The Mommy Wish

by Pamela Browning

  Molly summoned her thoughts and attempted to bring some order to them so she could relate them coherently.

  “In the first place,” she told Dee, “he doesn’t know I love him.”

  “Fine. So tell him. Next?”

  “You think it’s that simple?” Molly asked incredulously.

  “Nothing is ever simple, but you’ve got to start somewhere.”

  She hadn’t wanted Eric to make such a declaration to her because once he stated that he loved her, she’d be required to act on the information. She’d have to say that she loved him, too, or that she didn’t. Either answer would kick over a whole can of worms in their relationship. She’d never once thought about saying the words first.

  She sprang up from the window seat. “Dee, you’re brilliant,” she said.

  “But—”

  “No, I mean it. I’ll talk to him about it tonight.”

  “Talk to him? Why don’t you create a setting—candles, moonlight, Phoebe in bed asleep—before you spring this on him?”

  “Like I said, you’re brilliant. I’ll stop and buy candles on the way home.”

  Dee went to a nearby drawer. “I’ll give you some. You can have flowers from the camellia bush in the backyard. Let me know how it goes.”

  “I will,” Molly said. She was already planning to stop and buy something special for dinner.

  BACK ON FIONA, Eric was finishing up for the day, wiping his greasy hands on a rag, when Micki called to him from the dock.

  “Eric! It’s important.”

  He hurried up the ladder. The concerned expression on Micki’s round face was punctuated by a frown. “You have a phone call in the office. She says it’s an emergency.”

  He tossed the rag aside. “Who is it?” he asked. Myriad possibilities flitted through his mind—his brother’s wife’s pregnancy, his friend Steve washing overboard on his trawler? Worse yet, something to do with Phoebe?

  Micki immediately set his mind at ease on that count. “She said her name’s Brianne. She sounded as if she had been crying.”

  Eric trotted up the dock slightly ahead of Micki, who was forced to double-time to keep pace. “That’s Molly’s sister’s name. I’ve never met her.” A sense of dread washed over him.

  Eric burst through the office door and grabbed the phone up from the counter.

  “Eric here,” he said brusquely.

  “Eric, this is Brianne McBryde, Molly’s sister.”

  “Yes,” he said. Emotion blocked his airway, made it difficult to breathe.

  “I have bad news, and I didn’t want to call Molly on her cell phone, since I don’t know where she is at the moment or what she’s doing,” Brianne began.

  “It’s Emmett, isn’t it?” He tried to temper his alarm, soften his tone.

  “Yes. He—he died around four o’clock—” Brianne’s voice broke, and he heard a rustle, as if she were brushing a tear from her cheek.

  Eric didn’t speak for a moment. He hadn’t expected this. He didn’t think Molly had either, at least not so soon after she last spoke with her grandfather.

  “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Please, Eric, could you tell Molly for me? I have to phone our brother in Ireland, and I could call her afterward, but this is very difficult for me, as I’m sure you know.”

  “Brianne, I’ll tell her. She’ll be devastated.”

  “They were close. Grandpa was special to all of us, but he and Molly seemed to be on the same wavelength. She—and my brother and I—will miss him.”

  “I will, too. I got to know him when he came to stay on the boat while I did some repairs. He was a great guy, a true gentleman, an accomplished raconteur.”

  “Yes, he certainly was. Thank you for your kind words, and thanks in advance for breaking the news to Molly. I’ll talk to her later about arrangements. Right now I’m trying to pull myself together enough to inform the people he’d want me to tell. Close friends, his lawyer, the McBryde Industries board of directors.”

  “Don’t worry, Brianne. Again, I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure we’ll talk again soon.”

  They hung up, and Micki stopped shuffling papers long enough to send him an inquiring look. “Molly’s grandfather?”

  “Yes, it’s Emmett. This is going to be a big blow to her.”

  “If there’s anything I can do,” Micki began, but he silenced her by aiming a significant nod toward the window. They could see Molly swinging up the other side of the street, carrying a couple of plastic bags from the grocery store. Phoebe, clutching a bouquet of pink flowers, was scampering along beside her, chattering at top speed. The two of them looked happy, as if they’d had a lovely afternoon.

