Chances Are (14 page)

“Then maybe you should speak to Kelly herself.” Rose dried her hands on a pale yellow dish towel, then reached for the coffee mugs on the ledge near the window. “Find out exactly what happened.”

“It isn’t any of my business, Ma. It’s Kelly’s.”

“You’re going to be her stepmother. What she does is very much your business.”

“She’s done fine up until now without any help from me.”

“Aidan’s a great father,” Rose agreed. “He’s done a terrific job with Kelly. But maybe she could use a woman to talk to.”

“She has Claire.” Everyone knew Claire’s door had been open to Kelly from the day she was born. If Kelly needed to turn to a woman for advice, why on earth would she seek out Maddy when she had her aunt eager to help?

“Claire has five kids of her own to worry about,” Rose said. “Besides, she certainly didn’t do all that well with her first, did she?”

“Kelly’s like her sixth child,” Maddy pointed out. “And since you brought it up, Kathleen is pulling straight
A
s at Drew. Whatever problems she had, they’re all in the past.

“Be that as it may, we can’t deny Claire dropped the ball somewhere along the line. Drug problems in teens usually have their roots in family conflict, and God knows the O’Malleys know conflict.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil, but since when are you an expert on family relations? I don’t think the DiFalcos are exactly the poster family for harmonious relationships.”

“You don’t need a Ph.D. to see which way the wind is blowing.”

“Billy was still alive when Kathleen had her problems. What was he doing when this was going on? Why should Claire shoulder all of the blame?”

“You were away a long time, honey. A lot went on in this town during the fifteen years you were living in Seattle.”

“I know Billy O’Malley wasn’t exactly father of the year.” Or husband of the year, for that matter. “Seems to me he could have spent a little more time at home instead of—” She barely managed to bite off the words
screwing my cousin behind his wife’s back.

Rose watched her carefully, as if debating exactly what Maddy knew and what she wanted her to know. Clearly they were both aware that Maddy would soon be part of the family they were discussing and that her loyalties would be necessarily divided.

“I vote that we change the subject,” Maddy said with a slightly self-conscious laugh. “How about something less controversial—” she paused for effect “—like planning my wedding?”

Rose had the good grace to smile at her awkward attempt at extricating them from another discussion that was bound to end in raised voices and hurt feelings.

“You think I’ve gone overboard, don’t you?” her mother asked.

“Renting a hotel ballroom does seem excessive to me.”

“We have a big family. I would hold a reception here, but we would have to severely limit the guest list, and that would cause a lot of hurt feelings.”

Maddy gestured toward the beach. “Lots of space for everyone down there.”

“And I suppose you’d want a keg party and a clambake afterwards?”

“I’d compromise on champagne and lobster if you insisted.”

Rose chuckled as she pumped two shots of espresso into Maddy’s coffee mug then added the heated, frothy milk. “Cinnamon?”

“And some chocolate shavings. If I’m going to diet hell, I might as well enjoy the trip.”

Maddy grabbed a fistful of almond biscotti dipped in bittersweet chocolate and followed her mother out onto the back porch. The yard, the trees, the beach were all bathed in the soft blue of dusk. Maddy shivered in the late spring chill and cupped her hands around the mug of her mother’s perfect cappuccino. Hannah’s laughter floated toward them, followed by Priscilla’s soft yipping, and for a second she knew perfect contentment.

“I wish—” She stopped and shook her head. She didn’t want to break the spell.

Rose laughed softly. “That you could stop time.”

Maddy started in surprise. “How did you know?” She and Rose loved each other, but they were rarely in emotional synch.

“Because I felt the same way when you were growing up. I wished I could wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you safe from harm forever.”

“I never knew you felt that way.”

“You weren’t supposed to. My job wasn’t to hold on to you, it was to learn how to let go.” Another wistful laugh. “Obviously that was one part of mothering I excelled at.”

“I was never sure if you were relieved when I left or angry.”

