The Summer Garden

by Sherryl Woods

  “Oh, I think you can count on it. And the Irish music you’re planning will be a huge draw for the community and the surrounding area. If St. Patrick’s Day is any indication, the world is populated with people who are either Irish or wish they were. They’ll be your regular customers.”

  Luke smiled at him. “I know Mum put you up to it, but thank you for coming over here and saying all this. It’s just the boost I needed to calm my nerves.”

  “Would you like me to repeat it on opening day?” Jeff offered.

  Laughing, Luke shook his head. “Now that’s a day I think it will take more than kind words to calm me down. I can’t wait, though. I still have a long to-do list, but Moira swears we’ll be ready. I’m trusting her judgment on that.”

  His father gave him an awkward hug. “You need anything at all, give me a call. The same with the rest of the family. We can pitch in on anything, large or small, okay?”

  “I know that, Dad. It’s the best part of being an O’Brien.”

  Moira had heard Jeff’s voice when she arrived at the pub in the morning, so she went around the corner to Sally’s for a cup of coffee to give Luke some privacy with his father. She knew things were often contentious between them. She also understood from living with her grandfather that the best way to solve that was through spending time together.

  She’d been seated for barely a minute when Bree appeared and slid into the booth opposite her.

  “Did Luke apologize?” she asked Moira at once.

  Moira stared at her. “How did you know about Luke needing to apologize? Was it the infamous O’Brien grapevine?”

  “No, I got this straight from the horse’s mouth,” Bree said with a grin. “Luke called asking for my help with flowers.”

  Understanding dawned. “And you’re the one who told him to sneak into Nell’s garden?”

  “I did,” Bree said proudly. “I thought it was inspired. Did it work?”

  “Actually, I forgave him before he had to risk Nell’s wrath.”

  Bree immediately looked disappointed. “Now what fun is that?”

  Moira regarded her with amazement. “You wanted him to get caught?”

  “Well, sure,” Bree said unrepentantly. “When we were kids, all the others were constantly getting into mischief. I was usually hidden away in my room reading or daydreaming. I made a great target for their pranks. Now it’s my turn to get even, because I know Jake won’t let them hurt me.”

  Moira laughed. “This family is just a little nuts.”

  “More than likely,” Bree agreed. “So you and Luke are okay now?”

  “I hear she’s going on the payroll as his Irish consultant,” Heather said, joining them with an amused expression.

  “I know where you heard that,” Moira said. “Isn’t Connor supposed to keep his clients’ business to himself?”

  “Oh, he was quiet as a church mouse when I tried to find out why you were at his office yesterday. It was my mother-in-law who filled me in.”

  Moira winced. “Megan already knows about this?”

  “And before you ask,” Heather said, “I have no idea who spilled the beans to her, but she is married to Mick, who finds out everything.”

  “Is she upset because I’m going to be working at the pub, rather than taking pictures for my portfolio?” Moira asked.

  “You can ask her that yourself,” Heather said, already slipping out of the booth as Megan came into the café. “Come on, Bree. We need to go to work.”

  “But all the excitement is going to be here,” Bree protested.

  “Come on,” Heather insisted, pausing to give Megan a hug before dragging her sister-in-law away.

  “I’m sorry,” Moira said at once. “I wanted you to hear about all this from me.”

  “You mean the fact that you’re giving up the opportunity of a lifetime to be a waitress?” Megan asked quietly as she signaled Sally for a cup of coffee.

  “Not a waitress,” Moira objected. “A consultant.”

  Megan lifted a brow. “Seriously?”

  “Okay, yes, I’ll be waiting on tables and cooking from time to time, but it’s what I want,” she told her, her jaw set stubbornly.

  “If it truly is, then you have my blessing,” Megan said. “But if this is because of Luke, you’re making a terrible mistake. Are you afraid he can’t handle you becoming a huge success?”

  “Absolutely not,” Moira said, then frowned. Megan sounded so sure that what she was doing was something she’d come to regret. “Do you think he’ll never want me the way I want him? Is that why you think I’m making a mistake?”

  “No. What I fear is that you’re walking away from a career that could give you fame and creative satisfaction, to say nothing of great financial rewards.”

  “Do I have to choose?” Moira asked wistfully. “I mean, right at the moment? I know you’re an expert and I respect your opinion, but there’s no certainty that I could be a success at photography, is there? I know it’s a world that can be capricious, especially at the artistic end of it, as you’re proposing.”

  “So you’re scared of failing?” Megan asked, looking disappointed.

  Moira shook her head indignantly. “Not at all,” she insisted. “Luke asked the same thing, but it’s not that. I swear it isn’t.”

  “Then explain it to me, because I honestly don’t understand,” Megan said.

  “It would mean giving up a certainty, something I know and love, for what could be no more than a pipe dream,” Moira told her earnestly. “It’s as if I’m at this fork in the road and I’m choosing the one that feels right, familiar to me.”

