Willow Brook Road. Sherryl Woods

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СКАЧАТЬ It had the added advantage of giving her a solid stretch of time at home with Luke.

      When Grandma Megan spotted Carrie with the baby, she rushed over to hold open the door.

      “There’s my precious boy,” she cooed, leaning down to scoop Jackson out of the stroller.

      “I’m delighted to see you, too,” Carrie said, amused by her grandmother’s complete lack of interest in anything other than her first great-grandchild.

      Megan glanced up at her. “I fussed over you from the day you were born. It’s Jackson’s turn now.” She bounced the baby in her arms. “You’re almost too big for me to hold.”

      “I’d suggest you not bounce him quite so energetically,” Carrie cautioned. “He’s just finished his breakfast.”

      “It wouldn’t be the first time someone in this family spit up all over one of us,” Megan said dismissively.

      “Didn’t you buy that scarf in Paris when you and Grandpa Mick went there for your second honeymoon?” Carrie asked. “Isn’t it your favorite?”

      Her grandmother glanced down and shrugged. “I’ll just make your grandfather take me back to buy another one.”

      “And he’d do it without batting an eye, wouldn’t he?” Carrie said, envying them the devotion they’d found together the second time around.

      Apparently something in her voice alerted Megan that Carrie was in an odd mood. She returned Jackson to his stroller with a little pat, then turned to Carrie, giving her the full attention she’d apparently concluded was required. “Would you care for some tea? It’s Irish Breakfast tea, Nell’s favorite.”

      “We should be going. You’re probably busy.”

      “I’m never too busy for a visit with you. Sit. I’ll get the tea.”

      When she came back, Carrie was pushing the stroller back and forth and watching Jackson fight sleep.

      “Here’s your tea,” Megan said, handing her the delicate, old-fashioned chintz-patterned teacup. “Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

      “I’m at loose ends,” Carrie admitted.

      “No news there,” her grandmother agreed. “Any thoughts about what you intend to do about it?” She gave her a sly look. “Other than avoiding advice from your grandfather, that is?”

      Carrie grinned. “How’d you guess?”

      “The way you took off from the pub as if you didn’t hear him calling after you last night,” Megan said. “And the fact that you’re in here right now, rather than in your own house where you could put the baby down for his nap.”

      “You know how Grandpa Mick is,” Carrie said.

      “I most certainly do,” Megan replied. “That said, not all of his ideas should be dismissed so readily.”

      “But I need to find my own ideas,” Carrie argued. “Isn’t that the whole point of growing up, to figure out what we’re meant to do? You didn’t exactly have a handle on it, did you? You were how old and had five kids at home, when you decided it wasn’t enough, divorced Grandpa Mick, moved to New York and discovered how much you loved art and working in a gallery?”

      “Touché,” her grandmother said. “But there was a little more to the divorce than my running off to find myself.”

      “I know that. It was because Grandpa Mick was a workaholic and you felt like he’d abandoned you to be a single mom, stuck at home with five kids.”

      Megan smiled at what even Carrie knew to be a simplistic version of a very difficult time in her grandparents’ marriage.

      “That does sum it up,” Megan acknowledged. “Or at least the heart of what happened. Here’s the difference between you and me. I didn’t know just how unhappy I was for a very long time, and I hurt a lot of people when I took off, including your mother and your aunts and uncles. I’ve spent a lot of time making amends for that. You have the advantage of being on your own. Now’s the perfect time for you to get serious about finding your dream. To make your mistakes when the only person likely to be hurt is you.”

      Carrie met her sympathetic gaze. “You’re talking about Marc.”

      “Not exactly. I’m talking about what you did to yourself. You worked yourself into exhaustion to impress a man who didn’t appreciate it,” Megan corrected. “The good news is that you had sense enough to leave before you were trapped by a marriage that was doomed.”

      Carrie rolled her eyes. “Trust me, marriage was never on the table, except maybe in my fantasy. Marc had an entirely different agenda. He was a selfish, manipulative man who took advantage of the feelings he knew I had for him. I can see that now.”

      “Good for you! You won’t make a similar mistake again, will you?”

      “I sure hope not.”

      Her grandmother studied her worriedly. “You’re not going to let that one mistake keep you from taking risks or opening your heart again, are you? Because that would be a real tragedy. You have so much potential, Carrie, so much love to give.”

      “But I need a purpose,” Carrie told her. “Grandpa Mick has been harping on that ever since I left Europe.”

      “And he’s right. Everyone needs a purpose, a passion that makes them want to get up in the morning.”

      “So you think I’m wasting time, too?”

      “No, I think you’re taking your time trying to avoid another mistake. That’s not you. You’re my impulsive, embrace-everything granddaughter, but suddenly you’re scared. I think that’s what I hate most about Marc Reynolds. He robbed you of that wonderful, spontaneous spirit that made you special. If I may offer one piece of advice, it’s this. Start taking chances again, Carrie. If something feels right, try it. If someone feels right, open your heart.”

      “Maybe you’re right,” Carrie acknowledged. “Maybe I have been playing it safe.”

      She gave her grandmother a plaintive look. “Or maybe I simply have no idea where to go from here.”

      Her grandmother wrapped her in a tight embrace. “You’ll know it when it comes along. In the meantime, I’ll try to get your grandfather to give you some space.”

      Carrie laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but we both know that’s a losing fight. I’ll just tune him out.”

      She tried to imagine how well that would work and couldn’t. “I’d better get Jackson home. He’ll be awake again any minute and he tends to wake up cranky. We don’t want him scaring off your customers.”

      “Wednesdays are usually slow. I’m not worried. I’m glad you came by, sweetheart.”

      “Me, too. Love you.”

      Surprisingly, though there had been no sudden bursts of inspiration during their conversation, Carrie felt at peace when she left. That lasted two whole blocks until she spotted СКАЧАТЬ