A Chesapeake Shores Christmas. Sherryl Woods
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The whole conversation with Kevin had left him more disgruntled than ever. He was in no mood to call Megan, but judging from the message she’d sent via Abby, he didn’t have a choice. Maybe he could bluster his way through it.
He walked down to Shore Road, found an unoccupied bench facing the bay where cell phone reception would be good, then placed the call.
“Meggie, my love, how are you?” he said exuberantly when she answered.
“I was better before you started avoiding me,” she said, her tone testy. “What’s going on, Mick? Don’t you dare lie to me and tell me it’s nothing.”
“Just a little glitch,” he claimed. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Mick O’Brien!”
“I’m telling you everything’s going to work out. Don’t you have that big show at the gallery this week? Tell me about that. Is everything coming together? I’m planning on flying up, you know.”
“Do not change the subject on me,” she said. “I want to know what’s going on. I’m not some outsider. Nor do I need to be protected from things.”
“Is this another of those partnership things you keep bringing up?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what it is,” she told him. “If there is anything going on with our family, then I need to be kept in the loop.”
Mick debated continuing with further evasiveness, but he could tell from her tone that she was losing patience. Sooner or later she’d learn the truth. She might as well hear it from him. At least he could put the best possible spin on it, assuming he could come up with one.
“I stopped by to see Connor the other day,” he admitted eventually. “After I dropped you at the airport, in fact.”
“And the two of you fought,” she guessed at once. “Oh, Mick, why couldn’t you just leave it alone? I warned you he needed more time.”
“With a wedding in a couple of months, time is exactly what we don’t have. I decided to move things along.”
“What happened?”
“I just told you. I went to see our son,” he said defensively.
“And?”
“I couldn’t make him see reason,” he admitted.
“In other words, he’s still opposed to our marriage.”
“You could say that.”
“Well, thank goodness Thanksgiving is right around the corner. We’ll all be together then. If we can get Connor to come for the whole holiday weekend, it’ll give me more time to get through to him. And you can use the time to apologize for whatever you said.”
“I don’t owe him an apology,” Mick said indignantly. “He’s the one who ought to be apologizing for trying to interfere in our plans. He told me about that ridiculous prenuptial agreement he wants us to sign. I told him I wasn’t interested.”
Megan fell silent. Mick was tempted to fill the void, but he knew perfectly well that the odds were he’d only make matters worse.
“Mick, how bad did things get between you and Connor?” Megan asked eventually, her voice filled with trepidation.
“He said some things,” Mick admitted. “I said some things. It might have gotten a little heated.”
Megan groaned. “I know what that means. It means it all got wildly out of hand.”
“It wasn’t all my fault,” he insisted.
“Maybe not, but it’s up to you to make it right,” she told him emphatically. “I mean it, Mick. Talk to Connor and settle this.”
“It’s already settled,” he said stubbornly.
“Meaning you’ve dug in your heels and so has he,” she said wearily. “Okay, I’ll call him and try to smooth things over. Maybe we can bond over how infuriating we both find you to be.”
“No,” he said hurriedly. “Leave it alone, Megan. I insist that you stay out of it.”
“Excuse me?” she said, her voice soft and deadly calm.
“I didn’t mean to make it sound like an order,” he said, scrambling to soothe her ruffled feathers. “It’s just that I need to deal with Connor.”
“Then do it,” she said direly. “Call me and let me know how it goes.”
“Will do,” he said as if it were going to be a quick fix.
When she’d hung up, Mick breathed a sigh of relief. As bad as the conversation had been, somehow he’d managed to avoid telling her that he’d banished Connor from Chesapeake Shores. Which meant he either had to get his son home for Thanksgiving or prepare to cancel his plans for a wedding on New Year’s Eve.
4
It was two days before Thanksgiving before Megan came back to Chesapeake Shores. Though there had been precious little time for anything other than preparations for their big show opening, she’d managed to have at least a few conversations with Phillip about starting a gallery of her own. She had pages of notes she wanted to go over during the long holiday weekend. He’d given her a lot of things to think about.
Though Phillip was willing to consider a branch of his Upper East Side gallery, they’d both agreed she might be happier with a business over which she had total control. Phillip would act as her mentor and would help her to arrange shows with some of his regular artists, most of whom she’d come to know well over the years. Many would be happy to have a new outlet for their work.
Megan had enough savings to get things in motion, but she would need additional capital to operate for the first year. She planned to see Lawrence Riley—her son-in-law Trace’s father—at the bank over the next couple of days to discuss a small business loan. She was optimistic that her experience in New York, combined with the business plan she’d devised with Phillip’s help, would be enough to impress the bank president.
Despite her determination to do all of this on her own, she was realistic enough to understand that her remarriage to Mick would come into play. Somehow, though, she would find a way to show Lawrence Riley and everyone else here in town that she might be Mrs. Mick O’Brien once more, but she nevertheless had her own separate and independent life. It would probably be difficult for some people to adjust to that idea, but she wanted to start that process now.
Beyond her business plans, there were a million and one details to finalize even for the small family wedding that she and Mick envisioned. Not the least of the things she hoped to accomplish was building on the overture she’d made to Connor on her last visit.