The Calendar of New Beginnings

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The Calendar of New Beginnings Page 7

by Ava Miles


  His spirits sank, and he felt sadness pull at him as he thought about being alone for the rest of his life. Of course, Kim hadn’t wanted him to stay alone forever. In the letter she’d written before her death, which she’d instructed him to open one year after her passing, she’d asked him to find love again. That was the kind of woman he’d married. The kind of woman he’d lost.

  It broke his heart every time he read that letter. He’d showed it to Natalie a couple of months back, right after Blake had returned to her life. He’d made his sister a deal that day. If she’d give Blake a chance, he’d try dating again. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but since Kim was the one who’d asked him to find love again, he’d squared his shoulders to begin the quest.

  Natalie had fallen back in love with Blake, so at least one of them had found a happy ending. So far, Andy had only gone on a couple of dates. Each one had only made him feel more hopeless about the whole love thing. Truth be told, he really didn’t want to date anyone. He wasn’t any good at dating, which Kim had known all too well. She was the one who’d needed to make the first move with him. He’d been too intimidated by her to imagine she’d return his interest.

  “Our mothers do want us to end up with awesome people,” he murmured into the phone, finally looking away from the photo. “We’ll just have to get everyone used to seeing us as friends again. It’ll only be as hard as we make it.” Saying the words made his chest loosen up immediately.

  “Exactly! We did it before. We’ll do it again. Some people need more hobbies, if you ask me.”

  He completely agreed. The whole thing was embarrassing. He didn’t need his mother and Ellen to get involved in his struggle. Besides, truth be told, he didn’t really need matchmaking help. It didn’t happen too often, but every now and then he’d received an offer for coffee, or a woman would make a casual mention of bringing by dinner for him since he was all by his lonesome, raising such a sweet little boy. But it was never the right woman, and he didn’t know if there could be another right woman.

  “How about we meet at Hairy’s tonight?” he said. “It will make your dad happy. Plus, I can bring Danny if we go early.”

  “Yeah. About that. I won’t be able to tell you in front of Danny.”

  “Is it that bad?” he asked, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his desk. “You have to tell me now. I can’t wait.”

  “No way,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ve decided the only blessing in this whole situation is seeing your face when I tell you.”

  That didn’t sound good. “When are we meeting then? I get off at five and could meet you at Hairy’s by five thirty. Maybe I’ll bring one of my siblings to keep an eye Danny so you can tell me the big secret.” And since her refusal to tell him said secret was giving him heartburn, he added, “Of course, that’s only if you can drag yourself away from the salon. I can’t wait to see your nails. What color are you going with?”

  “I hate you,” she said without heat. “You’re a doctor. You’re supposed to be compassionate.”

  My, she didn’t know doctors very well, did she? Most of them were complete assholes. He’d always prided himself on not having a God-complex like some of his colleagues.

  “I’m only compassionate to those in need,” he said, checking the time. “Ellen might try and prod you toward her way of thinking, but she still loves you. Remember that. How’s that for a dose of compassion?”

  “You’re supposed to be compassionate toward me. She wants me to be someone I’m not. I don’t know why she keeps trying. I like who I am.”

  “So do I. Look, I need to run. Literally. Matt is meeting me for a run through the park on my lunch hour. I need to finish up some more paperwork before I go.”

  “Have a great run. See you at five thirty.”

  After all her time away, darn it if he didn’t like the sound of that. “Make sure to wear open-toed shoes so I can admire your nail polish,” he joked.

  “I’m going to kill you, Andy Cakes,” she said in a dark voice. “As revenge, I’m going to come up with an even more colorful description of the plan our mothers have cooked up.”

  “Do your best. Later, alligator.”

  “After a while, crocodile,” she finished and hung up.

  Sitting back in his chair, he wondered again what Ellen and his mother had planned.

  Truth be told, it really didn’t matter. Nothing could dim his joy that Lucy O’Brien was back in town.

