Chapter 8
Though it was Saturday morning, Ash was already up and dressed for a construction site when Deanna joined him at the kitchen table. She poured herself a cup of coffee and reached for a doughnut that was a familiar part of their Saturday ritual. Ash was always out of the house at dawn to bring home the fresh doughnuts from their favorite bakery. She and her mom had loved that sugary treat. She wondered if he still followed that routine when she wasn’t home or if this was his way of trying to create normalcy on a day that was anything but routine.
“Going to work on a Saturday?” she asked as she selected a still-warm doughnut with maple icing. “That’s new.”
Ash shrugged. “The house is just too empty without your mom,” he admitted. “For a long time after she died, I used Saturdays as a chance to catch up on all the work I’d missed. Now it’s become a welcome habit. I was already dressed for it this morning before I remembered that today isn’t the same. You’re home.”
He studied her intently. “How did you sleep last night? I hope my dropping the news about your father like that didn’t keep you awake. I’m sure it was upsetting to be hit with it out of the blue.”
“Amazingly, I slept better than I had in a while,” Deanna confessed. “I don’t know if it was being in my own bed and away from all the craziness that comes with studying for finals or if it was finally having some concrete piece of information about my father that I hadn’t even realized I wanted.”
“Have you made any decisions about seeing him?”
“Will it bother you if I decide to go to Chesapeake Shores?” she asked, watching him closely. She wasn’t entirely sure that she wasn’t looking for even the slightest excuse not to go.
Though Ash hesitated, in the end he shook his head. “I always thought this day would come eventually. If I were thinking only of myself, maybe I would have kept that information from you, but I knew how wrong that would be. That’s why I dragged you home so close to finals, to get it out in the open before I could change my mind. As hard as it is for me to believe sometimes, you’re an adult now. You have to make your own choices.”
“Even when I’m afraid the choice I make might hurt you?”
“Even then,” he told her gently. “Dee, I’ll be fine, whatever you decide. You and I have had years as father and daughter. You’ve been an incredible blessing. How could I possibly begrudge the man who gave you life the chance to get to know you? You exist because of your mother’s marriage to Bryan Laramie. That’s an inescapable fact.”
She took a sip of her coffee to buy time, then dared asking, “Did Mom ever tell you why she left him?”
“Not really. She just said things had been going wrong for a long time and she wanted to start over.”
She nodded. “That’s pretty much all she ever told me. Do you think things were really bad? Could he have been an awful person? Would it be a terrible mistake for me to even consider letting him into my life or even meeting him? Like you said, I’m an adult and I’ve had you, an amazing stepfather, for all these years. It’s not as if I need a dad. Maybe there’s no reason to rock the boat.”
Even as she said the words that could let her, let both of them, off the hook, she wasn’t sure what response she was hoping for.
“You read that article,” Ash reminded her. “The people the writer interviewed in Chesapeake Shores seem to regard your father very highly. Their comments were glowing about him, about the excellent menu he’s created at that pub and about the pub itself. Don’t you think he sounded like someone you might like to know?”
She thought about how everyone interviewed had spoken of Bryan Laramie—or at least his food—in such positive terms. “That’s what I thought, too.” She hesitated, then admitted, “It made me wonder if Mom really told me the whole story. He seemed to have a lot going for him in New York in the restaurant business. If that’s true, though, how did he end up in some little town in Maryland?” The pieces just didn’t seem to mesh. “We must be missing something.” She looked to her stepfather for guidance. “Don’t you think so?”
An odd expression flitted across Ash’s face. It almost looked like guilt. Deanna frowned. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
He was quiet for so long, she thought he might not answer, but then he set aside his coffee and leaned toward her. “There is something you need to know, something your mother and I kept from you. I’m just not sure I can find the words to explain.”
Her heart thumped unsteadily. “What, Ash? What could you and my mother possibly have kept from me that’s so terrible? Is it about my father?”
“No, this is about your mother and me.”
Deanna didn’t understand and told him just that.
