An O’Brien Family Christmas

by Sherryl Woods

  “Says who?”

  “I say it,” Laila told her, holding her friend’s gaze with a steady look.

  Jess clearly didn’t believe her. And Laila was having a hard time convincing herself. She knew, though, that she had to. It was the only way she’d ever be able to move on with her life.

  “So help me, Matthew O’Brien, if you don’t make things right with Laila, I will never forgive you,” Susie declared, standing over her brother’s desk and glowering at him.

  Matthew glowered right back. “Not at work, Susie,” he warned. “We’re not discussing my personal life here. I mean it.”

  Naturally, she ignored him. “I will not have this honeymoon trip ruined, to say nothing of how terrible Gram will feel if you’re moping around Ireland missing Laila.”

  “I won’t mope. I promise.”

  She merely scowled at the offer. He sighed.

  “Isn’t it enough for you that you have a clean bill of health from the doctor, and that your marriage to Mack is solid?” Matthew asked her plaintively. “Do you really need to meddle in my life, too?”

  “Actually this isn’t about you. It’s about me and my happiness. I want Gram’s trip to Ireland to be perfect, and it won’t be if the entire family—the entire extended family—isn’t there.”

  He pushed aside the architectural rendering he was supposed to have finished days ago. Lately his concentration was shot. He met his sister’s gaze.

  “Look, nobody wants Laila in Ireland more than I do,” he admitted. “I’d planned to ask her to marry me there on Christmas Eve, if you’ll recall. That’s no longer in the cards, obviously, since she won’t even speak to me. If I try to talk her into going, she’ll turn me down flat. If her presence is so critical, put somebody else on the case.”

  “I’ve already sent Jess,” Susie admitted. “No luck.”

  “What about Trace? Surely her brother can talk some sense into her.”

  “She’s not speaking to him at all. She’s lumped him in with her parents. They’re all the enemy right now. She wouldn’t even return Abby’s calls, and those were about work. She’s cut herself off from practically everyone.” She regarded him earnestly. “I’m worried about her, Matthew. If you really care about her, you should be, too.”

  Matthew groaned, knowing he was at least in part responsible for Laila’s isolation. “How did this turn into such a huge mess?”

  Susie didn’t hesitate. “Because the two of you kept everyone in the dark about your relationship,” she said readily, always eager to enumerate his many flaws as she saw them. “You snuck around town for who knows how long like a couple of criminals. It left everyone to conclude that even you knew that your dating was somehow wrong. It made it seem as if this were just another stupid fling for you and that Laila was ashamed of being another one of your conquests. If you’d been open about it in the first place—”

  “I wanted things out in the open,” he snapped. “Laila thought it was a bad idea. Seems to me she was right. The minute her stodgy parents got wind of what was going on, all hell broke loose.”

  “Whatever,” Susie said, not one bit swayed by truth or logic. “You’re the only one who can get through to her now. Apologize, grovel, beg, heap on a boatload of guilt about how the trip won’t be the same without her, whatever you need to do. Just don’t take no for an answer. You have to get her to come to Ireland. You got her into your bed, which, given how sensible she usually is, had to take some smooth talking. Surely you can convince her to go on a family vacation.”

  “The only way I’m likely to pull it off would be to tell her I’m staying home,” he said realistically.

  “Not an option,” Susie declared. “Find another way. I mean it, Matthew. You love her. She loves you. This standoff has to end.” She leveled a look into his eyes. “I expect you to handle it. Do not let me down.”

  With that she flounced out of his office. He stared after her, wondering when she’d turned into such a demanding woman, sure of her convictions. It probably had a lot to do with the grit and determination she’d found to fight ovarian cancer, to survive it against all odds. Nothing much scared her anymore, certainly not her brother.

