A Chesapeake Shores Christmas (14 page)

And then he walked out of the kitchen, leaving Megan feeling totally devastated in too many ways to count. She turned to her daughter.

“Abby, what did he mean? What kind of family investment scheme? I thought you said you put that group together with clients you had at work.” She should have known it had come together too easily.

“I did,” Abby said defensively, a telltale flush in her cheeks. “Everyone involved has other funds invested with me.”

“But your father, you and the others, you’re my backers?”

Abby nodded. “Even Gram chipped in.”

On some level, Megan couldn’t help but be grateful for the support they were all demonstrating, but on another, she felt totally betrayed. “Oh, Abby, how could you?”

“Because it’s a solid investment, and I didn’t want you to lose the chance to have the business you want.”

“No, what you really want is for me to go ahead with marrying your father.”

“So what?” Abby said defiantly. “Is it wrong to want to see the two of you happy again?”

Megan regarded her sorrowfully. “Not this way, sweetie. Not this way. I can’t accept that money.”

“You already have. It’s in the bank, in your name.”

“I’ll never touch a dime of it,” Megan told her. If there was no other way to finance the gallery, so be it.

As for Connor and his declaration that she’d lost his trust, she’d have to find some way to live with that, too. She knew that given the same situation, she would betray his trust again if it meant bringing Heather and her baby together.

13

M
ick walked into the kitchen on the morning after the boat parade to find the baby bundled up in his snowsuit and Connor carrying all of his son’s accumulated paraphernalia out to the car. Mick poured himself a cup of coffee and watched for a couple of minutes. When Connor returned for the third time, Mick closed the kitchen door.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Connor’s scowl deepened. “I don’t have time. I need to get my son out of this house.”

“Mind telling me why?” Mick inquired reasonably, though he had his suspicions.

“Because I can’t trust Mom not to sneak off with him to visit Heather.”

Mick nodded. “I figured as much. Now sit down, and take off the baby’s snowsuit before he sweats to death in here.”

“I’ll just have to put it back on when we leave,” Connor argued.

“
If
you leave,” Mick corrected.

“Oh, I’m leaving. No question about that,” Connor insisted.

“Then another half hour or so won’t make a bit of difference, will it?”

Connor heaved a resigned sigh and removed little Mick’s heavy jacket and pants, then cradled him in his arms. He regarded Mick with a look that dared him to come to Megan’s defense.

“How are you going to manage in Baltimore with a baby?” Mick inquired, clearly catching Connor off guard. “Have you made arrangements for a nanny?”

“No, but I’ll find someone,” Connor said confidently.

“By Monday morning?”

“I know a couple of sitters who can pitch in,” Connor replied, though he looked a little less certain. “We’ve used them before and I know they’re reliable.”

“Teenagers?” Mick asked, hazarding a guess.

“So what?” Connor said defensively. “Like I said, we’ve used them before.”

“Won’t they have school during the week?” Mick inquired innocently. “They’re not on holiday break yet, are they?”

Connor’s belligerence faded as he muttered a curse.

“Exactly,” Mick said. “Don’t you have a big case going before a judge on Monday?”

“Yes,” Connor admitted.

Mick shrugged. “I suppose you can always ask for a postponement, though clients who are ready to get their cases over with usually aren’t too happy about delays, am I right?”

Connor frowned at him. “What’s your point, Dad?”

“That caring for a child and trying to juggle a demanding career isn’t easy. It only works if you have backup. You have that here. You don’t have it in Baltimore.”

“I don’t trust Mom,” Connor reiterated.

“So you’ve said. I think what you’re really mad about is that Heather didn’t get in touch with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Connor said, then raked a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe. Mom doesn’t have the right to step in and make decisions about who gets to see my son.”

“Who has custody of the boy?” Mick asked.

The question silenced Connor, just as Mick had suspected it might. “I’m guessing from your silence that it’s Heather,” he concluded.

“Technically.”

“Then Megan wasn’t in the wrong for taking the baby to see her, was she? In fact, I’m guessing Heather could have stirred up a ruckus if she’d refused.”

“That’s not the issue,” Connor said. “Mom went without saying a word to me.”

“Were you here?”

“No, but she knows how to reach me. Come on, Dad, you know that’s no excuse for leaving me out of the loop. She didn’t want to risk having me say no, which is exactly what I would have said.”

“You’d have denied Heather the right to see her son?”

“No, I’d have insisted I be the one to take him to see her.”

