“No question about it,” Mick agreed. “Neither of your ex-wives had remarried last I heard. Give ’em a call.”
Thomas shook his head. “It’s a rare thing to be able to go back again. You and Megan have pulled it off, and believe me, I envy you for that, but it won’t work for me. Those ties are good and broken. My own fault, too.”
“Well, surely there are available women in Annapolis who’d jump at the chance to go out with you. You’ve a successful career. And you have those handsome O’Brien genes, so you’re not too hard on the eyes. If you need a little coaching when it comes to charm, I could give you a few tips.”
Thomas laughed. “Charm is not my problem. Neither is a lack of abundance of available women.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I just haven’t found the right one,” he told his brother. “And since she’s unlikely to be sitting at your dining room table, we should probably let this drop for now. Ma’s pot roast and your family’s company will be enough to console me for one more day. Thanks for not tossing me back out your door.”
Mick threw an arm around his shoulder as they left the den. “Ma wouldn’t allow it,” he said. “And if it comes down to it, I wouldn’t want to try.”
Thomas savored the rare moment of peace between them. Coming here today had been the best decision he’d made in a while, even if it meant going home knowing just how much his own life was lacking.
* * *
Somehow Heather had ended up at the dining room table sandwiched between Connor and Mick, who’d ceded his usual spot at the head of the table to his brother Thomas. She cast a desperate look across the table in Shanna’s direction, but Kevin’s wife only grinned. Next to her, Connor squirmed, which proved he was no more comfortable about the situation than she was.
Mick passed her a plate of home-baked yeast rolls, the kind few people bothered to make anymore.
“Have two,” he encouraged her. “You need to put on a couple of pounds. Chasing after that son of yours requires stamina.”
“Heather looks just fine, Dad,” Connor contradicted. “Leave her alone.”
“I’m just saying, she should keep up her strength, especially when she doesn’t have a man around to help her out,” Mick countered.
“Lots of single women manage careers and kids just fine,” Heather said, but neither man paid a bit of attention. They scowled at each other over her head.
“You making ends meet with your shop?” Mick asked.
Heather flushed. “It’s doing better each week.”
“You need to speak up if you need anything,” Mick said. “I’ll see that you have it. You’re part of this family now, even if your name’s not O’Brien. That boy of yours has O’Brien blood.”
Connor started to rise out of his chair, but a warning glance from his grandmother had him sitting back down. “Dad,” he said tightly, “if Heather and little Mick need anything, I’ll take care of it. They’re not your concern.”
Mick scowled at him. “Family’s family,” he responded flatly. “No matter how they came to be that way.”
Sensing that an explosion was just seconds away, Heather looked from one man to the other. “My son and I are just fine. If we need help from anyone, I know how to ask for it. Now, why don’t we enjoy this meal that Nell has made. The pot roast is delicious.”
“It is, indeed,” Thomas chimed in enthusiastically. “Ma, you still make the best pot roast I’ve ever tasted.”
“And I want you to teach me, Gram,” Bree said. “Jake says I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”
“You don’t have any patience,” Nell told her. “And it’ll only get worse once you have that baby you’re carrying. You won’t have two seconds to concentrate on the meal you’re preparing.”
“Now that’s discouraging,” Jake said with an exaggerated groan.
Nell gave him a chiding look. “Stop your complaining. That baby is yours, young man. And I’ll see to it the two of you don’t starve to death, the same way I did around here when Megan had her hands full with all of you.”
Bree grinned. “Thanks, Gram.”
Abby had listened to the exchange quietly, then turned to her grandmother. “You haven’t offered to set foot in my kitchen,” she said, feigning a pout. “I’m a working mother, too.”
“With a husband who works at home,” Gram said. “And a nanny.” She wagged a finger at the rest of them. “Don’t any of you be getting ideas about this. I’m not providing meals on wheels at this stage of my life. One of these days, I expect somebody to take over these Sunday dinners as well.”
Heather laughed at the audible groans from around the table.
“Please don’t let it be Mom,” Kevin pleaded.
Megan looked up at the comment, chuckling. “Little chance of that, I assure you. Like Bree, I can probably keep us from starving, and maybe not even poison anybody along the way, but it won’t be anything like Nell’s meals. I vote we nominate and train someone else.” She turned her gaze to Kevin. “Didn’t you have to prepare meals for a crowd when you were an EMT? There’s nothing that says a man can’t take over these family meals, right?”
Kevin looked a little pale. “Now, hold on here,” he began, but Shanna was already nodding. “He makes a terrific spaghetti and meatballs, and his lasagna’s not bad, either.”
Mick scowled at his older son. “Where’d you learn to cook, boy? At the Gianellis’? You didn’t learn Italian cooking from Ma, I guarantee that.”
“Hey, you put me in the kitchen, you eat what I know how to cook,” Kevin retorted.
Heather chuckled at the exchange. There was something about this family that never failed to enchant her. Growing up as an only child, she’d envisioned scenes just like this one. And