  “All I can think of right now, Micki, is to find something for Phoebe to do so I can talk with Molly privately.”

  “I’ll close up the office. It’s time, anyway. And Phoebe and I will go visit Lainie Kallbeck and Jody while you’re with Molly. Will that work?”

  “Thanks, Micki,” Eric said. He’d enjoyed Emmett’s company in their short time together, and he’d looked forward to seeing him again in Fort Lauderdale. They had discussed sailing together sometime, maybe to the Turks and Caicos islands, perhaps to Bermuda. He’d never dreamed that Emmett was so sick, and he would miss him.

  MOLLY SHIFTED HER PARCELS from one hand to the other and waved at Eric as he approached. He was wearing faded denim cutoffs and flip-flop sandals, and a baseball hat sat low over his brow. He wasn’t the kind of guy she would have given more than a casual nod a couple of months ago, and yet now, as he walked toward her, her heart brimmed with happiness and anticipation.

  “Dad! We bought more Chunky Monkey ice cream, your favorite! And Corduroy lost a tooth, and Lexie got new tap shoes. Can I take tap dancing lessons, Dad? Can I?”

  Eric relieved Molly of the grocery bags and wrapped an arm around her waist. “We’ll talk about it later, Peanut. Say, Micki is locking up the office and she wants you to go with her to visit Jody on Mrs. Kallbeck’s boat. Why don’t you run ahead, and Molly and I will be along soon.”

  “Sure!” Phoebe pressed the bouquet of camellias into Molly’s hands and was off like a shot.

  As soon as she had rounded the corner of the marina office, Molly leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  “Hi, guy,” she said. “How’s work on the engine coming along?”

  “Almost done. I’m going to replace a filter later, check a few other things.” He started to guide her toward the bougainvillea arbor, but she hung back.

  “I bought food for dinner, and I should get started on it right away. Dee gave me one of her favorite recipes, and I’m going to make asparagus casserole for dinner tonight. I thought we’d eat late, just the two of us. Phoebe says she’ll be happy if we let her heat up a can of ravioli, and—”

  “Molly,” he said, and she identified a new quality in his voice that made her swing her head around sharply. “I need to talk with you.”

  His eyes were dark with gravity and something else, as yet unidentifiable. A flicker of apprehension penetrated her mood and, unobjecting, she let him lead her to the arbor.

  “Sit down,” he said gently, and she lowered herself to the bench. Nearby, boats bobbed in their slips. Somewhere a motor chugged into action, the sound receding as the boat headed toward the inlet.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked as a sudden premonition emptied her lungs, made it difficult to breathe.

  “I’m sorry, Molly, but I have bad news.” His gaze held hers, and for the first time she saw the compassion clouding his eyes. Another emotion simmered beneath their depths: sorrow.

  “It’s—it’s my grandfather, isn’t it.” The bouquet fell unheeded to her lap.

  He took both her hands in his. “Yes, Molly.” He paused, seemed to gauge her reaction before plunging ahead. “He’s gone.”

  Eric’s face swam before her, and a buzzing began in her ears. “You mean—?”

  “Brianne called and asked me to break the
news to you. He died this afternoon. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, no,” she heard herself say. She’d known he was very ill, but she couldn’t believe that he was really gone. She couldn’t imagine getting along without Emmett. If only she’d visited him despite his insistence that she stay with Fiona! If only—But it was too late now.

  And then the tears came, a flood of grief that she made no attempt to hold back. Eric wrapped her in his arms and let her cry, rocking her gently and saying, “It’s okay, Molly, just let it go.”

  Which was all she could do for the moment.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She didn’t know how long she cried. It could have been ten minutes—it could have been twenty—but when her sobs tapered off, Eric handed her his handkerchief.

  “It’s just such a shock,” she said before blowing her nose. “What else did Brianne say?”

  “Only that she was going to notify your brother and the people at McBryde Industries as well as his lawyer. She said she’d talk with you soon.”

  Molly nodded even as tears welled again.

