A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

She gave him a defiant look. “What if I want to go back to my own cottage and get on with the life you two disrupted when you split up?”

Startled, Mick stared at her. “Is that what you want?”

She sighed softly. “I can’t say for sure, but it holds a certain appeal. It’s not as if I’d be at the ends of the earth. The cottage is within walking distance. And it’s mine. I fixed it up exactly the way I wanted it when you built it. It’s warm and cozy, which would be a nice change from rattling around in this big old place now that all your children are grown and have moved out.”

Mick felt a deep sense of loss at the thought of his mother going off to live on her own. Still, he said, “It’s your decision, Ma, as long as you know you’re welcome here if you want to stay. This became your home the day you moved in here to help me with the kids. I dumped most of that responsibility on your shoulders because I couldn’t cope. I’ll owe you till the day I die.”

“You don’t owe me a thing. I did what was necessary,” she insisted. “And I’m thinking you and Megan should have a fresh start without me underfoot. She probably has her own ideas about how she’d like the household to run.”

“She’ll more than likely be working, Ma. The house would continue to be your domain.”

“Like some glorified housekeeper,” she said with asperity, then held up a hand. “I didn’t mean that to sound so harsh. I do know you both want me here, and I appreciate that. We have a couple of months to think about it. Maybe I’ll go over to the cottage tomorrow and see how it’s holding up. It could probably use a fresh coat of paint and airing out. No matter the care I’ve taken of it, a house suffers when it’s not lived in.”

“I’ll come with you,” Mick offered. “Anything you want done, I’ll take care of it. And if you change your mind and decide to stay here, that’s fine, too.”

Her expression suddenly brightened, and a twinkle lit her eyes. “It might be nice to have my own place if I should have a gentleman caller.”

Mick stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“You never know, young man. I’m old, but I’m not in my grave yet.”

“Far from it,” Mick said, shaking his head. He wondered if Nell O’Brien would ever stop surprising him. He had a hunch if she had her way, there might be a few more shocks in store.

* * *

Even though they’d managed to get through dinner, Megan wasn’t deluding herself that anything between her and Connor was truly settled. Once again, he’d resorted to the kind of civility that had fooled all of them into believing he’d weathered the divorce without scars. Now that she knew otherwise, she’d be more attuned to the hostility that seethed just beneath the surface. One dinner without fireworks wasn’t going to change that.

By the time Connor dropped her off at the house, she was emotionally wrung out. Finding Mick pacing impatiently in the foyer did nothing to soothe her.

“It’s about time,” he muttered when she walked inside. “Where’s Connor?”

“On his way back to Baltimore,” she said wearily.

“Why didn’t he come inside?”

She 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.”