“Just hear me out,” he said, but then fell silent, his expression more deeply troubled than Deanna could ever recall.
“To be honest, after a while I almost forgot about all this myself or at least managed to tell myself that it didn’t change anything,” he said eventually. He gave her a long look, his expression oddly wistful. “We were so happy together, the way a family was supposed to be. The day I met you and your mom was the very best day of my life, and not a day went by after that when I wasn’t grateful for everything we had. I stopped thinking about the one thing we didn’t have.”
The knot in Deanna’s stomach tightened. “Just say it, Ash. You’re scaring me. We were a great family. All of my friends envied how close we were. They loved coming over here. They said their parents never laughed and teased each other the way you and Mom did, as if you were practically newlyweds.”
The color actually seemed to drain from his face then. Deanne regarded him with dismay. “I’ve really upset you, when I was trying so hard to do the opposite. What did I say?”
“It was a lie,” Ash responded bluntly, the ugly word left hanging in the air between them.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, thoroughly confused. “I know exactly how wonderful our life was. I was here every minute. I remember everything from the day we moved into this house.”
“You don’t remember a wedding, do you?” At her stunned silence, he gave a curt nod. “Of course not, because there wasn’t one, Dee.”
“There must have been one,” she protested, searching her memory for something, anything to prove him wrong. Not one single image came to mind. Frowning, she asked, “Did you and Mom elope or something?”
“No. There was never a wedding. We couldn’t get married because your mother never divorced your father. I suppose at some point after she disappeared, he could have sought to resolve things by divorcing her on grounds of abandonment or something, but she wouldn’t file the paperwork to divorce him and he never tracked her down to file, either.”
Deanna stared at Ash in dismay. The cozy, sun-splashed kitchen suddenly seemed to darken, as if a cloud had passed overhead. “That can’t be. She left him years and years ago. They must have gotten a divorce.”
“They didn’t,” he said flatly. “Believe me, I would know. It’s something we argued about again and again, but she was afraid if she filed for divorce, he’d find her, maybe even sue her for custody of you, possibly even accuse her of kidnapping you. I tried to tell her there were no grounds, since she was your parent and there had never been any legal ruling to grant him custody.”
Deanne struggled to make sense of what he was telling her, but couldn’t. “That’s just crazy,” she said finally. “When people split up, they get a divorce. I mean even people who don’t believe in divorce find a way, an annulment or something. They don’t just run off and hide and pretend it’s all okay.”
“Well, that’s exactly what your mom did, and there was no reasoning with her. I told her it was irrational, but it was fear, Dee. I even asked a lawyer about it. He tried to reassure her, too, to talk her into clarifying the whole situation legally once and for all. She said she wouldn’t risk it. The lawyer swore he could protect her, that we’d prove that we could provide the best home for you, but she wouldn’t take that chance. I have no idea why she was so sure your father would win, but she was obviously terrified. She even threatened to take you and leave me, too, if I forced the issue.”
Deanna couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around any of it. “Do you have any idea at all why she would be so afraid of what he might do? Had she done something he could use against her in a custody battle or something? Had she run because he was abusive?”
Ash shook his head. “I have a theory, but it’s just a theory, Dee, based on the years we spent together. Did you know that your mother’s father had sued for custody of her and won, because her mother had some mental health issues? She was apparently quite unstable, possibly manic-depressive, though she was never diagnosed, according to your mother.”
Deanna was shocked. “I had no idea. Whenever I asked about my grandparents, she just said her family had been kind of a mess, but that both of her parents were gone now.”
“They apparently died around the same time you were born,” Ash said. “I don’t think your mother had the same problem as her mother, but I think she was terrified that she might develop those same tendencies. And I think in retrospect she knew that taking you and running away was not the act of someone who was totally rational. In the moment, she wanted to teach your father a lesson, and then it all got out of hand. The longer she stayed away, the harder it would have been to make contact and deal with the consequences.”
The explanation—no more than a theory, as Ash himself had said—made a terrible kind of sense. Still, she had more questions.