  “Don’t worry, Micki’s looking after Phoebe. We can stay here as long as you like.”

  “I was—” She gestured at the bags, sending a flurry of camellia petals floating to the ground. “I was planning something special.”

  “We’ll get takeout tonight.”

  She sighed, thinking of the romantic dinner she’d had in mind. “I’m not hungry at all, Eric. You and Phoebe can go get a pizza. She’d like that.”

  “Not tonight, and don’t worry about us.” He smiled at her, took the handkerchief from her hands and blotted at a lone tear rolling down her neck. Then he kissed her softly on the lips.

  “Thank you, Eric. If I had to hear bad news, I’m glad you were the one to tell me.” He was so tender, so kind. No wonder she loved him.

  “It’s never easy to hear something like that,” he said. “Even when you expect it.”

  Molly was reminded of his grief, and he seemed lost in his thoughts for a few moments. Whatever her pain at this unwelcome news, his must have been even worse. Losing a young wife to a terrible disease would be much harder than saying goodbye to a grandfather who had lived to the fullest.

  She reached for his hand, knowing for the first time how deeply Heather’s death must have affected him. “I think I want to go back to Fiona,” she said.

  His answering smile and nod were reassuring, though they didn’t diminish her heartache. Eric kept his arm around her shoulders as he walked beside her down the dock, carrying the bags of groceries. When they passed the boat where Phoebe was visiting with Micki, Lainie Kallbeck and her white cat, Phoebe called from the deck, “Dad, may I stay and eat hamburgers with Mrs. Kallbeck and Micki? Oh, and Jody, of course.” The cat peered out from under a tall potted palm on the deck.

  “Sure. I’ll come over to get you in about an hour.”

  “Goody! Mrs. Kallbeck said I could brush Jody.” She disappeared below.

  “Make it more like two hours,” Micki suggested, hurrying aft from the bow as they were turning to leave. “We’re still thawing the meat. Molly, I’m sorry about your grandfather.”

  Though bleary-eyed, Molly managed a smile. “Thanks. He was wonderful, and I’ll miss him.”

  “Don’t worry about Phoebe. I’ll bring her over when we’re through eating,” Micki told Eric. “Incidentally, she asked me why the two of you were spending such a long time in the arbor. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it best to tell her.”

  “What did she say?” Eric asked.

  “That Emmett was in heaven with her mother. And then she started playing with Jody and asked if she could brush him. She took it well, I think.”

  “Thanks, Micki,” Molly told her. “I would have found it difficult to break the news.” Although Phoebe hadn’t known Emmett well, they’d liked each other. She’d mentioned to Molly that he had always brought her a bag of M&Ms when he went out and insisted on her sharing with him, though he would only eat the green ones because they were the color of shamrocks. That was so like Emmett, and thinking about it now eased her grief.

  After they boarded Fiona, Eric started to put away the food, and Molly went into her bathroom, where she splashed her cheeks with cool water. She stared at her face in the mirror; it was pinched and white, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.

  “I want to call Brianne. I’d like to know what happened. I didn’t expect him to go so fast,” she said to Eric when she came out.

  “I’ll fix you a sandwich, if you’d like.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat,” she said. In fact, it was the last thing she wanted to do.

  “You should try.”

  “Maybe in a few minutes,” Molly said, reaching for her cell phone and retreating into her stateroom.

  She called Brianne, who told her that their grandfather had simply slipped quietly away while napping, that he hadn’t suffered and that she had been sitting beside his bed at the end. Brianne had notified everyone who needed telling, and his lawyer would be in touch with all of them soon.

  “Should I come to Minneapolis?” Molly asked her.

  “No, Molly, it’s not necessary. Grandpa wanted to be cremated and his ashes scattered in the Gulf Stream. I think you should continue on with Fiona to Fort Lauderdale as planned, and perhaps you and I could take care of the ashes later.”

  “Of course,” Molly said, wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop. She recalled that Emmett had hated funerals and always said he didn’t want one because they were a waste of money.

