An O’Brien Family Christmas

by Sherryl Woods

  While Matthew took in their surroundings, he noted that his brother’s gaze had followed Moira.

  “Charming girl,” Luke said and actually seemed to mean it.

  Dillon merely shook his head. “My granddaughter, Moira. She’s not happy about being here. In fact, as near as I can tell, she’s not happy about anything these days. Either that or she’s simply intent on seeing the rest of us miserable.”

  “Perhaps I can coax her out of her mood,” Luke offered eagerly.

  He handed his coat to Matthew, then went off in the direction Moira had taken, disappearing into what was apparently a living room with a large Christmas tree that twinkled with white lights and more decorations than Matthew had ever seen before. For a widower Dillon had taken great care with seeing that his home was festive. Matthew couldn’t help wondering if that was for his grandmother’s benefit, or just family tradition.

  Dillon’s troubled gaze followed Luke. “I don’t hold out much hope for his success with cheering my granddaughter.”

  “Oh, Luke has a way with women,” Matthew assured him. “Moira seems to present exactly the sort of challenge he’s been missing on this trip.”

  “Has anyone else arrived?” Laila asked.

  “Only Nell’s here so far. She’s in the kitchen trying to give my daughter, Kiera, a few pointers on entertaining a crowd of this size.” He shook his head, his expression gloomy. “That’s not going so well, either.”

  Laila laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. Matthew, are you coming with me?”

  “Maybe I should check on Luke.”

  “Has your brother ever wanted or needed your help with a woman?” she asked.

  “You have a point. Dillon, what else can I do?”

  “You can help me get the bar ready, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  Matthew nodded. “I’d be happy to.”

  Matthew cast a look after Laila as she went in the direction Dillon had pointed out to her, then turned to their host. “It was very generous of you to invite all of us to your home. Are you sure it was a good idea?”

  Dillon laughed. “I knew it would make Nell happy, and I wanted her to meet my family. I swear, though, they seem intent on making yours look downright welcoming by comparison. Moira’s sullen, Kiera’s rude and my grandsons have taken off for who knows where. Quite likely the pub down the street. I have no idea what Nell must think of us.”

  “No one understands twisted family dynamics better than the O’Briens,” Matthew said, taking pity on him. “Gram won’t hold their behavior against you.” He gave the older man a sly look. “She seems quite taken with you.”

  Dillon regarded him with amusement. “Are you asking whether my intentions are honorable, young man?”

  Matthew shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of practice at that sort of thing, but I suppose I am.”

  “My intentions were honorable enough to suit Nell’s grandfather when he allowed me to see her all those years ago, and they are now.”

  “But you live in Dublin and Gram’s life is across the ocean now,” Matthew reminded him. “How do you intend to work that out?”

  “You’re a step or two ahead of us,” Dillon said. “But if decisions need to be made, I assure you your grandmother and I are capable of making the ones that are right for us.”

  Matthew understood that Dillon was warning him off, but he couldn’t help asking, “But you do foresee some kind of a future with her?”

  Dillon smiled. “Some kind? Yes. It could be nothing more than a rekindled friendship with shared memories, or something more. As I said before, Matthew, we haven’t defined it, haven’t even discussed it for that matter. We’re content to be living in the moment. There’s a lesson to be had in that, I think.”

  “And here all I can think about is the future,” Matthew countered.

  “Because you’re young enough to have a long, open road spread out ahead of you,” Dillon said mildly. “Nell and I are at the end of ours. Neither of us knows what tomorrow could bring. Today is what we have. We’ll make the very best of it.”

  He held Matthew’s gaze with a directness Matthew couldn’t help appreciating, then added, “And we’ll do it thoughtfully.”

  Matthew smiled at his clear-eyed view of the situation and the carefully disguised hint of censure in his voice.

  “For whatever it’s worth, you have my blessing,” he told Dillon. “You still have a sales job to do with my uncle Mick.”

