Chapter 15
Kiera stared at Bryan in alarm, his crazy pronouncement hanging in the suddenly charged air between them.
“Have you listened to nothing I’ve said?” she demanded.
“I heard every word. In my experience, the best way to face fear is head-on.”
“And in some twisted way that calls for another kiss, when I’ve already admitted that the first one rattled me and declared it a huge mistake?”
“I don’t recall the word mistake being used,” he said, clearly enjoying the fact that he’d flustered her so thoroughly.
“I’m using it now,” she said quite firmly. “It was a mistake, one that there’s no reason to repeat.”
“Not even as a way to determine if the first time was merely a fluke?” he asked, eyes twinkling. “Perhaps it was just that I caught you off guard, as you said. Now that you’ve fair warning, you can rally all your carefully crafted defenses and another kiss might have no effect at all. You could put all your worries to rest.”
“You’re crazy,” she declared, though on some level she found his argument persuasive. Downright tempting, in fact. Perhaps she was a little crazy, too, when it came to this.
“Not crazy at all,” he insisted. “I am proposing a rational way to test the situation and determine if the outcome was unique or a likely pattern. It’s scientific research, if you think about it.”
Feeling a desperate need to escape before he put his theory to the test, Kiera reached for the handle of the door, but before she could wrench it open, Bryan gently touched her shoulder.
“Don’t run, Kiera. Let’s settle this here and now.”
She turned back and saw that there was compassion and understanding in his eyes, no hint of laughter. If he’d been even the tiniest bit amused, she might have fled. Instead she sat back, the internal debate overwhelming her.
While she wrestled with warring emotions—longing and common sense—he reached over and skimmed the pad of his thumb across her lips, his touch as gentle and fleeting as the whisper of a butterfly’s wings. Her lips parted at the sensation he stirred. Longing was winning.
To her surprise, he took her hand and placed it on his chest. “Can you feel my heart beating, Kiera? It’s pounding. I’m as terrified by what we might discover as you are.”
She regarded him with wonder. “You are?”
“Believe me,” he said seriously. He framed her face with his hands, then closed his eyes and kissed her oh-so-gently, just as he had the first time, but there was nothing sneaky or quick about this kiss. He lingered, explored and left her head spinning when he finally released her.
He was the first to sigh. “Not a fluke, then.”
She nodded, breathless. “Not a fluke.”
She wanted to find that every bit as terrifying as she’d predicted, but somehow she couldn’t. She found it reassuring. She didn’t want to. She wanted to be able to regard him with a cool, distant look and act as if it hadn’t mattered, as if it hadn’t shattered another layer of the protective wall she’d been trying to build once more around her heart.
“What now?” she asked, her voice shaky.
To her surprise, Bryan looked every bit as confused as she felt. “I wish I knew,” he said softly, then smiled as he glanced behind her. “What I do know is that we have an audience. Luke and Moira are standing at the kitchen door of the pub, both of them a bit slack-jawed. I suspect we’re going to have a few questions to answer when we go inside.”
“We could start the car and drive away,” she suggested hopefully, feeling like an embarrassed teenager who was about to be cross-examined by a critical parent.
Bryan chuckled. “You have met Moira, haven’t you? Does your daughter seem the kind to be put off? Running away now would only delay the inevitable.”
“Or you could go in and take the heat and I could go off and enjoy my first Fourth of July in America with my granddaughter, rather than leaving her with a sitter for the holiday. It’s a day families should spend together.”
“Isn’t the sitter taking her to Mick’s for just that reason?” Bryan asked.
Kiera sighed. “Yes, but I could take her.” She warmed to the idea. “I think that’s the most reasonable plan. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“How long do you think it would be before Moira catches up with you?”
“If the pub’s as busy as it’s likely to be today, she won’t be able to get away. It could be hours.”
“And will your explanation be any easier then? Or will it be harder, since you’ll also be explaining why you abandoned your duties at the pub on one of its busiest days of the summer?”
He was probably right, but she didn’t have to like it. “I’m the mother. I don’t need to have an explanation,” she said stoutly, knowing that it was an argument that would hold no water with her persistent daughter.
“Now you’re catching on. Just tell them to butt out. That’s what I intend to do.” He gave her a long look. “Ready?”
She sighed heavily. “As I’ll ever be,” she said.
One of these days she’d have to focus on how, at this stage of her life, she’d managed to find herself in such a fix.
* * *
“You and Kiera seem to be getting along much better today,” Luke said, cheerfully greeting Bryan as he walked into the kitchen.
“You should be grateful,” Bryan retorted, reaching for his apron and going straight into the pantry to collect the ingredients for the day’s special—bangers and mash with onion gravy—for those who wanted an Irish twist to the traditional hot dogs and French fries that would be available at booths on the town green.
