The Inn at Eagle Point (21 page)

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Authors: Sherryl Woods

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BOOK: The Inn at Eagle Point
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Megan laughed at that. "I suppose, in some insane way, I thought my
leaving would force him to stay home, so you would have your dad around. And I
knew your grandmother would take up any slack left by me. She adored all five
of you. You couldn't have asked for a better mother."
"But you're our mother," Abby reminded her heatedly. "Gram
shouldn't have had to fill your shoes."
"No, she shouldn't have," Megan agreed. "Leaving you and your
brothers and sisters—I'll regret all that till the day I die. Believe me, I
understand how much I lost by handling things the way I did. No matter how
often I visited, I missed too many important moments in your lives."
"Do you really have regrets?" Abby asked skeptically. "Does that
include Dad? Are you sorry you left him?"
Silence greeted the question, but the patches of pink in her mother's cheeks
were answer enough. Abby reached for Megan's hands. They were icy. "Mom,
do you still love him?"
To her surprise, her mother blinked back a fresh batch of tears. "I never
stopped loving him. I just couldn't live with him—or without him, to be more
precise—any longer."
Abby's heart ached for her, for both of them. Because she knew, had always
known, that her father was still desperately in love with her mother. Only
sheer pride and stubbornness had kept him from going after her years ago.
Thinking of that reminded her of the parallels between her parents' actions and
what had happened between her and Trace. Their timing had been off years ago,
but the feelings had never completely died. And maybe, if Trace's pride hadn't
kicked in when it had, they might have found their way back to each other
before she'd gotten involved with Wes.
Of course, that meant that she wouldn't have had Carrie and Caitlyn, and she
could never regret having her precious girls. Maybe in the course of a
lifetime, things simply happened when they were supposed to.
"Mom, coming home to Chesapeake Shores could open the door to what you
really want. Dad's never stopped loving you, either."
"Oh, sweetie, you are such a romantic. Love doesn't always conquer
everything. Mick's still Mick. His work is still his priority, which means I'd
wind up being all alone and miserable again."
"Not necessarily," Abby insisted. "We're all grown-up now.
There'd be nothing to keep you from traveling with him. And, truthfully, I
don't think he's nearly as driven now as he used to be. I think he stays away
so much because the house is so empty without you there. Come on, Mom, what do
you have to lose? Come for the party. I'll talk to Dad myself and make sure he
doesn't stay away."
Megan regarded her with a contrite expression. "You've had to step into
way too many roles in this family, Abby. I don't want you playing matchmaker,
too, especially between Mick and me."
"Fine. Other than making sure you're in the same town, I'll stay out of
it. You'll talk or you won't. You'll make peace or you won't. It'll be up to
you."
Her mother looked doubtful. "You can really do that? It's your nature to
be a mother hen. You're like Gram in that regard."
"Even Gram knows when to stay out of things. So do I."
"And you'll get me a room at the inn, not insist on having me at the
house?"
"Absolutely."
Megan drew in a deep breath. "Okay, I'll do it," she said decisively.
"What's that your grandmother used to say to all of you? Nothing ventured,
nothing gained."
Abby grinned. "The one I remember is nothing beats a try but a
failure."
"Then I'll venture and I'll try," Megan declared. She studied Abby
worriedly. "But please, sweetie, don't get your hopes up too high. This
thing between Mick and me is complicated. It's not going to be fixed in one weekend.
The same goes for my relationships with your sisters and Connor."
"But if you stay away, nothing has a chance of being fixed at all."
She stood up and leaned down to give her mother a hug. "Now let's get
Carrie and Caitlyn and hit Bloomingdale's. The women in this family need some
knock-'em-dead party frocks."
Her mother's eyebrows rose. "You, too? Whose eye are you hoping to
catch?"
"No one in particular," Abby fibbed.
Megan studied her, her survey thorough, her motherly instincts obviously on high
alert. "That color in your cheeks says otherwise. Have you crossed paths
with Trace again?"
Abby frowned. "Why would you ask that? I haven't seen him in years."
"Because before I left, you two were inseparable, and you looked exactly
the way you do right now. Is he still in town?"
"He is," Abby admitted. "At least for now."
"My, my, this trip could prove even more interesting than I'd already
anticipated."
"I'll tell you what you told me, no matchmaking, okay?"
"The way I remember it, you didn't need any coaching from me." Her
expression sobered. "Don't let him get away again, Abby."
Abby met her gaze. "I could say the same to you."
It was beginning to look as if Jess's grand opening was going to be a night to
remember on several fronts.
Either that or a kickoff for another round of family warfare.