  “Believe me, I’m well aware that he’s going to be a hard sell,” Dillon told him. “But when it comes down to it, Nell’s approval is the one that counts the most. If I can make her truly happy, then I trust that she raised the kind of family that will be glad for her.”

  They’d just managed to put the bottles of wine and whiskey out, along with an impressive variety of obviously expensive crystal glasses, when Moira came storming past, a scowl on her face.

  “That man is impossible,” she declared, grabbing a coat off a peg in the hallway. “I’m out of here.”

  “To go where?” Dillon demanded.

  “Anywhere he isn’t,” she said, her heated gaze warning Luke to stay behind. The door slammed behind her.

  “That obviously went well,” Matthew said, laughing.

  Luke had the genuinely bewildered look of a man not used to rejection. “I think she actually hates me,” he said.

  Dillon’s laughter joined Matthew’s. “Son, she hasn’t singled you out. Our Moira hates everyone today, and I’ve no idea why.”

  Luke’s expression turned determined. “Well, I intend to find out.”

  Matthew moved to stop him. “Don’t you think you should stay out of it? The two of you have barely met and it hasn’t gone well so far. Besides, the rest of the family will be here soon.”

  “Oh, I’ll be back before dinner’s served,” Luke said, sounding grimly sure of himself. He gave Dillon a weak smile. “Hopefully in one piece and with Moira in tow.”

  “I wish you luck,” Dillon said, then watched him leave. “Is he the kind of man who needs a bit of challenge in his life?” he asked Matthew.

  “Seems that way. He hasn’t had nearly enough of them.”

  “Well, if that’s what he’s after, he’ll not do better than Moira. She’s been turning her mother’s hair gray for years, and I’ve considered tearing mine out over her.”

  Matthew chuckled. “Then they’re well suited,” Matthew assured him.

  It was already turning out to be quite an eventful evening, and Mick had yet to put in an appearance.

  11

  Nell thought she’d been demonstrating great restraint with Kiera. Because Kiera was Dillon’s daughter and this had once been her home, Nell took deliberate care not to lay claim to the kitchen and take over the dinner preparations. Her efforts at diplomacy were wasted.

  She told herself Kiera’s obvious resentment of every carefully phrased suggestion was understandable. She’d come here expecting a traditional family holiday, and now she was about to be surrounded by strangers, one of whom shared a past with her father. It must be terribly disconcerting to discover her father had a history with someone other than her mother, a history she’d not even known about. Nell understood because Mick, Thomas and Jeff were struggling with the same knowledge in their own ways.

  “I’m sorry that tonight’s dinner has overburdened you,” she said, trying yet again to reach out to the unhappily divorced woman who was only in her late forties, but looked older. “I’m willing to help with whatever needs to be done.”

  “It’s my father’s house,” Kiera responded ungraciously. “He can invite anyone he likes here.”

  “But you’d been expecting a family holiday, I’m sure. And now you’ve all these visitors descending on you.”

  Kiera was silent for a moment, then admitted, “To be honest, it takes some of the pressure off, you know. My father and I haven’t always been close. We reconciled for my mother’s sake before she died.” She gave Nell a resigned look. “I ima
gine he told you that. It’s his way of letting people know not to expect a joyous family gathering.”

  “He mentioned there had been some distance between you at one time,” Nell admitted. “He believes you’re closer now. At least, he wants that to be true.”

  Kiera shrugged. “If the occasional holiday meal counts, then we are, but we’ll never be the traditional warm and fuzzy family.”

  Nell laughed. “Few families are, at least all of the time. Believe me, we’ve had our differences in mine. My sons, who’ll be here tonight, were barely speaking for years. The holiday meals, which I insisted we all share, and the Sunday dinners were quite tense.”

  Kiera looked vaguely intrigued by that. “Then why bother? Would it not have been less stressful to leave them be?”

  “Less stressful, of course,” Nell agreed. “But in the end, family is the most important thing we have. These are the people with whom we share a history, the ones who’ll be there when needed without question.”