Sadly, Luke didn’t take the hint and disappear while he was in the pantry.
“You’ve been asking for a return to peace and harmony. I’m working on it,” he told his boss.
“So that kiss I witnessed was for the benefit of the pub?” Luke asked, clearly amused.
“That’s what I said,” Bryan confirmed.
“And you took no personal pleasure in it?”
Bryan stopped what he was doing and scowled at Luke. “Are you asking as my boss?”
“I was, but now I’m asking as the concerned son-in-law,” Luke said.
“Then I’m telling you to butt out. Kiera and I are adults. We’re figuring this out day by day. Once we have any notion where this might lead, we’ll be sure to let you know.”
Luke looked surprised. “Then you think it might lead somewhere? There are feelings involved?”
“I’m not thinking about it at all at the moment. I’m trying to get ready to cook for the legions of customers likely to wander into your pub today.”
“Fair enough, but if Kiera’s heart gets broken and I have to deal with the fallout, I may not be able to protect you from Moira’s wrath.”
Bryan nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. I notice, by the way, that you don’t seem to be too concerned that my heart might get broken. Haven’t you told me repeatedly that Kiera’s not an easy woman?”
Luke laughed. “From my vantage point, it seems to me you’re handling her just fine.”
Luke left the kitchen then and Bryan sighed. If only that were true.
* * *
The quiet, sleepy little town Deanna recalled from her previous visit was nowhere in evidence as she and Milos drove into town on the Fourth of July. The streets of downtown Chesapeake Shores had been blocked off and were packed with people. They were directed to an already crowded parking lot by the high school on the outskirts of town.
“I thought this was a small town,” Milos said, his eyes wide. “It looks as busy as London.”
Deanna laughed. “Perhaps it seems that way at first glance today, but I promise that the last time I was through here, it was a typical small village. Look around. There are no skyscrapers, and I think there might only be one traffic light. I don’t even think there’s a McDonald’s or a Taco Bell, and definitely no Starbucks. All the businesses are local, or at least that’s how it seemed the day I drove through.”
“Why did you come here?”
“I’d read about it somewhere,” she said. “And I needed a break on my drive to Baltimore.” It was simple enough and mostly true. The reality was far too complex for a day like today, with the sun already beating down and only a slight breeze stirring off the water. She glanced at her watch. “The parade doesn’t start for a half hour. What would you like to do first?”
Not that there were many options with the crowds seeming to move as one toward the town green.
“There are booths over there,” Milos pointed out. “I will buy you something, a souvenir for bringing me to my first American Fourth of July celebration.”
“You don’t need to do that,” she objected.
“A flag at least,” he argued. “We’ll need one to wave when the parade starts.”
His excitement was contagious, and Deanna found herself being swept along with it. With flags in hand, they found a spot along the parade route and waited until they could hear a band playing in the distance. “It’s starting,” she said, glancing up the street in the direction of the sound.
An hour later the last charming float had passed by and the crowd was dispersing, most of them heading toward the green and the arts and crafts festival there.
“Are you ready for a hot dog?” she asked Milos.
“Let’s walk around first and see the shops,” he said.
Deanna had to admit she was curious about this town where her father had settled. She let herself be led down Main Street, where they passed Sally’s, which seemed to be jam-packed, despite the competition from the food vendors on the green. They peered in the windows at the flower shop, the bookstore and a souvenir shop before turning onto Shore Road with its cafés and galleries.
Deanna caught sight of the sign for O’Brien’s and tugged on Milos’s arm. “Let’s walk on the other side, by the water,” she suggested, unwilling to pass directly in front of the restaurant, as if she might be tempting fate.
With Milos willingly following her, she crossed the street and walked out onto the town pier, where they lingered to watch people fishing. Then they started along the waterfront. Deanna kept her gaze focused on the bay, where an increasing number of boats seemed to be gathering in anticipation of the fireworks coming later.
“Wait!” Milos said, stopping suddenly.
“What?”
“It’s a pub, just like in Ireland,” he said excitedly. “I went to Trinity College in Dublin for a special program and went to many of the pubs there. Have you been to this one?”
“No,” she said carefully, panic starting to rise as she sensed what was coming next.
“Then we must go,” he said eagerly. “It looks busy, but the line is not too long.”
Deanna balked. “I thought you wanted hot dogs and ice cream.”
“We have all day. We’ll be hungry again. I want you to try something from my life in Europe.”
