Chapter 13
After waiting for Kiera to leave, Nell crossed Sally’s and stared into the upturned faces of her granddaughter and the wives of two of her grandsons and saw suspicion written all over them.
“What?” she asked innocently, pulling out a chair and joining them,
“Your timing is impeccable as usual, Gram,” Bree noted. “Kiera’s just left so I have a feeling your arrival was no coincidence.”
“You know I like visiting with all of you here from time to time,” Nell responded.
“Agreed,” Bree said, then waited patiently.
Nell frowned at her, but felt compelled to add, “I like catching up on all the family gossip.”
It was obviously not the best answer she could have given. The three young women exchanged amused glances.
“And Sunday dinners at Mick’s don’t keep you up-to-date?” Heather asked. “There’s very little that escapes your notice there. The rumor is that you have eyes in the back of your head and the kind of hearing that people half your age would envy. And the visits to the pub during the week usually fill in any blanks.”
Nell studied her with a narrowed gaze. “Are you suggesting that I have an ulterior motive for wanting to spend time with you this morning?”
“That is exactly what she’s suggesting,” Bree confirmed. “I’m inclined to agree. So what’s up? We’ve already heard that you corralled Kiera and Bryan to be on your festival committee this year. Given that those two reportedly get along like oil and water, despite what my father thinks he saw when he ran into them at Panini Bistro a few weeks ago, what’s going on in that devious mind of yours?”
Nell regarded them with as much indignation as she could muster since Bree and Heather, at least, had pretty much caught her. “Devious, is it? Is that any way to speak to your grandmother? I thought I taught you to be more respectful of your elders.”
Bree merely laughed. “Nice try playing the grandmother card, but we all know you too well. What are you up to? And how are we involved?”
As much as she’d hoped to get their involvement without them being aware that they were being manipulated, she saw that simply wasn’t going to happen. They’d known her too long and, in some troubling ways, were too much like her. She might have passed the meddling gene on to Mick, but until now she’d thought it had skipped right over the next generation. Apparently not.
“Okay, if I come clean, do you all swear that you won’t reveal my plan, not even to your husbands, cousins or siblings? I suppose I should mention parents, aunts and uncles, too, just to cover all the bases.”
Bree laughed. “We’ll keep our lips tightly sealed,” she promised.
“Unless we think someone could get hurt,” Heather corrected mildly.
“Nobody is going to get hurt,” Nell said impatiently. “The goal is to have people living happily ever after.”
“Isn’t it always?” Shanna murmured.
Nell turned to her. “I heard that.”
“I meant for you to,” her granddaughter-in-law said, undeterred by Nell’s scowl.
The girl had spunk, Nell thought. They all did. It was hard to hold your own among the O’Briens without it. She couldn’t help thinking that was a good thing. Shanna had needed every ounce of it when she’d first met Kevin, who’d been grieving the loss of his first wife and struggling to raise his little boy alone. She’d had her own difficult crosses to bear from the past, as well.
Nell leaned forward then, noting that all three of them did the same. “Okay, then, here’s what we’re going to do.”
As she described her plan, she saw them nodding, their eyes lighting with anticipation. At the end, she sat back. “What do you think?”
“Ingenious,” Bree admitted.
“Will you all take the lead on this tomorrow, as if the idea’s just come to you? Dillon’s afraid if it comes from me, Kiera will assume it started with him and balk on principle.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Heather said. “She seems to be under your spell, too.”
“But if it backfires and hurts her relationship with her father, I’d never forgive myself. Their bond has been healing and growing stronger since she’s been here. I can’t put that at risk,” Nell said.
“Not to worry,” Bree said. “We’ll take the heat. This could actually be kind of fun. If there are any of those sparks that Mick saw when he caught them together, everyone in town will enjoy getting a chance to fan the flames.” She hesitated, then asked, “Why are you willing to risk Dillon’s relationship with Kiera, though? Are you so certain that Kiera and Bryan are a good match? He seems a gentle, lost soul in some ways, and she, well, she does have a bit of a temper.”
“Which is exactly why they’re so well suited,” Nell said. “Dillon swears he sees some of Peter’s steadiness in Bryan and that it’s what Kiera needs in her life. As I’ve gotten to know them both, I tend to agree. And every relationship needs a little heat and conflict from time to time.”
“This could cause some tension at the pub, though,” Shanna cautioned. “How will Luke feel about that?”
“He’ll have to deal with it for the greater good,” Nell said blithely. “I expect him to do his part, too. That’s why I’ve invited him to tomorrow’s meeting, too.”
“Invited or commanded?” Bree asked with a grin.
“It was an invitation,” Nell said defensively, then shrugged. “With a little grandmotherly guilt tossed in.”
