Patrick's Promise (Cloverleaf #3) (6 page)

“Daddy, can we watch this movie?” Finn held up a plastic DVD case with a large dog on the cover. Fridays had unofficially become movie night, a tradition they’d started only a year earlier, where they would eat popcorn and watch any movie the boys could agree on. Patrick loved it and hoped it would be something they would continue to do for years to come.

“Yeah, I want to see that one with the big doggy on it, Daddy,” Connor added as he tugged on Patrick’s leg.

“Well, let’s eat some pizza and then we can watch that movie.” Patrick smiled at his two sons, who were looking up at him with hopeful blue eyes.

Both boys cheered and ran off toward the living room. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he had barely put the pizza in, so they still had nearly thirty minutes until they could start the movie. Patrick set about preparing a small salad to accompany the pizza. He also poured some milk for Connor and Finn, right as they raced back inside the kitchen.

“Is it movie time yet?” Connor whined.

“Almost. Let’s go wash up and eat.” Patrick ushered the boys to the sink and assisted them with washing their hands. Each boy took a turn standing on a stool so they could reach the sink. There was more splashing and playing with the soap than actual washing, but Patrick figured it was better than nothing.

Once they were as clean as they were going to get, Finn and Connor ran to their seats and watched as Patrick brought over their favorite overly colorful plastic plates. Patrick seated himself across from them and nursed a beer as he chewed on the frozen pizza. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as a pizza from Steve-O’s, but it filled the void.

The twins picked at the cheesy pizza and ate some of the salad. After getting the boys into the bath and into their pajamas, they finally nestled themselves on the couch and in front of the large TV. Patrick had a boy tucked on either side, each snuggled close with their fleece blankets. He was overheated; their small bodies radiated warmth, which made Patrick sweaty and a tad uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

They sat together, the boys watching an enormous, slobbering dog on the screen getting into all sorts of shenanigans. The scene, which was playing in front of them, showed two young kids trying to give the dog a bath, which leapt out of an overly sudsy tub, practically mowing down an overwhelmed mother. Finn and Connor laughed in unison.

“Daddy, that dog is being bad,” Connor noted, and giggled with delight.

Finn tugged on Patrick’s shirt. “We should a get a big doggy like that one. Can we get a dog, Daddy?”

“Yeah, we want a doggy. Can we each get a doggy?” they started to beg.

“Guys, maybe someday,” Patrick relented, but the boys continued to assault him with pleas of wanting a pet. They shouted out possible names and even where the animal would sleep.

Finally, Patrick was able to get them to return their attention back to the movie, but it wasn’t long before Finn asked another question. One that was far more difficult to answer.

“Daddy, will we ever get a mommy?” Finn’s eyes were wide with curiosity. Patrick decided it was best to just redirect his son’s attention for now by insisting that he was going to miss the best part of the movie. He was grateful his son didn’t press for an answer and happily returned his gaze to the TV.

Patrick could see their eyelids drooping as the movie continued to play. His own attention wasn’t on the troublemaking dog or the comically stressed-out family. No, his mind had wandered far away. He let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t quite sure what to tell his sons, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep avoiding their questions. Beth knew this was going to happen eventually, she knew everything, even as she lay dying. That’s why she’d made him promise.

Chapter Six

Amber

“Amber, dear. Come over here, please,” Lynn called out.

Amber grabbed a dishtowel and dried her hands as she headed toward the sound of her mother’s voice. The diner had finally slowed down, well, just enough to get caught up before the dinner rush hit.

“Yes?” She had come through the swinging doors that led from the kitchen to the serving area by the front counter. She spotted her mother and smiled as she moved toward her.

“There she is,” Lynn said. She was standing as usual with a coffee pot in hand, near the closest table to the serving counter, where three women sat. “Ladies, this is my daughter, Amber,” Lynn announced, wrapping her arm around Amber, bringing her closer. “Mary, you probably remember her. She was in Liam’s grade.”

“Oh yes, that’s right.” Mary gave Amber a wide smile. Her hazel eyes were kind, and Amber vaguely remembered her, but it had been ages since she had seen Mary O’Brien.

“Amber, you remember Mary O’Brien. That’s her daughter, Maggie, and that’s Liam’s fiancée, Rachel,” Lynn introduced Amber to the women.

“Nice to meet you all,” Amber responded politely, giving them a small wave as she continued to dry her hands nervously. She couldn’t quite place Maggie’s face but knew she had been the youngest of the O’Brien children. She wouldn’t have even attended school with Amber, and as for Rachel, she was a completely new face altogether. Pretty and confident, she smiled back at Amber and extended her hand across the table.

“Hi, I’m Rachel Montgomery.” Her tone was polite and direct, and there was a hint of authority. “I’m the principal at Birch Valley Elementary.”