There was no way around it, not without revealing why she didn’t want to walk inside that pub. She told herself she was being ridiculous. Sure, she would be putting herself right in her father’s path, but even if he came out of the kitchen and looked directly into her eyes, what would he see? A college girl enjoying a meal with a friend. A stranger. Nothing more.
And if she caught a glimpse of him, one she’d been longing for, what was the harm in that? It would be an icebreaker of sorts, a way to make it easier when she faced him with all of her questions. She would have the advantage of familiarity, albeit no more than a glimpse.
“If it means so much to you,” she said, though she didn’t quite manage to keep her reluctance from her voice.
Milos studied her. “Do you really not want to go?”
Feeling guilty for stealing some of the fun from the moment for him, she shook her head. “Of course I want to go. Let’s do it.”
Inside, they left Milos’s name with a hostess, then ordered soft drinks at the bar and studied the crowded restaurant.
“Is it like the pubs in Ireland?” she asked him.
He smiled. “Exactly.” He grabbed a menu from the stack beside them and glanced through it. “The special is bangers and mash with onion gravy, one of my favorites,” he said happily. “Thank you for agreeing to come to Chesapeake Shores today. I was looking forward to an American tradition, but now I have a taste of something familiar to look forward to, as well.”
He seemed so pleased by all of it that Deanna couldn’t help being glad she’d relented. Just then a young woman came to lead them to a table in the corner. “Kiera will be your waitress,” she said with an authentic Irish lilt in her voice. “She’ll be right with you.”
Moments later an older woman rushed over, looking frazzled. “I’m sorry for the delay. It’s been a bit of a madhouse today,” she said, her apologetic gaze going from Deanna to Milos and then, suddenly, back again. Her expression turned puzzled. “Have you been in before?”
Deanna felt her breath quicken. “No. This is my first time here.”
“You look so familiar,” Kiera said. “But then we’re all supposed to have look-alikes, aren’t we?”
Deanna forced a smile. “So I hear.”
They placed their orders for the day’s special and Kiera hurried off.
“That was strange,” Milos said when she’d gone. “She sounded so certain that she’d seen you before.”
“It’s not possible,” Deanna said emphatically.
But she couldn’t help being shaken by the whole exchange. Was it possible that the waitress had seen some similarity between her and her father? Was that what had struck her without her even realizing it?
She realized that her friend was studying her worriedly. “Are you okay?”
“I think I just need some air,” she told him. “It’s very crowded in here and I think it’s getting to me. I’m sorry.”
“Go outside and try to find a place on one of those benches across the street,” he suggested. “I will ask for our meals to go and join you as soon as I can.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
Outside, the fresh air, hot though it was, helped, as did just being away from the pub. She found an available bench down the block and sank onto it, closing her eyes against the wave of panic that had sent her fleeing the restaurant.
“Deanna?” Milos said quietly, sitting down beside her. “Are you feeling better?”
She forced a smile. “Much,” she told him. “And I’m starving.”
They ate their meals, disposed of the trash and then walked back to the green to visit the booths at the art festival. Milos was such an easy companion, commenting on everything and clearly enjoying the entire experience that Deanna finally put the uncomfortable moment at the pub behind her and allowed herself to enjoy the day.
After spending the day shopping, walking along the waterfront and throwing a Frisbee in a nearby park, Milos insisted on treating her to hot dogs and ice cream.
“They’re going to shoot off the fireworks from the end of the pier,” he said between bites. “If we look now, perhaps we can find a place along the shore to watch.”
“Let’s do that,” Deanna agreed.
They’d just found another bench that had been vacated, when the first of the fireworks lit the night sky in a shower of red, white and blue. All around them, there were murmurs of delight and applause from the children nearby.
“Oh my! Look at that,” someone with a hint of Irish in her voice murmured from behind them as the next display exploded over the water.
Deanna glanced over her shoulder and spotted the waitress from the pub. There was a man beside her. Deanna didn’t need to look at the article in her purse to recognize Bryan Laramie. She’d memorized that image. Her heart seemed to stop for a full minute, before it thumped unsteadily in her chest.
Her father, so close she could almost reach out and touch him. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she had to look away. The tears tracked down her cheeks.
Milos turned his attention from the fireworks to her, worry immediately clouding his expression. “You’re crying.”
“I always get emotional at these sorts of things,” she told him, hoping it sounded believable. “The music, the fireworks. It’s all so patriotic and moving.”
“It is,” he agreed, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced that it was the reason for her tears.
Deanna forced herself to keep her gaze on the sky as the show went on, not allowing herself a single peek over her shoulder. She didn’t hear Kiera’s voice again or that of the man with her. If only he’d spoken loudly enough for her to hear him, she thought. Would she have remembered the sound of that voice? Would a memory have come to her of him whispering loving words as he placed her in her crib? Did grown-ups ever have such memories, even those who had so many more memories to crowd out those early ones? She had no way of knowing.
