Hometown Holiday Reunion (9 page)

“Dinner will be a while longer, so have some cookies.”

Glancing over to the long counter where containers of desserts were lined up like soldiers, he grinned. “I thought I smelled fresh snickerdoodles when I walked in. Did you make those for me?”

“And who else would I be making them for?” she demanded in a voice that still carried a tinge of Irish lilt.

“What would you have done if I'd decided to go to Rockville and catch a movie instead?” he asked as he took a small plate from the stack and piled on half a dozen cookies that were still warm from the oven and all but fell apart when he touched them.

“I'd just send them back into town with Erin, and she'd make sure you got them.”

Cam wasn't used to having people want to take care of him, and while it wasn't a major deal, her sweet gesture touched him deeply. Maggie had sharp eyes, and she didn't miss much, so to conceal his sudden rush of emotion, he popped a snickerdoodle into his mouth.

“Oh, man,” he groaned in appreciation. “I forgot how good these are.”

“I'm glad you still like them. There's four dozen in the pantry for you to take home.”

He felt like it was Christmas morning all over again. “Seriously?”

“Yes, but you have to share.”

“There's always a catch,” he grumbled, but he couldn't stop grinning. “Thanks, Maggie.”

“You're welcome.” Setting down her oven mitts, she poured him a tall glass of milk and set it on the oversize island for him. Then she pulled up a stool and rested her chin on her hands. “Now, tell me what's making you so angry.”

“I'm not—” She tilted her head in a chiding gesture, and he sighed. “Okay, you got me.”

And because you couldn't sit in Maggie's kitchen pounding down cookies and milk and not talk to her, he spilled his guts. He heard the usual bitterness and disgust, but other things he hadn't even realized he was feeling came pouring out. Things like hurt and regret, and a longing for how life had been when he was a child.

Before David Stewart had decided he didn't want a family anymore and walked away. The idea of opening up his family to that kind of heartache again made Cam so furious, he didn't know how to express it coherently.

When he was finished, it occurred to him that his head had slowly been drooping until he was staring down at the scarred butcher block under his empty plate. Out of sheer, stubborn pride he lifted his chin and looked at her. Maggie's eyes reflected the misery he'd grown up wrestling against, and for some reason, it made him feel slightly less pathetic.

“You need more cookies,” she announced blithely, taking the plate to refill it. When she handed it back to him, she gave him a gentle, encouraging smile. “You know what you have to do.”

“Yeah,” he confided around a mouthful of cookie. “Doesn't mean I like it.”

“This isn't about you, Cam. It's about what your mother wants—and needs—right now to ease her mind. Connie was right to call your father, but I agree that she should've warned you ahead of time. Does that help?”

Not really, but she'd been so patient and understanding, he didn't have the heart to tell her so. “A little, I guess. Thanks for listening.”

“Remember, you don't have to forgive him. You just have to tolerate him.”

Cam gave her a long, suspicious look. “That doesn't sound like you.”

“Forgiveness isn't easy, especially when the hurt runs so deep. It might not even be possible for you, at least, not yet. I raised four hardheaded children, and if I've learned anything, it's that you can't convince someone to do something they're not ready for.”

“A thousand years might do it,” he joked with a wry grin. “Then again, maybe not.”

“I vote for not,” a sarcastic voice chimed in from behind him, and he turned to find Erin coming through the doorway. Settling on the stool beside him, she added, “I'm surprised to see you here. Whatever you're talking about, you're too stubborn to give in. That's one thing I always liked about you.”

“Seeing as Kinleys are genetically obstinate on both sides,” he fired back, winking at Maggie.

“You Scots are no more tractable than we Irish are,” Maggie assured him as she headed toward the pantry. “You just roll your words differently.”

When she was gone, he turned to Erin. “Well, she's got a point there. You could argue with my great-uncle Magnus forever and hardly understand a word he was saying.”

“Good strategy on his part. That way, he was never wrong.”

They both laughed, and he nudged the plate toward her. “Cookie?”