“But Heather didn’t want to see you. She made that clear,” Mick said. “And that’s what’s stuck in your craw, isn’t it?”

Connor sighed. “Yes, dammit. Are you happy now?”

“No, I’m just suggesting you cut your mother some slack for doing what she thought was best for your son and for the woman you claim to love. I’m also asking that you think about the consequences of taking off from here without thinking things through.”

“You’re just worried that if I go it will be one more reason for Mom to postpone the wedding,” Connor said. “I suspect after last night, she’s having plenty of second thoughts.”

Mick scowled at the triumphant note in Connor’s voice. Megan had gone off to bed by the time he’d gotten back from the boat parade. If something else had happened, he wasn’t aware of it.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded.

“She knows you all put up the money for her business,” Connor said. “She wasn’t happy about it.”

Mick’s gaze narrowed. “And exactly how would she find out about that? I doubt Abby admitted it.”

Connor had the grace to look vaguely guilty. “I might have mentioned it when I was fighting with her about Heather.”

“Now, why would you do a fool thing like that? You had to know it would blow the plan sky-high,” Mick complained. He stared at Connor in dismay. “Of course, that’s it, isn’t it? You didn’t care about the consequences.”

“I was angry.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Mick demanded, then waved off the question. “Never mind. I’ll figure out some way to fix this. In the meantime, forget about me or your mother. Let’s focus on what’s best for that boy you’re holding. He needs to be right here with family until you and his mother work things out.”

Mick could see that Connor wanted to contradict him and walk out the door, but he also trusted that his son would do what was best for his child. As furious as he was about this entire mess, one thing Mick knew for certain was that Connor loved that boy.

“Okay,” Connor said finally. “But Mom and I have to come to some kind of understanding about Heather.”

Mick nodded. “I’ll leave that to you. I will warn you about one thing, though. Your mother identifies with Heather and her need to spend time with her child. She won’t turn her back on that.”

“Not even if I object?”

“Not even if you poke holes in her tires and try to keep her from driving to wherever Heather’s hiding out. She’ll find a way.”

“She sure wasn’t that determined to see her own children after she left,” Connor complained.

“Some of that was my doing. I was being just as pigheaded as you are right now, trying to keep all of you away from her. Oh, I said all the right words about sharing custody, but I made it too easy for you to refuse to go for visits. And she’s still dealing with regrets because she didn’t fight me harder. Even if it costs her a relationship with you, she’ll do whatever it takes to assure that Heather is able to see her son.”

He gave Connor a sly look. “And there’s another way to look at this, you know.”

“What’s that?”

“Your mother loves you. She’s probably the best advocate you could have with Heather right now. If there’s a way to bring Heather home, your mother will find it. And with Christmas right around the corner, something tells me she’ll be highly motivated.”

Connor fell silent, clearly pondering Mick’s assessment. “Okay,” he said finally and with obvious reluctance. “I won’t object to Mom taking the baby to visit with Heather. And I’ll apologize for some of the things I said last night, including letting the cat out of the bag about the financing.”

“You won’t regret it,” Mick told him, then stood up, satisfied that he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do here this morning. “Now I have a sudden desire for a big breakfast. Sally’s pancakes come to mind. Let’s bundle that baby back up and go into town.”

“Not me,” Connor said. “If I’m not going back to Baltimore, then I need to work on my case.”

“You want me to take the baby?”

“No. I’ll take him upstairs with me. He’ll probably nap long enough for me to get some work done.”

Mick nodded. “Okay, then. I think I’ll see if I can persuade your mother to come along. She and I haven’t had more than a few minutes alone in days. I need to try to soothe her ruffled feathers about the financing.”

Connor looked surprised. “But I thought …” He blushed, then said, “Aren’t you two back in your old room?”

“My sleeping arrangements are none of your business,” Mick said.

His son’s eyes lit up. “You’ve been banished to the guest room again? Uh-oh. What did you do?”

“I overplayed my hand, if you must know,” Mick said. “Which is just one more reason I need to get this wedding back on track. I assume you’ll stop being a horse’s behind and do your part?”

Connor laughed. “When you put the request so sweetly, how can I possibly refuse? Meantime, though, I can hardly wait to share this news with the rest of the family.”

“You do and you’re dead,” Mick warned.

That only made his son laugh even harder. Which just proved that on any given day, a man could win one battle and still lose the war.

Megan had spent an hour helping Nell arrange dozens of handcrafted items on the tables in the church’s parish hall. The annual holiday bazaar was one of the church’s biggest fundraising events. In addition to the crafts made by members of the church, there was a huge array of home-baked items, along with holiday-themed games for the children.