But very soon she had to find out for herself. She’d delayed confronting the past for long enough.
* * *
At home that night, Deanna turned the air-conditioning down until her apartment was almost freezing, then wrapped herself in a comforter. It gave her a sense of security to be in her own personal cocoon.
When her cell phone rang, she almost didn’t answer, then saw that it was Ash. He’d be worried if she didn’t pick up. She’d told him she was going on an excursion with a friend for the holiday.
“Hey,” she said when she picked up. “How was your Fourth?”
“The same as always, a barbecue at the Franklins’. They all asked about you. They were surprised to hear you were at Johns Hopkins for the summer.”
“I imagine that was awkward,” she said. “Everyone expected me to be working with you.”
“I just told them you’d discovered a passion for medicine and were exploring your options in that field. I actually think Janet was envious. Their son is in grad school and still shows no signs of taking an interest in anything in particular.”
Deanna laughed. “Greg is going to drift through life as long as they let him and they pay for it.”
“I’m afraid you’re exactly right,” Ash said. “What about your day? What did you do?”
She hesitated, then admitted, “I spent the day with a friend in Chesapeake Shores.”
“Oh,” he said softly. “And how was that?”
“It was everything a small-town Fourth should be,” she said.
“You know that’s not what I’m asking, Dee... Did you see your father?”
“I didn’t meet him. It wasn’t the right time, but I did get a glimpse of him and we ate at his pub.”
“That was quite a first step.”
“But just a first step. I have to figure out how to take the next one. What if he’s forgotten all about me?”
“No father ever forgets his child,” Ash said with certainty. “I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you. I imagine, given the way your mother took off, he’s wondered about you for years.”
“Maybe not. I mean he could have been glad we were gone. Otherwise wouldn’t he have tried harder to find us?”
“You don’t know that he didn’t try. It wasn’t that long after you’d left when your mom and I met and your names were changed. The trail could easily have gone cold.”
“I suppose.”
“I know it must seem scary to think of meeting him for the first time after all these years and not having any idea what to expect. Did you get any sense of him today? What kind of man he might be?”
“Not really, though he’s certainly working in a very successful restaurant. It was jammed, despite all the competition from a zillion different food vendors on the town green. The food was delicious, very authentic, according to my friend who lived in Dublin for a while.” She hesitated, then said, “One odd thing happened, though.”
“What was that?”
“Our waitress at the pub thought she recognized me. She finally dismissed it as one of those look-alike things, but I couldn’t help wondering. Do you think I might look like my dad, at least a little? I couldn’t really tell from just the one quick glimpse I had.”
“It’s certainly possible. I thought you took after your mom, but I’d never seen a picture of your dad until I found that article.”
“I wish Mom had kept some pictures,” she said wistfully. “I asked once and she told me she’d left them behind.”
“Not all of them,” Ash admitted slowly. “I found one of you and your dad in a box she’d hidden in the back of her closet. Before you accuse me of keeping it from you, I just discovered it last week. I finally decided to tackle cleaning out some of your mom’s things. I hadn’t been able to face it before. It seemed too final.”
“Oh, Ash,” she said softly, knowing how difficult that must have been for him and regretting that she hadn’t been there to lend him moral support. “You should have waited until I was there to help.”
“You’ve offered before, Dee. The other day the time finally seemed right. Letting go, even though I know they’re just clothes and shoes, was harder than I expected.”
“What did you do with her things?”
“I’ve kept all her jewelry for you. Not that she had much—she was never interested in fancy jewelry. I put aside a few other things I thought you might like. Most I donated to a shelter for women trying to get back into the workforce.”
“Mom would have loved that,” she said.
“About the picture, Dee. If you want, I’ll mail it to you.”
“Please, yes,” she said. “I really want to see it.”
“You were just a baby, remember. You’re not going to be able to tell if you resemble him.”
“Still, it’s something I should have when I meet him, to prove I am who I say I am, I guess. He might want proof.”
“I’ll mail it first thing tomorrow via overnight mail,” Ash promised. “When do you think you’ll go back?”
“Next weekend,” Deanna said, the impulsive words out before she could stop them. Now that she’d said it, it was a commitment of sorts. There would be no backing down.
“I know you’ve said you want to do it on your own, but I am willing to be there if you need me.”
“I know, and I love you for offering. I know none of this is easy for you, either.”
“All I want is your happiness, Dee.” He hesitated, then asked, “Do you know what you hope to get out of this meeting?”
“Answers,” she said simply.
Wasn’t that all anybody really needed from the past?