Gansett Island Episodes: Episode 1: Victoria & Shannon Page 8

The one thing that had helped him then was the same thing that would help him now—Jameson Irish whiskey. He went down the two flights of stairs to the lobby and took a seat at the bar where Chelsea Rose, one of his many new friends on the island, held court most nights.

  She came over to greet him with a smile, placing a cocktail napkin on the dark wood in front of him. “How’re things?”

  “Oh, um, good.” Things were a fecking mess, but she didn’t want to hear that. She was just doing her job, making conversation.

  “What can I get you?”

  “Jameson neat, please.” He usually drank Guinness here, but tonight he needed something more.

  If she was surprised by his drink choice, she didn’t let on. “Coming right up.” She placed the drink on the napkin. “Are you starting a tab?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “No problem. Where’s Vic tonight?” Chelsea punched information into the computer that acted as the register, so she missed the stricken look that crossed his face, but he caught it in the mirror behind the bar.

  “She’s…at home.” He had no idea where she was, and he hated that.

  “Heard she’s had a busy couple of days in the baby business.”

  “Indeed. She’s knackered.” People would find out soon enough that they’d broken up, but no one would hear it from him.

  “Define ‘knackered.’”

  “You would say wiped out.”

  “Ahh, I see. We’re so lucky to have someone with her skills on the island.”

  Shannon nodded in agreement and then focused on his drink, hoping to send the message that he wasn’t in a chatty mood.

  Chelsea moved on to other customers and refilled his glass when he emptied it. She had something friendly to say to everyone who sat at her bar, keeping up a running banter as she served drinks and rang up sales and supported the waitresses and waiters who worked the dinner shift.

  Shannon’s stomach growled, letting him know he needed more than a liquid dinner or he was going to land on his arse before the night was through. On Chelsea’s next pass, he ordered a bowl of New England clam chowder, which had become one of his favorite things to eat since he’d come to Gansett.

  He ate the soup and was working on his third glass of Jameson when someone took the seat next to his. Glancing to the right, he saw Dr. Kevin McCarthy lean over the bar to kiss Chelsea. The two of them had been together for months now. He and Vic had hung out with them a couple of times, and Shannon had enjoyed the doctor’s company as well as his wise insights on life.

  “How’s it going?” Kevin asked Shannon when Chelsea went to tend to customers at the other end of the bar.

  “Good. You?”

  “Never better.” As he spoke, Kevin’s gaze landed on Chelsea. They were madly in love, or so it seemed to Shannon.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “You here by yourself?”

  “Yep.” He didn’t offer any explanation, and Kevin didn’t ask for one. No time like the present to start getting used to flying solo again.

  The two men made small talk as they sipped their drinks and took in the activity around the bar. A solo guitarist, another guy from Ireland named Niall Fitzgerald, added to the atmosphere on the deck that overlooked the ferry landing and South Harbor. Shannon took in the sight of the ferry that would make the first trip off the island tomorrow, a reminder that he wasn’t allowed to go to work for the next three days. What the hell would he do with himself for that long without work or Victoria to be with or anything else to do?

  He rubbed his chest, hoping the panicky feeling would subside.

  “What’s the matter with you tonight?” Kevin asked, shocking Shannon out of his ruminations.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re wired and antsy and drinking like a man looking for oblivion.”

  “Don’t shrink me, Doc.” The comment came out more harshly than Shannon had intended.

  “I’m not. Just commenting on what I’m seeing.”

  Shannon had no response to that.

  “What happened to your hand?” Kevin asked, nodding toward Shannon’s bruised and swollen knuckles.

  “Got it caught in a door at work.”

  “Ouch.” Kevin took a drink from the beer he’d been nursing for an hour now. “So, hey, I was talking to an old college friend of mine today. He just got back from a trip to Ireland. Said the highlight was Killarney. You ever been there?”

  Relieved by the new topic that didn’t focus on what was wrong with him, Shannon nodded. “It’s down in County Kerry. Nice place.”

  “You from anywhere near there?”

