Chesapeake 10 - A Seaside Christmas

by Woods, Sherryl

  Even though it wasn’t in his own best interests, Caleb actually respected her more for protecting Jenny’s back with such maternal ferocity. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  “Caleb, please don’t do this,” she requested quietly. “It’s taken Jenny a long time to get over what you did to her. If you ask me, the only reason she’s in Chesapeake Shores right now is to get some distance from Nashville and all her memories of you.”

  “Then it’s past time I apologized for the pain I caused her,” he countered. “Maybe that will give her the closure she needs to move on.”

  “If that’s all you intended, I might not argue,” Margo said. “But you want more. You want that song and, unless I’m a whole lot worse at reading you than I used to be, you want Jenny back, too. I was there when you staged that full-court press to win her the first time. That’s what you’re planning now, isn’t it?”

  He hesitated, then decided now wasn’t the time to add a lie to his sins. “Can’t deny it,” he admitted.

  He thought back to the first time he’d laid eyes on Jenny. His manager had brought her over to his place, but he’d been hung over and miserable. While he’d pulled himself together, his manager had sent her onto the patio to wait.

  A half hour later, showered and in a more receptive mood, Caleb had found her strumming her guitar, bathed in sunlight. She’d looked ethereal. The music had been just as heavenly, striking an immediate chord in him.

  When she hadn’t noticed him, he’d continued listening, falling just a little bit in love with the songs and the woman. It was hard to say which had grabbed him more. The music, more than likely, because his work was his life at that point. His feelings for Jenny had deepened with time.

  And then he’d gone and ruined it all.

  He sighed, remembering.

  “Oh, Caleb,” Margo murmured, real pain in her voice. “If you still love her, can’t you leave her in peace?”

  Long after he’d hung up the phone, he thought about Margo’s heartfelt request. The older woman was probably right. The kind thing to do would be to let Jenny go to start over with someone more deserving. And if it was all about a song, perhaps he could do that, but it wasn’t. It was about reclaiming the missing piece of his heart.

  * * *

  When Jenny left Bree at her theater, she walked along the waterfront trying to get her emotions under control. Leave it to Bree to call her on her behavior in the gentle, chiding way that forced her to see herself more clearly. It hadn’t been an entirely comfortable confrontation.

  Not that she could argue with a single thing Bree had said. She’d struggled with herself over those very things for a long time now. Each and every time reason had lost out to emotion.

  Chilled after just a few minutes in the icy breeze off the water, she crossed the street, walked briskly back toward Main and went into the café. Her cell phone rang, but a glance showed that the call was from her agent. Right this second, business was the last thing on her mind. She let Margo’s call go to voice mail and settled into a booth.

  “Jenny Louise Collins!” Sally said, a smile spreading across her face. “It’s been way too long since we’ve laid eyes on you in this town. Welcome home!”

  “Thanks, Sally. This place hasn’t changed a bit.”

  Sally glanced around at the worn, but comfortably familiar decor and shook her head. “It could use a good sprucing up, if you ask me, but every time I mention making a few changes, the customers carry on as if they’re afraid I’ll turn it into some highfalutin gourmet restaurant and raise my prices.”

  “It’s reassuring to know that it’s just the same,” Jenny admitted. “Any chocolate croissants left? I know it’s late in the day.”

  “I must have had some idea you’d be home today. I held one back just in case someone special came in.”

  Jenny didn’t believe her for a minute, or at least not that she’d been the someone Sally had been expecting. Still, she was grateful for the sentiment. The prospect of the treat had her mouth watering. “I’ll take it, and a cup of coffee. It’s colder out there than I was expecting. It almost feels like snow in the air.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, too, but there’s none in the forecast. Hard to believe we actually had a warm spell just a week ago. It was sixty on Thanksgiving. Didn’t feel much like winter coming on then.”