  “Seriously?” Kiera said. “That seems to me to put an optimistic spin on things. My father wasn’t always there for me.”

  “Did you give him the opportunity?” Nell asked gently. “Most of us won’t go where we’re unwelcome, family or not. Most of us can only have the door slammed in our faces so many times before we give up.”

  Kiera sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I did shut him out—literally and figuratively—more than once.”

  “But that door is open now,” Nell pointed out. “Make whatever effort it requires to keep it that way. I know it’s what your father wants. His whole face lights up when he talks of you and your children.”

  Kiera gave her a rueful look. “Even Moira? There are days when even I don’t like her much. I should be ashamed to say such a thing about my own child, but it’s true.”

  Nell laughed. “She’ll grow out of it. You did, didn’t you?”

  After a startled pause, Kiera laughed. “You’re not the first to draw the comparison, and it’s true. I suppose I did.” She looked around the kitchen, which was littered with boxes of food left by a caterer. She appeared surprisingly daunted.

  “I’ve no idea what to do with this,” she confided. “I’ve never managed a meal for so many before, not even when the cooking has been done by someone else.”

  “Do you have serving dishes?” Nell inquired, seeing an opening to take charge as she’d been longing to do.

  “Cupboards full of them,” Kiera told her.

  “Okay, then,” Nell said decisively. “We’ll need several platters, a half dozen large bowls.”

  “Now, those I can find,” Kiera said, obviously relieved to have someone knowledgeable take over.

  They worked in companionable silence transferring the abundance of food to serving dishes. When Laila joined them, they started carrying everything into the dining room to a buffet table that had been set up along one wall. Fine china and silver had been laid out at one end and the long table had been covered with an exquisite antique cloth trimmed in Irish lace. Candles of every size lit the room with a soft glow.

  “It’s going to be lovely in here,” Nell said appreciatively. “There will be room enough for all of us with some to spare.”

  “When I was small, my parents had dinner parties often,” Kiera said, her expression suddenly nostalgic. “I used to sit on the stairs and listen to all the talk and laughter drifting out of this room and wonder what it would be like to host such a party.”

  Nell patted her arm. “Well, now you know. It’s a bit chaotic, but the result will be well worth it. The key to successful entertaining is not allowing yourself to be intimidated. Take a deep, calming breath before the guests arrive.”

  Kiera gave her a pointed look. “Too late for that. Some of you are already here.”

  Nell chuckled. “Ah, but you’ve made me and Laila your helpers now. You’ve the two of us as backup.”

  “But I’ve done none of the cooking,” Kiera said, looking over the steaming food.

  “You’ve created a welcoming atmosphere,” Nell corrected. “The food is secondary.”

  She noticed Laila gave her a surprised look and knew she was thinking of what a point Nell made at home to provide home-cooked meals for these family celebrations. At her warning glance, though, Laila said nothing.

  Nell listened to the sounds of conversation and even the occasional laugh coming from the living room. “It seems peaceful enough in there. Shall we get everyone in here for the meal before there’s trouble?”

  Kiera regarded her curiously. “What sort of trouble?”

  “My sons aren’t sure they approve of me spending time with your father. One of them is particularly outspoken about it, though I’ve warned him to mind his manners tonight.”

  Kiera uttered a genuine, unfettered laugh for the first time since they’d met. “Then it truly isn’t just my father and me who’ve difficulties from time to time. I thought perhaps you were saying those things before just to be kind.”

  “Oh, no,” Nell assured her. “You’ll see for yourself before the night is over, I’m sure.”

  “Then this is an evening I can look forward to, after all,” Kiera said. “Now, if only my Moira doesn’t spoil it with another of her rebellions.”

  Laila gave her a sympathetic look. “I doubt you need to worry about that. Nell’s grandson has that situation in hand.”

  Nell regarded Laila with surprise, quickly deducing which grandson was likely to have taken on Kiera’s troublesome daughter. She’d seen for herself just how beautiful Moira was.