“Really? Mr. Anderson finally retired,” Amber responded. She wasn’t all that surprised; the man had been in charge of that school since she was a student and had to be well into his seventies.

“Yes, I started after the first of the year,” Rachel added, and then her cheeks blushed a pale pink. Amber quickly did the math in her head and realized right away that Rachel hadn’t been in Birch Valley more than six months. And she was already engaged? It must have been love at first sight.

“And you’re getting married to…Liam?”

Rachel nodded, a happy smile playing across her lips. “Yes, actually in two weeks.”

“Wow, well, congratulations. A Fourth of July wedding, how neat is that?”

Lynn and Mary remained quiet as Rachel and Amber continued to chat. Maggie finally joined in the conversation, asking, “So, why did you come back home, Amber?”

The question, though well intended, felt like a swift punch to her gut. She looked at her mother, her expression marred with panic. They had agreed to keep her father’s illness quiet for awhile. With the way the town spread gossip like a raging wild fire in the dead of summer, they weren’t ready for all the comments, suggestions, and endless food that would more than likely be brought over. It was best to not to say anything until they knew exactly what they were up against.

“Do you have any children?” Maggie asked, taking a sip from her glass of ice water.

Amber stood there and carefully answered her. “Well, I came back to help out around here. My son and I, well, we lost my husband, Peter, a couple of years ago.”

Maggie’s eyes dropped down toward the table, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she lifted her glass and took a sip.

Mary frowned sympathetically. “Oh my, I remember when your mother told me. I’m so terribly sorry for your loss. He sounded like a wonderful man.”

Rachel quickly chimed in and steered the conversation in another direction, but she wore a confused look on her face. “How old is your son, Amber? Does he attend the elementary school?”

“No, junior high. He’s going to be thirteen soon.”

“I have a little girl, Melanie, she’s six. We’re expecting another little one this fall.” Maggie’s head pointed down to her belly, but the table was blocking the view of her stomach.

“That’s wonderful news. Congratulations to you as well,” Amber chirped. She glanced at her mother, almost asking permission to join the women at their table.

“Amber, dear, come sit. Lynn, you could do with getting off your feet for bit as well,” Mary insisted sweetly.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Lynn replied, motioning for Amber to take a seat as well.

The women sat and visited until customers started to trickle in for dinner. Amber felt like she’d hit it off with Rachel fairly easily; they were the same age and found they had quite a bit in common. Maggie seemed a little reserved and distant, but friendly enough, and asked Amber if she would like to grab coffee sometime. Maybe she just needed to warm up a little to her, but Amber hoped they could get to know each other.

It felt odd, sitting there with this group of women. She had lost contact with most of her friends after Peter died, since she’d retreated so far into her cave, only venturing out to get food and to take Dylan to school; she’d become somewhat of a hermit. She hadn’t realized how much she missed having friends. Just some female companionship to chat with about normal stuff. Maybe moving back wouldn’t be so awful if she could make friends again.

***

Patrick

The family was all seated around the large table, all in their usual places. It was loud, slightly chaotic, but suffused with love as the O’Brien family celebrated Father’s Day. Mary had prepared an incredible feast, almost Thanksgiving-like. She roasted a turkey to absolute juicy perfection, and she’d made her signature dressing and candied yams—basically all the trimmings imaginable.

Patrick eyed his sons and his brother, Daniel, as he noticed the makings of mischief and a possible mini food fight. Why Daniel insisted on being the one to instigate trouble and teach Finn and Connor the worst table manners was beyond Patrick. He loved that his brothers were the best uncles he could ask for, but Daniel tried his patience, especially during family dinners. “Boys,” he said in a firm tone, causing Finn and Connor to return to their food momentarily. Patrick gave Daniel a pleading stare, silently asking his brother to stop messing around.

Rachel and Maggie were chatting about the wedding. They were on the countdown now; only two more weeks until his brother, Liam, tied the knot. Rachel had shared earlier that her family was being a bit difficult about attending the ceremony, to the point where she was worried that they weren’t going to be coming at all. But her best friend, Chelsea, and her brother, Ethan, would be attending. Patrick nearly cringed when he’d heard Chelsea was coming up next week to help with the final wedding preparations. That woman had a hard time understanding the words “no” and “not interested”. Granted, she was a cute little thing, but definitely not his type. She didn’t cause the reaction inside of him the way Amber had, that’s for damn sure. He still hadn’t seen her since the day he changed that blown tire on her trailer, partially because he’d been avoiding the diner, which was not his usual style. He and Daniel used to get breakfast there daily, sometimes even popping in for lunch or a bite to eat after being out on a job site all day.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he almost didn’t hear Grandpa Paddy say, “So, Patrick, my boy, I want to raise my glass to you, raising two fine little lads, Happy Father’s Day to ya.”