*
* *

Abby had tried to reach Mick the whole time she was in New
York, but either his cell phone was turned off or he was avoiding her calls. Probably
the latter, if she knew her father. He didn't intend to discuss Megan with her,
and he probably knew that was exactly why she was calling.
That night when she spoke to Gram to fill her in on the flight plans for her
return with the girls on Tuesday morning, she said, "When you talk to Dad,
please tell him he can't avoid my calls forever. In fact, if I have to, I'll
hop on a plane and fly to San Francisco and hunt him down."
Gram chuckled at her fierce tone. "You'd do it, too, wouldn't you?"
"In a heartbeat."
"I told him just that last night."
"He admitted he'd been ignoring my calls?"
"He didn't admit a thing. He said he'd missed a few calls from you. I
figured out the rest. I told you he wasn't going to be happy about your
inviting Megan back here."
"Well, she's coming, and the next time you hear from Dad, tell him he'd
better call me ASAP. He's behaving like an immature brat."
"Watch your tongue, young lady. Your mother hurt him badly."
"I know that," Abby said. "So does she."
"Then why on earth is she coming here? She's only going to upset everyone.
I understood her coming around when your brothers and sisters were younger, but
now? If you ask me, it's way too late for her to be coming back to step into
her role as your mother."
"She wants to rectify the mistakes she's made."
"She certainly can't do that in one weekend," Gram said irritably.
"It's just like her to make herself the center of attention on what should
be Jess's big occasion."
Over the years Gram had kept remarkably silent on the subject of Megan. Abby
had always assumed it was because she'd understood both sides in the divorce.
Now it seemed more apparent that she'd bitten her tongue only out of respect
for her grandchildren and their feelings.
"I always thought you loved Mom," Abby said.
"I did. I still do. When she left, it was like losing my own daughter, but
that doesn't mean I approve of what she did. Mothers don't walk away from their
children. They just don't. I don't care what the circumstances are. Leaving
your father, I get that. He was gone more than he was here. Frankly, I always
thought she did it in a desperate attempt to get his attention. She didn't
count on his pride kicking in the way it did. Then things escalated and we
wound up with the mess we're in today."
"I think you're right about that," Abby said.
"Well, be that as it may, she should never have left you, Bree, Jess and
the boys behind. I know Mick talked her into giving him custody and settling
for visitation rights. He made a strong case that you should be in your own
home, surrounded by friends and family, instead of growing up in a strange
city. He bears his share of the blame for what happened, but your mother should
have fought him tooth and nail to have her share of time with all of you."
"Raising us must have been a huge and unfair burden for you," Abby
said.
"Nonsense! You children are my greatest joys. You and your brothers were
mostly grown anyway, so you were never any trouble. Bree was always the quiet,
studious one, sitting upstairs writing in her journal. I know she took your
mother's leaving to heart, but it didn't break her the way it did Jess."
Abby sighed. "It always comes back to Jess, doesn't it? She's the one who
really paid."
"And yet she's working hard to put all those difficult years behind her
and to pull her life together. Now here you go, stirring up bad memories."
The accusation stung. "That's not my intention," Abby told Gram.
"We need Mom back in our lives, even Jess. In fact, especially Jess."
"I hope you're right," Gram said.
"Just make sure Dad calls me, okay?"
"I'll do my best."
"The girls and I will see you tomorrow."
"Now,
that
I'm looking forward to," Gram said, sounding more
cheerful. "Have a safe trip home."
"Love you."
Abby disconnected the call, then headed downstairs to catch a taxi to her
office. Though she'd made a dent in the piles of reports that had accumulated
on her desk in the month she'd been gone, she still had a mountain of work she
wanted to get through before Wes brought the twins home that evening.
To her surprise, though she was thrilled to have the distraction, she wasn't
nearly as eager to plunge into the stock market whirlwind as she usually was.
In fact, to her shock, she was much more excited about the prospect of
returning to Chesapeake Shores—and Trace—in the morning.