“But you adopted me. She and I both had your last name. I remember that day as clearly as anything we ever did together. I wore a new pink dress because it was my favorite color. We stood in front of a judge and then we went out to lunch to celebrate. Mom even let me have a sip of her champagne.”
Ash smiled at the memory. “It was a wonderful day,” he agreed.
“But how was that possible?”
“That same lawyer found a sympathetic judge who was willing to allow both of you to change your names legally, but that’s as far as it went. Your mother and I couldn’t marry, and there was no adoption.”
He held her gaze, his eyes filled with regret. “I’m so sorry, Dee. When all of this happened, the paperwork would have meant nothing to you. You were too young to understand it. Later...” He shrugged. “I always meant to tell you the truth. So did your mom, but then she got sick, and I just couldn’t hit you with this while you were worried. You had enough to cope with. It was selfish on my part, but I didn’t want it to change the way you treated either one of us.”
Shock left Deanna speechless. Nothing about her life was what she had always believed. She’d thought she had this great—perhaps even courageous—mother, who’d dared to take off on her own to get out of a bad marriage. She’d thought they’d both been the luckiest people ever to have found Ash and his warm, loving family. Suddenly her heart seemed to stop.
“Did Grandma and Grandpa know?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It would have broken their hearts to know about all the lies. They loved your mom and you so much.”
“And Aunt Karen and Uncle Blake?”
He shook his head. “Just your mom and me. No one else. Like you just now, everyone assumed we must have eloped at some point. We never told anyone otherwise.”
“How could you lie to everyone?” she asked, shaken to think that this man in whom she’d placed so much trust her whole life could deceive all of them. “They’re your parents, your sister and brother.”
“We thought it was for the best. And after a while, it didn’t seem to matter. We were so happy. Whatever else you think, Dee, remember that. We were happy. That wasn’t a lie.”
There was such a sad, plaintive note in his voice, Deanna might have felt some sympathy for the position he’d been in, but right now she was still reeling at the realization that her entire life had been based on this huge deception.
“Why tell me now? Is it just because you were backed into a corner?”
“Yes, I suppose so. If you meet your father, it’s likely to come up that he and your mother never divorced. I wanted you to learn the truth from me, even if it means you’ll never be able to think of me as your family again.”
She stood up. “I have to go.”
“Now? You’re too upset. Stay here and let’s talk about this.”
“What more could you possibly have to say that would make this any better?”
Ash sighed heavily at the obvious truth of that. “Where will you go? Back to school? Or are you heading to Chesapeake Shores?” he asked worriedly.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “School, probably. At least until after finals. I’m not throwing away a whole semester of studies over this.” She said the last with a touch of defiance, as if trying to prove to herself and to Ash how brave she was or how little any of it mattered anymore, that the only thing that mattered was the future, not the past.
She gazed into Ash’s eyes, trying to remember the wonderful, honorable man she’d thought him to be just moments ago.
“I do know one thing for sure,” she said. “And I’m not doing this to hurt you, Ash. It’s just that I need time to make sense of everything. I’m not coming home this summer. I have a chance to volunteer at Johns Hopkins Hospital, and I’m going to take it.”
He looked taken aback by her seemingly out-of-the-blue declaration. “Because it’s close to Chesapeake Shores?”
“No, because it fits with what I want to do with my life. I’d planned to tell you even before all of this came up.”
Now he looked confused. “I thought you intended to come back here and take over my business someday. This doesn’t have to change that. I’d still like you to work with me. The business was meant to be your heritage.”
“I used to want that, too, but when Mom was so sick, I realized I wanted to study medicine. I’ve been taking a few premed courses. I believe it’s what I was meant to do. I just didn’t want to disappoint you.”
He gave her a wry look. “And now you don’t think that matters, because I’ve disappointed you,” he concluded.
“It’s not about punishing you,” she insisted. “It’s about doing what’s right for me. I hope you’ll try to understand.”