  Jenny smiled, remembering how many times she’d heard similar comments over the years. Once the calendar flipped over to November and all the leaves were on the ground, it seemed everyone in Chesapeake Shores started watching the skies and hoping for snow. Sadly, though, white Christmases were few and far between. That made the ones that did come along that much more magical.

  “Let me grab that coffee and croissant for you,” Sally said, hurrying off to fill the order.

  She’d just returned when Jess O’Brien came in on a blast of frigid air, shrugged out of her coat and slid into the booth opposite Jenny without waiting for an invitation.

  “I heard you were back,” Jess said, reaching across the table to give Jenny’s hand a squeeze. “I stopped by the theater, but Bree said you’d taken off. Since your car was still in the lot, I thought I might find you inside someplace getting warm.”

  “I had a sudden craving for one of Sally’s chocolate croissants,” Jenny admitted.

  Jess, who was Bree’s younger sister and the owner of the Inn at Eagle Point, regarded the croissant enviously. “Any more?” she asked Sally hopefully.

  “No chocolate, but there is one raspberry croissant left.”

  “I’ll take it, and a coffee, too,” Jess said eagerly.

  “How’d you know I was back?” Jenny asked.

  Jess laughed. “It’s Chesapeake Shores and the O’Brien grapevine is a thing of wonder. I doubt you’d crossed the city limits when word started spreading.”

  Jenny wasn’t entirely sure she believed her. Oh, she knew gossip spread quickly here, but she also knew how clever O’Briens were about recruiting help with their missions. She suspected her relationship with her family was high on everyone’s to-do list at the moment.

  “I spoke to Dad a little while ago,” Jess said, her tone a little too casual. “He’s rallying the troops for a welcome home dinner for you on Sunday at his place.”

  Sunday dinners at Mick’s were an O’Brien tradition, one Nell had insisted on. They’d been initiated to get her three sons—Mick, Thomas and Jeff—and their families under one roof in an attempt to mend fences after they’d battled over the development of the town. More recently, they’d simply been occasions for huge, rambunctious gatherings that had always made Jenny feel like an envious outsider on the rare occasions when she’d gone with her mom.

  If this one was being held in her honor, Jenny had a hunch it was Mick’s way of trying to bring her face-to-face with her mother and Thomas in a friendly setting.

  “You’ve got that look on your face,” Jess said. “Like a deer in the headlights.”

  “I’m not ready for a big O’Brien family gathering,” Jenny told her frankly.

  “Hey, I get that,” Jess said sympathetically. “Sometimes my family is a little overwhelming even for me. I even had the joy of undergoing an occasional so-called intervention. Those were fun.”

  Jenny smiled. She could imagine it, all those O’Briens focused on making some point about the way one of them was behaving. “Heaven save me from that,” she said.

  “I’d try, but I know Dad,” Jess said sympathetically. “This is going to happen sooner or later. You might as well get it over with. Just think of it this way. It’s a big house. There are lots of places to hide out and still be on the premises.”

  Jenny laughed despite herself. “Voice of experience?”

  “You bet. I can give you some tips. In fact, I might hide out with you. Everyone’s bugging
Will and me about when we’re going to have a baby. Wouldn’t you think there are enough O’Briens in this town without the whole family being so blasted eager for another one?”

  “You and Will don’t want to have kids?” Jenny asked, surprised.

  “Sure we do,” Jess said a little too quickly.

  Jenny frowned. “That didn’t sound convincing.”

  “Okay, Will’s eager. I’m terrified.”

  “Why?”

  “What if the baby has the same attention deficit disorder I have?”

  “It’s not a fatal disease,” Jenny said, not entirely understanding. Though she knew Jess had struggled with her ADD, she seemed in command of her life these days.

  “No, but I’ve dealt with it my whole life,” Jess replied. “No question it shaped who I am, and not always for the better.”

  “Then you’d be quick to recognize the signs and to get your child any help he or she needs,” Jenny told her. “Plus Will’s a shrink. He’d be able to help, too. Are you sure there’s not some other reason you’re hesitant?” As soon as the question was out of her mouth, she winced. “Sorry. None of my business.”