Patrick smiled and thanked him. Grandpa Paddy, with his glass still lifted, said, “And to Liam, may you have many happy days and a lot of luck as a father.” He paused briefly before saying, “Michael, you have done a beautiful job with my wee lass over there…” Melanie giggled and stared at Michael with loving admiration. Grandpa Paddy looked wise with his shock of white hair and continued in his thick brogue. “May you and Maggie have many more blessings and a healthy baby this go around.”

“Aww, thank you, Grandpa Paddy.” Maggie had a wet sheen to her eyes. She got up from the table and gave her grandfather a kiss on the cheek.

Their father, Pat, cleared his throat, raised his own glass, and not to be outdone, said, “To my children, you have all made me so proud. It’s an honor to be your father.”

All the O’Brien siblings rose from their seats and gathered around Pat, all hugging him and showering him with affection. Even Rachel and Michael felt so moved by the toast that they wanted to show their appreciation for these men, who had a tremendous part in raising their significant others. As Patrick returned to his seat, he saw his mother dab her eyes with the bent corner of the linen napkin she clutched. In the O’Brien household, tears were shed often, mostly from laughing so hard until their sides ached, but sometimes it was the emotional moments such as this that showed the deep-rooted love that cemented their family together.

***

Amber

“Dad, did you want any more water, or can I get you anything at all?” Amber asked softly.

The morning of Father’s Day started out rough and only seemed to grow worse as the day progressed. Her father had spent most of the night ill beyond anything she had ever witnessed. The after effects of chemo were hard and violent, the process brutal. Her mother had already left for the diner, after Amber reassured her countless times that she was happy to look after her father and that it would do her mother good to get out of the house. Lynn had hesitated, but Amber insisted to the point where she started to push her mother out the door. She had also sent Dylan to go help out for the day, as she thought is was probably better for him to not see his grandfather in his weakened state.

Her father shook his head, his eyes closing from the exhaustion of spilling out the contents of his stomach for hours. His softly weathered face was ashen and pale, his gray hair matted and wild. This man, Dean Herrick, who Amber remembered had been strong and vital on their last visit when they came down to Portland for the holidays, was now reduced to a shell of his former self. She reached for his blanket and pulled it up, tucking it securely around his body. She removed the damp wash rag she had used to cool him down earlier that afternoon when the fever had relentlessly tormented him. Looking down at him, Amber had felt almost maternal toward the man who helped create her, who’d helped raise and protect her, who now needed her more than ever before. As she spent Father’s Day alone with her father, tending to him during this challenging time, and with the unknown outcome looming over them, she’d said a silent prayer. He didn’t deserve this; no one did.

Amber sat comfortably on the couch, her laptop balanced on her thighs as her fingers danced along the keys, words flowing in a fast rhythm, and she found herself escaping to the place she loved. A place where she could pour those bottled-up emotions out and turn them into something well, prettier than how she truly felt inside; that’s why her blog meant so much to her. It made her happy. She was swarmed by people eager to read her thoughts and ideas, who didn’t know of the raw and frayed emotions that had been welling up inside her. This was her alternate life, one that she had only dabbled in before Peter died, and one that she had fully immersed herself in when he was gone. She was editing a blog she had just created moments earlier, scanning it for errors and battling her self-doubt, when the front door opened. Her mother and Dylan worked their way past the small entryway and into the living room.

“Hi, guys,” Amber greeted them, looking up from the bright screen and readjusting the reading glasses that were perched on her face.

“Hey, Mom.” Dylan plopped down next to her on the couch. He looked utterly worn out. Her son wasn’t used to hard work, and running a business like the diner was one of the hardest jobs out there. He barely could keep his room clean, but an experience like this would hopefully teach him the benefits and rewards of hard work. Besides, she didn’t want her mother to be without an extra pair of hands.

Lynn stood there, a worried expression apparent in her eyes. She had called to check on how Dean was doing throughout the entire day. “How’s Dad?”

“He’s resting now. Not much has changed since the last time you called.”

She hung her head, visibly disappointed. “Okay, I’m going to go peek in on him.”

“I made soup. I had hoped to try to get something in him, but he wasn’t really able to eat. So there’s extra if you didn’t eat yet,” Amber offered. Her mother gave her a grateful nod and turned to go to the bedroom where Dean was resting.

Amber turned to Dylan. “You hungry, buddy?”

“No, I ate there. I’m so tired,” he complained as he yawned and scowled.

“It’s hard work, I know. That’s what I grew up having to do.”

Dylan tossed her a scared look. “Like, you had to do this all the time? God, Mom, that’s awful.”

Amber laughed. “It wasn’t all that bad. Looking back on it, I sort of miss it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t.”

Amber frowned. “Sometimes we don’t have much choice. It’s important to help your family out.”

They sat on the couch quietly, Dylan staring at the wall directly in front of them as Amber tried to finalize her blog post, but she was distracted by having Dylan next to her, knowing he wasn’t very happy. “Mom…”