“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. Once you’ve had time to think, I hope you’ll see that’s all your mother and I tried to do, to give you a stable family. We might have gone about it the wrong way, but our intentions were good.”
“I know you see it that way,” she said wearily. “Maybe I will, too, at some point. Right now, though, all I see is the incredible, awful lie our life was built on.”
And as much as she’d loved her mother and Ash Lane, she had no idea what it would take for her to feel the same way about them ever again.
* * *
Even though it was her day off, Kiera was up with the birds, quite possibly because it seemed as if whole families of them were chirping loudly right outside her bedroom window. It was a lovely sound, if not a restful one.
She brewed her first cup of tea for the day, wrapped herself in a luxuriously soft robe that Moira had given to her, and walked outside to to sit and watch the sun creep over the horizon, splashing the bay with the bold colors of a dazzling dawn. A workboat made its way slowly along, the chugging of its motor breaking the silence. She’d been told there weren’t as many watermen anymore, but the catch of rockfish and hauls of Maryland blue crabs still kept some in the seafood business as their ancestors had been before them.
She glanced up just as Bryan came around the side of the main house, dressed in running clothes that showed off a body that was still toned and fit. It was a display she’d been better off not seeing, given the nerves he stirred in her as it was. Even so, she couldn’t seem to drag her gaze away.
Something must have given her presence away, because he looked in her direction. She held her breath, awaiting a sarcastic comment.
“You’re up early,” he said, his tone surprisingly pleasant. “Especially for your day off.”
“It was the birds. They seem to have a lot to be cheerful about this morning.”
“You could close your windows.”
“And miss this beautiful morning breeze? An early wake-up call is a small price to pay for this.”
He nodded in agreement. “I like to get my run in early, so I can be back in time for this,” he said.
“Would you like to join me?”
He regarded her cup with skepticism. “Is that more of your chamomile tea?”
“No, it’s Irish Breakfast Tea,” she said with a smile. “But I have one of those fancy, single-serving coffee machines. I could brew a cup for you in no time.”
“Let me do it,” he said. “That is, if you don’t mind my invading your space. I wouldn’t want you to miss a minute of the sunrise.”
She started to argue on principle, but didn’t see the point to it. “If you don’t mind, then. The kitchen’s not exactly hard to find. There are cups and a ridiculously huge variety of coffee pods right by the coffee maker.”
She watched him go inside, puzzling over his amenable mood, then shrugged. It was something to be grateful for, so best not to examine it too closely.
When he returned, he took the seat next to hers on the lawn.
She gave him a quick sideways glance, trying not to linger too long on those impressive muscles. “Do you run every morning?”
He nodded. “Almost daily. It clears my head.” He gave her a wry look. “And before you comment, some days it does a better job than others. What about you? What do you enjoy doing for exercise?”
“I’ve never seen the need to be in such a rush, so running holds no appeal. I walk, something I need to get back to doing more before I lose the habit. Riding to work with you has changed the routine I rely on to keep me fit.”
“I haven’t noticed that it’s changed the way you look,” he said, then immediately looked as if he regretted his words.
“Was that a rare compliment I heard in there?” she teased.
“I suppose it was. Was I out of line?”
“There’s not a woman on this earth who doesn’t want to hear a bit of flattery from a man on occasion. The surprise is that you know how to do it.”
“To be honest, I’d almost forgotten how,” he conceded.
Kiera studied his face, then dared to ask, “Who was she, Bryan?”
He looked confused. “Who was who?”
“The woman who broke your heart. Or is that too personal a question for me to be asking?”
“I doubt I could stop you asking anything that’s on your mind, Kiera,” he said ruefully. “But it’s not something I care to talk about.”
“Perhaps it’s time you did,” she countered. “If not with me, with someone. Wounds that deep are dangerous if they’re allowed to fester. I know that as well as anyone.”
“You had your heart broken? Was it by the man who died?”
