The Summer Garden (13 page)

She drew in a deep breath, then nodded. “Call her.”

Rather than listening while Luke spoke to his aunt, she concentrated on sorting through the pictures she’d selected as being better than average. Were they good enough, though? Suddenly she’d lost her earlier ability to be objective. She questioned each and every one of them. Was this one too dark? That one a bit fuzzy because of the child’s sudden movement?

Fortunately, she didn’t have to suffer all the uncertainty for long, because Megan arrived within minutes. Moira gave her a weak smile.

“I hope you’ll not be sorry that Luke called you and wasted your time,” she said to the stylish woman, who offered her an understanding look in return.

“No need to panic or make excuses, Moira,” Megan said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m not here to rip your heart out. I’m just a friend who happens to have some experience in this field. I have a photography show hanging in my gallery right now, as a matter of fact. You should come back with me when we’re finished here and take a look. I’d love to hear what you think.”

Moira regarded her with amazement. “You’d want
my
opinion?”

Megan nodded. “Why wouldn’t I? Luke wouldn’t have called me if he didn’t believe you have an eye for this.” She nudged Moira aside to take her place in front of the computer, then met her gaze. “Seriously, do you mind if I have a look? If Luke bullied you into it, I can wait.”

Moira shook her head and stepped away, unable to watch. Luke came up beside her and, as if sensing her panic, took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “You’ll see.”

Moira prayed he was right. It didn’t help that Megan was silent as she went through the photos in the file. She lingered over each one for what seemed like an eternity. Occasionally, a smile touched her lips, but that was her only visible reaction.

Eventually she turned to Moira. “You took these this morning?”

“I was walking by the green and saw the children. I couldn’t stop myself from taking their pictures.”

“A couple of them are my grandchildren,” Megan said. “Didn’t you recognize them?”

Moira was dumbstruck. “I should have, shouldn’t I? I was so focused on the shots, I wasn’t really looking for O’Briens.”

“I’m going to want prints of them for myself and for their parents,” Megan told her. “More important, I’d like you to consider building a portfolio while you’re here. If you do that, perhaps we can talk about a showing at my gallery sometime down the road.”

Moira’s mouth gaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I’m serious,” Megan said. “I’m thinking it could be called
The Faces of Chesapeake Shores
or something like that. The locals will go crazy for it and collectors will snap them up. I don’t know what you were told in Ireland, but you capture the heart of people. I know because I see little Mick’s exuberance and Davy’s energy. And the little girl who’s in tears as another child walks away dragging a pull toy is priceless. You have a gift for finding a defining moment and getting it on film.”

“And the scenery?” Moira asked, wondering if Megan would feel as she did about that.

“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t have the heart of the others, Moira.” She studied her intently. “I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.”

Moira shook her head, suddenly feeling the knot inside her ease. “No, that’s exactly what I thought as well. My talent, if I have any, is to take pictures of people.”

“Exactly,” Megan confirmed.

Impulsively, Moira gave her a hug. “Thank you. I can’t tell you what it means to me to have you take the time to look at these.”

Megan’s warm expression sobered. “I mean it about putting together a show, Moira. It will take time to assemble enough of a portfolio to choose from, but I have confidence you can do it. And if the pictures are as good as I anticipate, I think I can get you noticed in the right places.”

The excitement Moira had felt just a couple of weeks ago when Peter had sung her praises multiplied a hundred times as she basked in Megan’s words.

“Honestly?” she said, hardly daring to believe it. The scale balancing one future against another immediately tipped in favor of a career again.

“I’m always serious when it comes to business,” Megan said. “I came to this career late, but I’ve worked hard to make a success of it. I wouldn’t jeopardize my reputation just to please you or Luke.”

She glanced at her watch. “I need to get back to the gallery. It’s time for my assistant to leave. You can come back with me now, if you like, or stop by whenever you have time to spare to take a look at the current exhibit.”

“Could I do that tomorrow?” Moira asked. She wanted to stay here for the moment and absorb everything Megan had said to her.

“Of course,” Megan agreed. “Why don’t we plan to get together again one day next week as well, and you can show me any pictures you’ve shot to add to these. I know there’s a time crunch given the length of your stay, but take your time, Moira. It’s more important that you do your best work.”

“I totally understand,” Moira agreed at once. “And thank you. You can’t possibly know what this means to me.”

As soon as Megan had gone, Moira whirled around and threw herself into Luke’s arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He laughed. “I gather you’re happy about the way it turned out.”

“I’m over the moon,” she said. “I can’t believe that a real expert thinks I have talent.”

“She means it about the show, too,” Luke reminded her. “She wouldn’t offer something like that lightly.”

“But I’ll only be here a few more weeks,” Moira said. “How can I possibly take enough pictures?”

