Mick nodded enthusiastically. “Me a big boy, Aunt Jess.”
Jess watched as the two of them left. Something about the way Will had interacted with her nephew warmed her heart. Mick obviously adored Will, and she hadn’t sensed even a hint of judgment in Will’s tone when it came to the boy. It made her wonder what kind of father Will would be, a thought that gave her pause.
Because thinking of Will in that way was so disconcerting, she focused on the task at hand. She bought the funnel cake, still warm from the grease, and headed back to the booth. As she walked, she broke off a piece and munched it thoughtfully. It might not be healthy, but it sure did taste good. Took her right back to her childhood.
As she approached the booth, Connor caught sight of her and an expression of utter panic crossed his face. He left the booth and sprinted toward her.
“Mind telling me what the devil you’ve done with my son?” he asked, his voice obviously hushed so Heather wouldn’t overhear.
Stunned that her brother could think her so irresponsible that she’d lose track of his son, she scowled right back at him. “Do you honestly think I just walked off and forgot about him?”
“I don’t know what to think. He left with you. He’s nowhere in sight now. It would be just like you to get to talking to somebody or get distracted and lose track of him.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, barely containing her anger. The anger was welcome. Otherwise she might have burst into tears. “Mick is with Will. I assume you trust one of your best friends to look out for your son? Oh, look, here they come now, all safe and sound. Be sure Mick gets the funnel cake.” She tossed it at her brother, not caring if he instinctively grabbed it in midair or let it drop to the ground, then whirled around and walked off.
“Jess!”
She ignored Connor and kept walking, not sure where she was going until she found herself by the water, the sounds of the festival fading behind her. She walked along the water’s edge, trying to still the pounding of her heart, waiting for her tears to dry.
Over the years she’d grown used to the way people, including those in her own family, reacted to some of the decisions she made. If she made a mistake of any kind, it was all too easy to blame it on the ADD.
“Sometimes a screwup is just a screwup,” she muttered, swiping at her tears.
Not that letting Will take little Mick was a screwup. Her nephew was probably safer with him than he would be with her, especially in Connor’s view. Her older brother clearly wasn’t ready to give her any credit for common sense or being responsible, and, dammit, she didn’t deserve his lack of faith.
“You busy beating yourself up for letting me take little Mick?” Will inquired, falling into step beside her.
She frowned up at him. “No, actually I’m berating my brother for having so little confidence in me.”
Will seemed surprised by her response. “Good for you.” He slanted a sideways glance at her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know that.”
“And Connor feels awful for questioning you the way he did,” he added.
“I seriously doubt that. He’s always been very big on jumping to conclusions where I’m concerned. He doesn’t think I have the sense God gave a duck.”
Will chuckled. “But you’ve let him get away with that. You do the same with everyone in your family. You’ve gotten way too comfortable in the niche they’ve put you in, the O’Brien who can’t do anything right. You use the ADD as an excuse as much as they do.”
She whirled on him. “I most certainly do not.”
Will didn’t back down. “Sure you do. It’s easier to fall back on that than to really examine what went wrong in any given situation. I heard you just now, and you’re right. Sometimes a screwup is just that. We all make them, even those of us without attention deficit disorders. After all these years, with all you’ve accomplished, you know that you’ve been able to manage most of the symptoms. Yet you’re very quick to judge yourself when the slightest thing goes wrong.”
Jess sighed. “Okay, sometimes, yes. I guess when you grow up with people not expecting you to get anything right, you stop expecting much of yourself.”
Careful to avoid his intelligent gaze, she said, “But then I do something right, I turn the inn into a real success, and I forget for a while that I even have ADD. You’re right. I manage it. I think that’s why it hurts so much when Connor looks at me the way he did just now, as if I haven’t changed at all.”
Though Will’s expression was sympathetic, he tried to reason with her. “He was just scared, Jess. You can’t blame him for that.”
“He was scared that I’d lost his son,” she said. “Like little Mick was some loaf of bread I’d wander off and leave behind.”
“It was one second of panic,” Will said. “Give him a break. You know Connor loves you. Nobody is prouder of you and your accomplishments than he is.”
She closed her eyes. That’s what made it worse in some ways. She counted on Connor as more than a brother. He was, in many ways, her best friend. His doubts cut right through her.
“I know,” she said softly.
“You ready to go back now?”
“Sure.”
“Good, because we’re missing all the excitement.”
“What excitement?”
“Thomas and Connie dancing around each other like two shy teenagers with their first crushes.”
Jess laughed at the image. “They are a little bit like that, aren’t they?” Then worry kicked in. “You don’t think anyone in the family is going to give them grief over this, do you?”
Will regarded her incredulously. “Of course they will. It’s what O’Briens do. It’s like some rite of passage.”
Jess thought about that and knew it