  He shook his head. “My family is from Wicklow on the Irish Sea side. Kerry is on the Atlantic side.”

  “Ahh, gotcha. I told him I had a friend named Shannon, and he said that’s not a very common name for men in Ireland.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Shannon said with a grunt of laughter. “It was my mother’s maiden name. She thought it would be unique. It’s given me more grief than anything.”

  “Oh, I see. That makes sense.”

  “Glad it does to you.”

  “Visiting Ireland is on my bucket list.”

  “You’ll like it.”

  “I have no doubt I’ll love it. You ever get homesick?”

  The question hit Shannon squarely in the chest. He hadn’t been. “Not really. I like it here.” Or he’d liked it here until today, when it all went to shite. I love you, Shannon. I’m in love with you. I want a life with you. I want us to have so much more than a shared address, a shared bed and the best sex I’ve ever had. I want a family. I want kids and a husband and a commitment from a man who loves me and only me. I want the fairy tale.

  He couldn’t stop seeing her tears or the imploring expression on her lovely face. His Vic didn’t cry or beg. His Vic was a joyful, happy person, and he’d reduced her to tears.

  “Where’d you go, man?” Kevin asked.

  Shannon realized he’d checked out of the conversation. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  “I was just saying how much I like it here, too.” As he spoke, Kevin’s gaze landed on Chelsea. “Feels like home.”

  Shannon took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Gansett did feel like home, or it had while he was with Vic in their little house. Now, home was a tiny temporary room in a hotel. Goddamn, he’d made a fecking mess of things. He pointed to his glass, asking Chelsea for a refill. Was that his third or fourth? He’d lost count.

  Niall took a break and came over to say hello, shaking Shannon’s sore hand, which hurt like a bugger, and clapping him on the back. They’d met months ago right here at the Beachcomber, bonding over their shared heritage. Niall’s dark brown hair was cut short, and he had big blue eyes that the ladies went nuts over.

  “You know Kevin McCarthy?” Shannon asked.

  “I do.” Niall shook Kevin’s hand. “Nice to see you again, Doc.”

  “Likewise,” Kevin said. “Love your music.”

  “Thanks, mate.” To Shannon, Niall said, “Where’s Vic tonight?”

  The ache in Shannon’s chest intensified every time someone asked for her. He supposed he’d have to get used to that. “Taking the night off,” Shannon replied as he took a deep slug of whiskey, relishing the burn of it landing in his gut.

  Niall visited with them for a few minutes. “I’ve got something for you in the next set,” he said to Shannon before he moved on to greet other friends.

  “Nice guy,” Kevin said.

  “Yeah, he’s great. He’s a big deal back home. Came here to record with Evan at the studio,” Shannon said of Kevin’s nephew, Evan McCarthy, who owned Island Breeze Records. “Hoping to break out in the US.”

  “He’s sure got the talent, and with Evan on his side, he’ll get there.”

  A few minutes later, Niall returned to his post on the deck. “Sending this one out to my buddy Shannon and all my fellow Irishmen.”

  As Niall played the opening notes of “In the Rare Old
Times,” a song made famous at home by The Dubliners, the pain in Shannon’s chest became so intense, he feared he might be having a heart attack. The song had been one of Fiona’s favorites, and it brought back a tsunami of memories that, combined with his intake of whiskey, threatened to wreck him.

  “Doc,” he whispered to Kevin. “I… I need a friend. Get me out of here, will you?”

  To his credit, Kevin didn’t ask any questions. He signaled to Chelsea to let her know they were leaving.

  “My tab…”

  “I’ve got it. No worries.”

  Shannon didn’t have the ability to argue. He’d square up with him later, when he could breathe again.

  Kevin took him by the arm and escorted him out of the bar. Thankfully, Niall was engaged with his audience and didn’t see them leave. They went out the back way and followed a crushed-shell pathway to a nearby set of stairs. “Go on up,” Kevin said.

  “What is this place?”

  “My office.”