  “No, it’s okay. I made it your business by bringing it up. I guess it’s just on my mind so much lately it popped out.” Jess sighed. “And you’re right. Maybe I am worried about whether I’ve got the skills to be a good mother. Even with all the systems I have in place for myself, I can still be pretty scattered from time to time.”

  “You’re forgetting that I’ve seen you with your nieces and nephews,” Jenny said. “You’d be an incredible mother, Jess. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

  “Thanks for saying that.”

  “I mean it.”

  Jess tore off a piece of croissant and chewed slowly, then closed her eyes. “These are so good. They practically melt in your mouth.”

  “It’s all the butter,” Jenny said.

  “I’d give anything to have them on the menu at the inn, but Sally won’t part with even a dozen of them. She says they’re her claim to fame, the one thing she learned to make at some expensive cooking class she took in Paris years ago. She says the inn has its own culinary reputation without stealing hers.”

  “She has a point.”

  “I know, but it’s frustrating just the same.” Jess finished off the last bite of her croissant, then stood up and tugged on her coat. “So, you’ll be there on Sunday, right?”

  “Are you assigned to report back to your father?” Jenny asked, amused despite the beginnings of a stress headache starting to throb at the back of her head.

  “Something like that. I’m sure others have a similar assignment, but I got to you first,” she said triumphantly. “Yea, me!”

  “Has anyone mentioned that the O’Brien competitiveness takes a backseat only to their meddling?”

  “On several occasions,” Jess said, then leaned down to give her a hug. “It’s good to have you home, Jenny.”

  Jenny noted that she didn’t wait around for Jenny to confirm that she’d be there on Sunday. It was taken for granted. After all, when Mick O’Brien set a plan into motion, it generally worked out exactly the way he intended it to.

  * * *

  Jenny was beginning to feel as if everyone had a plan for her life. Her uncle had been on her case ever since he’d put Emily Rose to bed and joined her and Bree in the kitchen for a late dinner. At first he’d tried reason. Then he’d cajoled. Now he was resorting to threats.

  “You’ll be in my truck at six forty-five tomorrow morning or I’ll drag you out of bed, throw you over my shoulder and haul you out the door myself,” Jake said, his expression as fierce as Jenny had ever seen it, except, perhaps, for that time he’d caught her making out with Dillon Johnson after hours in his office at the nursery he owned on the outskirts of town.

  Between the nursery and his landscaping business, Jake was always on the go soon after dawn. His sister—Jenny’s mom—dealt with all the paperwork and scheduling for the company. A couple of years back he’d given her some sort of title and a salary increase because they both understood that it was Connie who had the patience to deal with all the details that Jake hated. He loved the outdoors and the backbreaking landscaping work.

  Jenny tried to stare him down. “But, Uncle Jake—”

  He cut off the protest. “Your mother doesn’t deserve the cold shoulder you’ve been giving her. Neither does Thomas, but I’ll leave that for another time. You’re coming to work with me in the morning, and you and your mother aren’t walking out of there till you’ve made peace.”

  Jenny looked to Bree for backup, but Bree had suddenly become engrossed in loading the dishwasher with their dinner dishes. Sighing heavily, she gave up the fight. “Fine. Whatever.”

  “Spoken like the sulky teenager you no longer are,” Jake said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I only want what’s best for you, you know that.”

  “This is not about me,” Jenny countered. “You want to keep the peace with Mom. Otherwise, she’ll make your life miserable at work.”

  He shrugged. “Okay. That, too. I hate it when she cries or even looks like she’s about to.” He stood up and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Glad to have you home, kiddo. I’ve missed you. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

  “At six forty-five. Got it.”

  She watched her uncle head upstairs, then rested her head on her arms. When she looked up, she said, “Coming home was a bad idea.”

