Suddenly Mine, page 34
Maybe he should go back to his own apartment in Myrtle Beach. Maybe being here, surrounded by his parents and family, was doing more harm than good. He was being coddled and cared for, and it was making him lazy. If he was back at his place, he’d be forced to do more for himself and maybe—just maybe—he’d be able to speed up his recovery.
Mind made up, Bobby looked around the room. It was a mess—that was a given—but with a little effort, he could get his laundry done and pack. Then, once his parents were back, he could talk to his father about driving him home in the morning. Yes. That was what he wanted to do. It was time to stop feeling sorry for himself and start being an active participant in his recovery. If he wanted to go back to work full-time in his regular position, he needed to take this seriously.
Rehab? He’d do it. He wasn’t afraid of hard work or a challenge, but he had most certainly gotten lazy and it was time for that to end.
Standing, he began collecting clothes and throwing them in the hamper. With the first load going in the laundry room, he straightened up. No doubt his mother would strip his room down after he left and scrub it from top to bottom, so he didn’t need to go crazy, but he still needed to put in the effort to clear off the surfaces and throw out any trash.
Moving around the house, he picked up his personal items and organized his packing. Within an hour, he’d made a pretty good dent in it all. Time for a break. He went down to the kitchen and grabbed a beer before stepping outside onto the back deck for a little fresh air.
Off in the distance he could hear laughter. The Shaughnessys’ yard was right on the other side of the fence. He could hear the kids chasing each other and squealing with laughter, adult voices calling for them to calm down. He smiled, remembering the days when he was one of those kids. This had been a great place to grow up, lots of great memories. And at any other time in his life, he’d be seriously thrilled to be here. But until he got himself together and healed, this wasn’t working for him.
Glancing over at the yard, he saw the smoke billowing from the barbecue and he could smell all the great things they were cooking. Their cookouts were always the same menu—burgers, hot dogs, chicken. On top of that, his mom had made her famous macaroni salad, along with several cakes. No doubt Anna made her potato salad, too. All of his favorites were just a few yards away. Taking a swig of his beer, Bobby had to wonder what harm it would do to just go over and grab something to eat and say hello? He didn’t have to stay long, and really, it was the polite thing to do.
His stomach growled just then—manners really had nothing to do with it.
Turning, he walked back into the house, pulled on a pair of sneakers, and made sure he didn’t look too disheveled. At closer inspection he noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and wistfully longed for a good night’s sleep where he could toss and turn and move around as much as he wanted without setting his shoulder on fire.
“Soon,” he said to himself. “Soon.”
Grabbing his sunglasses, he put them on and made his way across the front yard to the Shaughnessys. Stepping into their backyard through the side gate, he saw that just about everyone was there—Aidan and Zoe, Hugh and Aubrey, Quinn and Anna, and Owen and Brooke—along with all their kids. For a moment he stood by the gate and just took it all in.
His parents were talking with Ian and Martha and…some other couple. Who were they? Then he remembered the faces he’d caught through the car window—Ian’s cousins. The third couple who’d gone on the cruise.
“Hey! Look who decided to join us!” his sister called out with a smile, making her way over to him. She had Bailey in her arms and he silently prayed she wouldn’t ask him to hold her. When she reached him, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “We were wondering if you were going to come over.”
“Yeah, well…you know. Food.”
Anna laughed. “You’re sounding a little caveman-ish. You need to be among people again.” Then she took him by the hand and led him into the yard. Everyone called out a greeting and he smiled and waved.
It was controlled chaos, a dozen different things going on—kids playing, people eating, a game of basketball in the corner of the yard—and right in the middle of it all, his brother-in-law loudly telling a story about one of his latest classic car rehabs.
Typical. When Quinn Shaughnessy had an audience, he loved to brag on himself.
“Go and make yourself a plate,” Anna said from beside him. “I’ll grab you a beer.”
“Thanks.” Walking over to the long table covered in food, he made small talk with Hugh Shaughnessy.
“How are you feeling?” Hugh asked.
Bobby shrugged, then winced. “I’m healing at a snail’s pace,” he responded, while internally cursing how awkward it was to pile food on his carefully balanced plate while making his way down the line one-handed.
Hugh chuckled. “You never were very patient. These things take time, right?”
He nodded, because saying anything would run the risk of him making a snarky comment, and Hugh didn’t deserve that. “What about you? What’s new with you and the family?”
“We’re waiting on a baby,” he said, smiling. “If all goes as planned, we should be expecting a call in another six weeks.”
Bobby looked up with wide eyes. “Seriously? That’s awesome!” He put his plate down and clapped Hugh on the shoulder. “Congratulations! I thought adoptions took much longer.”
Hugh shrugged. “The entire process feels that way. Between all the paperwork and waiting for a match, it feels like it’s been forever. But now we’re in major countdown mode.”
“Do you know what you’re…you know…having?”
“A girl,” he said, his smile growing. “The sonogram showed a girl. Aubrey’s thrilled. Hell, I’m thrilled!”
