Soldier, Handyman, Family Man Read online

  That drew a quick, rye laugh. “I’ve fallen for the silver lining bit before, after Alan’s remission. I believed it would last. Knew it would, because it had to. We had three kids. I’d believed with all my heart that our nightmares were over—only to find two years later that he’d relapsed.”

  “I can only imagine what you’ve been through, all of you.”

  There was no arguing the point. If she wasn’t ready to live, he couldn’t force her—that was another thing he knew firsthand. So he did the only thing he could. He stood and, respecting her wishes, prepared to leave the best surprise he’d found in years. The beautiful B&B lady, who happened to live across the street. “I’m sorry about today, but I understand your decision.”

  Before he closed the front door, he thought he heard her crying. Torn between running back and comforting her or leaving because she’d asked him to, he honored her request.

  *

  Mark walked into his room and found Conor home, sitting on the couch watching sports news.

  “You got a minute to talk?”

  Inquisitive blue eyes flashed from the TV screen to his. “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Besides the fact I blew the best thing I’ve ever had today?” Mark had been changing since getting involved with Laurel, and this was further proof. Instead of shutting down or going off by himself to brood, he was glad his brother was around to talk to. “Did you hear about it?”

  “I was working. Does it have anything to do with that bandage on your head?”

  “Yeah, I thought I was still a kid and decided to try surfing those crazy waves today. Almost got myself killed. Right in front of Laurel and the kids.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “Nope. And it didn’t go over well. Evidently, I put her in shock, and now she doesn’t want to see me anymore.”

  “You’ve got it bad for her, don’t you?”

  “Man, I didn’t think I had it in me anymore, but I do. I want to be with her. But I don’t have anything to offer, and now she’s kicked me to the curb, so what does it matter?”

  “Quit shortchanging yourself.”

  “Dude, I’m a fix-it guy, a handyman.”

  “Who could run a hotel if he wanted to.”

  Mark plopped on the adjacent couch and faced Conor, who clicked off the TV. “That’s the thing, I didn’t think I wanted to. I didn’t want the pressure or to have to make decisions. But lately I keep getting ideas about how to do things better, more efficiently around here. I don’t dare say anything to Dad or Mom because they’d just encourage it.”

  “You’ve always been an organizer.”

  “What?”

  “You started the surf club in high school. And remember when we were kids and you talked Daniel and me into convincing Mom and Dad to take us to Hawaii? You got all those travel brochures and wrote up a presentation for us to give. You covered every angle, and they bought it.”

  Mark smiled remembering the confident kid he’d been back then. “That was a great vacation, too.”

  Conor laughed. “It was, and it would never have happened if you hadn’t come up with ways for all of us to save money for it. That trip was because of you, brother.”

  A crazy image of his grandfather wearing a colorful Hawaiian shirt with equally loud golf shorts made him laugh, too. Just as quickly, he remembered how he’d been a platoon leader in the army because of his organizational skills, and how one of his decisions had put his unit in peril. How they’d taken fire for it and lost people. His decision had cost lives.

  As if reading his mind, Conor leaned forward, an earnest expression in his gaze. “I know you went through some shit in that sandbox over there, man, and you came home changed. But lately you’ve started acting like your old self again, and I’m glad. I missed you. You’re not meant to hide out doing chores for the hotel. You’ve got what it takes to run this place.”

  He didn’t want to hear it, but he also couldn’t deny that lately all kinds of ideas had been popping into his head about The Drumcliffe. Being with Laurel and seeing all of the fine touches she put into her B&B had inspired plans of his own.

  “What if I fail?”

  “Dude, this place has been around so long, it could run itself. All you have to do is try. I think you’re ready for it. And maybe it’s because of Laurel, or maybe it’s because you’ve finally gotten tired of being a slacker. That really never suited you, man. The point is, whatever the reason, it’s time. Step up. You can do it.”