  “But it’s only when we take the other fork that we grow,” Megan said. “I’m sure you’ve heard the story of me walking out on Mick all those years ago. If I’d listened solely to my heart, I’d have stayed right here with my family, even though I was terribly unhappy. By choosing to take the risk of losing, look at all I gained. I have a career that truly fulfills me.”

  “But you came close to losing your children in the bargain,” Moira reminded her. “Was it worth that sacrifice?”

  Megan’s face clouded over and, for a minute, Moira thought she might have gone too far, broaching a subject that was way too personal. But Megan, after all, was the one who’d brought it up to make her own point.

  “I’m sorry,” Moira apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Of course you should have,” Megan replied. “And it was a terrible sacrifice. I’m still making up for it. The hurt I caused might not have been intentional, but it’s taken me years to make amends to my children.”

  “Knowing all that you know now, would you do it again?” Moira asked.

  Megan’s lips curved slightly. “I like to think that I’m far wiser now, that I would fight harder for what I wanted in the first place, rather than walking away in frustration and anger. In the end, though, if the circumstances were precisely the same, I would probably do it over again. I hope, though, that I wouldn’t allow my children to stay behind. That was the real mistake I made. I let Mick convince me that they should stay here in their own home, surrounded by friends and family. I could see the blessing in that, but I know now that they lost something as well. They lost me. Worse, they didn’t understand why.” She shrugged. “So, while they might have hated moving with me to New York, they wouldn’t have felt abandoned. The scar that left will never be entirely healed.”

  “I suppose there can be unplanned repercussions to any decision, even those that are the most carefully thought out,” Moira said.

  “No question about it.” Megan smiled. “And have you carefully thought about yours? Or did you make the decision on impulse?”

  “A mix of the two, I imagine,” Moira admitted. “I gave it though
t, of course, but there hasn’t been a lot of time to weigh the pros and cons.”

  “Could we make a deal, then?” Megan suggested. “Will you promise me not to give up entirely on photography? Will you continue to build your portfolio and work with me to mount a show here? There’s little risk in that, and you’ll be right here with Luke while you try. It seems to me it could be a win-win. If the show’s the success I envision, you’ll have a real choice to make then, not one that’s based on fear or what-ifs.”

  Under the circumstances, it was the fairest offer imaginable. Moira knew she’d be an idiot to reject it. “I can promise that much,” she said.

  And if it turned out that the path she thought she wanted—one that led to a home with Luke and a family—was her destiny, she’d have chosen it fair and square, rather than by default.

  “You’ve a great talent for negotiating,” she told Megan.

  Megan winked at her. “In my business, it’s why I make the big bucks for my clients. I’m convinced that you’re going to be one of them, Moira. Perhaps one of the best.”

  When Moira was about to speak, Megan held up her hand. “Before you argue that I shouldn’t count on that, that you could decide photography is not what you want, keep in mind that there’s a third option. Some people manage to blend a family and a career without sacrificing either one of them. It doesn’t have to be an either/or decision. You could have the best of both worlds. The only certainty, Moira, is that you’ll never know if you could be one of them unless you try.”

  Moira was still sitting where Megan had left her, sipping her fourth cup of coffee, when Nell and her grandfather came in.

  “Here you are,” Dillon said, looking delighted. “Everyone’s been wondering where you were.”

  She smiled at that. “It’s not as if the town much cares about my comings and goings,” she said.

  “Luke does,” Nell responded. “And he’s been watching the door at the pub all morning. You’re supposed to be there to begin training the waitstaff soon.”

  Moira had a moment of panic, then drew in a breath. “Not today,” she said. “Luke’s only hiring them today. Training’s due to begin tomorrow.”

  “When we were there just now, he was grumbling that he wanted your input on his final choices,” Nell said.

  Moira brightened at once. “Really? I thought he’d made the decisions.”

  “I gather it dawned on him that he should run them by his consultant,” her grandfather said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “How exactly did you get hired on in that capacity?”

  She grinned at him. “I was very clever about it. You would have been proud. I suppose for the exorbitant salary I intend to talk him into, I’d best get over there.” She met Nell’s gaze. “You’ll be training the new cook starting tomorrow?”

  Nell nodded. “I hope to goodness he comes to us with more experience than my grandson. Not that I would ever say this to Luke, but he was the closest I’ve ever seen to hopeless. I thought for sure I was going to wind up with a full-time job at my age.”

  Moira chuckled because Nell almost looked as if she regretted that it wasn’t going to turn out exactly that way. “Well, he’ll obviously need the both of us, if he’s to make a success of his place.”

  “And though Thursday’s a test run for family and a party, I’ve promised to help with the cash register for the official Friday opening, since we expect the place to be mobbed,” Dillon said, looking pleased to have been asked. That had been Moira’s suggestion, after explaining to Luke that he’d need to be spending his time with the customers, not counting out change as he might on a regular night.

  “It’s all coming together quite nicely,” Nell said. “I predict that O’Brien’s will be a huge success.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ear,” Moira said.