“Relieved, angry, hurt, lonely, sad—it took me a long while to accept the fact that you had really chosen to build a life so far away from your family.”

“Dad is my family, too,” she pointed out gently. Her father and his late wife Irma had opened their hearts and their home to her.

She saw herself at seventeen, filled with emotions she couldn’t identify much less know how to handle. She had wanted to break free of her mother’s shadow, to leave the paralyzing boredom of home behind and strike out on her own. Choosing a college out west had been the greatest act of rebellion her family had seen since Grandma Fay got herself tattooed three months shy of her eightieth birthday.

“I know he is,” Rose said, “and I’m glad you had those years with them. That was the one thing that made it easier to let you go.”

“But I came back home again.”

“Yes, and it took you long enough.” There was no sarcasm in her words, none of the bitterness that had marked their conversations just one year ago. Just an openness and vulnerability that Maddy had never heard before.

Slowly, slowly she was starting to understand. The thought of Hannah, her beloved little Hannah, aching to be anywhere Maddy wasn’t made her want to weep.

It might be two steps backward for every three tentative steps forward, but those steps added up. Piece by painful piece, they were stripping themselves of their armor, revealing the tender flesh beneath. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t fun, but the rewards were incalculable.

The trees rustled as sparrows and mourning doves settled in for the night while one lone blue jay wheeled overhead on his way back to the nest. A car moved slowly down Main Street, the controlled rumble from its engine an odd counterpoint to the deep, restless sound of the ocean. Music spilled from an open window somewhere down the block. Those were the sounds of home.

She used to dream the sound of the Atlantic during her years in Seattle; that sound memory was her lullaby.

Rose shifted position just a tiny bit, and Maddy willed herself to relax as she leaned against her mother’s shoulder. They had spent almost thirty-three years as mother and daughter, and yet she could still count on the fingers of one hand the times when the other’s physical presence had been enough to provide comfort.

“Listen,” Rose whispered.

“The ocean?”

“Shh! There . . . !” Her mother, her practical, no-nonsense mother, sounded enchanted.

Maddy closed her eyes as Hannah’s voice, singing a song about Priscilla and her adventures as a sea captain, wrapped itself around her heart and around her mother’s as well.

“She’s just like you were,” Rose said. “I used to stand in the hallway and listen to you telling stories to your stuffed animals. I’ve often regretted that I didn’t write some of them down.”

“I thought you hated it when I made up stories.” When she and Hannah first moved back, Rose had worried incessantly about her granddaughter’s overactive imagination, an unpleasant reminder of past differences. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

“I was afraid you would end up one of those girls who lived their lives searching for Prince Charming. I wanted you to be able to face whatever the world threw at you without disappearing into some rosy fantasy world. I wanted you to be strong.”

“You can be strong and have an imagination.”

“I know that now,” Rose admitted, “but the world was a different place thirty years ago. I wanted to make sure you were prepared to make your own way.”

“Oh, I was prepared. I got the degree. I got the job. And then I got the ax.” Not at all the scenario of her mother’s dreams. Or her own, for that matter.

“The company you worked for went out of business. You can hardly be blamed for that.”

“Want to know a secret?” Maddy asked as darkness tucked itself around them. “The day they let me go was one of the happiest days of my life. I felt like I’d been let out of prison.”

“I would have been terrified in your shoes,” Rose said. “That steady income was my security blanket. Lucy wanted me to quit and go into business with her at the dress shop, but the thought of losing my regular paycheck was more than I could handle.”

“I probably should have felt the same way,” Maddy said, “but I was so excited that I would be able to pursue voice-over work that I think my brain shut down.” The terror came later when she looked at her bank balance and Hannah’s growing needs.

“That took guts,” Rose said, and Maddy steeled herself for the sting behind the words, but the sting never came. “I always regretted not joining Lucia when she wanted to open a second dress shop down in Cape May.”

“I haven’t exactly been a rousing success on the radio.”

Her weekly on-location show had been nicely received, but the New York and Philly markets weren’t exactly beating down her door. She was Paradise Point’s favorite local show. Unfortunately, she was also their only local show.

