Liz studied his cheerful expression, then sighed. “We’re back to giving me ten minutes. Then we’ll both go to Sally’s.”
He grinned. “That works for me. What about Archie?”
At last she found a reason to smile. “He can go upstairs and investigate his new home while we eat. He’s much better these days about chewing up the furniture.”
Aidan stared at her. “Am I supposed to take comfort from that?”
She beamed at him. “You probably should. He still has a few other habits you’ll probably want to break him of. I hope you have plenty of room on the top shelf in your closets for your shoes.”
Aidan’s heartfelt sigh followed her into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, they had Archie and his crate in Aidan’s car and were parking behind the shops on Main Street. Upstairs, which truly was a lot smaller than Liz had imagined, the dog went dutifully into his crate, though he gave Aidan a look of betrayal as he did it.
“We’ll be right back,” Liz promised. “You be a good dog. No barking.”
Woof! Archie barked, but without much energy behind it.
Downstairs at Sally’s Liz cursed her lack of foresight when they walked in to find the usual assortment of O’Brien women already assembled.
“There you are,” Bree called out. “We saved you a seat.” She grinned at Aidan. “We had no idea you were coming, but we can fit you in, too.”
Liz noted that Aidan looked as if he’d rather eat dirt, but he dutifully took the space Bree had indicated next to Heather in the booth, while Liz took the chair that had been pulled up to the end of the table. Aidan immediately grabbed a menu and hid behind it, which gave all of the women the chance to give Liz a less than subtle thumbs-up.
This morning just got better and better, Liz thought with a sigh. She was never going to hear the end of it. Her endless denials were already falling on deaf ears. She was starting to not give much credence to them herself. She was just about as smitten as they all thought she was.
* * *
When they’d played basketball, Connor O’Brien had told Aidan to feel free to borrow his boat anytime he felt like going out on the bay to do a little fishing.
So, after that uncomfortable breakfast accompanied by less than subtle grilling and a visit to Cordelia, who seemed thrilled about the new arrangement for her beloved Archie, Aidan made a quick call to Connor to make sure he didn’t have plans to use the boat. Some alone time on the water, where no meddlers could find him, held a lot of appeal.
At Mick’s, Aidan walked out onto the sun-drenched dock and launched the sturdy little rowboat. It had a small engine, but since he’d decided on doing this for the exercise, he stuck to using the oars. He was glad there was no one around to witness his awkward attempt to maneuver even such a tiny craft on the calm water.
He rowed steadily for a half hour or so until the muscles in his shoulders cried out, then rowed back to the dock, aware that it had been a pitiful testament to his inexperience on the water.
As he was tying up the boat, he glanced up and spotted Thomas O’Brien sitting on a bench at the end of the dock, his son Sean nearby with a fishing pole in his hands and his feet dangling in the water. Aidan fumbled with the rope he was using to tie the boat to the dock. Thomas caught it before it fell into the bay and tied it securely.
“How’s the fishing?” he asked Aidan.
“I couldn’t say. I was just testing to make sure I could get out on the water and back. Did you come over to take the boat out?” Aidan asked. “Connor said he wasn’t planning to use it this morning.”
“Sean’s perfectly content right here,” Thomas said. “So am I. Nothing I like better than being around the bay on a day like this. It’s a reminder of why I spend all those hours locked up in my office in Annapolis or making the rounds to visit all the power brokers trying to prod them into making tougher laws.”
As Aidan stood there awkwardly, trying to figure out something to say, he realized Thomas was studying him intently.
Maybe there was nothing more to the look than simple curiosity, but it made Aidan nervous. What if Thomas saw something familiar in his face? None of the other O’Briens seemed to have noted any family resemblance, but Aidan wasn’t 100 percent sure there wasn’t one.
“Since I ran into you, would this be a good time for you to tell me a little more about your foundation?” he asked, mostly to divert Thomas’s attention. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to reassure Thomas of his interest while he was at it.
To be honest, since coming to town and hearing so many extol Thomas’s virtues, he’d become increasingly curious about the mission that had kept the man from wanting to be a dad twenty-eight years ago. He seemed to have settled into the role quite comfortably now with Sean, who looked to be about seven.
“We do what we can to protect this amazing estuary,” Thomas explained readily. “It’s a never-ending task. Seems as if there’s always someone who wants to loosen the laws to allow more farm or industrial runoff. If we’re not strict about the limits on fishing, crabbing and so on, the supplies will dwindle dangerously. If we’re not vigilant about all of it, we’ll lose the battle and this estuary will be destroyed. That would be a crying shame.”
Aidan could hear the passion in his voice and followed his gaze toward the sparkling waters. An eagle chose just that moment to soar into the air. “It would be,” he found himself saying as he watched the magnificent bird’s flight. “How did you get interested?”
