Chances Are (48 page)

“I would have known,” she persisted, a lioness protecting her memories from harm. “I always knew.”

“I’m glad for you,” he said after a moment. “If I had to lose you to him, I’m glad he finally realized what he had.”

He told her about his brief marriage and how much he regretted hurting an innocent bystander with the wreckage of his dreams of a life with Claire. “I married her in Paris not long after I saw you on the Boardwalk.”

“How long did it last?”

“Less than a year. She had one major flaw: she wasn’t you.”

“Maybe you should have tried harder. My father always said the first ten years of marriage were like a shakedown cruise. You couldn’t fix the problems until you figured out where they were hiding.”

“We did the right thing. She’s remarried and the mother of three. She sends me a thank-you note every Christmas.”

She looked at her watch. “Damn. I have to leave in ten minutes. Billy has a dentist appointment, and I have to swing by the bar and pick him up.”

“How does it feel having just one kid at home these days?”

“Strange,” she admitted. He had known her as the mother of four kids under the age of twelve. “The house seems very empty.”

“Show me your brood,” he said as they walked back to their cars. “They must be pretty grown up now.”

“You wouldn’t recognize the little ones. The twins are both five-ten,” she said, “and Maire’s closing in on them fast.”

“You have pictures with you, don’t you?”

“You must be kidding.” Her organizer bulged with them. They leaned against her car as she showed him a sampling, complete with narration. “That’s Maire . . . she’s in Ireland right now . . . she’ll be back home in a few weeks . . . Courtney and Willow are in the military . . . that picture was taken the day they left for basic training . . . you saw Kathleen . . . here’s one of her at the beach last year . . . she had a rough go of it, but look how amazing she is . . . and of course you know Billy Jr.”

He reached for the photo and looked at it closely. “That kid has a great face.”

She beamed with pride. “Doesn’t he?”

“Cleft chin,” Corin noted. “You don’t see that very often.”

“I told him he had a Kirk Douglas chin, and he looked at me and said, ‘Who’s Kirk Douglas?’ Talk about feeling like a dinosaur.” She gathered up the photos and stuffed them back into the organizer. “I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

“Then don’t. We could get some takeout and have a picnic on the beach.”

“I have to. He has a dentist appointment.”

Given a choice, it would always be family. She was made that way, and nothing, not even the way he made her feel, could change that. But that didn’t diminish the power of her emotions where he was concerned.
Tell him what you’re thinking. Don’t let him leave without hearing you say the words.

She touched his hand in a tentative, uncertain gesture. “I’ve missed you.” His phone calls. His letters. The sound of his voice. “Your friendship meant so much to me.”

“Past tense?” His expression was rueful.

“You know what I’m saying.” The sexual chemistry between them had been undeniable, but it was the unexpected gift of friendship that had stolen her heart. “Soul mates don’t come back into your life every day of the week. We have some catching up to do.”

He had a way of looking at her that made her feel loved, safe in the way a woman needed to feel safe in order to blossom and grow.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I won’t ask you to go steady with me until I come back from Malaysia.”

She started to laugh, the kind of laugh she had lost many years ago. “Do I get to wear your class ring?”

“Depends what your boyfriend has to say about that.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“What about that guy I saw you with Friday morning?”

“That was our first date.”

“Will there be a second?”

“He took me to dinner Saturday night.”

“You like him.”

“He’s very likable.”

“Any plans for a third?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Part of that is up to him, isn’t it?”

“I’m not afraid of competition.” He turned her hand over and kissed the palm, making her shiver. “This is only the beginning, Claire,” he said. “Are you willing to see where the road takes us?”

 
CLAIRE DROVE BACK into town in a state of elation, confusion, and almost giddy excitement.

He had asked if she was willing to see where the road took them. There were no guarantees. They both knew life didn’t come with any. He lived out of a backpack. Her roots grew deep in a sleepy Jersey Shore town. Family life was a mystery to him. Living without the support of her own blood was even more of a mystery to her.