“Sure.” She didn't inhale it the way he had, and in between nibbles she asked, “Feeling better?”

“Some. I forgot how easy your mom is to talk to.”

“She's pretty much heard it all, so she's a good sounding board. I saw your expression when I walked in here, and I'm guessing you didn't like hearing what she had to say.” Cam nutshelled their conversation for her, and she nodded solemnly. “I wouldn't like it much, either, but she's right, about doing it for your mother. If it's that important to her, you have to make it happen.”

Something in her tone caught his attention, and he took a shot. “Is that what she told you about meeting Parker's mom?”

“Yeah,” Erin grumbled while she filled an empty glass with milk. “Parker's situation is dicey enough as it is, and if I can get on this woman's good side by caving in to what she wants, that's what I have to do. Sometimes being a grown-up is the worst.”

“I'll drink to that.”

They clinked glasses in a morose toast over a childhood snack, and it dawned on him that he'd just shared a pleasant, no-strings-attached moment with Erin Kinley. Stranger things had happened to him, he supposed, but at the moment he couldn't think of any.

“Y'know,” he heard himself saying, “I could go with you if you want.”

“Why would you offer? It doesn't sound like a fun day for you.”

“Well, I assume your mom was planning to go along for moral support, but it'd be easier for me than for someone who's never been there.”

Erin's eyes nearly bugged out of her head, and her mouth dropped into a shocked O. “Who did you know in prison?”

“An old girlfriend in Ohio. Long time ago,” he added just to be clear. Then, because he couldn't resist yanking Erin's chain, he said, “She wanted me to water her plants for three to five years.”

“You're hopeless,” she hissed, shaking her head in a maternal gesture he assumed she'd picked up from Maggie. “Did you really go?”

“Like I'd lie about visiting someone in prison. It was only once, but I know the drill, so the security and rules won't freak me out. If you want some company, I don't mind going with you.”

It struck him as being an odd thing to say, and judging by the flabbergasted look on Erin's face, she thought so, too. But then a grateful smile replaced the shock, assuring him that his crazy proposition had been worth the risk.

“That would be great, Cam. I know Mom will really appreciate not having to do that.”

“For the woman who still makes me my favorite cookies? No problem.”

Actually, he would've done it for Erin, no perks needed. But since he still wasn't sure why, he decided to keep the comment to himself.

* * *

Scrounging around in a cupboard, Erin found some wheat crackers and a wax-coated wedge of unpronounceable cheese in the selection one of her aunts had sent them for the holidays. While she and Cam dug in to their snack, she casually mentioned, “I've been thinking about the design for Pampered Paws.”

“Aw, man,” he groaned, although his dark eyes twinkled in fun. “I know that look. Whenever you start thinking, it always means more work for me.”

Her first impulse was to stick her tongue out at him, but she managed to stop herself. He'd been incredibly helpful already, and hadn't asked her for anything except to pay for the materials. But she couldn't keep all that annoyance in, so she settled for rolling her eyes. “Don't be so dramatic. I'm perfectly willing to give you a hand.”

“You say that like it's a good thing.”

“Anyway,” she spit out through a totally fake smile, “I was thinking it'd be nice to have a spot where people can play with some animals. I don't want to house live animals at the store, but we can bring in puppies and kittens from the rescue center once in a while so folks can see them and maybe take a few home when they leave.”

Still munching, he hummed in a way that she took to mean something like “interesting.” After swallowing, he said, “That could work. You could even make it a promotional event that lures folks into the store to see what's new.”

“I like that idea,” she approved, dipping a cracker into a tin labeled Hummus for the Holidays.

“Yeah, I get 'em once in a while.”

She didn't doubt that in the slightest, but she'd never tell him so. He'd go back to being intolerable again, and then she'd be hard-pressed not to strangle him. “What else have you got?”

He started to answer but a sleek black helicopter floated through the wide doorway to hover over the breakfast bar. Over the speaker, she heard Parker's voice. “Requesting cookie load for search and rescue crew. Over.”