  Shannon trudged up the stairs and stepped aside to let Kevin unlock the door at the top. He ushered Shannon into the dark space and turned on a light.

  “Have a seat.”

  Shannon landed in the first chair he encountered, dropping his head into his hands. How had it come to this? How had everything fallen apart again so suddenly, the same way it had once before?

  “Drink this,” Kevin said, handing him a bottle of water.

  Shannon opened the bottle and took a drink, letting the cool liquid soothe his parched throat.

  Kevin sat in the seat across from him and appeared to wait for him to say something.

  Shannon appreciated that Kevin didn’t push him, but let him know he was there if Shannon wanted to talk about it. He didn’t. Not really, but the pain inside him was unbearable enough that it compelled him to speak.

  “I’ve royally fecked it up with Vic.”

  “How so?”

  “I kept something big from her the whole time we’ve been together.”

  “What did you keep from her?”

  Shannon kept his gaze trained on the floor, visions of Fiona alive and dead spiraling through his mind like a kaleidoscope of soaring highs and the most crushing of lows.

  “Nine years ago,” he began haltingly, “my girlfriend, Fiona, was raped and murdered in our flat in Dublin. We’d been together since we were fifteen.”

  Kevin’s deep sigh said it all. “Start at the beginning.”

  * * *

  Blaine walked baby Adeline from one end of the house to the other, patting her back and putting a gentle bounce in his step the way he’d seen Tiffany do earlier. As she’d practically been asleep on her feet, he’d sent her to bed, assuring her he could handle baby duty for a couple of hours on his own.

  He’d never in his life been so intimidated by a seven-pound being who held his heart firmly in the grasp of her tiny hand. She looked up at him with big eyes that couldn’t make out much of anything yet, or so Tiffany had told him. But she seemed to be studying him with wisdom well beyond her one day of life.

  “I bet you’re going to be a genius. One of those exceptional kids who skips grades and graduates early from college.”

  He laughed at his own silliness and continued to stare down at her, fascinated by every movement of her lips, every expression on her face. Hell, everything she did fascinated him. To think that he and Tiffany had created this new life together was among the most overwhelming things he’d encountered yet in his life.

  Sitting on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table and the baby propped on his legs, he was thrilled by the squeeze of her hands around his index fingers.

  “The first time I ever saw your mom, I knew she was going to change my life. She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, until I met your sister, Ashleigh, and found out there were two beautiful girls to love. And now there’re three of you. That makes me the luckiest guy who ever lived. You know that?”

  Her lips made an adorable little bow, and then she blew out spit bubbles that made him laugh. “You’ll go easy on your dear old dad, won’t you? You should know from the beginning that I’m going to be kind of a pain about boys and all that nonsense. I know what they want, and they aren’t getting it from my girls. I’ll throw them in jail if they even look at you or your sister.”

  She did some more gurgling, perhaps in protest of his stance on boys.

  “We might be getting a little ahead of ourselves talking about that now, but it’s probably best if you know my position on these things from the beginning.”

  A soft tap on the back door had Blaine collecting the baby and rising to let in his brother-in-law, Mac McCarthy.

  “Did you get my text?” Mac asked.

  “Nope. Haven’t been near my phone all day.”

  “Ashleigh forgot Boo Boo Blankie when she was here earlier, and there’s a bit of a meltdown going on at my house. I told her I’d come get it.”

  “Oh damn, thank you. She won’t sleep without Boo Boo. Let me get it for you.” Blaine went up to Ashleigh’s room and retrieved the beloved blanket. They’d had to buy a second one for when the original was in the wash. “Are you going to have a blankie, too?” he asked Addie, who stared up at him with those big eyes. He was convinced that she saw him clearly and knew exactly who he was. All the times he’d talked to her through Tiff’s belly had paid off. She knew her daddy’s voice.

  Blaine took the blanket downstairs and handed it over to Mac. “Thanks for coming to get it.”

  “No need to thank me. We’re all looking forward to actually sleeping tonight.”