“What about Moira? This is her mother we’re talking about,” Shanna reminded them. “Shouldn’t she be consulted?”
Nell shook her head. “I think it’s best if she’s not drawn into this. Her relationship with her mother is at stake, too. She needs to be able to claim quite honestly that she’s no more than an innocent bystander.”
“Nine o’clock tomorrow, then,” Bree said. “Suddenly—and I never thought I’d say this—I can’t wait.”
The other two women nodded in agreement. Nell barely resisted the urge to give them a high five. She didn’t want to risk celebrating too soon. There were any number of ways this plan of hers might go awry. She was counting on Bryan’s competitive spirit and desire to be taken seriously as a chef, but Kiera was a bit of a wild card. She was feisty enough to take the bait just on principle, but she could just as easily see right through the scheme and want no part of it.
* * *
Kiera was so eager to join the O’Brien women at Nell’s the next morning and get her first taste of being a part of a community event that she was the first to arrive at the cottage. Nell had already added extra chairs around the kitchen table and had set the water for tea on the stove to boil. The aroma of scones wafted from the oven, a new flavor Kiera couldn’t quite identify beyond being especially mouthwatering.
“What can I do to help you get ready?” she asked her stepmother, suddenly realizing that she was actually becoming comfortable thinking of Nell in that role. She’d expected it to be a more difficult transition, certain that she’d resent the woman who had taken her own mother’s place. Somehow, though, knowing that Nell and her father had shared a teenage passion so long ago and were being given this second chance by the grace of God made it easier. It certainly helped that Nell had never pushed, but only opened her arms to welcome Kiera into her life and into the O’Brien family.
“Your father helped me before he left for a walk,” Nell said. “Just come and have a cup of tea until the others arrive.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t put my father to work on your committee. The way I hear it, no one in the family escapes from playing a role.”
Nell laughed. “And Dillon won’t either, be assured of that. On the day of the event, I have him running in a dozen different directions to do my bidding.”
“I’ll bet he loves it,” Kiera concluded, thinking back to his workaholic ways with his various businesses in Dublin. “I’ve never seen him so happy and relaxed. Thank you for that.”
“I’m not sure it’s credit I deserve,” Nell told her sincerely. “He claims I’m trying to be the death of him, but being involved has brought him a great deal of satisfaction, I think. And it’s made him feel at home in Chesapeake Shores.” She gave Kiera a lingering look. “He wants the same for you, you know.”
“I’m more at ease here with every day that passes,” Kiera acknowledged, then felt compelled to add, “It will be difficult, I suspect, when my time here is over.”
The light in Nell’s eyes dimmed a bit. “You’re so certain you’ll be going back to Ireland?”
Kiera nodded, though perhaps not quite as convincingly as she might have just a few short weeks ago. “It’s my home, after all.”
“As it was your father’s, but I like to think he considers this to be his home now.”
“Because of you and all of the O’Briens,” Kiera said. “And it helps that my daughter has made her home here, too.”
“You could do the same, Kiera. Are there things drawing you back to Ireland, things you miss? Your sons, perhaps?”
“It’s where I belong,” she said simply, unwilling to get into the subject of her sons just as others were about to arrive. It was too complex a subject for a one-or two-word response.
Nell looked as if she might press her about the two grown sons she rarely spoke of, but instead she said only, “Perhaps you’ll come to think of Chesapeake Shores that way one day soon, as the place you belong. Getting involved with this fall festival could be a first step if you open your heart to the possibilities. You already have family here and soon you’ll have friends, as well.”
Kiera might have considered it another example of Nell’s eternal optimism, but she caught the gleam in the older woman’s eyes and wondered if there was something behind Nell’s words that ought to worry her. Before she could ask a single probing question, the others came in, the women in a chattering cluster with Bryan and Luke dragging behind. Neither of the men looked overjoyed at being included.
As soon as everyone had something to drink and a place to sit, Nell took charge.
“Okay, then, you all know why we’re here today,” she announced. “It’s that time of year again. We need to finalize our plans for this year’s fall festival. We added some innovations last year that did very well, but we can’t rest on our laurels.”
“Gram, it’s not even the Fourth of July yet,” Bree protested, though it was a half-hearted protest at best. She obviously knew that particular battle was already lost.
“Which means we’re already late getting started,” Nell countered. “I’ve been distracted. It’s time we get focused.”
“Thanks to you the fall festival has been running like a well-oiled machine for years now,” Heather reassured her. “I know perfectly well that all of the committees have been working since last fall to put things in place. I’d wager the vendors are already signed up and the advertising and press release ready to go out. We could start after Labor Day and it would still run like clockwork.”
