“No,” the priest said flatly. “It’s a way of protecting yourself from being hurt again. You’re taking no chances that your brother—or the others when you find them—might not want to be a part of your life even now.”
Ryan felt the undeniable sting of truth in his words. “What if I am? Can you blame me?”
“Of course not, but life is about risks, about being open to possibilities. Have you not been happier these last weeks with Maggie than you ever have been before?”
There seemed to be little to gain by lying when the answer was obvious. “Yes. What’s your point?”
“If you’d continued to keep the door to your heart tightly shut, you’d have had none of that,” Father Francis reminded him. “Life would have gone along on its nice, even keel with no ups and downs. It would have been safe. But you’d have missed all the joy Maggie has brought into your life. Wasn’t that worth the risk of letting down your defenses?”
Much as Ryan wanted to protest that he’d been better off before, he knew it wasn’t true. Maggie had opened up his heart, and there was no turning back.
“And you think that seeing my brothers and even my parents again could turn out as well?” he asked skeptically. “Despite the fact that I’ve spent all these years with bitterness and resentment churning around inside me?”
“You’ll never know unless you try…and for the right reasons. And you’ll need to be willing to let go of the bitterness and resentment and be ready move on. Surely your brother’s not the one you’ve been angry with. Wouldn’t that be a good place to start? I’m sure he’s been grappling with many of the same resentments that you have.”
“Okay, you win. I’ll call Sean in the morning.”
“It’s not about what I want or about me winning. It’s about you. And is there any reason for not calling him right now?” Father Francis pushed.
Ryan frowned, but he reached for the phone.
With the priest’s steady gaze on him, he dialed his brother’s number. Unfortunately, it was an answering machine that picked up. Hearing his brother’s voice after all these years—his deep, grown-up voice—threw Ryan. Sean sounded so much like their dad, it was uncanny and disturbing. But before he could lose his nerve, he left a message.
“Sean, this is Ryan…um, your brother Ryan.” He considered hanging up then, but after a glance at Father Francis’s expectant, encouraging expression, he plunged on. “I’d like to see you. If it’s okay, I’ll stop by tomorrow around ten. I have the address. If I miss you then, I’ll come by another time.” He searched his brain for something more, but nothing came to him. “Um, I guess that’s it. Bye.”
To his shock, his hand was shaking as he replaced the receiver in its cradle. Father Francis covered his hand to steady it.
“You’ve taken a first step, lad, the first of many.”
Ryan swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I just wish to hell I knew where they were going to lead.”
Maggie had been for an hour-long walk, but it hadn’t done a thing to steady her nerves or calm her temper. Nor had any of the other walks she’d taken since she’d walked out of Ryan’s apartment and out of his life. She’d been expecting him to call, but the phone had remained stubbornly silent. It shouldn’t have surprised her. If he hadn’t reached out to his family in all these years, why was she expecting him to reach out to her? Back then he’d been too young to fight for what he needed. Now he was evidently too scared.
Back at the house, half-frozen, she poured herself a cup of tea, then sat at the kitchen table, brooding over the way things were turning out. She’d been so sure that Ryan was the one, that her love could give him the strength to face his past and move on. Maybe it was impossible after what he’d been through. Maybe she’d been expecting too much once again, just as she had when she’d wanted more passion from her last relationship. Maybe her expectations simply couldn’t be met, at least never all at once.
She was still thinking that over, debating whether there was more she could have done to get through to him, when her mother walked into the kitchen.
“I thought I heard you come in,” Nell O’Brien said, pouring herself a cup of tea, then putting a few freshly baked shortbread cookies onto a plate before sitting down opposite Maggie.
“Uh-oh, you’ve brought out the cookies,” Maggie teased. “You must be anticipating a serious talk.”
“I am, indeed. I’ve waited patiently for you to tell me what happened between you and Ryan, but you haven’t said a word. I’ve lost patience,” her mother said. “And since Father Francis called a while ago with a rather cryptic message, I’ve concluded that it’s time to get to the bottom of things.”
Maggie sat up a little straighter. “Father Francis called? What did he want?”
“He said Ryan was going to try to see his brother at ten this morning. He seemed to think you’d be interested in that, that you might want to be there.”
“No way,” Maggie said fiercely. “I am not going to help him do this, not when he’s doing it for all the wrong reasons.”
“What reasons are those?” her mother asked.
“The stupid idiot thinks I’m worried about his genes,” Maggie grumbled. “Can you imagine anything more ridiculous? I don’t give two figs about that.”
“Aren’t you assuming it’s all about you?” her mother asked mildly. “And isn’t that a bit presumptuous?”
“I’m not assuming anything. That’s what Ryan said. He said he needed to know if everyone was okay, if there were any medical skeletons in the closet, before he could contemplate a future with me.”
Her mother gave her a pitying look. “And you