“You’re following your heart,” Rose said. “It took me almost sixty years to finally realize how important that is.”

“And it only took me thirty-three to realize you can’t feed your baby on a diet of nothing but dreams. There’s a real world out there, and it’s not going to go away.”

“I’ve never heard you talk that way before.”

“It doesn’t mean I’m giving up my dreams,” Maddy warned. “I’m just rearranging them.”

“I wouldn’t want you to give up anything.”

“Aidan isn’t rich. I see how hard he works to keep O’Malley’s on track. We have Kelly and Hannah to worry about, and we hope to have children together. You can’t make that happen on dreams alone.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than explain a concept to Rose.

“I think I can help.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“I’m not offering you any. What I’m offering you is a future.”

“I’m not cut out for innkeeping.”

“I’ve noticed,” Rose said evenly. “We all have. That’s why I want to talk to you about managing Cuppa.”

Her mother talked, and she listened.

“. . . ready to open by July fourth . . . neither one of us has time or energy to . . . a future in . . . part ownership down the line then maybe . . .”

Was this the way lottery winners felt when they heard their numbers being read on television? She felt light-headed, and for a moment she was afraid she was about to hyperventilate with excitement. The more her mother told her about the idea, the more she liked what she heard. She would ostensibly still be working for Rose but with a degree of autonomy impossible at The Candlelight.

She would be the one responsible for charting a course for the tea shop, setting goals, digging roots deeper into Paradise Point soil. The venture would play to her strengths and call upon her to bolster her weaknesses. Both her practical and her creative sides would be called into play, and the idea of building a successful business in the town she had run away from all those years ago was irresistible.

“. . . the details from Olivia . . . she has all of the financial data . . . the architectural specs . . . you’ll want to go over all of it before you—”

“Yes.”

Rose stopped midsentence. “You haven’t spoken to Olivia yet. She’s the one with all of the—”

“I’ve heard enough to know I want to do it.”

“This is a big decision, Madelyn. It requires some thought, some research. You can’t—”

“I can do this, Ma.” She tried to ratchet down her enthusiasm, but it was impossible. “With you and Olivia handling the decor, it sounds like a piece of cake.”

They discussed the interior setup, permits, and staffing needs.

“I wish I could steal Aunt Lucy away from you,” Maddy said. “Her scones are to die for.”

“And she belongs to The Candlelight,” Rose said, laughing. “Olivia wants to speak with Claire about signing on.”

“I knew there must be a catch somewhere.”

Rose’s left brow arched. “Claire is a problem?”

Time to regroup. “You know what I mean. Claire has a job. She’s co-owner of O’Malley’s.”

Rose considered her for a moment before she spoke. “Olivia thinks Claire is ready for a change. We plan to speak with her tomorrow night before the poker game.”

It all sounded a little vague to Maddy, like they wanted Claire to function as a combination hostess/pastry chef. Nobody in her right mind would take on two demanding jobs for one salary.

“I don’t know what Aidan’s going to say about this.” She tried to keep her tone neutral and was surprised to discover how hard that was to do. “He and Claire have worked together for a long time.”

Rose regarded her carefully. It was clear her mother found neutrality every bit as difficult as her daughter did. “Do you think there will be a problem?”

“I have no idea.”

“You don’t look terribly pleased at the thought of working with Claire.”

“I like Claire just fine, but I don’t think I’m at the top of her hit parade.”

“You had a disagreement?”

“No disagreement. It’s just that—” She searched for a way to explain a feeling that had only begun to take shape. “I don’t know. I always thought she was fond of me, but lately she’s been a little chilly.” She met her mother’s eyes. “Actually, it’s ever since Aidan and I announced our engagement.”

“She’s jealous of your relationship with Aidan. That’s understandable.” Aidan had been her mainstay since Billy’s death.

Maddy laughed. “Actually, I think she’s jealous of my relationship with Kelly.”