“Well, of course we could,” Nell retorted impatiently, “but some things can’t be left to chance. I’ve no doubt we could ‘phone it in’—is that the expression they use for putting absolutely no effort into something?—and pull off a lovely event that would be a crowd-pleaser, but a few fresh tweaks will keep things lively. I think we can all agree that last year was the best event we’ve had in years.”
Kiera listened to the exchange with amusement. It was clear, even to her, that Nell had an agenda. She also knew Nell would reveal it when she was good and ready.
“Exactly what tweaks do you have in mind?” Luke asked his grandmother suspiciously. “And why are Bryan and I here? You never ask the men in the family to be on the planning committee. You count on us to be the muscle.”
“Muscle, is it?” Bree mocked, holding up her arm to point to her biceps. “I have muscles, but it’s never gotten me out of these meetings.”
“Stop with your bickering,” Nell scolded. “I swear, sometimes I marvel at the idea that you’ve all reached adulthood, when you still sound like children.”
Kiera laughed aloud at that, even as Heather and Shanna looked away to cover their own grins.
“Now, as I was saying, we need fresh ideas. Anyone?”
“Let’s eliminate the obvious,” Bree suggested. “You and the church ladies agreed years ago that there would never be any sort of baby contest or beauty pageant as part of the town’s fall festival.”
“And that’s still the case,” Nell agreed. She paused, her expression thoughtful. “That said, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have a lively competition of some kind that will draw interest from around the region. Any thoughts along that line?”
Shanna’s eyes lit up. “A bachelor auction,” she suggested excitedly. “That could raise a ton of money for the church.”
“You’re a happily married woman,” Nell chided. “What interest could you have in a bachelor auction?”
“None of us is dead,” Bree pointed out. “There’s no shame in looking, even if we can’t bid.”
“Well, I’m not even going to consider a bachelor auction, so you can just settle down,” Nell said. “It’s not suitable for a church event.”
“You disapproved of the kissing booth, too, at first,” Heather pointed out, “but you have to admit it was a huge success.”
“It was,” Nell agreed. “And despite my reservations, it will be back this year.”
“Your change of heart isn’t because it was successful, Gram. It’s mostly because it irritated Father Clarence,” Luke suggested.
Nell’s flushed face proved his point. “Well, he needs to move into the current century,” Nell murmured. “But I’ll deny it if you tell him I said that.”
“And haven’t you told him that to his face more than once?” Luke teased.
Nell frowned at him. “We’re getting off topic.”
Bree’s expression turned thoughtful. “There is one idea that came to me last night, so I did a little bit of research. I think it would fit quite nicely into the fall festival if the setup wouldn’t be too complicated.”
“Tell us,” Nell said eagerly.
“It seems there are quite a few of those cooking shows on TV that draw huge audiences,” she began, only to be interrupted by Heather.
“I watch Top Chef myself,” Heather chimed in. “And The Chew and a couple of others. Giada De Laurentiis is my absolute favorite. I’ve even tried some of the recipes. Of course, those are usually the nights Connor and I end up eating at the pub.”
“See,” Bree said triumphantly. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. What if we were to have a cooking competition?” Her expectant gaze went around the room, then landed on Kiera as she added, “Amateurs and professional chefs alike can compete.”
“Interesting,” Nell said, as if mulling it over. She looked at Heather and Shanna. “What do you think?”
“I think it sounds fantastic,” Heather said at once.
An innocent smile spread across Shanna’s face as she turned her gaze on Kiera. “Perhaps we can put to rest once and for all whether Bryan’s or Kiera’s Irish stew is the best. I’ve heard that’s come up at the pub a time or two.”
The room erupted into laughter. The others seemed to be blissfully oblivious to Bryan’s suddenly stony expression and Kiera’s panic. Whatever peace they’d managed to achieve was about to be tested in some very public forum. Perhaps that was a good thing. Their truce had led to a couple of emotionally risky encounters.
“Gram, I don’t think this is such a good idea,” Luke protested. “The kitchen wars behind the scenes at O’Brien’s are bad enough. We’ve no need to take them public.”
“Not even if we can raise a lot of money at a dollar a taste with the winner being the one who gets the most tokens at the end of the day?” Nell inquired as if she were still exploring all the angles. “We can charge a small entry fee to go toward prize money and open the competition to anyone else with an Irish stew recipe they’d like to enter. Or maybe we should have multiple categories with amateurs competing against a chef in each one. Luke, you could assemble a team of judges, too.”
“Why do we need judges if everyone in town is going to cast a vote?” Luke asked reasonably, apparently abandoning any hope of trying to win an argument with his grandmother.
“Then assemble the team of participating chefs,” Nell said readily. “Then we can determine what specialty each of them will prepare, and invite challengers.”
