The Christmas Bouquet. Sherryl Woods
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words as she tucked him in were, “Don’t you dare let Grandpa Mick insist on calling you Paddy, okay? It should be enough for Grandpa that your cousin Luke has an Irish pub called O’Brien’s right here in town. We don’t need to be obsessive about the whole Irish thing.”
“’Kay,” he mumbled sleepily as his eyes drifted shut.
She lingered in his room, trying to imagine herself with a child his age in a few years. How crazy would that be? And how on earth would it work if she were in some isolated part of the world? Would Noah insist that their child remain with him wherever he located and opened his practice? Was that one of the possibilities? Could she accept being separated from her child, even temporarily? And what about Noah? Could she live with being separated from him? Until now it had seemed a distant problem, one it would be years before she had to resolve. Now it was all too depressingly complicated with no obvious solutions, at least none she’d managed to come up with on her own.
When she got downstairs, she found her mother in the kitchen, putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.
“Where’s Trace?” Caitlyn asked.
“I told him we wanted some mother-daughter time,” Abby replied. “How about going for a walk? It’s a mild night for this time of year. After the endless winter we’ve had that dragged on through April, I can almost believe that spring is finally right around the corner.”
“It’s a little too dark for a walk on the beach,” Caitlyn responded, regretting that. She’d done some of her best thinking and planning on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay.
“We could walk along the road into town, burn off a few calories from that cake,” her mother suggested. “We could even grab a cup of coffee or shop. I imagine one or two of the stores are still open, even though most of them won’t start extending their hours for the summer season until Memorial Day weekend.”
Caitlyn smiled. Her mom had always loved shopping, a trait she shared with Grandma Megan. She’d been in heaven living in New York. There was no comparison in Chesapeake Shores certainly, even though the small downtown area was thriving.
“We can certainly window-shop at least,” Caitlyn agreed. “No more food, that’s for sure. That cake is so rich I may not eat for the rest of the weekend.”
“You’ll eat at Grandpa Mick’s on Sunday,” her mother said. “Otherwise, you’ll never hear the end of it. He’ll lecture you on insulting Nell.”
“Don’t I know it,” Caitlyn said. “Besides, sometimes I actually crave Gram’s pot roast and her chicken and dumplings and her Irish stew.”
“Any preference for Sunday? I’m sure she’ll make whatever you ask her for.”
“Irish stew,” Caitlyn said at once. “I tried making it myself a couple of weeks ago. It was awful, and I know I followed the recipe you gave me.”
Her mom winced. “Maybe you should have gotten it directly from Gram. You know how I am about things like that. I could have left off half the ingredients. To her everlasting dismay, your uncle Kevin is the only one in the family who inherited Gram’s skill in the kitchen.”
Caitlyn shook her head. “That would explain the disaster, all right. My stew was all but inedible.”
“I’ve already called to tell her you’re here. I’ll let her know first thing in the morning about Sunday dinner,” her mom promised. “Shall I tell her you’ll be stopping by for a cooking lesson in the meantime?”
“That would be great,” Caitlyn said at once. It would give her time alone with Nell to get some much-needed perspective to go right along with the recipe.
Abby grabbed a jacket off a peg by the kitchen door. “You ready for that walk?”
Caitlyn plucked her own jacket off a peg and left the house with her mother. The night air was brisk, even for May, but there was a full moon that cast a stream of silvery light across the Chesapeake Bay just below the road.
They walked the first half mile or so in silence until Caitlyn couldn’t stand it any longer.
“How’s work?” she asked.
“Challenging,” Abby replied. “Handling the job full-time now with Patrick seems a lot harder than it did when you and Carrie were his age. It doesn’t make sense since there were two of you.”
“That’s because we were little angels,” Caitlyn said wryly, knowing perfectly well that she and her sister had been anything but angelic.
Her mom laughed. “As if, but it’s true that Patrick’s a real handful. Trace is a trouper, but he’s more in demand for graphic design work than ever, especially for these new start-up web companies. Even though he works at home, it’s hard for him to juggle work and child care. Thank goodness for kindergarten. He manages a few uninterrupted hours of work before Patrick gets home.”
“You could afford help,” Caitlyn suggested.
“And have your grandfather complain that strangers are raising his grandson?”
“It’s not as if he has a lot of room to talk,” Caitlyn reminded her. “Didn’t he leave Nell to raise you and the rest of his kids when he and Grandma Megan were apart?”
“But Nell is his mother. He’d say it’s not the same.”
“Then tell him he can step in and babysit Patrick.”
“Oh, no,” her mom protested at once. “That child is stubborn enough without letting my father influence him on a daily basis.”
Caitlyn laughed, well aware of her grandfather’s personality. Stubborn was just the tip of the iceberg. Controlling and meddling also came to mind. “I can see how that would be worrisome,” she said.
Silence fell again until they reached downtown Chesapeake Shores. The shops were all closed, but one or two of the restaurants along Shore Road appeared to be open.
“Panini Bistro?” Caitlyn asked.
“That works for me,” her mother said, leading the way inside and heading for a table in the back.
There were a few other tables occupied, but they were far enough away that their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. As soon as they had cups of decaf coffee in front of them and Caitlyn had taken her time adding sugar and cream, her mother reached over and covered her hand.
“Talk,” she said gently. “Whatever’s going on, you know you can tell me. Is medical school not going well? Are you having second thoughts about medicine?”
It was interesting that her mother had focused on her career first. Clearly she understood it was the most important thing in Caitlyn’s life.
Caitlyn shook her head. “Work at the hospital is good. And I’ll never change my mind about medicine and what I want for my future. That’s part of the problem.”
“How so?”
Tears welled up in Caitlyn’s eyes. Unable to bear the thought of the disappointment she might see on her mom’s face, she looked down at the table and whispered, “I’m going to have a baby.”
There wasn’t even an instant of shock or hesitation from her mom. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, squeezing Caitlyn’s hand tightly. “That’s wonderful news!”
Caitlyn looked up and spotted the tears in her mother’s eyes and realized her words were totally sincere. Among the O’Briens, babies were a blessing, no matter what.
“Seriously? You’re not disappointed in me?”
“I could never be disappointed in you,” Abby replied fiercely. “You’re brilliant and loving and the best daughter imaginable.”
“But this is something Carrie would do, not me.”
Her mother actually chuckled at that. “It’s true that it