  Because if anything went wrong, she couldn’t imagine how Luke would cope with it. He was counting on the pub to measure his worth. She could have told him there were other, far more important measures, but he’d never take her word for it. He needed this success in ways she was just beginning to fully understand as she faced the decisions that would ultimately determine her own destiny.

  16

  Luke had been over his pages of lists at least a dozen times by late afternoon on Thursday. Every item had been checked off and rechecked. The aromas in the kitchen reminded him of Gram’s, and he knew for a fact that the dishes tasted just the way they were supposed to. The bar was stocked. The tables and chairs were where they were meant to be. The waitstaff had all been here early, listening intently to Moira’s suggestions. It should have put his mind at ease, but so far he felt only a terrible churning in his stomach.

  “What can I do to help?” Moira asked, standing behind his chair to massage his shoulders, which were knotted with tension.

  “Nothing,” he said, wanting only to get through his momentary panic on his own. This was his pub, his success or failure. He’d never had so much at stake before in his life.

  “Everyone’s ready,” she said, obviously trying to soothe him. “You’ve hired an excellent waitstaff. They’re all reasonably experienced and more than eager for this place to do well. They’ll provide just the right combination of energy and solicitous service.”

  “I know that,” he said. “I don’t need a pep talk, Moira.”

  She frowned at his impatient words. “I’m just trying to help, Luke.”

  Regretting that he’d snapped at her, he touched her hand. “I know that, but all I need is for the doors to open and for this night to get started. I’ll calm down then.” Another stab of panic knifed through him. “Did the band get here? They were lost on some country road an hour ago when they called for directions.”

  She smiled and motioned for him to listen. “Can’t you hear them tuning up?”

  “And the setup is okay for them? I should go out there. Make sure everything’s the way they want it.”

  Pressure on his shoulders kept him in place. “I’ve already checked,” Moira reassured him. “They have everything they need. The sound check has gone off without a hitch. I promise you, Luke, it’s all good. Would you like me to bring you a drink? It might steady your nerves.”

  He shook his head. Taking a drink now would send him off on a dangerous path. He’d never been especially tempted by alcohol, but he didn’t want to chance turning to drink to get through a bad case of nerves. It was far too easy to go from an occasional excuse to a nasty habit. He’d seen too much of it at college, had lost a friend to it after a party had gotten wildly out of hand and the friend had tried to drive home drunk. He’d hit a tree and died at the scene. Luke had found his twisted car just moments after the accident. He still shuddered when he thought of it. Now, as the owner of a pub, he’d vowed that no one would leave here with car keys in hand if they’d had too much to drink. Not ever. Law or not, he took it as a personal responsibility.

  He forced himself to shake off the memory from that long-ago tragedy, which was easier when he heard Moira’s next attempt to quiet his worries.

  “We could run to your place for a quick tumble in your bed,” she suggested, at least half-seriously judging from the glint in her eyes. “There’s time enough.”

  He laughed at last. “Since when has a few minutes ever been enough for us?” he asked. “But thanks for the incredibly tempting offer. If anything could distract me right now, that could.”

  She smiled, though he sensed that she was trying to mask a hint of disappointment.

  “There’s nothing I can do, then?” she inquired plaintively.

  “Nothing except to run for your life, so I don’t wind up snapping your head off when I don’t mean to.”

  She nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll be out front if you think of anything I can do to help.”

  After
she’d left his office with unmistakable reluctance, he felt awful for banishing her, but he knew he needed to face tonight alone. This was his life on the line, his future.

  How could Moira possibly understand what it meant to him to prove himself? Only one other O’Brien had ever failed spectacularly, and that was Bree. She’d more than made up for it now, both with her business and her theater, but it had taken her a long time to get past feeling like a failure when she’d come back from Chicago after a play of hers had bombed with the critics. And she was a woman. It was, he thought, worse for a man, though he could think of a few O’Brien women who’d chop off his most valued parts for suggesting such a thing.

  He drew in a deep breath, then set his clipboard down on his desk. That wasn’t going to save him now. Murmuring a little prayer under his breath, he opened the door and went out to face whatever the night would bring. At least, he told himself, he’d be surrounded tonight by a horde of friendly O’Briens.

  Even though this was Luke’s big night, Moira was a nervous wreck on her own behalf as well. Not only was she going to be taking photos and trying to pitch in with the waitstaff or wherever else she might be needed, but she would be on display as Luke’s girlfriend. It was one thing to have his family’s approval, but now she had to impress the elite in this tight-knit community. Having Luke reject her earlier attempts to bolster his spirits hadn’t helped with her sudden flood of insecurities.

  It was Jess who found her hovering in a dark corner of the pub before the doors opened, doing her best to stay out of Luke’s way. He’d spent the day stressed and irritable and she’d been his handy target. Since her usual style would be to fight back, it was smarter to steer clear until his nerves settled. She was proud of the fact that she’d gotten out of his office as requested, rather than staying to remind him that they were supposed to be a team.

  “Why are you hiding over here?” Jess asked. “You and Luke haven’t had a fight, have you?”