Willow Brook Road

“Well, as difficult as it might be, time usually takes care of most problems.” She gave him a rueful look. “And just so you know, I don’t have the patience for waiting for that to happen, either. I’m just told that it’s true.”

He smiled as she’d intended.

“I’m pretty sure this test was designed to try mine, too,” he admitted. “They do say karma has a way of getting you. A couple of weeks ago I was a pretty carefree guy. Now I’m tense and capable of biting off the head of someone who’s only trying to be nice.”

“You’re probably entitled, but fair warning,” she said lightly. “I won’t let you get away with it again.”

“Thank you.” He looked away. “The grief, that’s one thing. You’re right. I’ll get over that in time. But becoming a dad to a boy I’ve only seen a few times before...” He shook his head. “I have no idea how to do that.” He gave her another doubtful look. “Any thoughts on that?”

“One day at a time,” she said at once. “I know it sounds glib, but that’s the only way to do anything that’s difficult, at least that’s what my family is always saying. And ask for help when you need it.”

“I’ve always relied on myself. My parents are long gone and my sister and I, well, we’d had our differences. We hadn’t been all that close the past few years, which is another reason this custody arrangement came as such a shock.” Sorrow darkened his eyes. “Now I get to live with regret for not doing more to mend fences. We always think we have all the time in the world to fix things.”

“I’ve found that regrets are usually pointless,” she told him. “The situation is what it is. You have a child to consider now. If you do right by him, I’m sure that’s all that would really matter to your sister. And trust me, when word gets around about what you’re going through, you’ll have all the support you could possibly need.”

She hesitated, tried to talk herself out of making an impulsive offer, but then made it, anyway. “In fact, if you need any help with day care, I can probably help out. I don’t run a day care, but I watch my sister’s baby a few days a week. Several of my younger cousins stop by from time to time to hang out. Your nephew would be welcome. I have an endless supply of cookies on hand and a lot of the coolest toys.”

For the first time since they’d met, Sam smiled, and it actually reached his eyes. Carrie’s heart did a sudden and entirely predictable flip, something that hadn’t happened to her in all the months since she’d been away from Europe and Marc. It was disconcerting—and very untimely, given her recent resolution to avoid jumping into another relationship anytime soon.

“I’d better get back to the pub,” she said hurriedly. “Luke’s waiting for me. And I hear a bowl of that stew calling my name.”

“Sure,” Sam said and held up the bag. “Thanks for bringing this to me, and for the cookies.”

“No problem. And remember what I said, if you need help, ask. You can always get my cell phone number or address from Luke or Mack or Susie.”

She turned and crossed the street quickly. She hesitated for just an instant, trying to assure that there was a perfectly neutral expression on her face before she saw Luke. She was careful not to glance over her shoulder to see if Sam had left or even waved. He was just a guy, after all, a customer. She didn’t need her cousin going all protective on her.

“You took long enough,” Luke said, frowning when she finally went inside.

“You’re lucky I came back at all,” she retorted. “You know how we all dislike being ordered to do anything. And I’m only here for some of that Irish stew, not for one of your lectures.”

Luke’s scowl deepened. “I just want to know why you were waiting on that guy. It’s not as if you work here. And he was rude. I might have been in the kitchen, but I’m not deaf. I heard the way he talked to you when he first came in.”

“There were extenuating circumstances,” she said.

“Really? Tell me.”

She debated doing just that, but decided it wasn’t her story to tell. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing him around. He’s working for Mack. Get your sister to fill you in. Forget about the stew. I’m going home.”

“Please just tell me you have no interest in him beyond being nice to one of my customers,” her cousin said.

“What if I can’t say that?”

“Carrie, come on. That guy has issues.”

“No question about it,” she agreed.

“Don’t you have enough issues of your own without taking on his?”

“I’m not taking on anything. I’m being friendly. That’s what we do around here. Ask Mick.”

Luke groaned. “Blast it all! I leave you alone in here for five minutes and you manage to get tangled up in trouble.”

She laughed at the exaggeration. “Stop fretting. I’m not tangled up in anything,” she said, waving as she went out the door.

Not yet, anyway.

* * *

Mick watched his granddaughter walk away from O’Brien’s as if she were in a big hurry to get somewhere. She didn’t even turn around when he called out to her.

“What’s going on with her?” he grumbled to his wife as he held open the door to the pub. “Since when does she ignore her own grandfather?”

“When she doesn’t want to talk about whatever’s on her mind,” Megan said. “Ever since she came home, you’ve been all over her to make some decisions about her future. Maybe she’s tired of it.”

“Well, she needs to stop wasting time,” he replied. “You can’t tell me she’s still brokenhearted over the jerk in Europe. He obviously wasn’t good enough for her.”

“Not your call,” Megan reminded him. “It’s not about whether he was or wasn’t good enough for her, or about how long it should take her to get over him.”

Mick just scowled at his wife. He hated it when Megan got all reasonable and pointed out that he couldn’t control everything around him, especially when it came to his own family. Okay, she was usually right, but that didn’t mean he should stop trying to make sure things worked out the way they were supposed to.

“Hey, Uncle Mick,” Luke said. “Aunt Megan. Do you all want a table or are you going to sit at the bar?”

“We’ll sit at the bar,” Mick told him. “Then you can fill us in on why Carrie was in such a state when she left here.”

“Mick!” Megan protested. “Don’t involve Luke in this.”

Luke regarded them with an innocent expression that Mick wasn’t buying for a second.

“Was she in some kind of a state?” Luke inquired, as if he hadn’t noticed a thing out of the ordinary about her mood.

Mick frowned at him. “Did all you kids make a pact to keep me in the dark about things?”

His nephew laughed. “No pact,” he insisted. “But I did take an oath to protect my customers’ privacy.”

“Carrie’s not a customer. She’s family.”

“Then march right on over to her house and ask her yourself,” Luke suggested, setting a pint of ale in front of Mick and a glass of red wine in front of Megan, who was trying hard to bite back a smile.

“Ungrateful wretch,” Mick mumbled.

“Watch it or I’ll tell Gram you were calling me names,” Luke retorted.

“Ma doesn’t scare me,” Mick said.

“Well, she ought to,” Megan said. “Now hush. Let’s have a nice dinner and then go home.”

Mick sighed as Luke beat a hasty retreat, leaving him to stew over the lack of information. “You’re both acting as if I’m in the wrong for being concerned about my own granddaughter,” he told Megan.