The Calendar of New Beginnings (9 page)

The first burn of embarrassment heated his cheeks. God, when Ellen said it that way, he felt like he was back in high school. “Indeed it has. Is she around?”

“Sure. I’m trying to talk her into going to the salon to get her nails done.”

He knew how well that was likely to go over. Lucy had never been much for girly things, even when it came to summer pool parties or prom.

“Must be a quiet day at the hospital,” Ellen continued, her usual chatty self.

“It’s been pretty normal,” he responded, hoping he wouldn’t have to keep up the small talk much longer. “Are you getting Lucy? I only have a short break.”

“Sure. Lucy! Andy’s on the phone for you.”

That woman could puncture an ear drum.

Lucy answered a couple of moments later. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Andy replied, sitting back in his chair. “You’ve survived the morning, I see. No mention of you on the police scanner yet.”

“It was touch and go there for a while,” she said in a quieter voice. “Give me a moment to get back to my room.”

Yeah, Ellen would listen to every word if she could.

“All clear,” Lucy said in a brighter voice. “How’s it going, Andy Cakes?”

He ignored the endearment. “Fine so far. I realized I didn’t have a way to reach you beyond Skype. Have you bought a cell yet?”

“Yeah, in Denver. You ready for it?”

“Shoot.”

She dictated the number, and he plugged it into his cell and texted her immediately. A reply text came a second later with a smiley face and a
You know who.
He was smiling as he sent a matching emoticon back to her.
 

“My mother is trying to convince me to get a manicure and a pedicure,” she said in an aggrieved tone. “She refuses to recall how much I hate those kinds of things. I need to get my own place fast.”

“When are you looking at places?”

“I have a few lined up for this afternoon. I’m telling myself not to settle for something I don’t like just to get out of here. I love my mother, but…”

“I know,” he answered because she’d been saying the same thing all her life. “Are you feeling all right? I mean, is there anything you need?”

Silence permeated the line for a moment. “I told you. I’m fine. You went home and worried, didn’t you? Please tell me you haven’t called my eye doctor in Denver.”

It was a low point to realize he was so predictable.
 
He didn’t tell her about the research he’d done online. “I managed to talk myself down from doing any such thing, but Lucy, I
am
worried.” More so after seeing she was right. There was nothing they could do for traumatic optic neuropathy.

“I won’t tell you what to feel, Andy Cakes. I gave up feeling responsible for other people’s reactions a long time ago. But there is something I was wrangled into telling you. It’s a long story. Do you have any time to get together in the next few days?”

He sat up straighter in his chair. “You have something to tell me? Why do I sense the long shadow of our mothers here?”

She laughed. “Because you’re smart. It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just…weird and a little harebrained…and kinda sweet.”

“They picked out a date for us to get married,” he said easily, laughing too.

“That would be the day,” she responded as easily. “You’re right, though, they have grand plans for us. You know how they are.”

He glanced down at the family photo on his desk. Kim had her arms around him, and he was holding a newborn Danny. They were gazing at each other, cherishing the miracle they’d made. God, he couldn’t imagine ever looking at someone like that again. And making a child with someone again… There was no bigger commitment.
 

His spirits sank, and he felt sadness pull at him as he thought about being alone for the rest of his life. Of course, Kim hadn’t wanted him to stay alone forever. In the letter she’d written before her death, which she’d instructed him to open one year after her passing, she’d asked him to find love again.
That
was the kind of woman he’d married. The kind of woman he’d lost.

It broke his heart every time he read that letter. He’d showed it to Natalie a couple of months back, right after Blake had returned to her life. He’d made his sister a deal that day. If she’d give Blake a chance, he’d try dating again. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but since Kim was the one who’d asked him to find love again, he’d squared his shoulders to begin the quest.

Natalie had fallen back in love with Blake, so at least one of them had found a happy ending. So far, Andy had only gone on a couple of dates. Each one had only made him feel more hopeless about the whole love thing. Truth be told, he really didn’t want to date anyone. He wasn’t any good at dating, which Kim had known all too well. She was the one who’d needed to make the first move with him. He’d been too intimidated by her to imagine she’d return his interest.

“Our mothers do want us to end up with awesome people,” he murmured into the phone, finally looking away from the photo. “We’ll just have to get everyone used to seeing us as friends again. It’ll only be as hard as we make it.” Saying the words made his chest loosen up immediately.

“Exactly! We did it before. We’ll do it again. Some people need more hobbies, if you ask me.”

He completely agreed. The whole thing was embarrassing. He didn’t need his mother and Ellen to get involved in his struggle. Besides, truth be told, he didn’t really need matchmaking help. It didn’t happen too often, but every now and then he’d received an offer for coffee, or a woman would make a casual mention of bringing by dinner for him since he was all by his lonesome, raising such a sweet little boy. But it was never the right woman, and he didn’t know if there could be another right woman.

“How about we meet at Hairy’s tonight?” he said. “It will make your dad happy. Plus, I can bring Danny if we go early.”

“Yeah. About that. I won’t be able to tell you in front of Danny.”

“Is it
that
bad?” he asked, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his desk. “You have to tell me now. I can’t wait.”

“No way,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ve decided the only blessing in this whole situation is seeing your face when I tell you.”

That didn’t sound good. “When are we meeting then? I get off at five and could meet you at Hairy’s by five thirty. Maybe I’ll bring one of my siblings to keep an eye Danny so you can tell me the big secret.” And since her refusal to tell him said secret was giving him heartburn, he added, “Of course, that’s only if you can drag yourself away from the salon. I can’t wait to see your nails. What color are you going with?”

“I hate you,” she said without heat. “You’re a doctor. You’re supposed to be compassionate.”

