A Chesapeake Shores Christmas. Sherryl Woods
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lifted a brow. “So you could badger him?”
He frowned at her. “I wasn’t going to badger him, just tell him a few facts of life.”
“Well, he doesn’t need to hear anything more from either one of us at the moment. He needs time to process what’s happening. Once again, we’ve turned his view of the world upside down.”
“This isn’t about him,” Mick grumbled.
“Of course it is,” Megan said. “What I did years ago had an impact on each one of our children. So did the way you chose to handle it—by running off to one job site after another. What I thought of as consideration for their feelings in letting them stay here in their home with you, they interpreted as me not caring at all. There were bound to be repercussions.”
“I suppose,” he said grudgingly. “I just hope Connor didn’t try to talk you out of marrying me.”
“Of course he did,” she said, then touched Mick’s cheek. “There’s nothing he could say, though, that would change my mind, Mick. We might have to adjust the timetable a bit to allow time to bring him around, but in the end, we will get married.”
He stopped pacing and stared. “Adjust the timetable? What the devil are you suggesting?”
“That New Year’s Eve may be rushing things. I want everyone in the family not only to attend the ceremony, but to be happy for us, Mick. It won’t feel right if they’re not.”
He faced her stubbornly. “We’re getting married New Year’s Eve, and that’s that.”
She frowned. “And there’s no room for compromise, even if it’s important to me?”
Apparently he heard the warning note in her voice, because he backed down at once. “I didn’t say that.”
“No, you just said it’s your way, period. This isn’t going to work, Mick, not if we can’t work through things like this together.”
He scowled unhappily, but eventually nodded. “Okay, fine, we’ll talk about it. You want a drink?”
“Just some tea, I think.”
“I’ll fix it,” he offered, then headed for the kitchen.
There was no one in this Irish household who couldn’t brew a proper cup of tea. Mick placed a steaming pot before her within minutes, then sat down.
“Were you able to talk with Nell?” she asked, hoping to avoid another argument over Connor.
He nodded. “She thinks she might want to move to the cottage.”
“Oh, dear,” Megan said. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to avoid.”
“Don’t fret too much. She seems to think it will improve her social life,” Mick said, clearly disgruntled. “She said something about having privacy for her gentlemen callers. Since when does my mother have gentlemen callers, I’d like to know?”
Megan chuckled. “Maybe that’s the point,” she suggested. “She doesn’t want you to know about them and meddle the way you have in your children’s lives.”
He shuddered. “She’s probably right. Knowing my mother is getting involved with some old codger is probably more information than I need to have.”
“I think it would be sweet for her to have someone special in her life,” Megan said thoughtfully. “Look at all the years she’s sacrificed her own needs to take care of our family. It’s her turn to find whatever happiness she can.”
“I suppose. Now let’s stop talking about my mother and Connor, and focus on us. How soon are you going to quit your job and move down here? Two weeks’ notice ought to be enough, don’t you think?”
“Not with a major show coming up at the gallery,” she said. “Besides, if I want Phillip to consider opening an extension of his gallery here, then I have to handle this with care.”
“You don’t need his backing,” Mick argued. “I’ll bankroll your gallery.”
“It’s very generous of you to want to do that,” Megan said, “but I just finished telling Connor that I wasn’t marrying you for your money. How will it look to him if you pour thousands of dollars into my new business? No, Mick. I have to make this come together on my own.”
“How?” he asked, his skepticism plain … and highly annoying.
“That’s my problem now, isn’t it?”
“Is this the way it’s going to be from here on out?” he demanded. “You refusing to accept any kind of help from me? I want to do things for you, Megan. It makes me happy.”
“Then buy me a bouquet of flowers from time to time, or take me out for a romantic dinner. I don’t need lavish gestures for you to prove how much you love me.”
Mick shook his head. “You are the most contrary woman I’ve ever known. What kind of person turns down help from someone who loves them?”
“One who needs to maintain some independence,” she responded candidly.
“Why, so you can turn right around and leave me again?”
“No, so there will never be a question in your mind that I’m with you because I love you, not because of what you can do for me.”
“That’s Connor talking,” he said. “I won’t have him meddling in our relationship or making you question the way every little thing we do might look to him.”
“It’s not about Connor,” she insisted. “It’s about me, Mick. I’ve learned to stand on my own two feet. I’m not the naive, dependent girl who expected you to dance attendance and make my life complete. If it’s going to work between us, we have to be equals.”
“So if I decide on impulse to give you a car, you have to turn right around and buy something for me?” he asked.
“That might be exaggerating just a bit,” she said dryly.
“Well, I should hope so, because it sounds ridiculous. If I’m your husband and I decide on a whim to give you something, what happened to accepting it graciously?”
“Mick, this isn’t about cars or jewelry or impulsive gestures.”
“Then explain it to me.”
Megan wasn’t sure she could. She just knew that gifts per se weren’t the problem. It was all the strings implied. And if she wasn’t careful, those strings were going to bind them together for all the wrong reasons.
And their marriage wouldn’t stand a chance.
* * *
Mick had been thoroughly frustrated by his conversation with Megan the night before. He was still stewing over it on Monday morning after he’d driven her to Baltimore to the airport. He knew Connor was behind her attitude, no matter how much she’d tried to deny it. He also knew he needed to settle a thing or two with his younger son.
He pulled out his cell phone and called Connor at the office. “Take a break,” he ordered without preamble. “I’ll meet you at the coffee shop on the corner in ten minutes.”
“I can’t. I have an appointment with a new client in an hour.”
“This won’t take long,” Mick said grimly. “I’ll talk and you can listen.”
Of course, that was an optimistic outlook. Connor had never once suffered a lecture in silence. Those strong opinions of his were bound to surface. Still, Mick wanted to clear the air and make a few things plain. His son might be a grown man, but Mick still ran the family. He was due a little respect of his own.
Connor was already waiting at a table with two cups of coffee by the time Mick had found a parking place and walked the two blocks to the crowded