“I’m happy for you, Hugh. Really, that’s great news!” Before he could say anything else, Aubrey called out for Hugh to bring another hot dog for their son Connor. Bobby stood there and watched his friend join his family.
With a sigh, he made his way slowly toward the end of the table, taking a little of this and a little of that as he went. The closer he got to the end, the louder Quinn was. He rolled his eyes and reached for a couple of brownies to top off his mountain of food.
“Seriously, is he always like this?” he heard someone ask.
Standing off to the left was a woman he’d never seen before. He studied her for a moment, unsure if she was talking to him or to herself. Then she looked at him and for a second, Bobby couldn’t breathe.
Blue eyes so dark they were almost black stared up at him. Her eyes were wide without trying and he was thankful for his sunglasses, because he knew he was staring. She had dark, wavy hair that rested on her bare shoulders. She wasn’t petite, but she was certainly shorter than him by about six or seven inches, and she had the perfect amount of curves.
His mouth instantly went dry.
“I mean, he hasn’t stopped talking about himself for the last twenty minutes,” she said with a conspirator’s grin, her voice low and just a little husky with a hint of humor. She looked at Quinn and then back at Bobby. “Someone should really tell him to shut it for a while and give other people a chance to talk.”
Unable to help himself, Bobby laughed—an honest to goodness laugh—and it felt great.
“Yeah, well, if you’ve known Quinn for any amount of time, then you know this is his thing. All the time.”
“It’s pretty annoying.” She crossed her arms crossed over her middle, the action causing her breasts to lift just a bit.
He was going to need a cold shower in a minute.
Not only was this woman beautiful and pretty damn sassy, she had excellent judgment. Normally he was the only one who made comments about how annoying his brother-in-law was—it was nice to have someone on his side for once. It felt like he had a sexy partner in crime and they were sharing a private joke. It was pretty damn awesome.
Clearing his throat and forcing himself to look away, he said, “Believe me, I know. I’ve been trying to tell him to shut it for years, but he’s yet to listen.”
She shook her head. “His wife must have the patience of a saint.”
“She does.”
Then she smiled at him and he knew he needed to move away before he did something stupid like—
No sooner had the thought entered his mind than he began to lose his grip on his plate. It tilted and the food was going to fall, but he couldn’t do anything about it. His left hand wouldn’t cooperate, and between that and the sling, he was about to embarrass himself.
“Oh! Let me help you!” she said, instantly reaching out and saving his plate. Holding it for him, she said, “Where are you sitting? I can carry it over for you.” She smiled again, and this time he wasn’t happy about it at all.
With nothing more than a murmured “excuse me,” he turned and walked out of the yard. He knew people were watching, some even called after him, but he didn’t care. He cursed under his breath and called himself every kind of name in the book, but it didn’t do a thing to make him feel any better. He was so useless, so pathetic, that he couldn’t hold on to a paper plate on his own? This was what he’d been reduced to? And on top of that, he had to find that out in front of a beautiful woman? How unfair was that?
He was pulling open the front door of his parents’ house when his father caught up to him and held the door so he couldn’t move it. Jack Hannigan wasn’t a small man—Bobby took after him in height, but his father was built more like a linebacker. “Bobby? You okay?”
Suddenly it was all just too much. He turned and he snapped. “No! No, I’m not all right, Dad! As a matter of fact, I’m the opposite of all right! I’m tired of this!” He motioned to his arm, the sling, his shoulder. “I have hit my limit, okay? I’ve had enough of not being able to do things for myself!”
He assumed his father would try to calm him down.
He assumed wrong.
“Really? So what are you going to do about it?” his father asked. “All this time you’ve been recovering, I’ve been waiting for you to be a little proactive, but instead you’ve moped around and griped and complained. You’re making everyone crazy!”
“I’m making…?” he sputtered.
“Yes, you’re making,” his father threw his words back at him. “At first we were all sympathetic, but I have to tell you, Bobby, you’re exhausting us. You’re healing exactly as the doctors said you would. There haven’t been any surprises. Even Friday’s appointment shouldn’t have been news to you. You live with yourself every damn day—you can’t honestly stand here and say you were surprised when the doctor told you that you didn’t have great mobility!”
He had a point.
Bobby was about to argue, just on principle, but his father cut him off.
“I get that you’re frustrated, son. I do, and I’m sorry. This is an awful situation and I can’t even begin to imagine how disappointed you are—”
“No, you can’t.”
“But that doesn’t give you the right to be rude or disrespectful. You need to go and apologize to Teagan.”
For a minute, Bobby could only stare. “Who?”
“Teagan. She was the one you left holding your plate while you stomped off. Seems to me she was just trying to help you—after you made a glutton out of yourself with that mountain of food, I might add—and you rudely left her standing there with it.”
“First of all, I wasn’t being a glutton, and…wait, who the hell is Teagan?”
“I just told you.”
“No, no, I get that, but I mean, who is she? How does she know the Shaughnessys?”
“James and Catherine—Ian’s cousin and his wife who went on the cruise with us—she’s their daughter. They all just moved here.”
“Oh.”
