Angel's Peak (17 page)

Sean parked in the guest parking space nearest her condo and called her from the car. When she answered, he said, “Hi, I caught you at home. I’m in your parking lot. Do you have time for some company?”

“Sean? What in the world…?”

“I grabbed a break from the honeymooners’ cottage. I’ll be right over.” He signed off, grabbed his duffel and headed for a building on the far side of the complex’s largest pool. He had to admit, his mother had found one of the best locations available. But then she’d bought it when the development was new and she had been one of the first tenants.

Maureen met him outside her patio door. She looked as if she was ready to go out. “Sweetheart,” she said, opening her arms.

“Oh, nuts, I interrupted your plans,” he said.

“Nothing important. I played tennis this morning with the women’s group and this afternoon I was supposed to go to a bridal shower of all things! For a woman in her sixties! Who has a bridal shower in their sixties? I’ll take my gift over there and we’ll go out to lunch—how’s that? I had no interest in going, anyway. They’re going to play games.” She made a face. “That’s the best reason to be a man, Sean. No shower games.”

The shower games that came instantly to Sean’s mind had nothing whatever to do with hen parties and everything to do with Franci. He was going to be fired as a father within thirty days, he was sure. What he felt every time he thought of Franci was not paternal and had nothing to do with little Rose. He flushed in spite of himself.

“Are you all right, Sean?” his mother asked.

“Is it hot here?”

She laughed. “It’s cooling down, finally. Come on, come in.”

He threw his duffel just inside the door and she asked him if he’d like something to drink. Coke? Tea? “Any chance you have a cold beer on hand?” He was feeling a little weak, nervous and anxious to get the worst of this over with.

When they were seated in her living room, her with an iced tea and he with a cold beer, he asked her about tennis, about her bridge club, about her volunteer work.

She smiled at him. “I think you’ve just about exceeded your limit for small talk, Sean. And you’re fidgeting. Either you have to go to the bathroom or you have something to tell me.” She squinted at him. “Are you wearing makeup?”

He frowned, then thought back to the day before. “Oh. Sort of. Some kind of cover thing for my…rash. I guess I’m allergic to…must be pizza…”

“Pizza?” she asked, confused. “With your lifestyle? That would be tragic.”

“I don’t know what it was, but I broke out in a rash and it’s almost gone.” She had that pleased look on her face. She was expecting him to tell her something that would make her happy. He could only hope. “You remember Franci?” he asked. “That steady girl of mine a few years ago? Long, pretty hair?”

“Of course, though I think I saw her four whole times while you dated her. Five at the most. I liked Franci. And I thought you did, too.”

“I did, absolutely. I ran into her recently. I was out one night and, of all places, not far from Luke’s, she was out to dinner with friends. We’ve kind of resumed contact, you could say.”

“How nice for you. I never met many of your girlfriends, but of the few I think I liked her best. Nice young woman. Beautiful, too, if I remember.”

“Uh-huh. She cut off all that long hair,” he said, getting momentarily distracted. “She looks fantastic.” Maureen looked at him expectantly, and at that moment he really felt as if he was back in catechism, half expecting Sister Thekela to sneak up behind him and twist his ear for not paying attention.

He shook himself. “Listen, Mom, I never told you the whole reason we split up, me and Franci. I loved her and she loved me, but we weren’t in the same canoe. She wanted a commitment, a family, and I was running from marriage. I—”

“Good Lord,” Maureen interrupted him. “What did your father and I do to turn you boys off marriage?” she asked, half pleading, half annoyed. “I thought we had a good marriage, your da and me. He was so wonderful to me. I tried to take good care of him and you boys! It makes me wonder where we failed that the lot of you are terrified of marriage.”

“It wasn’t you and Da, Mom. It was the two marriages in the family and the Pope, if you get my drift. I mean, Aiden and Luke had a couple of short, train-wreck marriages that just about killed both of them, and then there was this whole Catholic thing of not recognizing their next marriages, if they were crazy enough to have them. I mean come on—Luke’s wife had another man’s baby and Aiden’s crazy Annalee was ballistic, totally certifiable. And they stuck by both those women as long as they could but, bottom line, the women left them. And still, no future marriage in the church? Come on! You know what kind of—” He realized he was on a rant and stopped himself. He hung his head. You didn’t knock the Catholic church in front of Saint Maureen. Without looking up, he said, “If I could have been guaranteed a marriage as sweet as you had with Da, I’d have jumped in. Those other things—they worried me.”