“Josh got him that thing for Christmas,” Erin explained as she went to fill the order. “He's been having a blast playing chopper pilot.”

“Josh or Parker?”

Laughing, she replied, “Both.”

Just as she was about to drop some cookies into the toy's payload basket, Cam stopped her with a mischievous grin. “Base to Chopper One. Please clarify type of cookie required. Over.”

“Oatmeal. Over.”

Cam gave Erin a quizzical look, and she realized that his question was aimed at trying to find out who was in charge of the remote control. Grinning, she shook her head and murmured, “Parker likes chocolate chip.”

“Chopper One,” he barked in a commanding tone. “Have you been hijacked?”

There was a pause, then a chuckle that was much too deep to be her son. “Cam, what're you doing in there?”

“Guarding the cookie supply. If you ask for snickerdoodles, we're gonna have a problem.”

Now that she knew the real story, Erin added cookies for Parker and Abby and announced, “Payload complete. Back to the sky with you.”

“You're supposed to say ‘over,' Aunt Erin,” her niece politely reminded her.

“If Grammy finds out you've been sneaking cookies right before dinner, it'll all be over.”

“Roger that,” Josh broke in, and the copter banked into a neat turn and headed back to the living room.

After peace had been restored, Cam sat back in his seat and folded his arms in a classic I'm-listening pose. “Go ahead.”

It took Erin a minute to get back into designing mode, but by the time dinner was ready, they'd sketched out how to best use the enormous space she had available for her store.

“You're really good at this,” she complimented him while she helped ferry hot dishes over to the always-crowded table.

“Everyone's got a knack for something,” he replied with a shrug. “I guess building stuff is mine.”

He seemed uncomfortable with her praise, which was the last thing she'd have expected from him. The guy she recalled so vividly had been confident to the point of arrogance, and he'd never given her the impression that he had an ounce of humility. Then again, they were older now, and he'd been through a lot recently. Sad as his mother's condition obviously was for him, maybe coping with it had the unexpected benefit of bringing him down to earth a little.

When all nine Kinleys were around the old oak table, Erin took a moment to drink in the sight of the people she loved more than anything in the world. As head of the family, Mike sat in the “dad” chair now. At the foot, Maggie began filling plates and passing them around while three different conversations continued from wherever they'd left off in the other room. The one that interested Erin most was about the big shindig planned for New Year's Eve, and she turned to Parker.

“This is your first New Year's here with us. Any requests?”

He considered that for a few seconds and then his eyes lit up. “I've heard about the ball that drops in New York City, but I've never seen it. Can we watch it on TV?”

“You think you can stay awake that long?”

“Sure. Jamie and Dennis are my age, and they're going to.”

Kid logic, she thought with a grin. You had to love it. She vaguely remembered being that way, before life had taught her that things didn't always turn out the way you want them to. Fathers died suddenly, boyfriends decided they'd rather be with someone else. Little boys with troubled blue eyes melted your heart and made you want to wrap your arms around them so no one could ever hurt them again.

It must be the time of year
, Erin thought as she blinked away a rare rush of tears. The sentimentality surrounding the holidays had the tendency to make her think too much about everything.

Something brushed her leg, and she glanced down to see Abby's golden retriever, Charlie, pawing at her knee, a woebegone look on his furry face. Behind him was Mike's old terrier Sarge, sitting at a polite distance but with the same begging look in his eyes. Making sure Mom was engrossed in the discussion about the leaky attic roof, Erin sneaked a piece of turkey to each of the dogs.

“Softie,” Cam teased, nudging her shoulder with a grin.

“I can't help it,” she murmured back. “They look so pitiful.”

“The kids've been feeding them over here, so they're hardly starving. Those hounds have you pegged but good.”

“What can I say? I love animals.”

He glanced around her to the smug-looking dogs. “From the looks of it, they love you back. Speaking of which, Bekah was talking about your new residents at the rescue center earlier. How're things going over there?”