With only minutes until the doors opened, a half-dozen women were bustling around in the church kitchen to put the finishing touches on the baked ham lunch that would be available, along with sweet potatoes, macaroni and cheese, green beans and salad. She’d even caught a glimpse of several bright red cherry and lime-green Jell-O molds, as well. Some people would eat the meal right here, while others would take it home. The church even offered a delivery service for those who couldn’t stop by for the traditional meal.

Megan turned and caught Nell muttering under her breath. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you ever seen so many crocheted doilies in your life?” Nell asked. “Now, I can admire a bit of crochet work as much as the next person, but who has doilies all over the house these days? Trust me, these are going to be right here at the end of the day.”

“Maybe not,” Megan argued, though she tended to agree with Nell’s assessment. “A lot of people admire the handiwork and they want to support the church. Don’t they usually sell out?”

“Only after we’ve marked them down to some rock-bottom price, which ends up insulting Mamie Davis so badly she swears she’ll never make another thing for the bazaar. I swear, though, in the time she spends on all of these, she could make a gorgeous tablecloth that would bring in a fortune.”

“Why doesn’t someone tell her that?” Megan asked.

Nell gave her a disbelieving look. “Maybe you’ve forgotten Mamie. I’ve told her myself for at least ten years now, and she comes right back and reminds me that her doilies always sell out. Somehow she blocks out the part about us practically giving them away.”

Megan chuckled. “Well, at least this event gets most of the congregation involved, and the whole town loves it.”

She looked up as the first rush of customers came through the door, surprised to see Mick among them.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, not sure she was prepared to deal with him after what she’d learned last night.

“I came to steal you away to go to breakfast with me,” he said, winking at Nell. “You don’t mind, do you, Ma?”

“Not up to me,” she said.

“I promised your mother I’d be here to help today,” Megan said. “Besides, I had breakfast hours ago. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I was trying to persuade your son not to take his baby and run off to Baltimore,” Mick replied.

“Oh, dear,” Nell said. “Megan, run along. You probably need to deal with this.”

“It’s dealt with,” Mick insisted, then seemed to realize he’d just gotten in the way of getting what he wanted. “But we do need to talk about what happened. And I understand Connor blabbed about Abby’s investment group. We might as well get your reaction to that out in the open.”

Megan was surprised by his candor, but she couldn’t deny that she appreciated it. She regarded Nell worriedly. “Are you sure you can spare me?”

“I’ve been working this bazaar since the first one we had a couple of decades ago. I think I can handle one more. Besides, someone will be here to spell me in an hour.”

Megan nodded. “Okay, then, if you’re sure.” She gave Nell a hug. “Don’t forget to push those doilies,” she whispered. “Do not bring them home with you. I found at least a hundred in a box the other day. I assume those are from years past.”

Nell shrugged. “Somebody had to keep that woman from getting her feelings hurt, even if she is a stubborn old coot.”

Megan grabbed her folded coat and purse from under a table and joined Mick.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Megan said. “Did you want to look around before we go? Maybe buy a pie or cake for dinner?”

“Ma will be bringing home anything that’s left at the end of the day,” he said. “Not that there’s much left. Usually it’s just Hazel West’s apple pie.”

Megan regarded him with confusion. “What’s wrong with Hazel’s apple pie?”

“Nothing if you don’t care that her cats are wandering around on the counter while she’s making it. Once people found out about that, no one wants to eat it.”

Megan shuddered. “Yes, I can see why that might be a turnoff.”

The chill in the air outside felt good after being cooped up in the overheated parish hall. She took a deep breath. “It smells like Christmas. Don’t you think so?”

Mick gave her an inscrutable look. “What exactly does Christmas smell like?”

Megan struggled to put it into words. “The trees from the tree lot by the church, just a hint of snow even though there’s absolutely none in the forecast, the excitement in the air.”

He laughed. “You can’t smell excitement.”

“I can,” she insisted. “Ask any kid you know. I’ll bet Caitlyn, Carrie, Davy and Henry know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“You’ve always been like this around the holidays, haven’t you? You get a little crazy and sentimental.”

“Of course I do. I love everything about the season, including the carols that are playing in every store and blasting from the speakers on the town green.”

“You don’t get sick of hearing ‘Joy to the World’ and ‘White Christmas’?”

“How can I? They’re classics. I’m always sorry that we put the CDs away the day after Christmas and I don’t hear them for another year.”