  Mark wished he had one-tenth the confidence in himself Conor had for him. “I’ll think about it.”

  He’d meant to boo-hoo on Conor’s shoulder about Laurel breaking up with him, but something had taken over their conversation and sent it in a completely different direction.

  Maybe every messed-up and confusing thing that had happened today right up to this talk with his brother had happened for a reason. Maybe it was time to step up. For himself. For his parents. For Laurel…if she ever gave him a chance again.

  By now his head was spinning and he couldn’t bear to think of one more thing, so he thanked his brother for the talk, excused himself and went to bed.

  *

  Sunday night, a week later, the family dinner may have been more subdued than usual, but Mark had been doing a lot of soul searching and planned a surprise for his parents. He knew he looked as bad as he felt, having stayed awake nearly every night that week, thinking. Once he told them his conclusion, they might assume he was off his nut, too.

  Part of the reason he didn’t have a comeback with Laurel that night was because he still didn’t know where he was going. Until now he’d been holding out for some reason to take off, to escape the responsibility of the future of the family hotel. But over the past week, after seeing what he’d blown with Laurel, wanting it back more than anything in the world, something changed. He was ready to step up for the family, take on some real responsibility, prove he was a man who could be trusted.

  “Mom and Dad, I just wanted you to know I’m ready for you guys to start transitioning to your retirement.”

  He thought his mother might fall off her chair, and for the first time in ages, he spotted a flash of pride in his father’s eyes. “Any way you want to work this, we’re on board, son,” his father said.

  “You can have as much on-the-job training as you need,” his mother added. “We can start as soon as you’d like.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s sit down with the reservation software and hotel budget a couple hours every morning starting tomorrow, and for however long it takes until I get the hang of it.” That might help keep his mind off the way he’d been spending the best mornings of his life for the last few weeks with Laurel, too.

  Nothing short of surprise brought a broad grin to his father’s face. “You’re on. For as long as you need.”

  “Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard since the boys in green beat Scotland in 2015!” Grandda announced with glee.

  Then they all shook on it, and Mark realized he’d officially changed. Whether Laurel wanted to be in his life right now or not, she’d helped him get here. Never one for being an optimist, he held on to the hope that Laurel might see how he’d impacted her outlook on life, too. Hopefully it would be enough to keep the door open between them, just enough.

  *

  Mark didn’t let the breakup with Laurel keep him from Peter’s surf lessons, either. Each Monday and Wednesday at 4:00 p.m. since the breakup, he met him at the beach, surprised that Laurel still let Peter come. At least she trusted him with something.

  “Mom’s been really sad,” Peter said, while they waited in the water for a wave decent enough to ride.

  It’d been two weeks. “The way to help her is to be there for her. Do stuff without her having to ask. Offer to watch the twins while she does the weekend brunches. You know, things like that.”

  “I don’t understand why she got so mad at you.”

  “I was stupid. Listen, one day you’ll have a girl you l
ike break up with you for something stupid you’ve done. It’s inevitable.”

  “Why?”

  “We guys can’t help it.”

  Peter laughed, and it helped lighten Mark’s mood, but only for the moment.

  “You said that you were friends with my mom like you were friends with me,” Peter said, earnest as hell. “I knew that wasn’t true.”

  They stared at each other, Mark seeing a kid who needed his “friend” to be straight with him.

  “I’ll be honest, I like your mother in a whole different way. Have from the beginning. That’s also something you’ll figure out real soon for yourself.”

  Things went quiet, and they watched for a wave with possibilities. The moments stretched on.

  “Hey, how would you like a part-time job helping with surfing lessons for hotel guests? It wouldn’t necessarily be regular work, it would depend on whether people signed up for it or not. You could be my assistant. What do you think?”

  “You want me to help you?”

  “You’re the perfect choice. You’re my friend and you can give the beginner perspective on things. I thought you might want to earn a little cash, in case there’s a girl you’d like to buy ice cream for or take to the movies. You in?”