“You’ve always overreacted, Sean. Luke and Shelby were married by a priest! His marriage most certainly counts in the church!”

Sean flushed and hoped Maureen wouldn’t see it. Only the boys knew that Luke never even tried to get an annulment from his former wife. He told the priest his marriage to Shelby was his first. Luke was fine with that, but that knowledge would have had Maureen praying for his soul night and day for the rest of her life.

“It’s all right, Sean. Even I can admit Papa is sometimes a little behind the times,” she said. Papa was an affectionate nickname for the Pontiff. “He’s sometimes a little antiquated. I pray for change. My parish priest is very with it, you’d like him. He’d probably give you peace of mind.”

“Yeah, right. Well, back to Francine. She had an agenda I didn’t know about. She kept it from me. She had her reasons, I get that. But see…Okay, here’s the deal—we had an ugly fight. She wanted marriage and family, and I said I thought we were good just like we were. We said mean things. We split with hard feelings. I tried to catch up with her later, but the air force kind of scattered us—she got out and I got transferred. So when I saw her, it was so—” He stopped. He took a gulp of beer and swallowed hard.

“Mom,” he went on. “Franci was pregnant and I didn’t know it. She left because I didn’t want to marry her. Of course I would have if I’d known, which is why she kept it from me. She didn’t want it that way so she chose to do it alone.”

He watched the slow transformation of his mother’s face. When she was pregnant made her stiffen. Because I didn’t want to marry her made her glare angrily. Now she was maintaining that scary silence he remembered from his youth.

He brazened on. “Mom, I have a daughter. She’s three and a half. I’ve only known about this for a day. I don’t even know her birthday, but I made sure she knew I was her dad and that, from now on, she will always know how to find me, and I’ll be nearby whenever it’s possible. And yes, I asked Franci to marry me, make us a family, but she’s pretty leery of me. I’m going to have to convince both of them I’m worth the risk, I guess.” He swallowed. “You have a granddaughter, Mom. Red hair. Green eyes. Scary smart. Her name is Rosie. She calls herself the Wide Iwish Rose.”

Maureen wilted before his eyes. She got teary and, as redheads are wont to do, her nose got pink and the edges of her lips blurred as she pursed them. She sniffed back emotion to keep control. “How did you let this happen?” she asked, her voice catching.

“I didn’t let it, Mom. It took me completely by surprise!”

“How did you have an intimate relationship with her for…for presumably a long time, then refuse to marry her? Is that how you were raised?”

He sat forward. “No. I was raised a whole other way, which might have a lot to do with—Listen, it’s a different world than when you and Dad were young.”

“Not that different,” she said. “Tell me everything. And don’t hold back because I’m going to find out eventually.”

“Mom! I didn’t skip school or go to a kegger! Of course I’ll tell you everything. Thing is, I just found out. I spent a day with them—Franci and Rosie—and knew the first thing to do was tell you. Mom,” he said, scooting forward in his chair, “I have so much catching up to do. I don’t know anything about kids. I spent one afternoon with her and it brought me to my knees. Do you have any idea how exhausting a three-year-old is? Yeah,” he said, nodding at her, “you might know that, huh? Well, it’s going to take me a while to get a handle on this. Thank God I’m burning leave at Luke’s for another…God, less than six weeks now! It’s going to take me at least that long just to know how to—”

“Tell me about her. Did you bring a picture?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t even think that far ahead. But here’s what I’ll do—I’ll take a picture and send it to your cell phone the second I get back. You remember how I showed you to send the cell-phone picture to the computer? And I’ll take more digital pictures right away. But the first thing I had to do was get to know Rosie, and I have to keep getting to know her. And the second thing was tell you about her.”

“And Franci?”