He grinned. “You took these in just a morning,” he said. “I think you have enough time. If not, you can always extend your stay or come back.”

She studied his face as he said that so casually. “Would it bother you if that happened?”

“You mean if you stayed longer or came back?”

She nodded.

“Of course not. I can’t imagine anything better.”

“Really?”

He frowned. “Why do you doubt me?”

“Because it’s seemed from the time I arrived that you were viewing my stay as finite. It’s one thing for me to be here on vacation for a month, and quite another to think of me here longer. I thought it might rattle you or change things if you thought I could be here indefinitely.”

He cupped his hands around her arms and held her still. “Moira, I am happy you came. I would be even happier if your stay were extended for any reason, but especially for something like this. It means I’d be able to be right here to share in your success, just as you’ll be here to be a part of mine. We can prop each other up when the doubts creep in as well. You were my biggest booster when I floated the idea for the pub. Now I’d like to be your biggest supporter.”

“You’ve already done that by inviting Megan over here this afternoon,” she said. “I would never have dreamed of such a thing. I wouldn’t have wanted to be presumptuous.”

“That’s why we make an excellent team,” he told her. “O’Briens are taught at an early age to be there for one another. It was one of Gram’s biggest lessons. When my dad, Mick and Thomas had a falling-out during the development of Chesapeake Shores, it devastated her. She’s spent years trying to make peace between them and reminding them that family’s more important than any of their squabbles.”

“There was none of that in my family,” Moira admitted. “My brothers and I barely speak, and Mum’s far too busy to worry about it. The truth is, she doesn’t get along that well with any of us. It was only just before I left that she and I started to see eye-to-eye on anything. As for her and Grandfather, I think they’re still a very long way from doing much more than spending a few hours at a time together without fighting.”

“But it’s so obvious to me how much your grandfather wants all of you to be a family,” Luke said. “At Christmas, I could see how hard he was trying, and it wasn’t just to impress Gram. It matters to him.”

Moira nodded. “I saw that, too. It was a real revelation to me.”

“Families are a work in progress,” Luke said. “The dynamics are always changing.”

“Do you think that’s true for us as well?” Moira asked.

Luke smiled at her wistful question. “We’re human, aren’t we? I imagine there are a good many twists and turns ahead for the two of us. I, for one, am looking forward to them. How about you?”

She allowed herself a smile. “Truthfully? I can’t wait.”

For the first time, she wasn’t terrified about the future. She found herself actually looking forward to it. Some of that, of course, was due to Megan’s feedback. Most of it, though, was because of Luke. Right at this moment, she actually felt optimistic about all of it. The sensation was as wonderful as it was rare.

11

T
he speed of the O’Brien grapevine was astounding, even on a slow day. Once Mick got involved, it apparently worked at warp speed, at least as far as Moira could tell.

Mick came bursting into the pub within an hour of Megan’s departure, followed by Shanna and Kevin as well as Heather and Connor. Megan trailed along behind, her expression sheepish.

“When Mick came in from his trip to Baltimore with your grandfather and Nell, I mentioned that you had taken pictures of Davy and little Mick earlier today,” Megan said apologetically. “Naturally, my husband promptly told their parents. Moira, would you mind terribly showing them the photos?”

Moira chuckled, despite a lingering hint of embarrassment over all the hoopla. She supposed if Megan was right about her potential, she’d have to get used to this sort of thing. It was good that her first critics on American soil were basically friendly.

She turned on the computer and opened up the files, then left the small group to scroll through the shots she’d taken, hovering in the background as they looked.

“I want that one on the wall in the quilt store,” Heather said when she saw the picture of little Mick. “Trace has all sorts of enlargement capabilities. Do you suppose he could make a blowup for me?” She turned to Moira. “Would you mind? I absolutely love it. It’s the best picture I’ve ever seen of our son.”

“And this one of Davy is priceless,” Shanna said. “He looks as if he’s about to race right off the screen. Could I hire you, Moira, to come by sometime to take pictures of him, Henry and the baby? Not stiff, formal shots, but candids like these?”

“You don’t have to hire me. I’d love to do it,” Moira said at once. “I need more shots for my portfolio, anyway, according to Megan. You’d be doing me the favor.”

She caught Megan rolling her eyes. “Young lady, you do not just give away your work.”

Moira regarded her steadily, her chin up. “I do for people who’ve been kind to me. Now if the neighbors start lining up, I’ll have to reconsider.”

Megan chuckled. “Well, I can see that you have a stubborn streak to match any O’Brien’s, so I won’t argue.”

Shanna beamed at the resolution of the argument. “Would tomorrow afternoon work? It’s Henry’s birthday and I’m throwing a party. He wasn’t used to much commotion when he first came to live with me and Kevin full time, so last year’s celebration was just a family affair. This year, though, I’ve gone all out. We’re having not only family, but also his friends from school. I’m even taking a rare Saturday off from the store to try to manage the chaos.”