  Peter’s amazed expression said it all. “Sure.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll let you know over the next few weeks what we set up.”

  “Okay. Oh, and just so you know, I’m not naive like you think. After I thought about it for a while, I was glad you liked my mom that way,” Peter finally said.

  Surprised, Mark gave the kid a skeptical stare. “Really?”

  “I could tell she liked you a lot. You made her happy. I liked seeing her happy.”

  Peter’s simple comments meant the world to Mark because it gave proof that he’d made Laurel happy, before he’d made his ridiculous mistake. “Except now I’ve made her really sad and angry.”

  “Yeah.”

  The facts were the facts. Even a fourteen-year-old could see that.

  Needing a change in topic, Mark glanced over his shoulder and saw that wave with possibilities. Nothing huge, but completely adequate for Peter’s novice abilities. “Let’s take this one.”

  Peter saw the swell rising and flashed Mark an elated grin. “Let’s do this!”

  Later, when they walked home together, each with a board under his arm, Mark patted Peter on the shoulder when they parted ways. The kid smiled. “I’m gonna tell my mom you said hello.”

  It was Mark’s turn to grin. “You do that,” he said, heading off to his hotel room, thinking it couldn’t hurt to have Laurel’s son on his side.

  *

  A week later, on the first-ever Historical Society house tour, Sunday afternoon, there was a mishap at the Prescott B&B. Along with the leftover storm waves a couple of weeks back came damper weather. A second-floor door stuck so hard, Laurel had to use her shoulder and hip to shove it open. Not the impression she’d hoped to make.

  “As you may know, this is part of dealing with a hundred-and-fifty-year-old house. It’s always a good idea to have a handyman on staff.” Which made her think about Mark for the thousandth time since she’d sent him out of her life. Not in his fix-it-guy mode, no, but for the great guy he was. The one who made her feel again. After that, she struggled to keep her train of thought.

  During the rest of the tour, several other minor but annoying issues made themselves known. A chandelier flickered on and off, one particularly squeaky floorboard every single guest managed to walk over, a constant leak in the antique pedestal sink faucet of suite number three, the very one Mark had promised to fix the day they’d tried out the bathtub. Her face flushed with that memory. What couple would want to listen to that all night on a lovers’ getaway?

  Her mind went directly to Mark again. If they’d ever had a chance to spend the night together, they certainly wouldn’t use it to sleep. But if they happened to be in that room, he would know exactly how to fix the offense. She liked that he was practical in one respect and impractical on the personal side, and sexy as hell. But more, too. Tender. Kind. Patient with her kids. Peter’s self-esteem had doubled since getting surf lessons and learning how to build stuff and paint things, as Peter himself described what he’d learned from their new neighbor. And living with Peter had been easier lately, with him brooding less and drawing more. She’d even caught him playing Candy Land with the girls the other night while she checked in a couple and gave them a quick tour of the B&B. The girls had also learned to pipe down whenever she got a phone call on the reservation line, thanks to Peter giving them the high sign—a finger over the lips as he coerced them down the hall. The kid was stepping up and taking some responsibility since working for Mark.

  For the last two weeks, she’d felt lost at sea, tossed by the waves, helpless, alone. Why? Because she’d banished Mark from her life. Because she was afraid. Afraid of feeling. Afraid of losing. That was no way to live. What about the silver lining? It had to exist.

  She’d taken back some control in her life by buying the B&B and getting her business up and running. She’d enrolled her kids in new schools, and other than the running-away incident with Peter, she’d kept them safe and fed. The twins seemed ridiculously happy with their new bedroom and with going to school, and their new best friend, Anna. They’d be five soon. Growing up fast.

  Peter was working on being less glum and his anger management had improved so much, a huge part of it due to hanging out with Mark. He even seemed to be making friends his own age. Along with developing an unlikely friendship with Maureen Delaney, over their mutual love of drawing and her giving Peter painting lessons with the special portrait of his father in progress. Again, thanks to Mark.