My, she didn’t know doctors very well, did she? Most of them were complete assholes. He’d always prided himself on not having a God-complex like some of his colleagues.

“I’m only compassionate to those in need,” he said, checking the time. “Ellen might try and prod you toward her way of thinking, but she still loves you. Remember that. How’s that for a dose of compassion?”

“You’re supposed to be compassionate toward me. She wants me to be someone I’m not. I don’t know why she keeps trying. I
like
who I am.”

“So do I. Look, I need to run. Literally. Matt is meeting me for a run through the park on my lunch hour. I need to finish up some more paperwork before I go.”

“Have a great run. See you at five thirty.”

After all her time away, darn it if he didn’t like the sound of that. “Make sure to wear open-toed shoes so I can admire your nail polish,” he joked.

“I’m going to kill you, Andy Cakes,” she said in a dark voice. “As revenge, I’m going to come up with an even more colorful description of the plan our mothers have cooked up.”

“Do your best. Later, alligator.”

“After a while, crocodile,” she finished and hung up.

Sitting back in his chair, he wondered again what Ellen and his mother had planned.

Truth be told, it really didn’t matter. Nothing could dim his joy that Lucy O’Brien was back in town.

Chapter 6
      

By the time Lucy drove down Main Street later that afternoon to meet Andy, she had lost one skirmish and won a much larger battle. While her toenails were a glittery pink, she had a new place to hang her hat while she was in Dare Valley.
 

After seeing four rental properties, she’d selected a quaint cottage up in the mountains surrounded by lush trees and craggy rock walls. The owner, Mrs. Weidman, an eccentric elderly woman who’d moved in with her son for health reasons, had described her place as a tad too old-fashioned for students at Emmits Merriam. Lucy remembered seeing her at some town functions growing up, but she’d never really known the family.
 

The house was a decided change from all of the blank, white-wall spaces she’d occupied while traveling overseas. Fully furnished with a Victorian couch—her mother had described it as mustard-colored, but to her it had looked brownish—in the lavender parlor and a brass bed in the light-pink master bedroom, it suited Lucy perfectly. The second bedroom, painted a light blue, would be her home office. In the small cottage, Lucy felt like she was inside a cupcake.

After dropping her mother off at the house for a power-walking date with April, Lucy drove to her father’s bar. Dare Valley’s stores seemed more prosperous than ever, what with the fresh paint, power-washed brick, and shining windows. People mingled on the street, running errands and sharing gossip. Parking was a pain, so she ended up choosing a spot three blocks away. She almost laughed at herself for being annoyed—parking spaces and paved roads were luxuries in many parts of the world, but it was funny how quickly a person started to take them for granted.
 

She walked down Main Street to Hairy’s. Growing up, this bar had been her second home. She traced the green sign on the door announcing that an Irish band called Maddie’s Shillelagh would be playing this Saturday. The door chimed an Irish jig when she opened it.
 

The hardwood floors, dark mahogany bar, and carved bench seats made her think of the pubs she’d crawled through in Dublin on past vacations. The smell of strong stout and freshly fried fish and chips teased her nose. She could no longer distinguish between the two shades of green on the walls—lime and Kelly—but before she had time to stew over it, a familiar voice called out her name.
 

Her dad strode toward her in jeans and a black T-shirt with a green logo that read “Irish Superhero.”

“Hey everybody! My daughter is back from saving the world!” He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her cheek as the small crowd of regulars cheered from their posts all around the bar. “Welcome home, sweet girl.”
 

She gave him a bright smile. “I was just thinking about all the afternoons I did my homework here.”

He grinned back, the laugh lines around his mouth deepening. “Pretty much whenever your mother was taking some class or another.”

Yeah, her mother had tried everything from stained glass to wicker furniture making. Of course, Lucy had also gone over to Andy’s house a lot too. Maybe that was why she had the ability to feel at home anywhere—she’d started living a vagabond existence at a young age.

“I’ve missed this place, Dad,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder after he situated her on a bar stool in the corner. “I’ve been to lots of pubs around the world, but there’s no place to match yours.”

He kissed her temple before walking around to the back of the bar. “You’re partial, but I’ll take the praise. Your mother has been busting my balls for not talking you out of renting Eustace Weidman’s cottage.”

Eustace was that eighty-seven-year-old lady’s first name? She winced. “News travels fast.” Not that she was surprised. Her mother had insisted on accompanying her on what she’d described as “rental shopping,” and she’d carped all the while about how Lucy should stay at home. “I need my own space, Dad. Surely you understand.”

“I know it,” he said, building a Guinness for her. “You’re like me that way. Now, your mother. She doesn’t understand the concept of personal space, God love her.”

Lucy’s heart swelled as she stroked the bar’s wood grain. “You planning on drinking with me? It’s my first beer in your place in some time.”

He beamed as brightly as his bald head shone under the lights. “How could I refuse?”

After pouring himself a Guinness, he lifted his glass to hers. “Slainte.”

“Slainte,” she repeated and took a sip. The foam tickled her lips and the dark brew coated her tongue. “Mmm. Delicious.”

He wiped the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing like mother’s milk, as they say in the old country. Should I ask to see your new toes?”

She shuddered playfully. “Don’t encourage Mom. I decided to pick my battles.”

He laughed. “Always were a smarty pants. I also heard you agreed to shoot the photos for this calendar she and April have cooked up,” he said, leaning his elbows on the bar.

Since his expression was neutral, she couldn’t get a read on him. “What do you think about it?”

“It’s like a lot of things your mother has set her sights on over the years,” he said with a sigh. “It’s for a good cause and comes from a good place. Personally? Well, I figure the photos of your mother are the closest thing I’m going to get to those boudoir photos I’ve heard about.”