“I spent my life on these waters. I caught my first rockfish right off this pier, or the old rotting one that preceded it, I should say. I caught crabs, even hauled in a few oysters from time to time. Then I started reading about the decreasing supplies for the watermen to harvest every year. I hung out with some of them and listened to their stories. I could see for myself that the ecosystem was changing and not for the better. I couldn’t sit by and watch that happen, not just for my generation, but for the generations to come.”
“Sounds like an all-consuming goal,” Aidan said. Thomas’s words were no salve for years of resentment, but Aidan was forced to admit he was beginning to understand just a little.
“If you’re really interested, I have some books you could read,” Thomas said, then grinned. “I try to turn everyone I meet into a convert when it comes to the environment around here. I figure no one could be a harder sell than my brother, and I’ve finally gotten Mick on board.”
“He didn’t agree?”
“Not when it interfered with his plans for building the town,” Thomas revealed. “Had to take him to court.”
Aidan’s mouth gaped. “You took Mick to court? I’d heard there was bad blood back then, but no one mentioned why.”
“We’re past it now,” Thomas said, then chuckled. “Mostly, anyway. He claims he even sees my point. This town probably sticks to the spirit of the Chesapeake Bay Act more closely than any other community along the water in any of the states where it applies.”
Aidan began to see just how deep Thomas’s convictions ran. He couldn’t help admiring that, even if it also confirmed that in the past he and his mom would have been no match for such dedicated idealism. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be so passionate about a cause that people didn’t matter.
And yet Thomas appeared to be happily married now, a contented family man. How had that happened? What powers of persuasion had Thomas’s wife, Connie, had that his mom hadn’t. Bitterness, never far from the surface especially since he’d come to town, reared its head. It was complicated by the school principal’s insistence that he take on the after-school assignment of working with the kids who’d organized a junior support group for Thomas’s foundation.
A one-year commitment, he reminded himself. Not forever. For now he needed to embrace this opportunity to get to know his father on his own turf.
Thomas regarded him with what seemed to be real pleasure and maybe even a hint of relief. “They’re a fine group of young people. It’s been wonderful to see them dedicated to a cause that’s so important to this town and this entire region. I guess that means we’ll be working closely together, too, since I try to come to as many of the meetings and activities as I can.”
Aidan bit back a sigh. He’d known that would be the case, but hearing it rattled him more than he’d expected. Somehow he’d envisioned crossing paths with his father only on rare occasions. Surely Thomas was too busy to spend much time with one high school club, or so he’d convinced himself. He’d had some crazy idea about being able to glean the kind of man he was from limited contact, just enough to fill in the gaps without forming any real relationship.
Still, maybe it was a good thing, becoming immersed in his father’s cause. He was already convinced about what a good cause it was. If he ever hoped to bond with the man, this was an excellent way to start.
“I imagine I’ll be wanting those books you recommend and perhaps a short course in what we need to do to be effective and helpful,” he told Thomas.
“Anytime you’re ready,” Thomas responded cheerfully. “As you can already tell, it’s a topic I never tire of discussing.”
“I’ll be in touch, then,” Aidan said. He gave a wave to Sean, his half brother, a concept he couldn’t even begin to wrestle with right now. “Hope you catch something.”
Sean gave him a beaming grin. “I always do. Mom’s counting on me bringing home dinner.”
“You could join us,” Thomas suggested. “I can pass along a couple of books.”
“Thanks. Another time. I have plans for tonight.”
He had no idea what those plans might be, but anything would be better than pretending that this man hadn’t had the power to make Aidan’s life very different from the one he’d had.
Not that it had been a bad life. His mom had been amazing. She’d worked hard and they’d been okay. But even in a few short weeks in town, he’d come to realize that a childhood as an O’Brien would have been something very different, indeed.
* * *
Liz was standing in the doorway of her shop when she saw Aidan ambling in her direction. Her heart did a little flutter. Apparently it was not getting the message about avoiding him or keeping him in a tidy little box labeled “friend.”
As Aidan drew closer, she noted the troubled expression on his face and instinct kicked in.
“Everything okay?” she called out.
He glanced in her direction as if surprised to see her. “Hey. I didn’t notice you standing there.”
“I opened the door to let in a little fresh air. It cuts down on AC bills and when the weather’s this beautiful, I like to enjoy it. Where have you been?”
“After we left Cordelia’s, I took Connor’s boat out.”
“Catch anything?”
He chuckled. “I didn’t even try. Trying to keep the boat from going in circles was about all I could cope with.”
“Is that what put that expression on your face? Doing something at which you didn’t excel?”
“Believe me, there are plenty of things I don’t do well. And I don’t know what expression you thought you saw, but being on the water was nice. It was a new experience, and I’m always open to trying new stuff.” He gave her a lingering look. “On that note, how about dinner tonight? We can plot our anti-matchmaking strategy. And I’ve been hearing really good things about Brady’s.”
“It’s excellent,” she confirmed, tempted.
“Is that a yes?”
She couldn’t think of a single good reason to say no, other than panic at the thought of spending an evening with him in the romantic ambience of Brady’s. Since she tried really hard not to avoid things just because they were scary, she nodded.