“I saw Peter’s death as an abandonment, to be sure,” she said. “But it was Moira’s father who broke my heart a very long time ago. I allowed it to change my life in ways I never should have. I lived half of a life for far too long and allowed my pain and bitterness to affect my children. And, so you know, I’ve only recently discovered the difference between the half of a life I led and a full one. It’s easy to mistake contentment for living. I’d hate to see you waste as much time as I did.”
Bryan stood then, and the rare companionable moment was lost, quite likely thanks to her pushing her opinions on him again.
“Thanks for the coffee, Kiera.”
“And the unwanted advice?” she asked. “I’m sorry for overstepping yet again.”
“I’ve heard that’s what friends do,” he said, though he didn’t look terribly happy about it.
“And are we friends now?” she asked, surprised.
“It looks as if we’re heading in that direction. We’ve shared a sunrise together.”
She chuckled. “You sound as if that’s only slightly more acceptable than the chamomile tea I forced on you.”
He laughed then. “It’s several steps above that,” he said. “I can see a time when I might come to appreciate the friendship, while that tea will never grow on me.”
Surprisingly pleased by his words, she nodded. “Then I’ll look forward to that day,” she told him.
As he walked away, she couldn’t resist one last comment. “Try not to burn the pub to the ground today.”
He turned back. “If that’s your way of wishing a friend a good day, it could use some work.”
The comment surprised a laugh out of her, then one from him, as well. The sounds blended in the morning air.
* * *
After the sunrise had concluded its show for the day, Kiera busied herself straightening up her little cottage, which took precious little time. Then, at loose ends and craving one of Sally’s croissants, which were almost as decadent as the morning scone and Devon cream she would have had back home, she walked into town.
Though she was later than most of the O’Brien women, she found Megan still seated at the large table in back, frowning over something on her laptop, a half-eaten raspberry croissant still on the plate beside her.
“Would I be interrupting if I sat here?” Kiera asked hesitantly.
Megan blinked and looked up, then smiled. “You’d be a welcome distraction, to be honest. Please, sit. You’re late this morning.”
“I took time to watch the sun come up, then did a few chores,” she said as Sally promptly brought her a cup of coffee.
“Anything else today, Kiera?” Sally asked. “I’ve a few croissants left.”
Kiera thought of the chocolate croissant she’d been craving, then glanced at Megan’s svelte figure and considered her own ample hips and shook her head. “This will do for now.”
“So is it your day off?” Megan asked when Sally had moved on.
“It is. And what explains you being here so late?”
“I’ve been dealing with a gallery in Atlanta. It’s run by an old friend, who doesn’t welcome no as an answer. He’s used to getting his own way.”
“What does he want from you?”
“A showing by your daughter, as a matter of fact. He’s upset that it wasn’t offered to him first, and even more annoyed that I can’t fit his gallery into her schedule for months.”
Kiera regarded Megan with surprise. “Is it because she’s already booked? I’ve had the feeling that beyond taking her camera out every day, she has time on her hands.”
Megan hesitated. “Only because that’s the way she wants it. I could have shows lined up for her back-to-back, but Moira refuses. She likes being home. She misses Luke and the baby when she’s on the road. I thought she might let me fit in a few more shows while you’re here, but now you’re on her list of excuses, too.”
“Me?” Kiera said, shocked. “Why?”
Megan smiled. “Because the other excuses were wearing thin, and she knew it. Now she has a fresh one, her mother visiting from Ireland and her wanting to spend every spare minute with you.”
Kiera had the audacity to laugh at that. “Now, that would be a first. She was eager enough to leave me behind in Ireland so she could run off to America chasing after Luke. And when we were together, I got on her very last nerve.”
Megan laughed with her. “When it came to Luke, that was love, Kiera. It doesn’t count and rules of logic don’t apply.”
Megan’s expression sobered. “Would you be willing to talk to her? Perhaps there’s something going on that she won’t share with me. If I knew what was holding her back, I could guide her career more effectively.”
“Is this Atlanta gallery so important?” Kiera asked, leery of unwelcome meddling in her daughter’s professional life.