  A few months ago he’d have said he shared his sister’s intrepid, determined nature. In the face of Laila’s uncompromising rejection, in the wake of her stubborn stance that they were destined to ruin each other’s lives, he was no longer half so sure of himself. He’d thought they could weather the fallout from people finding out about their relationship, but they hadn’t. Laila hadn’t even wanted to try. She’d barely stuck it out a few weeks before calling it quits.

  He’d found her attitude annoying, insulting and demeaning. It trivialized what they had, in his opinion. What he hadn’t been able to figure out was why he loved her anyway.

  Still, he had his pride. Groveling, apologizing, begging, all those things his sister had recommended were out of the question. He’d put his heart on the line. He’d made his case. More than once, in fact. If that hadn’t been enough, then why would he go back for more ego bashing?

  Besides, being in Ireland with Laila, knowing that he’d intended to make it the most romantic holiday of their lives, that he’d planned to propose to her there on Christmas Eve…it would be torture, and he was no masochist. This was Susie’s trip. If she wanted Laila along, then she was going to have to find some way to convince her to go.

  And if she did? Well, he’d worry about that only if Susie managed to pull off some sort of holiday miracle.

  “Well?” Nell O’Brien demanded as she sat in her cozy kitchen with two of her precious granddaughters. The Irish-breakfast tea was strong, the blueberry scones fresh from the oven.

  She’d sent Jess and Susie on a personal mission to straighten out this ridiculous standoff between Matthew and Laila, but it was obvious from their troubled expressions that they’d failed.

  “Laila refuses to go,” Jess admitted. “I know she wants to, but she’s as stubborn as any O’Brien.”

  “As for my brother,” Susie said, “he’s actually hurt that she dumped him. As badly as he wants Laila in Ireland with the rest of us, he refuses to do a thing to make sure she goes.” She shook her head. “Men and their stupid pride! Heaven save us.”

  Nell knew exactly what she meant. Her grandchildren had inherited many fine qualities from their parents and from her, but stubbornness wasn’t among them. Unfortunately, they all had it in spades. She supposed it was handy in certain situations, gave them the stick-to-it strength and resolve to weather many tough crises, but most of the time it interfered with their happiness. They’d be far better off with a little more tolerance and a little less bullheadedness.

  “Do the two of you have any ideas?” she asked. “I will not have this family trip ruined because we’re all thinking about the one person who isn’t there.”

  “I don’t think Laila views herself as indispensable,” Jess said. “Or as a member of the family. She’s pretty down on herself and her own judgment these days. And she’s not overly fond of anything O’Brien, either.”

  “She’s down on herself because she fell in love with Matthew?” Nell asked incredulously. “Nonsense! I’ll admit to having a few reservations when I first heard about those two, but she was good for him. Anyone could see that.”

  She thought about her grandson and the changes she’d seen in him after he’d gotten involved with Laila. “She steadied him, made him want to settle down. I think it worked the other way around, as well. Her life needed a little shaking up after growing up with stuffy old Lawrence Riley for a father and trying to meet his old-fashioned expectations. Just his reaction to her relationship with a fine man like Matthew speaks for itself about how out of touch he is. Matthew put some color in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. Lawrence should have been singing his praises for that, not condemning the two of them.”

  She gave her granddaughters a bewildered look. “What kind of man doesn’t put his own daughter’s happiness first
?”

  “I don’t think Mr. Riley thinks much beyond what’s good for the bank,” Jess said. “Look how he coerced Trace into working there, even though anyone could see how miserable he was. He loves being a graphic designer. Thank goodness, he was able to get back to that.”

  “Well, it’s about time Mr. Riley thinks about what’s good for Laila,” Susie said vehemently. “And there’s no question that my brother was very good for her. The first time I saw them together, once I got over the shock, I realized how perfect they were for each other. They complemented each other, just as you said, Gram. Matthew couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and Laila looked like a teenager. She couldn’t stop blushing.” She paused reflectively. “Of course, maybe that had something to do with the wine I kept pushing on her to get her to open up and tell me what was going on.”

  Jess nodded slowly. “So we all agree that Mr. Riley is the real problem here, right?”