  Bree joined her at the kitchen table. “No. Coming home was an excellent idea. Deep in your heart, you know that. It’s just hard to see everyone at first. That’s why this Sunday dinner thing Jess told you about will be great. You can see everyone at once, get any awkwardness behind you and then enjoy the holidays.”

  “I’m delighted to see that your father got you on board so quickly. Jess, too. I imagine he’ll be sending Nell out to track me down next. There will be a steady stream of O’Briens in my face until I capitulate and say yes.”

  Bree merely laughed. “More than likely. He knows as well as anyone that none of us can say no to Nell, you included.”

  “I could be the first,” Jenny grumbled, though she knew Bree was right. There was something so warm and wise about Nell, that no one ever refused her requests. If it weren’t for the anticipated additional pressure, Jenny might actually look forward to seeing her. She would have loved to have a grandmother like that.

  “Nah,” Bree said confidently. “You’re as susceptible to Nell as the rest of us.” Bree slid Jenny a sly look. “Especially now that she’s technically your grandmother, too.”

  Jenny gave her a startled look, then sighed as she considered the connection through Thomas. “I suppose so.”

  “Why don’t you look happier about that? I know how much you adore her.”

  “Because despite what she said about my needing time to deal with all these changes, I know she probably thinks I’m a terrible, selfish brat for leaving and not coming back,” Jenny said. “She’s bound to think I was trying to punish Mom for marrying Thomas.”

  Bree gave her a knowing look. “Weren’t you?”

  “I wasn’t, not really,” Jenny said earnestly. “I just felt lost, like an outsider in my safe, secure world. For all those years after my dad left, it was just my mom and me and Uncle Jake.”

  “You didn’t blame me when I married Jake,” Bree noted.

  Jenny flushed. “Sure, I did,” she said candidly. “But you’d gotten Uncle Jake to lighten up on me and Dillon Johnson, so it balanced out somehow.”

  Bree smiled. “Ah, so that’s how I escaped your wrath.”

  “Pretty much. I figured you were my one ally back then.” She gave her a resigned look. “Now, not so much.”

  “Leave me out of it,” Bree commanded. “Let’s stick t
o the real issue. Thomas came along and you were no longer the sun in your mother’s universe. Is that how you felt?”

  Jenny nodded. “Ridiculous, I know. I was going off to college, for heaven’s sake. I didn’t want her to be all alone. I should have been thrilled that she’d fallen in love. I wasn’t blind. I could see that Thomas adored her, that he wanted to do everything in his power to make her happy. She was glowing when they got married. And then, just when I was coming to terms with that, she got pregnant....”

  Jenny shook her head at the memory of the way she’d taken that news, as if it had been a personal betrayal. She’d fled the Christmas celebration at their Dublin hotel the moment she’d heard the announcement. “God, I behaved so badly.”

  “Everyone understood you were upset,” Bree consoled her. “You should have found out before the rest of us. They both should have been more considerate of your feelings. I just think they were so excited, it kind of came out.”

  “I get that and I had no right to ruin that moment. It just hurt to see how happy they were, as if they’d been given a miracle.”

  “They had been,” Bree said, then added gently, “But that made you realize that your mom was a woman, that you alone weren’t enough for her. It must have come as a rude awakening.”

  Jenny gaped at her. “You get that?”

  “Sweetie, observing human beings and all their frailties is what I do. You can’t write plays that mean anything without that kind of insight.” She grinned. “And I write halfway decent plays.”

  “They’re more than halfway decent,” Jenny said with total sincerity.

  “You have the same sort of insight,” Bree noted. “It shines through in your songs. How do you think you came up with so many hits? People respond to the sensitivity and truth in your lyrics.”

  “I thought it was because I’ve been fortunate enough to have them sung by some of the hottest guys in Nashville.”

  “Well, that, too,” Bree said with a grin. Her expression sobered. “I know I’ve said this before, but I’m truly sorry about you and Caleb. I know that breakup hurt.”