She didn’t care. Change was in the air, and she wanted to embrace it wherever she found it. Deciding to leave the safe cocoon of O’Malley’s for the uncertainty of Cuppa was the first of many steps toward some big, unknowable future that had the chance to be disastrous or wonderful or something in between.

They made no promises. They told no lies. They had seen too much, been hurt too often, for anything but the clear-eyed truth. Hopeful romantics, that was what they were. Old enough to know better but young enough to still believe happiness was possible.

She even looked different. She kept stealing glances at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She looked happy, like a woman with a delicious secret she wasn’t quite ready to share with the world. Corin was leaving tonight for Malaysia, but even that wasn’t enough to dim her sense of optimism and hope. If what they had was real, it would still be there when he returned at the end of the summer. No matter how it played out, where that road he talked about led them, nobody could take away the unexpected gift of this single hour together on a strip of Jersey Shore.

She whipped into the parking lot behind O’Malley’s just shy of five-thirty. The place was packed for a Monday afternoon, and she was glad. She wanted the bar to take off like a skyrocket on the Fourth of July. It was long past time for the O’Malley luck to change.

Aidan and Billy Jr. were in the back. Billy was washing down a plate of brownies with milk from his favorite beer stein, while Aidan chopped onions for the ubiquitous vat of chili.

“Hey, guys,” she said then turned to her son. “Better go brush your teeth, Billy. Dr. Danzig isn’t going to be very happy with all that chocolate.”

“Can’t,” her offspring said. “I don’t have a toothbrush.”

She reached into her tote bag and withdrew a toothbrush and a tube of Colgate. “Nice try,” she said as she handed them over to him. “Now get going. Your appointment’s in twenty minutes.”

“You’re in a better mood than you were when you left,” Aidan observed as Billy grumbled his way into the bathroom. “Did Mike get settled in at Lilly’s place?”

She stared at him for a second, struggling to figure out what he was talking about. “Yeah,” she said finally, “but he was seriously pissed when I handed over his Dentu-Creme to Lilly. He actually thought she didn’t know.”

“His teeth were in a glass on his nightstand,” Aidan said, laughing. “How the hell was he planning to explain that?”

“Love is blind.” She grabbed a chunk of green pepper from the bowl on the work counter.

“Toss me another onion from the basket, would you?”

“Big or small?”

“Big.”

She chose one the size of a softball and lobbed it to him. “Speaking of being pissed, I wish to hell you hadn’t lied to me about Kelly.”

“I thought we went through that before. She asked Maddy to look for a dress with her. Don’t go reading more into it than there is, Red.”

“Cut the bull, Aidan. I know where they went. I saw Maddy’s car.”

He narrowed his eyes in the same way his brother used to do when he had the feeling he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. “Where did you see her car?”

“The women’s health center out past the bridge. Did you think I was going to freak out because she wanted birth control? Okay, so maybe I’m a little hurt that she turned to Maddy, but I’m not stupid. I know she’s practically grown now. I know she and Seth—” She stopped at the look on his face. “You really did think they were out shopping for a dress, didn’t you?”

His expression said it all.

Oh God,
she thought as Billy Jr. raced back into the room.
What on earth have I done?

“MORE TEA, ANYONE?” The waitress tried hard not to look in Kelly’s direction, which probably wasn’t easy since she was crying loud enough to be heard in Philly.

“Just the chicken rice soup, please,” Maddy said, “as soon as it’s ready.”

The waitress nodded and hurried off to the kitchen.

“I don’t want the soup,” Kelly managed between bouts of tears. “I hate chicken rice soup.”

“It’s medicinal,” Maddy said. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Maddy sounded the way Kelly had imagined her own mother would sound, firm but loving, her voice more healing than any soup could possibly be.

Which, of course, only made her cry harder.

“Drink some water,” Maddy said. “You’ll dehydrate.”