  “Looks that way to me,” Susie said.

  “Okay, then,” Jess said. “Do you suppose if Laila’s father changed his mind, maybe gave them his blessing, it would help?”

  Nell shook her head. “That would be like getting a tiger to change his stripes. Lawrence has never admitted to a mistake in his life. He’s all but publicly disowned Laila now. He’s not going to back down.”

  “Maybe Mrs. Riley,” Susie began, but again Nell shook her head.

  “She’s a lovely woman, but she’s always done exactly what her husband expected of her,” Nell said.

  “Then you could talk to him,” Jess suggested. “He’d listen to you. Or maybe Dad.”

  “I don’t think we want Mick in the middle of this,” Nell said quickly. “His meddling generally backfires. Even though things work out eventually, it’s usually in spite of your father, not because of him.”

  “I agree with that,” Susie said. “Uncle Mick’s well-intentioned, but involving him is a bad idea. Surely you can see that, Jess.”

  “Hey, I’m willing to look at any and all options,” Jess argued. “Don’t dismiss Dad just because he drove us a little crazy. He’s one of the few people in town with more power than Lawrence Riley. People respect him, even Mr. Riley. I’ll bet Dad could turn this whole situation around if he said a few words to the right people, persuaded them to talk to Mr. Riley.”

  “True,” Nell said. “But I think this situation calls for more finesse than Mick, bless him, possesses. I suppose it’s up to me.”

  Both of her granddaughters looked relieved.

  “What are you going to do?” Susie asked, her eyes alight with curiosity. “Something sneaky and devious, right?”

  Nell gave her a chiding look. “Sneaky and devious are not traits I condone,” she scolded.

  Both young women simply laughed. Nell shrugged.

  “Well. Not ordinarily,” she said sheepishly. After all, it was pointless to fib when everyone knew she had as many matchmaking tricks up her sleeve as anyone else in the family.

  “What’s it going to be, Gram?” Jess prodded.

  “I’ll have to give that some thought,” Nell murmured, then looked from one beloved granddaughter to the other. “But this O’Brien holiday of ours is going to wind up with someone walking down the aisle, no matter what I have to do to make sure that happens.”

  2

  Laila stood beside the window in her new office at The Inn at Eagle Point and watched the whitecaps on the Chesapeake Bay roll toward shore. She’d only been here a few days, but she knew she’d never tire of that view.

  “Sis?”

  She whirled around at the sound of Trace’s voice, a scowl in place to greet him. “What do you want?”

  “We need to talk,” he said firmly, already stepping into the office and closing the door behind him.

  “I can’t imagine what we could possibly have to discuss. You made your opinion of my relationship with Matthew quite clear. Then you got Mom and Dad all stirred up to boot.” She regarded him accusingly. “We both know how that turned out.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I never expected things to get so far out of hand. I was worried about you, and I thought they had a right to know.” He looked chagrined. “I should have anticipated that Dad would get on his high horse and say something that would force your hand.”

  “Yes, you should have.”

  “Still, quitting was pretty rash and impulsive, Laila.”

  “Here we go,” she muttered.

  “Okay, I’m lecturing,” he admitted. “But don’t you think you should reconsider leaving your job? Maybe try to make peace with Dad? For as far back as I can remember, all you wanted was a chance to take over at the bank for Dad one day.”

  “Well, it’s never going to happen,” she said wearily. “I’ve accepted that. You’re not going to be able to intervene and make it right this time, Trace. Dad obviously doesn’t want me there. He never did, and I handed him the perfect excuse to make it official.”

  “He didn’t fire you,” Trace reminded her. “You quit.”

  “Oh, please,” she protested. “That’s little more than a technicality, under these circumstances. The handwriting was on the wall. You didn’t hear him. He treated me as if I didn’t have a brain in my head, as if my going out with Matthew was the next worse thing to stealing the life savings of little old ladies. What choice did I have? Sooner or later I was going to have to stand up for myself with him. If it hadn’t been over this, something else would have come along.”