  Chapter 6

  By the time Lucy drove down Main Street later that afternoon to meet Andy, she had lost one skirmish and won a much larger battle. While her toenails were a glittery pink, she had a new place to hang her hat while she was in Dare Valley.

  After seeing four rental properties, she’d selected a quaint cottage up in the mountains surrounded by lush trees and craggy rock walls. The owner, Mrs. Weidman, an eccentric elderly woman who’d moved in with her son for health reasons, had described her place as a tad too old-fashioned for students at Emmits Merriam. Lucy remembered seeing her at some town functions growing up, but she’d never really known the family.

  The house was a decided change from all of the blank, white-wall spaces she’d occupied while traveling overseas. Fully furnished with a Victorian couch—her mother had described it as mustard-colored, but to her it had looked brownish—in the lavender parlor and a brass bed in the light-pink master bedroom, it suited Lucy perfectly. The second bedroom, painted a light blue, would be her home office. In the small cottage, Lucy felt like she was inside a cupcake.

  After dropping her mother off at the house for a power-walking date with April, Lucy drove to her father’s bar. Dare Valley’s stores seemed more prosperous than ever, what with the fresh paint, power-washed brick, and shining windows. People mingled on the street, running errands and sharing gossip. Parking was a pain, so she ended up choosing a spot three blocks away. She almost laughed at herself for being annoyed—parking spaces and paved roads were luxuries in many parts of the world, but it was funny how quickly a person started to take them for granted.

  She walked down Main Street to Hairy’s. Growing up, this bar had been her second home. She traced the green sign on the door announcing that an Irish band called Maddie’s Shillelagh would be playing this Saturday. The door chimed an Irish jig when she opened it.

  The hardwood floors, dark mahogany bar, and carved bench seats made her think of the pubs she’d crawled through in Dublin on past vacations. The smell of strong stout and freshly fried fish and chips teased her nose. She could no longer distinguish between the two shades of green on the walls—lime and Kelly—but before she had time to stew over it, a familiar voice called out her name.

  Her dad strode toward her in jeans and a black T-shirt with a green logo that read “Irish Superhero.”

  “Hey everybody! My daughter is back from saving the world!” He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her cheek as the small crowd of regulars cheered from their posts all around the bar. “Welcome home, sweet girl.”

  She gave him a bright smile. “I was just thinking about all the afternoons I did my homework here.”

  He grinned back, the laugh lines around his mouth deepening. “Pretty much whenever your mother was taking some class or another.”

  Yeah, her mother had tried everything from stained glass to wicker furniture making. Of course, Lucy had also gone over to Andy’s house a lot too. Maybe that was why she had the ability to feel at home anywhere—she’d started living a vagabond existence at a young age.

  “I’ve missed this place, Dad,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder after he situated her on a bar stool in the corner. “I’ve been to lots of pubs around the world, but there’s no place to match yours.”

  He kissed her temple before walking around to the back of the bar. “You’re partial, but I’ll take the praise. Your mother has been busting my balls for not talking you out of renting Eustace Weidman’s cottage.”

  Eustace was that eighty-seven-ye
ar-old lady’s first name? She winced. “News travels fast.” Not that she was surprised. Her mother had insisted on accompanying her on what she’d described as “rental shopping,” and she’d carped all the while about how Lucy should stay at home. “I need my own space, Dad. Surely you understand.”

  “I know it,” he said, building a Guinness for her. “You’re like me that way. Now, your mother. She doesn’t understand the concept of personal space, God love her.”

  Lucy’s heart swelled as she stroked the bar’s wood grain. “You planning on drinking with me? It’s my first beer in your place in some time.”

  He beamed as brightly as his bald head shone under the lights. “How could I refuse?”

  After pouring himself a Guinness, he lifted his glass to hers. “Slainte.”

  “Slainte,” she repeated and took a sip. The foam tickled her lips and the dark brew coated her tongue. “Mmm. Delicious.”