He locked eyes with his mother. “I have to find a way to get us back together. I know she’s not like Annalee or Luke’s Felicia. Never a question about that, but I was still gun-shy back then. I’m not now—I’m going to court Franci and Rosie and hope for the best. There’s a lot to do. First thing—I need to set up a college account and find out what Franci needs for expenses. I have to take Rosie to Beale—she wants to see my plane. I have to learn how to play with her, talk to her, teach her things. I have to…”

But Maureen got up and left the room, walking down the short hall to her bedroom. Sean was stunned for a moment, confused as to why she’d walk out on the conversation. Was she driven to tears? Really pissed at him? He followed her, feeling panic rise inside. The door to her room was open. “Mom?” he said.

She came out of her walk-in closet, dragging her largest suitcase. She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him. “Sean, how did you let this happen?”

“I didn’t let it—I told you, I didn’t know!”

“Obviously you know what happens when you—”

“Stop!” he said, holding up a hand. “Stop right there. We both know the biology of it. I’m not talking about things that Franci would consider very personal, so back away from that, Mom. You know how children are conceived. We have one, Franci and me. I’m doing the best I can.” He stopped. “What are you doing?”

“I’m packing. I want to meet my granddaughter.”

“Mom, she’s a little girl. Aiden wants to meet her, too. So does Luke. I imagine Shelby is…Okay, wait. I was afraid of this—you can’t just rush in on her. We have to take this slow.”

“I’ve already missed her first three years!” Maureen said.

“Me, too! Now slow down!”

“I’m not in the mood to slow down! I want to meet her as soon as possible!”

“Listen, if you want things to work out for all of us, you have to let me…Okay, hold on a second.” Sean pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed up Aiden.

Aiden picked up. “I have a woman at eight centimeters, this better be good.”

“I’m with Mom,” Sean said. “She’s packing. She wants to meet Rosie right this second. I’m passing the phone to her. Talk her down.”

Maureen took the phone.

“Put it on speaker,” Aiden said to his mother. Then, “Sean, can you hear me?”

“I’m here.”

“Good. Let’s keep as much of this out in the open as possible. Secrets breed trouble, as you’re only too aware. Now, are you two fighting?”

“Not yet,” Maureen said. “I want to meet my only grandchild.”

“Are you in poor health?” Aiden asked.

“She played tennis this morning. She has a few more days in her, at least,” Sean answered, irritation in every word.

“Mother, I want you to wait until you’re invited. This small family has issues to sort through and a little girl who might be confused and upset by too much change.”

“But I have rights, too, Aiden! As a grandparent!”

“Indeed you do, and your grandparent’s rights will be respected. But the first thing to remember is that Sean and Francine are the parents and you are a relative. They are neither unfit nor negligent—you are in perfect health and can be patient. This isn’t a deathbed request.”

“But, Aiden, I—”

“You’re smarter than this. Do you want your granddaughter’s mother to love you? Don’t alienate her. She’s in charge. Let her know you accept that or, believe me, there will be trouble.”

Maureen sat wearily on the edge of her bed. “Of course, you’re right.”

“You can go as far as Luke’s house in Virgin River, Mom,” Aiden said more gently. “But if you’re very smart, you’ll ask Luke if one of those nice little cabins is available, or it’s going to be that much longer until you get the next grandchild. Do you remember what it was like when a mother-in-law visited?”

Maureen made a derisive sound. She remembered. It put quite a crimp in all the conjugal privacy. “Well, with five sons maybe your father’s mum didn’t visit often enough,” she said quietly.

Aiden and Sean both laughed at that. “Space and patience, Mother,” Aiden said sternly. “Or you’re going to muck up the whole business.”

“I just don’t understand how all this could have—”

“Enough of that,” Aiden said. “You know as much about that end of it as you need to know. Sean, get her a glass of wine and check in with Luke. Mother, you throw too much of your mom around and I’m not going to be able to save you.” Just then there was a loud sound in the background.

“Did someone just scream?” Maureen asked.

“More of an enthusiastic grunt,” Aiden replied. “I’m signing off. Behave yourself!”

The line went dead and Sean and Maureen just looked at each other. Finally Maureen spoke. “Well, I think calling in the reinforcements is a bit over the top.”

“For some reason, Aiden can get through to you like no one else can,” Sean said. “I think because he’s a doctor. The big show-off.”

“He’s always been the peacekeeper in the family,” she said. “Now, let’s go out to lunch, then we’ll call Luke. I bet we can get a flight out today.”

“You’re going to wait until the timing is right to meet Rosie?” Sean asked.