“I like that,” Bree said. “The more entries we have, the more excitement we can generate.”
“I like it,” Shanna said.
Nell nodded in satisfaction. “Okay, then. All in favor?”
Kiera had listened silently up till now, but after one glance in Bryan’s direction and catching his increasingly horrified expression, the competitor in her roared to life.
“I’m game,” she said, obviously startling them all. If this had been Nell’s trap, Kiera couldn’t seem to find fault with it. “It’s for a good cause, after all. And I imagine Bryan won’t want me showing him up. He’ll agree.” She turned a challenging gaze on him. “Won’t you, Bryan?”
“I’m pretty sure I was doomed from the minute I walked in the door,” he muttered, then shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
Luke groaned. “And just when the two of you were starting to get along so well.”
But, of course, that was precisely the reason Kiera was willing to give it a try. She and Bryan were getting along a little too well these days. It scared her to death. And this was a surefire way to guarantee there would be some nice, safe distance between them once more.
* * *
Deanna was sitting in the break room in the research center trying to make a decision about what she might do for the upcoming Fourth of July holiday. It was only a few days away, and it seemed everyone she knew had already made plans.
The Baltimore newspaper that someone had left lying open to an upcoming events page seemed to offer a surprising number of alternatives. Any one of them might be fun and might delay the oft-postponed trip she’d been meaning to take to Chesapeake Shores.
Then, as if fate were stepping in to taunt her, she spotted the headline on a sidebar article touting the charm of the holiday in the beachside town of Chesapeake Shores. A picture of the very shops she’d noticed on her drive through town decorated with red, white and blue bunting made it look like the quintessential small-town celebration. There was a band playing in the gazebo on the town green and a sea of children waving American flags and eating ice-cream cones.
One of her coworkers, another intern here for the summer, leaned over her shoulder. “That looks like fun,” Milos Yanich commented. Though he’d been born in Ukraine and grown up in Europe, his English was flawless with only an occasional hint of an accent to give away his roots. He pushed his dark-rimmed glasses back into place, then gave her a hopeful look.
“I’ve never been to an all-American Fourth of July celebration,” he said wistfully. “Are you thinking of going?”
“Maybe,” she said.
“Is this town is close by?”
“Not too far,” she said.
“Have you been there before?”
“I passed through once, but I’ve never spent any time there,” she told him.
Now there was no mistaking the hopeful look that spread across his face. “Then why don’t we go? We need a day away from the lab to clear our heads. Sitting inside on a holiday would be a terrible waste, I think.”
Deanna hesitated. There were a dozen reasons she should stay away from Chesapeake Shores and two compelling reasons for going. One of them was standing right before her. The other was the man she’d spent weeks now avoiding.
Milos clearly misread her silence. “Not as a date,” he said quickly. “I have a girlfriend back home. She keeps asking what I’m doing besides work and I have nothing to tell her. You would be doing me a favor. I don’t want her to start thinking that I’m boring. We could go as friends, unless there is someone in your life who might object.”
“No one,” she admitted. She could hardly explain that she would be tempting fate by going to the very town in which her father lived. What if they accidentally crossed paths? Would he recognize her? That would be highly unlikely since she’d been less than a year old the last time he’d seen her. She would recognize him only because of that photo in the well-worn article she kept in her purse.
Maybe this was what she needed to do, spend a little time in Chesapeake Shores, in his world. If she started to feel more comfortable there it would prepare her for the next time, for the day when she’d go to confront him, to ask why he’d let her go so easily.
“Let’s do it,” she said, meeting Milos’s gaze with a smile. “I definitely don’t want your girlfriend to think that your life in America is boring. You should experience an American Fourth of July celebration, and the newspaper says this is the best sort of place to do that.”
“Will they have a parade?”
“I imagine so.” She glanced at the article again and confirmed it. “Yes, there’s a parade at noon.”
“And fireworks at night?”
She laughed at his eagerness. He was usually such a somber young man, dedicated to the science that had drawn them both here for the summer. “I think fireworks are probably a requirement for any self-respecting Fourth of July celebration.”
“I will buy you hot dogs and ice cream,” he promised. “Those are traditional, too, are they not?”
“Very traditional,” she agreed, catching just a bit of his enthusiasm. She suddenly realized it had been years since she’d been to any kind of Fourth of July celebration herself. As a child there had been backyard barbecues and neighborhood fireworks in the park, but the Chesapeake Shores celebration promised to be in a class by itself.
Somehow, too, Milos’s exuberance steadied her nerves. If she concentrated on showing this young man a good time, making sure he experienced this most American of holidays as it should be experienced, she’d forget that at any moment she might come face-to-face with her biological father.