  He wiped the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing like mother’s milk, as they say in the old country. Should I ask to see your new toes?”

  She shuddered playfully. “Don’t encourage Mom. I decided to pick my battles.”

  He laughed. “Always were a smarty pants. I also heard you agreed to shoot the photos for this calendar she and April have cooked up,” he said, leaning his elbows on the bar.

  Since his expression was neutral, she couldn’t get a read on him. “What do you think about it?”

  “It’s like a lot of things your mother has set her sights on over the years,” he said with a sigh. “It’s for a good cause and comes from a good place. Personally? Well, I figure the photos of your mother are the closest thing I’m going to get to those boudoir photos I’ve heard about.”

  Lucy’s beer went down the wrong pipe, and she coughed violently. “Oh, gross! Did you have to put that thought in my head?”

  “When you’ve been married forty years, you can judge me for looking for a little marital spice wherever I can find it,” he said, reaching across the bar and pounding her back.

  The whack of his hand inflamed her lingering soreness, and she made a sound of distress before she could stop herself.

  His hand froze immediately, and his clever eyes narrowed. “Are you hurt, young lady?”

  She continued to sputter, shaking her head. Uh-oh. But he came around the bar and planted himself down on the stool beside her as she coughed into a napkin.

  “Don’t make me pull up your shirt in the back and embarrass us both,” he said, putting his hand on her knee.

  He sounded way too much like Andy Hale, and she wasn’t sure how to deflect his concern.

  “I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her chest. “You have a hand like a meat cleaver.”

  “Bullshit. I know my daughter. You wouldn’t return to Dare Valley if something dire hadn’t happened.”

  She clutched the beer in her hand. “I was burned out.”

  “Don’t make me say bullshit again. You’ve been burned out before. Talk to me.”

  Since she knew he would only press her until she caved, she decided to share a vague description of the events. “Fine. Something bad happened in a village where I was working, and I needed time to recover.”

  His mouth pursed, and his ears turned red before her eyes—a sure sign he was more than upset. He was livid. “Recover from what?”

  “I wasn’t beaten or raped,” she said, putting her hand on top of his. “But I was hurt, and I’m recovering. Please don’t make me talk about it more, and please don’t tell Mom.”

  He pulled her close and hugged her, and for a moment, she let her arms curl around him.

  “You worry me something fierce, young lady,” he said, his voice rough. “I remind myself you’re your own woman and always will be, but I love you, and your work in all those war zones takes a toll on those who love you too. I don’t say it to make you feel guilty. I only say it because…shit…it gives me some bad moments. Okay?”

  “I know it does,” she said softly, helpless in the face of his show of emotion.

  He let her go and picked up his beer, downing half the contents. “I can’t promise not to tell your mother.”

  “But—”

  “You know how this works, Luce,” he said, setting his beer back on the bar top with a clack. “She’s my partner, and you’re our kid. I don’t keep secrets from Ellie. Not even for you.”

  No, he never had, and it was something she admired. Most of the time. “I was hoping for a reprieve this one time.”

  “Not a chance, kid. But I will do my best to get her to give you some space. If you’ve come home to heal, we’ll do everything we can to support that. You have my word.”

  “Oh, Daddy,” she said, feeling uncharacteristically teary-eyed.

  “Don’t you dare make me cry, missy,” he said, swiping at his eyes. “But you have to promise to tell me if you need help with anything. I won’t accept anything but a resounding yes from you there.”

  As a bargain, it was the best she could hope for. “I promise.”

  “Good,” he said, cracking his neck and standing. “Now, how about some fish and chips?”

  Lucy tapped her finger in time with the Irish music playing over the speakers to lighten the moment between them. She’d always known her dad worried about her, but he usually didn’t let her see it. “Sounds great.”

  “This time home will be good for you, Luce. And the calendar will be a fun change.” He gave her a wink, shaking off his own emotions. “Then you can decide what the incredible Lucy O’Brien will do next. I can’t wait to see what that will be.”

