A Seaside Christmas

Jenny noted that she didn’t wait around for Jenny to confirm that she’d be there on Sunday. It was taken for granted. After all, when Mick O’Brien set a plan into motion, it generally worked out exactly the way he intended it to.

* * *

Jenny was beginning to feel as if everyone had a plan for her life. Her uncle had been on her case ever since he’d put Emily Rose to bed and joined her and Bree in the kitchen for a late dinner. At first he’d tried reason. Then he’d cajoled. Now he was resorting to threats.

“You’ll be in my truck at six forty-five tomorrow morning or I’ll drag you out of bed, throw you over my shoulder and haul you out the door myself,” Jake said, his expression as fierce as Jenny had ever seen it, except, perhaps, for that time he’d caught her making out with Dillon Johnson after hours in his office at the nursery he owned on the outskirts of town.

Between the nursery and his landscaping business, Jake was always on the go soon after dawn. His sister—Jenny’s mom—dealt with all the paperwork and scheduling for the company. A couple of years back he’d given her some sort of title and a salary increase because they both understood that it was Connie who had the patience to deal with all the details that Jake hated. He loved the outdoors and the backbreaking landscaping work.

Jenny tried to stare him down. “But, Uncle Jake—”

He cut off the protest. “Your mother doesn’t deserve the cold shoulder you’ve been giving her. Neither does Thomas, but I’ll leave that for another time. You’re coming to work with me in the morning, and you and your mother aren’t walking out of there till you’ve made peace.”

Jenny looked to Bree for backup, but Bree had suddenly become engrossed in loading the dishwasher with their dinner dishes. Sighing heavily, she gave up the fight. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Spoken like the sulky teenager you no longer are,” Jake said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I only want what’s best for you, you know that.”

“This is not about me,” Jenny countered. “You want to keep the peace with Mom. Otherwise, she’ll make your life miserable at work.”

He shrugged. “Okay. That, too. I hate it when she cries or even looks like she’s about to.” He stood up and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Glad to have you home, kiddo. I’ve missed you. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

“At six forty-five. Got it.”

She watched her uncle head upstairs, then rested her head on her arms. When she looked up, she said, “Coming home was a bad idea.”

Bree joined her at the kitchen table. “No. Coming home was an excellent idea. Deep in your heart, you know that. It’s just hard to see everyone at first. That’s why this Sunday dinner thing Jess told you about will be great. You can see everyone at once, get any awkwardness behind you and then enjoy the holidays.”

“I’m delighted to see that your father got you on board so quickly. Jess, too. I imagine he’ll be sending Nell out to track me down next. There will be a steady stream of O’Briens in my face until I capitulate and say yes.”

Bree merely laughed. “More than likely. He knows as well as anyone that none of us can say no to Nell, you included.”

“I could be the first,” Jenny grumbled, though she knew Bree was right. There was something so warm and wise about Nell, that no one ever refused her requests. If it weren’t for the anticipated additional pressure, Jenny might actually look forward to seeing her. She would have loved to have a grandmother like that.

“Nah,” Bree said confidently. “You’re as susceptible to Nell as the rest of us.” Bree slid Jenny a sly look. “Especially now that she’s technically your grandmother, too.”

Jenny gave her a startled look, then sighed as she considered the connection through Thomas. “I suppose so.”

“Why don’t you look happier about that? I know how much you adore her.”

“Because despite what she said about my needing time to deal with all these changes, I know she probably thinks I’m a terrible, selfish brat for leaving and not coming back,” Jenny said. “She’s bound to think I was trying to punish Mom for marrying Thomas.”

Bree gave her a knowing look. “Weren’t you?”

“I wasn’t, not really,” Jenny said earnestly. “I just felt lost, like an outsider in my safe, secure world. For all those years after my dad left, it was just my mom and me and Uncle Jake.”

“You didn’t blame me when I married Jake,” Bree noted.

Jenny flushed. “Sure, I did,” she said candidly. “But you’d gotten Uncle Jake to lighten up on me and Dillon Johnson, so it balanced out somehow.”

Bree smiled. “Ah, so that’s how I escaped your wrath.”

“Pretty much. I figured you were my one ally back then.” She gave her a resigned look. “Now, not so much.”

“Leave me out of it,” Bree commanded. “Let’s stick to the real issue. Thomas came along and you were no longer the sun in your mother’s universe. Is that how you felt?”

Jenny nodded. “Ridiculous, I know. I was going off to college, for heaven’s sake. I didn’t want her to be all alone. I should have been thrilled that she’d fallen in love. I wasn’t blind. I could see that Thomas adored her, that he wanted to do everything in his power to make her happy. She was glowing when they got married. And then, just when I was coming to terms with that, she got pregnant....”

Jenny shook her head at the memory of the way she’d taken that news, as if it had been a personal betrayal. She’d fled the Christmas celebration at their Dublin hotel the moment she’d heard the announcement. “God, I behaved so badly.”

“Everyone understood you were upset,” Bree consoled her. “You should have found out before the rest of us. They both should have been more considerate of your feelings. I just think they were so excited, it kind of came out.”

“I get that and I had no right to ruin that moment. It just hurt to see how happy they were, as if they’d been given a miracle.”

“They had been,” Bree said, then added gently, “But that made you realize that your mom was a woman, that you alone weren’t enough for her. It must have come as a rude awakening.”

Jenny gaped at her. “You get that?”

“Sweetie, observing human beings and all their frailties is what I do. You can’t write plays that mean anything without that kind of insight.” She grinned. “And I write halfway decent plays.”

“They’re more than halfway decent,” Jenny said with total sincerity.

“You have the same sort of insight,” Bree noted. “It shines through in your songs. How do you think you came up with so many hits? People respond to the sensitivity and truth in your lyrics.”

“I thought it was because I’ve been fortunate enough to have them sung by some of the hottest guys in Nashville.”

“Well, that, too,” Bree said with a grin. Her expression sobered. “I know I’ve said this before, but I’m truly sorry about you and Caleb. I know that breakup hurt.”

“Over and done with,” Jenny said, not even trying to hide her bitterness over that fact. “I haven’t heard from him since he went into rehab for alcohol abuse. If I never hear from him again, it will be too soon.”

“Said exactly like a woman who’s still fighting her feelings,” Bree commented. “Unless I’m mistaken, you two never talked about what happened, about those pictures that were splashed all over the tabloids. He went straight into treatment.”

Jenny thought back to those devastating days. There hadn’t been one single phone call, no attempt to apologize or explain. “We never talked, no.”

“Then you could probably use some closure,” Bree suggested.

Jenny gave her a startled look. “No way,” she insisted. “Caleb is history. I have no idea where he is. I don’t want to know. He trashed his career, right along with our relationship. Forget closure. If I ever take a chance on love again, it won’t be with another bad-boy singer, that’s for sure. Nice, stable and boring. That’s the way to go.”

She reminded herself of that every single night as she lay all alone in the bed she and Caleb had once shared.

If Bree had something to say about her fierce declaration, she wisely kept it to herself. Jenny was in no mood to hear her defend the man who’d chosen a bottle over her.

She stood up abruptly. “If I’m supposed to be up before dawn, I’d better get some sleep.” She gave Bree a hug. “Thanks for taking me in and for being so understanding.”

“Always,” Bree said. “And, sweetie, cut your mom some slack when you see her. She loves you so much.”

Because she knew in her heart it was true, Jenny nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’ll come by the theater after you’ve seen her?” Bree asked. “We can talk about the songs for the play, maybe bounce around a few ideas?”