  Laurel took a load of bedding to the laundry chute at the end of the second-floor hall, went to the next guest room, stripped the beds and repeated the walk to the chute. When the sheets and towels were all removed, she took the stairs down to the laundry room just off the kitchen to start the wash. On the way, she passed a window and caught sight of Mark. She stopped and watched as he directed a gardener where to trim some bushes and trees. It occurred to her that he used to do that himself, but she hadn’t seen him out and around the hotel like she used to.

  After Mark finished talking with the gardener, he went inside the hotel office, and only then did Laurel notice he was dressed nicer than usual, like when he’d taken her on their dates. It made her wonder what might be going on with him. It also created a pang of regret and pain in her stomach.

  She’d broken up with him because of what she’d been through with Alan. That wasn’t exactly fair.

  It was time for Laurel to change. To quit letting fear and loss rule her world. Of course, it would be scary to open up to love and loss again, and yes, it wasn’t just about her anymore. Not like when she’d first met Alan, and had only herself to think about. She had children to consider now. Children who’d all been through as much loss as she had, who’d experienced more sadness than any kid should have to already. Yet the girls were blossoming and Peter was coping better than he ever had since he’d lost his dad.

  If life was all about moving forward, where was she? Stuck in a rut. Part of her couldn’t believe she’d ever have to go through the kind of pain and loss she already had ever again. Life should be only a smooth ride from here on out, right? But the other part couldn’t let go of the old helpless freefall into widowhood, the part that fought for her husband’s life to the very end, then couldn’t believe he was gone and would never see his children grow up. That part had ached so deeply for Alan, had grieved to the point of numbness, that it’d become a habit. Along with fear of ever going through that again.

  So the question was, did she want to let those sad old habits control the rest of her life, or should she give the “smooth ride” theory a shot?

  She shoved as much laundry as she could into the washer and set the controls, then went to the kitchen to figure out what to have for lunch.

>   She hadn’t moved here expecting to meet a man, yet practically the very day she’d arrived, he’d dropped into her life to help. To make things better, and to slowly but steadily pry open her heart again. Maybe Padraig Delaney, with his silly selkie theory, had the right idea. Maybe they were meant to meet each other and fall in love. Because that was the real problem, a much greater issue than his making a stupid decision to ride a wave and possibly break his neck. Nope. The trouble was her fear of loving again. With Mark, she’d started to feel unmistakably like the young girl who’d met and fallen head over heels for Alan. Who’d walked on air when he’d told her he loved her. She and Mark may have been working up to that point, but she’d nipped it in the bud. She’d hid behind a self-righteous decision that she couldn’t trust him because he’d made a huge mistake, potentially risking his life. Yet she’d asked him to stand on ladders and crawl onto her roof to fix things with little concern, when he could have gotten injured just as easily at her B&B. She’d trusted him to be careful. Then, at the beach, he wasn’t.

  Was it fair to punish him, when he’d obviously learned his lesson and had the forehead scar to prove it? In punishing him, she was also punishing herself, and the kids. They all missed him. Sure Peter still surfed with him, but they’d all gotten used to Mark having dinner with them a few times a week. And she’d gotten used to a heck of a lot more.

  After a quick sandwich and glass of lemonade, she went back to her chores. Finishing the laundry, cleaning the guest suites.

  It was crazy how hard it had become to clean the upstairs suites. To put fresh linen on the beds she’d made love on with Mark. The reminders made her body ache for him, but her pride kept him away.

  She thought about the man she’d just seen delegating work instead of doing it himself, then dressed for success, heading inside for who knew what.

  Mark seemed so right for her and the kids. Her fear had shut him out, and she’d missed him so much for the past two weeks, she could barely take it. Well, maybe it was her turn to learn a lesson and make some changes.

  Yet it wasn’t that easy anymore. She had to consider her babies.