More Than a Memory. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ some kibble.”

      “Garret,” she called again, “it’s Mom. I’ve brought homemade breakfast rolls and black coffee.” Clare set the still-warm rolls and the thermos on the granite counter. She tsked over the lack of any sign that Garret had eaten the night before.

      Making her way to the living room, she wasn’t surprised to find her youngest son passed out on his leather couch, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. His left hand was wrapped limply around a half-empty bottle of Bushmills that rested on the floor. Grimacing, she took away the bottle, capped it and unceremoniously rolled Garret off the couch onto the hardwood floor.

      “Cripes,” he yelped, coming alive. “Can’t a man get peace and quiet in his own home?” He tried levering himself up on both elbows, but groaned and fell back flat. He flung an arm over his eyes to protect them from the bright morning sunlight as his mother threw open his drapes.

      “Dad and I heard from all three of your brothers last night. They said you tossed them out of here so you could wallow in self-pity. I was willing to let you mope for one night. Now it’s time to buck up and display a little Logan pride.”

      Clare stowed the whiskey bottle in an otherwise empty portable bar, spun back toward her son and settled her hands on her hips.

      “Go away,” he groaned. “Can’t you all see I just want to be left alone?”

      A petite woman whose head barely reached the shoulders of her husband, Donovan, or any of her four sons, Clare Logan was nevertheless no weakling. She proved it now by hooking Garret under his arms and muscling him to his feet. He swayed unsteadily, but with his mother’s assistance, managed to stumble toward the downstairs bathroom. “Time for a shower,” Clare announced. “You smell worse than the pub after a bachelor party. I’ll fetch you some clean clothes, then I’ll feed Domino. A chore you should have handled hours ago.”

      “Jeez, take it easy, okay? My head feels like I got kicked by a mule.” Garret leaned both palms on the sink and peered into the mirror before passing a shaky hand over his stubbled jaw. “I’m entitled to tie one on, Ma. Or didn’t Brian tell you who showed up at the pub yesterday afternoon?”

      Clare crossed her arms, but her expression became a shade more sympathetic. “Sean phoned first, then Brian. Honey, we’ve all watched you be depressed over that girl for too long. We grieved with you in the beginning. Back then we loved her, too. Now I’m mad as hell. She couldn’t have phoned or written to you once in all that time? You know she could have.”

      Garret’s jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth.

      “Oh, son, it’s been so good this past year to see you getting back to the Garret we all know and love. None of us are willing to stand idly by and let Colleen Drake send you into another black hole.”

      Garret winced as his mother rolled Colleen’s name bitterly off her tongue. “Men don’t get depressed,” he argued. “I missed her and floundered for a while is all.”

      “That’s the kind of stubborn thinking that kept you from enjoying life. You found out whiskey didn’t help before. It won’t do anything now.”

      Garret sagged and his chin hit his chest. “I did try drowning my sorrows in booze. Luckily I hate hangovers.” And after several stiff drinks last night, Garret convinced himself he’d been mistaken yesterday at the pub. Now he wasn’t sure. “So,” he said, heaving a sigh. “She’s really alive? I started to hope, as Brian suggested, that it was her double.”

      “Don’t we wish? No, she tried to book a room at the resort. Sean figured she’d stop there, and he called Trish to warn her. She made up a story about all the area hotels being full from now through the Mountain Music Festival. Sean and Brian hoped Colleen would leave and go on her merry way. Unfortunately, no one told the Californian couple who opened that new B and B in the south end. Galen was driving home from work and saw Colleen hauling her luggage into the old Rowan house.” Galen was the eldest of Clare’s four sons, and the only one not involved in Logan’s pub.

      “Why do you suppose she came back after all this time?” Garret muttered half to himself as he turned on the shower. “At first, I could have sworn she didn’t recognize me. Then she hiked herself onto a bar stool and ordered sarsaparilla like she always did. I, uh, yelled at her in front of customers—a couple of salesmen traveling through White Oak Valley who’d stopped in for a beer. I realized what I’d done, and told her to meet me outside. But I just couldn’t face her. Seeing her was like an electric shock, Ma.”

      “I’m disappointed in her. She doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by how she treated you, Garret. Brian said he told her she was wasting her time sticking around. This morning Jaclyn paid her a visit. She told Colleen that you and she are dating. I detoured past the B and B on my way here, thinking she’d have taken the hint to go. I assume it’s her car with Massachusetts license plates still parked in their lot.”

      “Jackie should’ve stayed out of this. If there’s fighting to be done, it’s between me and Colleen.”

      “Jaclyn’s seen you at your worst. She cares about you, Garret.You two have more in common than you’ll admit. She knows what it’s like to have your heart broken.”

      “Yeah, but even so…”

      “This room’s steaming up.” Clare reached inside the door and turned on the noisy exhaust fan.

      Grimacing at the stab of pain in his head, Garret quickly shut the fan off. “Ma, I’ve told you—told the whole family—I’m simply not in the market for a wife. I wish you’d all listen.”

      Clare held up a hand. “Take your shower, Garret. Domino’s been waiting long enough for his breakfast, so I’ll take care of that after I drop some clean jeans and a shirt outside your door. Once you feel yourself again, we can hash this out over coffee and rolls.”

      “No food, Ma. Coffee, black and plenty of it, will do me. Thanks for sobering me up, but there’s nothing to talk about.” He meant that, too, as he shut the bathroom door and stripped out of clothes that did smell like swill. Garret loved his family, but at times they could be too interfering.

      Stepping under the pelting spray, he tried to force his thoughts to focus. Not that he wanted to revisit the pain he’d suffered in the years after his return from Ireland. He’d brought home a wedding ring he’d intended to put on Colleen’s finger. So many times, he’d imagined how the stones would flash under the pub’s stage lighting whenever her talented fingers worked their magic on her fiddle strings. What would his family say if they knew how often, when he was alone, he took out the ring and the fiddle Colleen had played at the pub whenever he could talk her into it? She’d played there in spite of her mother’s vehement objection.

      There was one thing Garret knew to be true. Sharon Drake had never liked him. She’d chased him back through the hole in the hedge between the Drake and Logan houses too often to count.

      Over the years he and Colleen had gotten good at finding ways to steal time together. There’d never been anyone else for either of them. After they were old enough to realize they were in love, they swore they’d move heaven and earth to be together forever.

      Colleen had broken that promise in the worst possible way, and it had nearly killed him.

      Turning off the spray of water that had grown considerably cooler, Garret buried his face in a navy-blue towel. If only he could shut off the vivid memories as easily. He thought he’d succeeded СКАЧАТЬ