  She knew how much that cost him to say, fighting his worry and all, so she stood and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Daddy.”

  He gave her a butterfly kiss like he’d done when she was little. “I love you too, Lucy Lu.”

  By the time happy hour officially rolled around, the noise level in the bar had risen to concert-level. Lucy found herself wedged against the bar while her dad built beers like a pro with Mike, his main bartender, and reconnected her with his local patrons. Of course, she’d seen many of them during her brief visits home, but those visits had typically been limited to a few days at a time, meaning there was usually only time to connect with family and close friends. It felt good to get reacquainted with a wider net of people. Some of them were long-time Dare Valley residents she had known since she was a little girl. A few of her dad’s friends chucked her under the chin, joking that maybe his hair would finally grow back now that she’d returned. Like she’d made it fall out in the first place.

  She even chatted with a few people she’d grown up with. Patrick O’Shaughnessy, a fireman, still had a crooked smile and streaky blond hair. He was a couple years younger, but he’d lived on their block and played Ghosts in the Graveyard with her and the other neighborhood kids.

  Her dad also introduced her to several newbies, who’d moved to Dare Valley from bigger cities, seeking more time with their families and less time commuting. She’d never remember everyone’s names, but it turned out they knew hers. According to the bar patrons, her dad talked about her frequently.

  One of the newbies, a young doctor who knew her parents, explained that many of Dare Valley’s new arrivals worked in the town’s expanding medical industry. Dr. Jeff Geller was easy on the eyes, but his faux hawk—perfectly gelled to a point in the middle of his forehead—made her want to giggle. He’d signed up for a three-year stint at Dare Valley General to lower his student loan payments since it was technically still categorized as a rural hospital.

  “Medical practices are popping up everywhere to support our patients,” he told her. “You heard General won an award for being a leading regional hospital, right?”

  Lucy shook her head, keeping an eye out for Andy and Danny, who were due to arrive any moment now.

  “No, I hadn’t heard that,” she said, soaking in the view of her dad building beers and laughing at something one of his regulars was going on about. She really
had missed this place.

  “Of course, there’s some like your pal, Dr. Andy Hale,” Jeff said, giving her a sly smile, “who left because of the insane hours in city hospitals.”

  “How do you know Andy is my pal?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

  “Your mom talks about you,” Jeff said, making her frown.

  Was her mom hoping to set her up with this cute, too-young doctor? Sure, her mom might want her to hook up with Andy, but Lucy wouldn’t put it past her to consider back-up options. When it came to getting grandchildren, Ellen O’Brien would pull out all the stops.

  “What exactly did my mother say about me?” she asked.

  “Besides the fact that you’re wicked smart, funny, and pretty?”

  That line didn’t much surprise her. He’d been looking his fill as he sipped his Guinness, and in all honesty, Lucy had been enjoying his eyes on her. Sadly, it had been a while since she’d had a pleasant encounter with male admiration. The last one had been with two frisky chimpanzees in Uganda, who had pounded their massive chests upon seeing her. It had made her chortle to be the subject of that kind of male admiration.

  “I’m all that and more,” she said, grabbing a handful of her dad’s spicy peanuts from the bowl on the bar. “What else did my mom say?”

  He brushed closer, like he thought he was scoring points, which was sort of annoying. “Ellen said you have the biggest heart out there and that any man would be lucky to have you.”

  Lucy tried to appreciate her mother’s compliments. She really did. “That’s nice of her.”

  “I have a secret to tell you,” he murmured.

  She edged back as his breath tickled her ear. She was almost afraid to ask. “What’s that?”

  “April’s recruited me for the calendar. I have some ideas for you to consider.”

  Great. Dr. Faux Hawk was part of the hot dog crew. “Oh, really?”

  His head darted closer, making her think of pigeon feeding in a park. Any earlier excitement she’d felt faded.

 

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