“Sure. I’d love to go. I’ll want to go home and change first.”
“You close up here at six, right? How about I pick you up at seven? I’ll make a reservation.”
“Good idea. It’s the summer season, so it can be packed.”
He gave her another long look, one she couldn’t quite interpret. It made her toes curl just the same.
“Thanks, Liz. I’ll see you at seven.”
And, as he had too many times before, he bolted before she could make sense of exactly what was going on. The man was a mystery, and as anyone in their so-called book club could testify, Liz was a real sucker for a good mystery. This time, though, she had a hunch that even with her well-honed detective skills, the ending might be totally unanticipated.
* * *
Mick was sitting on the porch smoking his pipe, something he’d been forbidden from doing inside, when he spotted his brother and nephew coming up from the pier.
“Catch anything?” he asked Sean, who promptly beamed at him.
“Two big rockfish,” he said proudly. “And I reeled ’em in all by myself.” He glanced up at his dad, then amended, “Well, mostly by myself. Wanna see?”
“Of course I do,” Mick said as the boy lugged the heavy bucket filled with seawater over to him. The water sloshed onto the porch, causing Sean’s eyes to widen with dismay.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll clean it up.”
“Hey, it’s not a big deal. Maybe you could run into the kitchen and ask your aunt Megan to give you some clean water to rinse it off.”
“Sure,” Sean said eagerly, running off.
“Connie’s doing a real good job with that boy,” Mick said.
Thomas feigned a scowl, just as Mick had anticipated.
“Hey, I know a thing or two about manners,” Thomas protested. “Ma saw to that.”
Mick laughed. “She did, indeed.”
Thomas sat down in the rocker next to Mick’s, drawing in a deep breath. “That pipe tobacco still reminds me of Dad.”
Mick nodded. “I know. It’s the only reason I smoke the thing. It brings back memories.”
They sat there for a few minutes in surprisingly companionable silence given their sometimes contentious relationship.
“Thought I saw Aidan coming up from the pier earlier,” Mick finally said.
Thomas sighed. “You did. He’d apparently taken Connor’s boat out for a while.”
Mick studied his brother. “Now, why does that put that particular look on your face? Did he toss some trash into the bay? Let some oil spill out of the motor?”
Thomas frowned at him. “He did neither one. I’m just finding him hard to read. I saw him here at dinner and once since, and he seemed to get along well with everybody, but when I’ve spoken to him, he gets real uptight.”
“You must be imagining things,” Mick said.
“I thought so, too, at first, but it’s happened more than once. He’s supposed to replace Coach Gentry with that bay preservation club at the high school, but when I spoke to him about it at the school and again just now, I sensed he wasn’t very enthusiastic about the idea. I even mentioned that to Kevin after the first time we spoke. He said he talked to Aidan and that he swore he was committed to the project. Even today, he said all the right words, but there was no passion behind them, if you know what I mean.”
Mick gave him an amused look. “Do I need to point out that there’s probably nobody on God’s green earth, and I use the term advisedly, who’s as devoted to the cause as you and my son?”
Thomas chuckled, visibly relaxing. “You’re probably right about that.”
“Stop your worrying,” Mick advised. “Give him time to get up to speed. If Aidan doesn’t seem to be coming around, you can insist on a
new adviser for the group. Or you can talk to him about it, see what his reservations are. It could be as simple as being single-minded about getting the football team into shape. That is why he was hired, after all.”
“That’s pretty much what he said to Kevin. I just wish I didn’t have this sense that there’s something I’m missing.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Thomas admitted. “He reminds me of someone, but I can’t put my finger on who it might be.”
“Now you really are imagining things,” Mick said. “That boy’s never been anywhere near Chesapeake Shores before. I’ve seen his résumé. He grew up in New York, went to school there, played ball there. In fact, that’s probably why he looks familiar. You probably saw him play a time or two on TV, that is if you ever glanced up from one of your books long enough to watch football.”
Thomas ignored the gibe and nodded. “That’s probably it.”
Sean came back just then with water and a mop. He could barely lift the bucket, so Mick dumped the sudsy water on the porch to wash away the salt water, then reached for the mop. “I’ll take care of this. You get those fish home to your mama, so she can fix ’em for dinner.”
Sean made a face. “Dad and me have to clean ’em first.”
Thomas didn’t look any more pleased about that than his boy did. “Yes, we do,” he said.
Mick slapped his brother on the back, but grinned at Sean. “Go on, you two. Cleaning fish will make a man of you.”
Thomas scowled at him. “When was the last time you cleaned one?”
“I’ve cleaned more than my share over the years,” Mick claimed, then shrugged. “You and Jeff were always too squeamish.”
“Squeamish?” Thomas echoed indignantly as his son laughed.
“Squeamish,” Mick repeated, then looked at his nephew. “And don’t you let him tell you otherwise.”
“Come on, Sean,” Thomas urged. “Let’s get out of here before my brother completely ruins your idealized vision of me.”
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