She looked around the dining room and saw it as it would be when finished. As in the castle in Ireland, this dining hall would consist of long, banquet-style tables and benches, forcing guests to intermingle during meals. The gamers who came here would huddle together, talking scores and routes and walk-throughs of the game itself.
Guests who were unfamiliar with the game would soon be drawn into the fantasy world of Celtic Knot and the plush environment of the hotel. Once again, Jenny was impressed by the foresight of the Ryans and Brady Finn. By expanding their company into other realms, they were going to build the brand that was already becoming known around the world. To have a small part in this expansion was both exhilarating and sad. Because she knew without a doubt that this project would be one of her last for Celtic Knot.
In the quiet, her mind drifted to thoughts of Mike and she wondered what he was doing. If he even knew she was gone. And if he would care. If only he’d trusted her. Believed in her. Her heart ached when she remembered the expression on his face when he learned about the baby.
He’d come to her concerned that she wasn’t feeling well and then left her, convinced that she was trying to use him. How could it all turn so bad so quickly? Why couldn’t he see that she loved him? That if given the chance, the two of them and their child could have something wonderful? Was he so hard, so accustomed to shutting down his heart to keep possible pain at bay that he couldn’t risk it for a chance for happiness?
Her own pain blossomed in her chest until it squeezed her heart and she had to force herself to stop thinking of what-ifs and of Mike, because there was no help there. Nothing was going to change and it was best if she got used to that as soon as possible.
Patting her belly, Jenny whispered, “Don’t worry, baby. We’re going to be okay. You’ll see.” She got back to work, pushing thoughts of Mike and her up-in-the-air life to the back of her mind. Time enough to worry when she was lying awake all night.
Mike almost called Jenny. Twice. And each time, he hung up before the call could connect. He was still on edge after having Sean ream him, so it probably wasn’t the best time to talk to her anyway. But she was there. In his thoughts. In his soul.
She was off in the desert and hadn’t bothered to tell him. Because when she told him about the baby, he’d turned on her.
That shamed him, but now, with Sean’s temper still burning his ears, Mike admitted that it was past time to settle a few things that had been guiding him for years. He drove to his parents’ house, determined to finally talk to his mother about what had happened so long ago. To figure out if that one day, that one secret, was worth steering his entire life by.
The house looked the same as it always had. No matter how successful he and his brother had become, Jack and Peggy Ryan hadn’t allowed their sons to buy them a bigger place in a more upscale neighborhood. They preferred staying in the house where they’d raised their family, where they knew their neighbors and where every room held a memory. On this familiar street, houses were well cared for, yards were neat and nearly every driveway sported a basketball hoop.
Mike parked the car, then let himself in the front door, yelling to announce his presence. “Hey, Mom! It’s me!”
The house was quiet but for the low murmur of the television, set to a 1960s music channel. He walked through the living room, past the neat kitchen and into the den, and still didn’t find her. “Mom?”
“Mike, is that you?”
Relief shot through him as he turned to watch her approach. Her light brown hair was in a tangle and she was tugging at the hem of a pale pink shirt.
“You okay?” he asked, since she looked harried and a little nervous.
“Fine. You just caught me in the middle of something.” Then his mother blushed.
Mike suddenly had the feeling that he’d walked in on something he’d rather not think about. “Look, I’ll come back another time and—”
“Don’t be silly,” his mother said, already walking. “Come into the kitchen. There’s coffee and I made cookies this morning.”
If she was willing to pretend she hadn’t blushed, Mike could do it, too. “Sold.”
“Good, good,” she said, smiling now as she smoothed her hair. “Come and tell me why you stopped by. Is everything all right?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Sit down,” she ordered when they were in the bright, sunny yellow kitchen. She poured coffee, set it in front of him, then brought a plate of cookies to the table, as well. Holding a cup of coffee, she sat down opposite him and said simply, “Tell me.”