  Knowing full well how Ashleigh was about that blanket, Blaine laughed. “At least someone will be sleeping tonight. Little Miss Addie is wide awake.”

  “How’s she doing?” Mac asked, gazing down at her.

  “She’s great. We’ve been having a nice little talk about boys and how I’ll throw them all in jail if they step out of line.”

  Mac laughed so hard, he startled the baby. “Sorry.”

  “Is it always like this?” Blaine asked his longtime friend who was now his brother-in-law, too.

  “Like what?”

  “So intense that you feel like your nerve endings are on fire or something.” He couldn’t describe the feelings that were all new to him.

  “Nah. You get used to it after a while, and you settle into the new normal.”

  “That’s good, because I don’t know if I could handle this much emotion on a daily basis.”

  “When Maddie had Thomas, one of the ladies she worked with at the hotel gave her a pillow that said motherhood is like having your heart walking around outside your body. If you do it right, and you totally will, fatherhood is like that, too. It’s not just about you anymore. It’s about something so much bigger than you’ll ever be.”

  “Yeah,” Blaine said, gazing down at the tiny face that had become the center of his universe in one momentous day. “That’s very true.”

  “You got this.” Mac squeezed his shoulder. “And now I’m off to pacify your other little girl.”

  “You’re the best uncle ever. Thanks for having Ash.”

  “We love having her. She keeps Thomas and Hailey thoroughly entertained.”

  “We’ll talk to you guys in the morning.”

  “Try to sleep when she does,” Mac said. “That’ll be critical for the next couple of months.”

  “Will do.” Blaine saw him out and locked the door behind him. “What should we do now?” he asked Addie. “Want to watch some Sports Center? Or maybe Cops is on and you can see how Daddy catches the bad guys. Not too many of them on Gansett Island, thankfully. It’s more about the fools who don’t know when to quit drinking around here.”

  “What’re you telling her?” Tiffany asked as she came downstairs wearing a silk gown that showed off her incredible pregnancy curves. She’d told him they didn’t get to keep the much bigger than usual breasts, so he’d enjoy them while he could.

  “It’s between my d
aughter and me. No mommies allowed. And why aren’t you sleeping?”

  Tiffany sat gingerly next to them on the sofa, grimacing from the pain. “Did I hear Mac down here?”

  “You did. He came to get Boo Boo Blankie, which Ashleigh left here earlier.”

  “Oh jeez. How did we let her forget that?”

  “A few other things on our minds today.”

  “How’s she doing?” Tiffany asked, leaning in for a closer look at the baby.

  “She’s doing great. In fact, I think it’s possible she might be intellectually advanced.”

  “And you can tell this how?” she asked dryly.

  “She gurgles at all the right times, like she’s trying to talk to me.”

  “I hate to tell you, but that probably means she has gas.”

  “Don’t listen to Mommy. You don’t have gas. Daddy knows best, and he says you’re a genius.” He couldn’t stop staring at the baby. “Look at her. Have you ever seen anything more perfect than she is?”

  “Only her sister at the same age. She looks just like Ashleigh did.”

  “I know. I’ve seen the pictures. I’m going to have two daughters who look just like their hot babe mother. What did I ever do to deserve such a burden?”

  Tiffany laughed. “You fell in love with the wrong woman.”

  “No, baby,” he said, stealing a kiss. “I fell in love with the best woman in the whole wide world, and she’s made me so much happier than I ever knew I could be.”

  Tiffany rested her head on his shoulder. “You’ve made her just as happy.”

  Chapter 9

  George Alexander Martinez II had one hell of a set of lungs on him, and he was giving them a full workout as his dad tried to settle him. But nothing Alex did would calm the little guy.

  “Come on, buddy. Tell me what you need. Mommy fed you, your diaper is dry and you had a good long nap. What’s the problem?”

  Unfortunately, little George had no response to his father’s query. For the hundredth time since George arrived, Alex lamented that babies didn’t come with handbooks that told clueless dads what to do when their wives were off getting some much-needed sleep and they were left in charge of their precious bundle of joy.