*
* *

The ornate gold anniversary clock on the mantel in Abby's
apartment—an ostentatious gift from one of Wes's eccentric, wealthy
aunts—struck ten. Abby struggled not to freak out as she once again dialed Wes's
number, only to have the call go straight to voice mail.
He should have had Carrie and Caitlyn home hours ago. In fact, it was already
two hours past their bedtime, and he knew that. He knew she'd be in a panic.
This was a deliberate attempt to scare her. She didn't for a second believe
that something had happened to them. She wasn't envisioning them in a hospital
or careening through the streets in a runaway taxi. She was envisioning them
all nice and cozy in Wes's apartment, while he debated with himself just how
long to make her sweat.
The stupid clock, which had a gong that could wake the dead, struck the last of
its ten notes, shredding Abby's already-frayed nerves. She grabbed it and
heaved it across the room, wishing Wes were directly in its path. She watched
in satisfaction as it shattered when it hit the floor.
She dialed Wes's home number again and then his cell phone. She got voice mail
on both.
"That's it," she muttered, grabbing her purse and yanking open the
door. She was going over to his apartment and retrieving her girls. First thing
tomorrow, she was going to call her lawyer and do…something. She'd have to
figure out what. Maybe Stella Lavery, who thought she'd been way too easy on
Wes during the divorce, would have some ideas. In fact, she'd probably be
thrilled to have her renowned tactical skills unleashed.
As Abby emerged from the elevator on the first floor, she spotted Wes crossing
the lobby, the girls bouncing along beside him, their little suitcases being
dragged behind them.
"Mommy!" they shouted eagerly, breaking free of their father and
running toward her, the suitcases abandoned in their wake. "We've been to
a movie."
"Really? At this hour of the night?" She turned a hard gaze on her
ex-husband. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
Wes gave her a bland look. "I know it's late, but they don't have to get
up early tomorrow," he said, all innocence. "I didn't think it would
be a problem."
"Actually, they do have to get up early. We have a nine o'clock flight,
which means we have to leave for the airport around seven. You knew that, Wes.
Don't even try to claim you didn't."
Carrie and Caitlyn were frozen between them, looking scared. Abby and Wes had
tried never to fight in front of them, but right this second Abby was so outraged,
she hadn't been able to keep the fury out of her voice. She forced a smile for
their benefit.
"Come on, sweet peas," she said more cheerfully. "Let's get you
upstairs and into bed. We have a big day tomorrow."
"But we have lots to tell you," Carrie protested. "We had the
mostest fun ever with Dad and Gabrielle."
"I'm glad, but you can tell me in the morning," she said firmly. She
cast one more look at Wes. "I'll call you once I get back to Chesapeake
Shores to discuss this. Be sure your phone's on."
"Bye, Daddy," Carrie called out over her shoulder, already skipping
ahead toward the elevator.
Caitlyn, who was quick to sense tensions and take them to heart, lingered
beside her mom. Her hand slipped into Abby's. "Bye, Daddy," she said
sorrowfully, as if somehow fearing that she might not see him again.
Wes's grim expression faded at once. Though his smile didn't quite reach his
eyes, he still tried. "See you soon, angel girl."
Caitlyn's lower lip quivered. "Promise?"
"Always," he said, then turned a warning look on Abby.
"Tomorrow," she said curtly, then walked away.
Inside the elevator, Caitlyn tugged on her hand. "Mommy, are you mad at
Daddy?"
"It's nothing for you to worry about," she assured her.
"Sometimes Mommy and Daddy just have grown-up things to talk about."
"Daddy says we might get to come stay with him all the time," Caitlyn
revealed.
"Caitlyn, you big blabbermouth, be quiet!" Carrie snapped at her.
"We weren't supposed to say anything, remember? Gabrielle said so."
Abby felt as if every breath in her body had been sucked right out of her. By
the time the elevator opened on her floor, she was shaking so badly she could
hardly get her key into the lock.
Inside, she went through the motions of getting the twins ready for bed, tucking
them in and kissing them good-night.
Back in the living room, she poured herself a half inch of brandy to quiet her
nerves, swallowed half of it, and then dialed Trace's number.
"Hey there," he said. "I was hoping you'd call. Everything set
for tomorrow?"
Abby wasted no time on niceties. "Trace, have you done any of that
investigating you were talking about?"
"You mean looking into Wes and what's going on in his life?"
"Yes."
His cheerful tone sobered. "Why? What's happened?"
"Caitlin let something slip tonight. She said they might be going to live
with him all the time. Carrie shushed her up right away and said
Gabrielle—that's Wes's girlfriend—had told them to keep quiet about it."
"It's not going to happen," Trace said fiercely. "I'll get on the
computer tonight and see what I can find. If that doesn't turn up anything,
then we'll hire somebody to dig around. In the meantime, call your lawyer first
thing in the morning to be sure your rights are protected. Don't worry, Abby.
There's not a chance in hell he'll get full custody of those girls. You've done
absolutely nothing that could justify such a thing."
She sighed with relief at the certainty in his voice. Though she felt the same
way, she'd needed reassurance. "God, I wish you were here. I'm so scared,
Trace. I'm spitting mad, too, but the fear is winning."
"The second you get back here tomorrow, we'll turn that around,"
Trace promised. "Nurse the anger, sweetheart. It'll help you to stay
strong."
"No, tonight you're the only thing helping me to stay strong. Thank you
for that. Just hearing the sound of your voice makes me feel better."
"It's going to be okay, Abby. I'll do everything I can to see that it is.
And if I'm not formidable enough, just wait till your father and the rest of
your family get wind of this. The O'Briens are a mighty force when they're
united."
She smiled at that. "Yes, they are."
And luckily, most of them were going to be in Chesapeake Shores in just a
couple of weeks. The thought of them and of Trace was enough to get her through
the night. And first thing tomorrow, she'd turn Stella loose. If Wes thought
for one single second that he could take her girls, he was in for the fight of
his life.

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