“And Teagan’s renting Anna’s old place.”
His stomach sank. “Oh.” Not only had he made a complete fool of himself, but chances were that if he stayed here, he was going to see her again.
A lot.
Dammit.
Bobby’s head fell back as he let out an irritated breath. “I’m not going back there, Dad. As a matter of fact, I had planned on asking you to drive me home tomorrow so I can just…you know, finish this recovery back in Myrtle Beach.”
His father didn’t speak for a long moment. “So you’re going to run away?”
His eyes went wide. “Excuse me? I don’t think going home is running away. Gimme a break!”
“Unfortunately that’s what I’ve been doing and look where it’s gotten you!” Jack cried.
“Dad! What the hell?” How was this happening? Where was his mild-mannered father?
“I don’t think going back to Myrtle Beach is the answer, Bobby. I know right now you think it is, but you’re wrong. Now that we’re being honest with each other, I think we can finally move forward. We’re all here to help you, you know.”
Seriously? “There’s nothing you or anyone else can do, Dad. This is all on me and no one else. Believe me, I wish there was something you could do—wish there was some way someone else could take away the pain and disappointment, but there isn’t. And as long as I stay here, the longer I’m going to sit around and just…I don’t know, do nothing.”
“Why?” Jack challenged. “Why are you willing to sit here and do nothing, but you think you won’t do that back home?”
“Because here I have people around me willing to help. I don’t have to put in an effort. I tried it while you were away and lasted all of five days, and then I knew I could run to Anna. I’m getting soft sitting here, and that’s no way for me to be. It’s not going to get me back on the force!”
His father studied him for a long time.
Then he seemed to admit defeat. With a curt nod, he said, “Fine. If you want to go back to Myrtle Beach, I’ll take you. I won’t stop you.”
Bobby let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“But…”
Great, here it comes.
“You’ll have to tell your mother. I’m not doing it for you. And you’re going to go back over to the Shaughnessys and not only apologize to Teagan, but you’re going to apologize to everyone for making a scene.”
“I did not make a scene!”
“Take it or leave it, son. You want a ride back home, this is how you’ll get it.”
“Dad, come on. Be reasonable.”
“I am. Now it’s your turn to be an adult.” He started to walk away. “I’ll see you over at the Shaughnessys,” he called over his shoulder, but he kept walking.
For several minutes, Bobby stood on the front porch, still a little stunned by what had just gone down. His father was threatening not to drive him home if he didn’t fall in line and go apologize? Seriously? Part of him was incredibly pissed. “What am I, twelve?”
He’d find another way home.
Bobby was about to open the front door when he saw one of the kids sneaking out the Shaughnessys’ gate. He stood back and watched to see who was being bold enough to leave the yard. Peeking out, he was surprised that he didn’t recognize the kid. Was he a friend of one of the Shaughnessy kids? Moving to the steps, he quietly climbed down and watched as the boy—who couldn’t be more than five or six—went and sat under the massive oak tree in Ian’s front yard. He took a closer look and saw the kid looked like he was crying.
Well, damn.
Bobby waited for a minute or two to see if anyone would come looking for the little boy, but when no one did, he walked over. The kid looked up at him with the biggest eyes he’d ever seen on such a small face. They were dark brown and so sad he almost felt himself tearing up.
“Hey, bud,” he said casually. “Whatcha doing out here? The party’s in the yard.”
The kid shook his head. “I wanna go home.” He looked down at the grass.
Crouching in front of him, Bobby did his best to keep his voice calm and soothing. Part of his job meant talking to school kids, and he’d even helped his share of lost ones. Smiling, he said, “I know what you mean.”
Looking up, the dark eyes went wide. “You do?”
Nodding, Bobby said, “Uh-huh. I was trying to go home, too. But it turns out I need to stay for a little bit longer.”
“How come?”
Unable to help himself, he laughed softly. “Because my dad told me to.” He thought for sure the kid would be able to relate, only…
“I don’t have a dad,” he said sadly.
Without a thought, Bobby sat down on the grass beside him. “I’m sorry,” he said gently.
Shrugging, the kid stayed silent.
“So how come you’re out here when everyone’s back there?” he asked, hoping to change the subject a little.
“Pops is too busy to play with me.” Big tears rolled down his chubby cheeks. “I kept asking and he kept saying later, but then I asked again and he still said later! So I said if he wouldn’t play with me, I was going to go home.” He crossed his little arms defiantly over his chest. “And he didn’t even care!”
This was all more than a little confusing. So if the kid didn’t have a father, who was Pops? For that matter, Bobby should probably ask his name just so he could call him something other than “kid.”
“I’m Bobby, by the way,” he said, holding out his hand. “And you are…?”
“Lucas!” someone called out.
A female someone.
Bobby didn’t have to turn around to recognize the husky voice. He looked at the kid—Lucas—with more than a hint of shock. This was her kid? Quickly, he came to his feet and faced her.
Teagan.
Studying her approach, he realized the name kind of fit. She gave him only a cursory glance before she dropped to her knees in front of her son.