Kevin grinned. “Which means since you’re in charge, I’ll get to leave, right?”

“Not on your life, pal,” Shanna said to him firmly. “You can have the morning to yourself, but from noon on you’re mine. And if the thought of a couple of dozen little kids scares you, maybe Connor will come along to protect you.”

Connor’s expression immediately brightened. “Will there be cake? If there’s cake, count me in. Is Gram baking it?”

“I asked Gail to do it at the inn,” Shanna admitted. “There are way too many people coming to the party. Your grandmother could never have baked a cake big enough for this crowd.” Her expression turned worried. “I think Nell was okay with that.”

“Don’t count on it,” Connor said direly, then brightened. “But Gail’s cake is pretty darn good, too. I suppose that could get me there to help out.”

Heather grinned at her husband’s reaction. “You are such a kid. Did no one ever throw you a party when you were Henry’s age?”

“Of course we did,” Megan said, then frowned. Before Connor could say a word, she amended, “At least we did before I left. I can’t imagine that Nell broke tradition while I was away.”

Connor regarded her evenly. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m past thinking about what changed when you left. You’re here now. That’s what matters. And I had my share of birthday parties, even when I misbehaved and Gram threatened to cancel them.”

“Still, I can’t help thinking about how much I missed, especially with you and Jess,” Megan lamented. “You two were the youngest. I should have made sure you had magical celebrations every single birthday.”

Connor circled an arm around her shoulders. “How about this? You can plan little Mick’s party every year and deal with all the kids to make up for it. Heather and I will go out and have our own private, quiet celebration of the day our son was born.”

“As if,” Heather protested. “Our boy is not having a party without his mommy and daddy.”

Connor shrugged. “Oh, well. It was a thought. I don’t have nearly enough excuses to have you all to myself.”

Moira listened to the exchange with a sense of wonder. The dynamics in this family were a constant source of amazement to her. People bickered and fought. They struggled to overcome the fallout from Megan’s apparently ugly divorce from Mick all those years ago. And yet they were united by unquestioning, unwavering love. She couldn’t help wondering how they’d managed that when she and her mum still struggled to be civil, as did her mum and her grandfather.

The O’Briens were still bickering as they left after getting Moira’s agreement to take pictures at tomorrow’s party. She turned to Luke.

“How do they do that?” she asked.

He regarded her blankly. “What?”

Clearly, it was something he took for granted, she thought, marveling at that as well. “The balance between speaking their minds, arguing and managing not to inflict hurt feelings.”

“Oh, believe me, people get their feelings hurt from time to time,” Luke said. “Sometimes words cut a little too close and leave wounds.”

“Wounds, maybe, but not rifts,” she said. “In my family we wind up not speaking for weeks. Sometimes longer.”

“It’s Gram,” he said. “She doesn’t allow the wounds to fester. For a little thing, she has a mighty power to force any one of us to shape up, and she doesn’t hesitate to intervene.” His expression suddenly turned sad. “I don’t know what will happen once she’s gone.”

Moira regarded him with dismay. “There was something in your voice when you said that, Luke. She’s not ill, is she? Grandfather hasn’t mentioned it.”

He hesitated a little too long before responding. “She’s in her eighties. Things are bound to start going wrong,” he said in a way that was revealing for its evasiveness. “I’ve been trying to keep a close eye on her. So has my mother. But Gram gets annoyed if she thinks any of us are hovering.”

“Then don’t hover,” Moira said. “If Nell needs your help, she seems to me like someone who’ll ask for it. Until then, treat her with the respect she’s earned.”

“There’s no lack of respect in worrying,” Luke argued.

“There is if it makes her start thinking of herself differently, as if she’s an object of pity or suddenly turned frail, rather than the same vital woman she’s always been.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I see what you mean. And I recall how put out she was when people thought she should stop taking charge of Sunday dinners. Since she’s seemed better since you and your grandfather arrived, I’ll try to heed your advice and quit hovering. Mum’s much more subtle about it than I am, anyway. She’ll alert the troops if she thinks there’s a need.”

Moira wound her arms around his neck. “You can hover over me instead,” she suggested. “The clock says it wouldn’t be amiss to go home now.”

A grin spread across his face at the suggestion. “My home?”

“It’s the closest and the least crowded,” she told him. “I’m thinking a bit of privacy could be in order.”

“And I’m thinking you’re a genius,” he said. “Grab your jacket and let’s go.”

“I’ll only need a jacket if you’re not up for the job of keeping me warm,” she challenged.

He laughed. “I’ll do my best, and you can rate me on it later.”

“I’m thinking there could be an A-plus in your future,” she teased.

In fact, she was counting on it.