  Trace continued to look dismayed. “Laila, be reasonable. That’s in the past. You’re no longer with Matthew. I have that right, don’t I? Just tell Dad that. It would make all the difference.”

  She frowned at him. “Come on, Trace. None of this is really about me and Matthew. Dad wants the prodigal son in that job, not me.”

  “That ship has sailed,” her brother said fiercely. “Dad knows that.”

  She smiled. “You don’t really believe that, do you? How many times since I left has he called you with some crisis only you can resolve? Compare that with the fact that he hasn’t once reached out to me, not personally, not professionally.”

  Trace gave her a rueful look. “Okay, you’re right. He hasn’t given up entirely on luring me back, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to do it. You were meant for that job, Laila. You and I both know that. So does Dad, when he’s not being impossible.”

  She couldn’t deny the truth of that. Ironically, her instinct for numbers, accounting and banking had been honed at her father’s knee, for all the good it had done her. Maybe it was because she had a real aptitude for it. Maybe it was simply because she’d craved his attention and approval. Look where that had gotten her, she thought wryly.

  “Yes, I was perfect for it,” she conceded. “But as far as Dad’s concerned, I’ll never be more than second best. I’m not willing to accept that. I’ve moved on. I’m not beating my head against that particular wall ever again. I can make a good living with accounting.”

  “It’s not about earning a decent wage,” Trace argued. “It’s about doing what you love, what you were destined to do. Don’t settle, Laila.”

  “I’m not settling. I’m accepting the inevitable. If I’d done that years ago, my life would have been far less frustrating.”

  Trace frowned. “You’re sure about this?”

  “A hundred percent,” she said with what she hoped sounded like total conviction.

  “If you say so,” he said skeptically. “And it really is over with Matthew?”

  “It really is. You can rest easy. Your sister is no longer interested in disgracing the family name.”

  Her response seemed to make him unhappy. “It wasn’t about me or the family name,” he said with obvious frustration. “How could you even think that? I just didn’t want Matthew messing with your head.”

  “Well, he’s not messing with any part of me now. You should be thrilled.”

  He winced. “You’ll find the right guy,” he said, seeking to reassure her. “I
could ask Abby—”

  “Don’t you dare!” she ordered, horrified. “I do not want your wife parading a bunch of men in front of me.”

  “It was just a thought,” he said defensively. “I feel as if it’s my fault you’re miserable.”

  “I’m not miserable,” she insisted. “I’m in transition.” She was pleased with the word. It described exactly where she was in her life, somewhere between the happiness she’d never expected and the uncertain future that was somewhere around the corner.

  Trace stood up, apparently satisfied. “We’re good, then?”

  She sighed and crossed the room. For all of his annoying flaws, he was a good brother. One of the best. “Of course we’re good,” she said, hugging him fiercely. “Just try to remember you’re a Riley, not an O’Brien. Meddling doesn’t come naturally to you. You made a real mess of it this time.”

  “Again, very, very sorry,” he said contritely, a twinkle back in his eyes. At her skeptical look, he said, “Okay, at least a little bit sorry. I think you can do way better than Matthew.”

  “You probably ought to leave before I feel compelled to argue with you about that,” she responded.

  “Love you.”

  “You, too,” she said, watching as he left.

  From the window moments later, she could see him crossing the inn’s lawn and heading down to the beach to walk along the shore to the home he’d bought for himself, Abby and his twin stepdaughters. He was whistling, obviously pleased that the visit with Laila had been a success, that their relationship had been mended, if not hers with their father.

  She shook her head. She knew her brother loved her, knew he wanted her to be happy, but he didn’t have even the tiniest bit of insight about what it would take to make that happen. If he had, he’d have understood that her best chance at happiness was with the man of whom he’d so vocally disapproved. Not that she intended to admit such a thing to Trace or anyone else. She could barely even admit it to herself.