  “Patrick wanted to come back from County Sligo, but I told him not to bother. He can join us for the scattering of the ashes if he likes.”

  “Agreed. I’ll mention that to him when we talk. How are you holding up?”

  “Fine. I’ll be visiting Frank and his family in Lake Forest. They’ve invited me to stay with them. I’m on my way to the Minneapolis–St. Paul airport now.”

  “In Chicago, you can stay at my apartment. The guest room is always ready for company.”

  Brianne sighed. “Thanks, Molls, but I want to be with people. Frank and Elise and their brood are like family.”

  “I know. We’re lucky in that respect.”

  “Are you okay, Molly?”

  “I’m doing as well as could be expected. Eric has been wonderful.”

  “I liked the way he sounded when I called. He was eager to be helpful, and I knew somehow that he was the right one to break the news.”

  “Yes,” Molly said softly, recalling the concern in Eric’s eyes. She could see through the doorway to where Eric stood in the galley, cutting a sandwich in half, his brow furrowed as he focused on the task. He had been fond of Emmett, she knew. Shifting light penetrated the glass of the nearby porthole to cast shimmering reflections on Eric’s face, and she felt the bond of their shared sadness tighten in her chest.

  Brianne sighed. “I’d better hang up. We’re getting close to the airport now.”

  “Bye, Brianne. I love you.”

  “Love you too, big sis. I’ll be in touch.”

  After they hung up, Molly kicked off her shoes and lay back on the bed, tears pooling in her eyes and trickling freely down her cheeks. Memories flashed through her head; the years fell away, and she recalled Emmett dressed as Santa Claus, hauling bag after bag of presents into their house on Christmas Eve, knowing full well that three sets of eyes followed his progress from behind the stair railing and putting on a show to make it worth their while. She remembered how he had built each of them kites out of newspaper one windy March weekend and spent hours patiently teaching her, Patrick and Brianne how to fly them. And she’d never forget how her courtly grandfather had treated her to a gourmet dinner at a restaurant, followed by dancing afterward at a grown-up nightclub, when she and her boyfriend broke up right before the senior prom.

  When Eric entered into her stateroom, he stood silhouetted against the light in the salon. “I brought you this,” he said,
holding out a tray bearing a sandwich and a mug. “Try to eat, won’t you?”

  Molly wiped away the tears and pushed herself up against the pillows. As he settled the tray across her knees, she said, “Thanks, Eric. Maybe I can manage a few bites.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed, and she bit into the sandwich. The mug contained hot herbal tea, and she forced down a few small swallows.

  She shifted the tray to the bedside table. “I’m sorry, Eric. I don’t have any appetite.”

  “Would you like me to rub your back? It might help you to relax.”

  Obediently she turned over on her stomach, and Eric began to massage her shoulder muscles. After a while, his hands moved to either side of her spine, then to her waist. When he slid his fingertips under her blouse, she didn’t object.

  He unhooked her bra, caressed her skin. It wasn’t about sex—she knew that. This was comfort.

  After a while, he pulled her blouse down again and caressed her hair. “I’ll go now. It’s almost time for Phoebe to show up. I hope you can go to sleep.”

  She reached up and put her finger lightly to his lips. “I doubt it. I can’t stop thinking that I’ll never see him again.”

  “Wait. I have something that might help.” He went away for a few minutes and returned with an over-the-counter sleeping aid. “These are left over from when Heather died. One might get you through this first night.”

  She accepted the pill gratefully and washed it down with the rest of the tea. After Eric left, she took off her clothes and slipped a comfy oversized T-shirt over her head, then climbed beneath the covers. The last thing she heard as she drifted off into welcome sleep was Eric whispering with Phoebe as they boarded the boat. The sound of them talking nearby soothed her, and she felt comforted that two people so dear to her were close by during this difficult time.

  ERIC SLEPT UNEASILY, and during his waking periods, his mind kept drifting back to Molly in the stateroom at the other end of the boat. He wanted to go to her, but he didn’t want to upset her. The thought of her sleeping alone in that big bed dismayed him, yet he couldn’t go where he wasn’t invited. Finally he slept, but not well.