After walking around the Inner Harbor in Baltimore most of the day, Nell was more than ready for a quiet evening at home with Dillon. The message from Moira that she’d be spending the night at Luke’s couldn’t have been more welcome.

“This is nice,” Dillon said as they finished eating. “Just you and me at home for a meal. We missed out on a lot of years like this, Nell. I don’t regret the life I had, but I do regret that.”

“We can’t go back and change anything,” she scolded. “We need to be grateful that we’ve been given a second chance to have quiet nights together like this. We should count our blessings, not our regrets. Isn’t that the mark of a life well lived—to have more of the one than the other?”

“You’ve always seen the glass as half-full, haven’t you?” Dillon said. “Your ability to be optimistic is one of the things I admire about you.”

She smiled at him. “If I needed to bask in your approval, I’d insist on your listing a few of the others,” she teased. “But I’m content with just the one for now. Would you like a glass of wine or a cup of tea? I think it’s warm enough that we could sit on the porch and enjoy the sunset.”

“Nothing to drink,” he told her. “Just you and that lovely view you have of the water. Rather than the porch, let’s sit in those chairs you have on the lawn. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to look up in the sky and see so many stars as they make their debut at night.”

“Thank goodness we don’t have as many bright lights as the city,” she told him as they walked outside. “Sometimes I’m awake before daybreak, and I come out here and look up. It seems as if the sky’s a field of diamonds. Being able to pick out a constellation here and there takes me back to the nights we used to lie on a blanket in that field near my grandfather’s house in the country.”

Dillon chuckled. “That’s not what I remember most about those nights. I remember only that you occasionally let me steal a kiss. They were all the sweeter because we risked getting caught.”

Nell smiled at the memory and reached for his hand. “There’s no one around to catch us tonight, if you wanted to do the same thing,” she said.

“Now, how could I pass up an invitation like that?” he asked, and pulled her into his arms.

The touch of his lips against hers had the pull of nostalgia, the tenderness of who they were now. Nell was just starting to enjoy it when a voice cut through the still night air.

“What’s this?” Mick demanded, sounding irritated.

Nell would have moved away, but Dillon refused to let her go. He turned a level gaze on Mick.

“What does it look like?” Dillon inquired mildly. “A sensitive man wouldn’t need to ask. Nor would he want to embarrass his mother.”

Nell had to contain a laugh at Mick’s chagrined expression. He looked as guilty as he might have at seventeen after being scolded by a parent in front of company.

“It’s my duty to look out for Ma,” Mick replied stiffly.

“And I can respect you for that,” Dillon said. “But your mother needs no protection from me.”

Nell decided it was time to step in before these two strong-willed men started some ridiculous turf war. “Enough, both of you. Mick, if I want to kiss someone, it’s my choice. I’m not a foolish teenager. Nor am I your child. I’m your mother. Allow me a little dignity.”

Mick stared at her in dismay. “I’m not trying to rob you of your dignity. Nor did I come by to embarrass you.”

“Then why are you here?” she asked.

When he had no ready answer, she gave him an amused look. “Since you’re silent, I’ll answer it for you. You came over to check up on me.”

“I did no such thing,” he blustered, then sighed. “At least I didn’t mean for it to seem that way. I’ve just gotten into the habit of dropping by.”

“Then I’m part of your usual route? Don’t think I don’t see how you make stops at everyone’s home or business during the course of your day.”

She stepped away from Dillon and touched her son’s cheek. “I love how you care for me, Mick, for this whole family. But just as you had to do with your children, you have to let me go.”

Her words seemed to alarm him. “Let you go? What does that mean? Are you planning to go back to Ireland, after all?”

“No. I’m just planning to live what’s left of my life in the way that seems right to me. While your opinion will always matter, it’s not what counts the most.”

Mick looked oddly thrown by her determined reply, but he nodded slowly. “Fair enough. I guess I’ll be going then.”

“Unless you’d like to stay and join us for a bit,” Dillon said, holding out an olive branch. “We can always retrieve another chair from the porch.”

“And be a third wheel? No, thank you,” Mick said, visibly shuddering. “But I do appreciate the offer. I’ll see both of you tomorrow. If you’d like, Dillon, Kevin has said if we can go early, he’ll take us out on the foundation’s research boat for a closer look at the bay.”

“I’d like that,” Dillon said at once. “Assuming you’ve no intention of tossing me overboard.”

Mick laughed. “Not a chance, especially with Ma and my son along as witnesses.”

“Then we’ll see you bright and early,” Dillon said eagerly. “I’ll ask Moira if she’d care to come along, if that’s all right.”

“It would be fine,” Mick told him. “She agreed earlier to take pictures at Henry’s birthday party, so she may need to make preparations for that. But since Kevin will want to be back in time for the party as well, I imagine she could do both. It’s up to her.”