“Don’t forget Gram,” Bree said, her expression turning thoughtful. “Nell is the one who made them into the men they became, and she still has a firm grip on the rest of us. I’m so glad she’s still around to impart those values to the next generation.”
“Amen to that,” Megan said, her own expression turning serious.
Bree frowned. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is Gram not well?”
“As far as I know, she’s fine,” Megan insisted, though her smile was clearly forced. “I just worry about how much things might change when she’s gone. After that scare she gave us a few years ago, losing her is never far from my mind.”
“I think we all worry about that,” Heather said. “Which is why we need to treasure every minute.”
Liz thought of the O’Brien matriarch and her role in this amazing family. She was so glad that she’d arrived in town in time to get to know her just a little. She lifted her cup of coffee.
“To Nell,” she said quietly.
“To Nell,” the others echoed.
“She would hate it if she could hear us,” Megan said. “She’d say it sounds as if we’re already mourning her, when she has a lot left to give and a lot left to live for, especially since she and Dillon found each other again in Ireland. I think that romance and their marriage revitalized her.”
“You’re right,” Shanna said. “Let’s toast that.”
This time the toast was far more upbeat and followed by a good bit of laughter.
“There now!” Megan said, setting down her cup. “She’d approve of that. What she’s not going to be happy about is how many of us are missing from the table for Sunday dinner today.”
“It’s the one weekend all summer that she tolerates us playing hooky, though,” Bree explained to Liz. “We just won’t hear the end of it till the Fourth of July!”
“Maybe not till Labor Day,” Megan amended. She glanced outside. “Looks as if the rain’s stopped temporarily. I’d better seize the opportunity to get to the shop without getting drenched.”
The gathering broke up, though Shanna and Bree walked with Liz to her shop as Megan and Heather hurried off to their businesses around the corner on Shore Road.
“You did okay yesterday?” Shanna asked.
“Better than I could possibly have imagined,” Liz said, thinking of the hefty amount she already had totaled for Tuesday’s deposit.
“I don’t suppose Aidan had anything to do with that sparkle I see in your eyes,” Shanna teased.
“Absolutely not,” Liz claimed. “I’m all about the cash.”
Bree laughed. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Liz intended to. This was no time to lose focus on her goal of making Pet Style a success.
* * *
Aidan spotted Liz on the sidewalk downstairs, chatting with Shanna and Bree before they left for their own shops. He’d made her agree the night before to call him if she needed help today, but his gut told him she wouldn’t do it even if there were customers hanging from the rafters. He made her nervous and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was because she wanted so badly to ignore those sparks that kept sizzling between them.
To keep himself from stopping in just to say hi, he deliberately forced himself to grab the Sunday New York Times and head for Panini Bistro, where he could read the paper and linger over a cappuccino.
Despite the rain, Shore Road was already hopping just like Main Street. Panini Bistro was crowded with tourists who’d had the same idea he’d had. He was about to turn around and leave when he heard his name being called out from a table in the back. He spotted Connor and Kevin O’Brien waving in his direction. Kevin was already dragging an empty chair over from a neighboring table. Aidan stopped at the counter to order his drink, then joined them.
“If you were hoping for peace and quiet, you’ve come to the wrong place,” Kevin said, glancing around at the crowd. “It’s not even Memorial Day and I’m already eager for the tourist season to be over.”
Connor laughed. “My brother doesn’t really hate tourists, because he knows they’re very good for the businesses our wives run,” he said. “He just sees every one of them as a potential threat to the bay.”
Kevin scowled at him. “You would, too, if you saw the amount of trash they leave behind.”
“It sounds as if you’re as dedicated to preserving the Chesapeake as your uncle is,” Aidan said, concluding this was the perfect opening to pick up a few more tidbits about his father.
“I think he’s even more of a fanatic,” Connor said, nudging his brother. “You know how it is with the recently converted.”
Kevin’s scowl deepened. “Bite me.”
“Seriously,” Aidan persisted, “were you drawn into your work by Thomas?”
“Of course,” Kevin said. “Much to my father’s dismay. He and Thomas hadn’t gotten along all that well for years, so Dad viewed it as a betrayal when I decided to go to work with him.”
“Dad actually pouted,” Connor said, then grinned. “I believe Mom finally got tired of it and told him to stop being a baby, that we all had the right to pursue our own dreams.”
“Yeah, Connor’s dream back then was to save the world’s men from the evil women divorcing them. He handled some pretty messy divorces. It left him jaded. He wasn’t a big proponent of marriage back then.”
Aidan studied him curiously. “What changed? Meeting Heather?”
“Oh, no,” Kevin said before Connor could reply. “He already knew her. They already had Little Mick. He thought love was enough, that marriage was the problem.”
“Well, you have to admit that Mom and Dad didn’t set the greatest example,” Connor said. “And Uncle Thomas was no better. Connie’s his third wife.”
It was all Aidan could do not to let his jaw drop. Maybe his mom had been a whole lot smarter than he’d realized, if the man was that fickle.
“They both seem happily married now,” he ventured cautiously.
“Mom and Dad are great,” Kevin confirmed. “And Connie