  “Luke, I imagine,” she said, knowing he was the one who would have been unable to resist such a challenge.

  Laila nodded. “Of course.”

  Nell smiled. That was a turn of events she definitely hadn’t anticipated, but she couldn’t deny it was a welcome one. She’d worried about Luke for a while now, seen how restless and unhappy he was now that everyone else seemed to be settled—or nearly so, she amended, thinking of Matthew and Laila.

  Though she’d been scandalized when Luke had brought Mack’s ex-girlfriend, Kristen Lewis, into Mick’s home, she’d never once voiced an objection. Still, she’d seen it for the trouble it was likely to cause. Susie would never make peace with having that woman as a member of the family. No amount of time or mediation was likely to change that.

  She recalled her two-minute introduction to the challenging Moira and thought there was just the right amount of fire there to keep Luke fascinated, perhaps even enough to distract him from the problematic Kristen.

  “Kiera, why don’t I go with you to make the introductions to my family,” Nell suggested. “Laila, you go ahead and remind them to be civilized.”

  Laila chuckled. “Now, what are the odds of my word meaning a thing?”

  Nell laughed with her. “Then you’ll see that Matthew behaves. I’ll handle the rest.”

  And she would keep a close eye on Luke and Moira while she was at it. Wouldn’t it be a lovely thing to leave Ireland with both of her grandsons’ futures assured?

  Laila closed her eyes and settled against Matthew’s side on the taxi ride back to the hotel, his arm around her shoulders.

  “It turned out to be a wonderful evening, after all, didn’t it?” she murmured. “Nell has a way of putting people at ease and keeping the conversation flowing. Even Mick eventually relaxed and stopped his scowling.”

  “Don’t think he’s been won over just yet,” Matthew warned. “I heard talk of him hiring a private investigator.”

  “Not to look into Dillon’s background?” Laila said, sitting up to give him a shocked look. “Surely Mick no longer thinks Dillon is some sort of schemer where Nell’s concerned.”

  “Oh, no,” Matthew said, a smile on his lips. “Now he’s convinced the man is living on some kind of ill-gotten gains.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Laila said. “I know he’s just being protective, but isn’t that a little far-fetched?”

  “I’d say so,” Matt
hew agreed, then regarded her thoughtfully. “Is it really so different from the way your father looks at me, as if I’m about to ruin his daughter’s life?”

  “Totally different circumstances,” Laila insisted.

  “Is it really?”

  “Matthew, he’s not really worried about me,” she said with conviction. “He’s worried only about his precious bank’s reputation.”

  “I’m just saying that, perhaps in his mind, it’s the same thing.”

  She regarded Matthew curiously. “Why are you suggesting this now?”

  “Listening to Mick tonight gave me a different perspective on protectiveness, for one thing,” he said. “For another, I still hate being the cause of this rift between you and your parents. I’d be happy to find a new spin that might allow you to make peace with them. I don’t want to be the reason they’re not in your life.”

  “It’s not up to you to broker peace,” Laila said. “I doubt it’s even possible. I think things have gone too far this time.”

  “You still breathing?” Matthew inquired.

  She studied him with a furrowed gaze. “What’s your point?”

  “As long as you’re all still here on earth, there’s always a way to fix things.” His expression sobered. “Don’t wait too long, Laila. It will only get harder and harder to swallow your pride.”

  “I’ve no intention of swallowing my pride,” she said, knowing she sounded as stubborn as any O’Brien. “I’ve done it my whole life, tried to mold myself into the daughter my father would respect. No more. Let him swallow his this time.”

  “Didn’t he do that by calling?” Matthew suggested.

  She sighed at the memory of that terse message. There was no denying it had been an overture, particularly when combined with Trace’s revelation that her father was having second thoughts about letting her go from the bank.

  “I suppose,” she conceded reluctantly.

  “Maybe you should call him. It’ll be Christmas day after tomorrow. I’m sure your parents would love to hear from you. I imagine it’s the greatest gift you could give them this holiday season.”