The Summer Garden. Sherryl Woods
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that she’d made the suggestion, but the urgency he sensed behind it and behind her own plan to invite Dillon to stay. Something was wrong, and he knew in his gut he needed to find out what it was. What he didn’t know was how he was going to pull that off without offending his grandmother’s independent spirit.
Everyone in the family credited Jo O’Brien with being the most practical, sensible O’Brien aside from Nell. Luke was still in awe of how well his mother had handled Susie’s ovarian cancer and kept everyone else from falling apart. He concluded that she was his best bet to get to the bottom of what was going on with his grandmother.
She was easy enough to track down. After school, where she was both a teacher and a women’s track coach, she was usually at practice with her team. Luke found her standing at the edge of the track with a stopwatch in one hand and a whistle in the other. With her hair caught up in a messy ponytail and dressed in jeans and a hoodie on the cool early May afternoon, she looked little older than her students.
“Hey, Mom!” he called out as he joined her.
Barely taking her eyes off the track for more than a split second, she gave him a smile. “What brings you by? I thought you were swamped getting the pub ready to open.”
“I am, but I need to talk to you. Can you spare a couple of minutes? If not now, could you drop by the pub when you’re finished here?”
She must have heard something in his voice, because she blew her whistle to get the attention of the girls. “That’s it, ladies. It was a good practice. Take your showers and head on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When they were finally on their way, she gestured toward the bleachers, then followed Luke over. “What’s up?”
“I’m worried about Gram,” he blurted. “Something’s going on with her, and I don’t think she’s told anyone about it.”
His mother regarded him with surprise. “Are you sure? She’s seemed fine to me when I’ve seen her the past few Sundays.”
“She can put on a good show for a couple of hours,” he said. “I’ve been spending more time with her lately. She’s said a couple of things. When I called her on one of them, she told me I wasn’t to blab.”
“And yet here you are,” Jo said. “Since I know you wouldn’t break your word lightly, what exactly has happened?”
He told her about the casual mention of blood pressure medicine, then today’s incident, when Nell had seemed overheated and short of breath. “It doesn’t sound like much when I say it, but that’s not all. She was talking about wanting Dillon to stay on here, about not being able to make another trip to Ireland herself. She sounded—I don’t know—resigned or something.”
To his relief—yet in a way his regret—his mother didn’t laugh off his concerns. “That doesn’t sound like Nell,” she conceded. “You’re right about that. When we got back from Ireland, all she could talk about was the next trip over there.”
“Will you speak to her? Maybe she’ll open up to you.”
“Nell’s not going to open up to anyone unless she wants them to know what’s going on. It’s not her way. I will keep closer tabs on her and, if I sense that it’s necessary, I’ll get your father, Mick and Thomas to look into it.”
“Do you really want to get them all worked up, especially Mick? You know how he is. He’ll haul her off to Johns Hopkins to be checked out whether she wants to go or not.”
His mother laughed. “He would, wouldn’t he? Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. She has a lot going on right now. I’m sure she’s overly tired with all this planning for Dillon’s visit. I’ll go by this afternoon and offer to help.” When Luke started to protest, she held up a hand. “I know she won’t let me near her kitchen, but she might let me dust and vacuum for her.”
Luke nodded. “I should have thought of that. The kitchen could use a good scrubbing, too. I offered to do it before I left this morning, but she told me she had her own ways of doing things.”
“She didn’t get to this age by not being independent and stubborn, like the rest of the O’Briens,” Jo said.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Luke responded.
She squeezed his hand. “It’s a good trait some of the time. Thanks for telling me about this. It’s good she has you around so much right now. I know she’s enjoying these lessons. Last Sunday at Mick’s, your progress—or lack thereof—was all she could talk about while we were in the kitchen cleaning up.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Today might have tested her limits,” he said, explaining about the mess he’d made of two batches of scones. “If she offers you one, I’d advise against taking it unless it comes with an affidavit that it’s one she baked.”
Jo laughed. “Trust me, if yours were that awful, they’re in the trash by now or she’s fed them to the birds.”
“Poor robins,” Luke said with a shake of his head.
“You’ll get the knack of it. I believe in you. So does Nell. I can hardly wait to see how the pub is coming along.”
“Stop by anytime,” he said, though he’d been discouraging visitors. He wanted the family to be wowed by the finished product.
“I’ll wait,” she said. “I know you want to knock all our socks off on opening night. Have you set the date?”
“Tentatively,” he confessed. “I’d like to open before Dillon goes home again. He made a lot of introductions for me in Ireland. I’d like him to see how much they helped.”
“Oh, he’ll love that,” she said, then gave him a sly look. “Shouldn’t you be inviting Moira over for the grand opening as well? She played a role in this, too, didn’t she?”
The thought had occurred to Luke more than once, but he’d vetoed it. As much as he’d like to have Moira here to share the big opening, a part of him was afraid she might make too much of the invitation. He didn’t want to send any more mixed signals than he already had.
No, when he invited Moira to come to Chesapeake Shores, it would be because he was ready for more than a date to a party, albeit the most important party of his life.
4
“Chesapeake Shores is a long way to go chasing after a man,” Kiera said when she learned of Moira’s trip. “You’ll only be disappointed.”
Moira regarded her mother with annoyance. “Thank you for the support. Are you sure it’s not that you’re jealous that Grandfather is taking me and not you?”
She saw that she’d hit the mark by the tightening of her mother’s lips. Surprisingly, Moira felt bad about it, which proved just how much her attitude toward her mum had changed now that she’d finally put some distance between them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of such a thing.”
Kiera sighed. “It’s never wrong to speak the truth,” she said, sounding weary. “I suppose I am a wee bit jealous that you have this chance and I don’t.” She held Moira’s gaze. “But my concern for you is genuine. I don’t want you to go over there with high expectations about what will happen when you and Luke are reunited. Men like Luke move on at a whim.”
“The way Dad did?” Moira said, understanding with unexpected clarity exactly where the concern came from—her mother’s own experience.
“Yes, as your father did,” Kiera said, her usual bitterness giving way to what almost sounded like sorrow.
Moira hesitated then asked the question she’d never dared to utter before. “Was it me? Was I too much for him?”
Kiera looked startled. “Is that what you think?” she asked in dismay. “That your father left