Kelly obediently did what she was told. She took two big sips of icy water, then put the glass back down on the paper place mat.

“I can’t believe I did it,” she said. “I just can’t believe it.”

Maddy reached across the table and took her hand. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You did what you thought was right.”

“But what if I’m wrong? What if—”

“Here we go, ladies.” The waitress deposited steaming bowls of chicken and rice soup in front of them. “If you need me, let out a yell.”

“I hate chicken and rice soup,” Kelly said again, peering down at the bowl.

“So do I,” Maddy said, “but I’m my mother’s daughter.

The medicinal value of chicken soup was too strong for me to resist.”

Kelly started to laugh but quickly dissolved back into tears. She had started crying within moments of leaving the Women’s Health Cooperative over an hour ago, and so far she hadn’t been able to stem the tide.

“Come on,” Maddy urged. “Eat. You need your strength.”

“Those little ricey bits are disgusting.”

“You sound just like Hannah.”

She took a spoonful then pushed the bowl away. “Will you tell my father?”

Maddy looked up, eyes wide with surprise. “I promised you I wouldn’t say anything, and I meant it, honey. That’s your decision to make, not mine.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I
want
you to tell Daddy.”

For a second she was afraid Maddy was going to get up and head for the door, and she held her breath.
Please don’t go . . . please don’t leave me here.

“Kelly, do you really think that’s the right thing to do?”

“Please! You have to help me. He’s going to be so hurt, Maddy!” She was crying so hard she could barely manage to push out her words. “He’s always been so proud of me, and now I’ve ruined everything.” She struggled to pull her emotions back from the edge. “All you have to do is tell him, and I’ll do everything else. Just break the news to him, and I swear I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

 
LASSITER AND HIS crew were still up in Surf City when Corin got back to the B and B. He walked straight over to the tape recorder Crystal had been using and pressed the Play button.

Gina’s voice was instantly identifiable through the raucous laughter and loud music of the karaoke bar, but her words were difficult to decipher. He raised the volume and leaned closer. Crystal was a clever woman, and she saved tape by clicking on and off when Gina wandered away from the table in search of another margarita. Neither one of them was much of a singer. He winced as Gina’s throaty alto attempted to scale Whitney Houston heights in a painful rendition of “I Will Always Love You.”

There had to be more to the tape than this. His mind started to drift toward Claire, when Gina’s voice pulled him back.
Shit.
He rewound, then hit the Play button again, listening carefully. Her words were slurred, but he had no trouble understanding her. His suspicions were right. The resemblance between Claire’s son and Gina’s boy wasn’t coincidental.

Gina and Billy O’Malley had stayed away from each other for a few years, when they slipped and made love one afternoon. He didn’t know if it had been lust or boredom driving them, but this time their luck ran out, and Gina became pregnant.

“I asked him to come over that last morning. I had just found out I was pregnant, and I knew it was his because—well, figure it out for yourself, okay? Anyway, I told him, and he was . . . he came apart . . . all he kept talking about was Claire and his kids . . . what this would do to them . . . and I said you never gave a shit before . . . why do you suddenly give a damn how they feel . . . I was angry and hurt . . . we had been together off and on for almost twenty years, and this was our baby I was carrying . . . anyway we had a fight . . . the worst one ever, and I knew . . . and it was still going on when we heard the fire alarms going off . . . he had to go . . . it scared me, he was so out of his head with anger . . . be careful I told him right after I said he should go fuck himself . . . don’t drive like a maniac . . . do you know he actually hit my mailbox when he was pulling out of my driveway . . . sometimes I think that’s why . . . you know . . . that’s why he got trapped in the warehouse . . . he wasn’t thinking . . . couldn’t concentrate . . . I wish . . . shit . . . I wish—”

Her anguish was unmistakable, and he felt a sudden and surprising flash of remorse for all the lives that had been irrevocably changed by Billy’s fatal weakness.

Claire’s words from earlier that afternoon came back to him.