“Not really. I can handle that just by telling my friend he was too slow trying to jump on the bandwagon, but there are others who are not so easily put off. And Moira needs to capitalize on these opportunities while they’re pouring in. Being the eccentric, reclusive photographer can create a certain sort of excitement and demand for a bit. Then experts at the most respected galleries find other artists who are more eager to be showcased and move on.”
Kiera stared at Megan. “That’s how they see Moira, as eccentric and reclusive?”
Megan chuckled. “It’s better than maddening, which is what the family used to call her.” She immediately looked guilty. “I’m sorry. You’re her mother. I should never have said that.”
“Not to worry. It’s a word that I might have used myself a time or two,” Kiera admitted.
“Will you speak to her?” Megan prodded.
“If the opportunity arises,” Kiera agreed half-heartedly. “But I won’t push. This is her career. It’s not my place to push. And, truth be told, she’ll only balk if I do.”
Megan nodded. “It’s a parent’s dilemma, isn’t it? We can see so clearly what’s best for our children, but trying to tell them what that is will only encourage them to do the opposite.”
“I could write a book on that,” Kiera said, thinking of her sons.
Megan studied her. “We’re not talking about Moira anymore, are we?”
Kiera shook her head. “You met my sons in Ireland.”
“And you’re worried about them?”
“At my wit’s end,” Kiera admitted. “To be honest, it was a blessing when Moira encouraged me to come here. I was getting nowhere with either of them, and the worry was almost more than I could bear.”
Megan gave her a knowing look. “Are you any less worried with the distance between you?”
“No, but at least I’m not wasting my breath trying to talk sense into them, only to have it thrown back in my face. I’ve had to bail them both out of trouble a time too many. They need to learn to deal with the consequences of their actions.”
Even as she made the very firm declaration, she couldn’t seem to stop the tears that welled in her eyes at the memory of walking away the last time they’d been jailed for their drunken behavior.
“Kiera, I’m so sorry,” Megan said, clasping her hand. “Is there anything I can do? Would you want them here? I’m sure Mick would find work for them.”
“As much as I’d like to see them have a fresh start, they need to learn their lesson first. And I wouldn’t want my father worrying every minute that they’d only continue their bad behavior here and bring shame on all of us.”
“People do deserve second chances, though,” Megan reminded her. “I got one from my family.”
“Were you spending your days drunk and your evenings in brawls that got you kicked out of every pub you entered?”
Megan winced. “It’s that bad?”
“Worse,” Kiera said. “They’re their father’s sons, no question about it. It’s clear I should have kicked Sean Malone to the curb much sooner.”
“I thought he left when they were very young,” Megan said. “That’s the impression Moira gave us. She said she never really knew her father at all.”
“Because I kept her away from him, but the boys went looking for him and found him to be a jovial drinking pal. Sean’s influence by then was far stronger than my own.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Kiera saw the genuine sympathy in Megan’s eyes and wondered at the friendship being offered by this woman whose life had been so different from her own. “Thank you for listening. It’s not something I’ve wanted to burden my father or Moira with.”
“Well, I’m around whenever you need to talk. And anything you tell me will stay just between us.” She glanced at her watch. “And now I’d better be getting to work. The gallery should have been open fifteen minutes ago.”
When Kiera would have stood, Megan shook her head. “Stay and have another cup of coffee and one of Sally’s chocolate croissants. I know those are your favorite. I’ve seen you looking longingly at my leftovers. Sometimes there’s just no reason for restraint. You’ll feel better with a little chocolate in your system.”
Kiera sat back, taking the suggestion to heart. “I believe I will.”
“I’ll tell Sally on my way out.”
Moments later, with a fresh cup of coffee and a chocolate croissant in front of her, Kiera realized she did feel considerably better than she had. She wasn’t sure if that was because of the chocolate, the friendship Megan had offered or simply unburdening herself for the first time about the sons who’d strayed so far from the men she’d hoped they’d become.