work this out?”

  “I suppose it depends on how much each of you is willing to compromise,” she told him. She hesitated, then met his gaze. “We could talk about what you really want, how you see your future. Maybe I could help you see things more clearly.”

  She could see he was about to refuse, so she quickly added, “Or you could talk and I could just listen. No advice unless it’s asked for.”

  Connor smiled at that. “Do you have any idea how many times you made that promise to me when I was a kid? You’d lure me in with that promise and Gram’s cookies, and the next thing you knew, I’d be blabbing away.” He met her gaze, but for once there was no animosity in his expression, just a faint hint of nostalgia. “And you never did keep your end of the bargain. You always had an opinion.”

  “No,” she corrected, laughing. “I always had sage advice, which I only offered after you asked for it.”

  “That is not how I remember it,” he insisted, then sighed. “But I have to admit it was always good advice.”

  “Then maybe we could talk a little now,” she said hopefully.

  Still, he hesitated. “I have to get the baby down for a nap if he’s going to make it through the church service later without fussing.”

  “That’ll give me just enough time to make the hot chocolate and put out a plate of cookies,” she told him. She hated begging, but she felt as if they were so close to reconnecting. She didn’t want to blow this opportunity. “Please, Connor. I’ve missed those talks of ours.” She felt the tug of a smile on her lips. “I’ve even missed the arguing. You were always very good at making your case. I should have known then that you’d be an outstanding attorney.”

  “And you were always just as good at sticking to your guns when I was trying to talk you into letting me do something you didn’t approve of.”

  “I really want us to be able to communicate like that again,” she told him.

  She waited for what felt like an eternity before he responded.

  “Extra marshmallows in the hot chocolate?” he asked.

  She beamed at him. “Is there any other way?”

  * * *

  Mick had seen Megan drive up, then seen Connor rush out to meet her. When he saw his son take the baby upstairs, he walked into the kitchen and found Megan at the stove.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  When she turned around, she had the brightest smile he’d seen in a while on her face.

  “Connor and I are going to have a heart-to-heart chat,” she said excitedly. “Oh, Mick, this could be the breakthrough I’ve been hoping for.”

  As happy as he was about the news and the promise it held, he worried that she was setting herself up for disappointment. “Maybe I should stick around to mediate just in case.”

  “Just in case of what?” she demanded. “It’s a mother and son talking to each other like two adults. We’ll be fine.”

  “It’s a mother putting a lot on the line to talk to a son who isn’t always reasonable,” he corrected. “I just don’t want him showing any disrespect to you.”

  “I can handle whatever he has to say,” she insisted. “Besides, it’s not going to be about us. Not really. We’re going to talk about Heather and their future.”

  Mick didn’t even attempt to hide his surprise. “I hope you can get it through that thick skull of his that he needs to marry that woman.”

  Megan gave him a wry look. “You haven’t even met her. How do you know marriage would be the right decision for either one of them?”

  “She’s the mother of his child. That’s all I need to know.”

  “Well, I don’t intend to tell him what to do. I plan to listen. Now go away before you ruin everything.”

  “On one condition,” Mick said, still reluctant to leave. “You and I sit down later and make some decisions of our own.”

  She didn’t pretend not to understand. “We’ll talk,” she agreed, pushing him toward the door as they heard Connor approach. “Now go.”

  Connor gave him a puzzled look as he backed out of the kitchen. “Going somewhere?” he asked Mick.

  “Your mother says I am,” Mick said, disgruntled.

  Connor grinned. “All these years and you still can’t handle her,” he commented. “I think I’m beginning to see why you love her.”

  Mick scowled at him. “My relationship with your mother is none of your concern. Just see that you behave in here. She’s got her hopes set on the two of you having some kind of breakthrough conversation. Don’t let her down.”

  Connor sobered. “Dad, I can’t promise—”

  “Do not let her down,” Mick repeated.

  He had a hunch his own future might be depending on it.

  * * *

  How many times had she sat in this very kitchen, biting her tongue and willing her younger son to open up to her? As a boy, Connor had hidden his feelings behind the carefree facade that fooled them all. Now, as she waited for the young man to talk, she could see signs of all those childhood insecurities that lurked just below the confident show he put on.

  Because he seemed content to sip his hot chocolate and break off chunks of cookies, she finally broke the ice.

  “Heather loves you, you know.”

  Her words lit up his face for a heartbeat before he quickly covered the reaction with an indifferent shrug. “She has a funny way of showing it.”

  “Actually she’s showing it the same way I did when I left your father. I loved him beyond all reason, despite the way he’d neglected all of us by running off on one business trip after another. In a twisted way, I thought I was giving him his freedom to do the work that he loved without the guilt of coming home to an increasingly unhappy wife.”

  Connor looked perplexed by the comment. “I don’t get it.”

  “For the longest time, I thought it was easy for him to walk away from us, that he loved his work more than us. I finally realized it wasn’t like that at all. He thought he needed to do more and more jobs to succeed for us. It dawned on me he thought we expected that from him, when all we really wanted, all I really wanted, was for him to be home more. And whenever I tried to tell him any of that, somehow I just added to the pressure he was under.”

  “Okay, so it’s sort of like the O. Henry story,” Connor concluded. “You left to take away the pressure on Dad. He worked harder to provide for us. Wouldn’t a conversation have fixed everything? He’d have known you didn’t care about the material things. You’d have known he loved us more than work.”

  She grinned at the simplification. “You’re right. Solutions always start with honest communication. Unfortunately, I’d spent too many years trying to tell your father what he wanted to hear, or what I thought he wanted to hear. It muddied the waters.”

  “And you think this somehow applies to me and Heather?”

  She nodded. “I know it does. You’ve said so many times how you feel about marriage that she left so you wouldn’t feel pressured by her desire to have a real family with you.”

  “I do feel strongly about marriages not working,” he said. “I see the proof on a daily basis. Am I supposed to ignore that?”

  Megan thought carefully before responding. “Connor, you
should never ignore what you truly believe. Those beliefs make you who you are. However, sometimes we get so caught up in principles and values and beliefs that we ignore the most important thing of all.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How we feel in our heart. If you love this woman, and I believe you do, then you have to find a middle ground that works for both of you.” She met his gaze. “Or you have to love her enough to let her go.”

  Connor regarded her with so much sorrow in his eyes that Megan wanted to hug him fiercely and tell him things would work out, but she didn’t know that they would. It was up to him and to Heather.

  She did risk covering his hand with hers and giving his a squeeze. “It will work out the way it’s supposed to. I believe that.”

  “And you believe that about you and Dad, too?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I always have.”

  “Then marry him, Mom. I won’t stand in your way.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “You act as if I really had a choice,” he said, though a smile took the sting out of his words. “I may be stubborn, but I’m not an idiot. Dad’s not going to rest until he can get you in front of a minister. You seem to make him happy. I may be skeptical about it working out, but who am I to be the roadblock? I’ve at least learned enough to know that people should hold on to happiness when they’ve found it.”

  There was a new maturity in his voice. His words might not carry the weight of conviction, but they meant the world to her just the same. “We can wait until you’re completely reconciled to this,” she reminded him.

  “I may never be completely reconciled,” he admitted. “But I’m not going to stand in your way. You have my blessing.” He grinned at her. “Now go tell Dad, in case he hasn’t managed to hear every word we’ve said. I suspect he’s outside the door twisting himself into knots trying to eavesdrop.”

  “If he is, then he should have to wait a little longer before he hears my decision,” Megan said. “It’s Christmas Eve and Nell is probably champing at the bit to get in here and get dinner on the table before we go to church.”

 

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