Return (The O’Brians #6)

Chapter 1

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the overhead lights. The doctor’s words hung in the air like a death knell. The chill of the sterile office amplified the silence. Her fingers trembled in her lap, the wedding band on her hand feeling more like a shackle than a promise. He didn’t look at her, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on some point far beyond the frost-rimmed window. She had braced herself for this moment—for the unraveling of a life that had been fraying for years. He stood up abruptly, the screech of the chair legs against the tile slicing through the stillness. She didn’t need to look up to see his expression. She could feel it, sharp and cutting, the way she’d felt it for years. The diagnosis had only confirmed what he’d already decided—that she was a disappointment, a failure, an obstacle to his happiness.

“So, what do you think, Soph?”

“What a dump.”

“I know. She’s a real beauty, isn’t she?”

“No, I meant what a dump.”

Sophie O’Brian stood beside her twin brother in the middle of a pub dining room, covering her mouth and nose with a tissue. Dust inches thick blanketed the forgotten mantel and beams, spiderwebs hung in hazy clouds, and an aging roof loomed above them, and under her feet the wooden floor groaned.

Dump.

But Keefe, standing beside her with a twinkle in his eye, saw something else entirely. He saw a gleaming oak bar, a warm fire, the heartbeat of a place waiting to come alive. “Come on, Soph,” he said, nudging her. “Can’t you see it? The place has soul.”

Squinting past the grime and ruin, she began to see the place through Keefe’s eyes. Maybe if she looked hard enough, she’d find the magic he seemed to see so easily.

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” He waited a minute and watched his sister look around. “Sure, it needs some work and sprucing up, but nothing too major.” He waited a few beats before pressing a little harder. It had been more than a year since her divorce and she was in no better shape than she was the day the decree came through. Sophie needed this place as much as it needed her. “She’s great, right? I think she’s pretty great.”

Sophie continued looking around, scowling.

“I was thinking we could take out those booths over there on the far wall and make a little stage area. And the kitchen needs updating, of course, but it’s in good working order as it is, so if you thought we should wait to spend anything on that, I would understand.” Like hell he would. He had his eye on a French stove that was calling his name but he was willing to promise anything if it would get her to say yes. “And don’t you just love these hardwood floors, Soph? They will shine like new when refinished. And we could have a mural painted outside—you love places that do that. And then there are the rooms upstairs. We could have a B&B.”

Sophie looked at her brother and grinned and shook her head. He hadn’t been this excited about, well, anything really. Then she took another walk through the old Irish pub. It had good bones. Even covered in dust and cobwebs, its old world charm gleamed. He was right. A stage area would be nice and she could picture how nice the oak bar would look once they restored it. As for the kitchen, that was Keefe’s domain. She would rein him in when needed—and it would most definitely be needed. If she knew her brother at all, he would already have a stack of restaurant supply catalogues with pages of the most expensive equipment money could buy dogeared.

“You love it. I can see it in your face Soph, admit it! You love it.”

The place needed work, but that was okay. Sophie was never afraid of elbow grease.

Sophie nodded and softly, if not cautiously, smiled. “I do. But, are you sure this is what you want to do? You really want me involved in this?”

“We always talked about having our own pub. Well, why not do it? Really do it?”

“Keefe, it needs a new roof, and that’s only the beginning.”

“That’s not very constructive.”

“Constructive? Oh, you want constructive?” She flipped him off with a smirk. “All I’m saying is, it’s a lot of work.”

“Is there anything that isn’t?” She needed a fresh start and what better place than here? Their family was here, and it was a million miles away from Massachusetts, an ex-husband and terrible memories. “Just think, this time we won’t be leaving after a couple of months in the Summer or a few days over the holidays. Won’t it be nice to see Aunt Nan whenever you want? You two were always close. You’re always talking to her on the phone. Well now you can knock on her door. And Connor and Darcie are about to have twins. You will love being here for that.” He was wearing her down. He could feel it. “Come on. This is your favorite place in the world, Soph… And honestly, I can’t do this without my big sister.”

Keefe only mentioned that three minutes and eight seconds age difference when he wanted to twist her arm. It worked every time.

But he was right—Ireland was indeed her favorite place. If she was honest, the location had been the most appealing part of his entire scheme. Sure, she looked forward to being business partners with her brother—they had always worked well together—but the fact that he’d chosen a place in Ireland, taking her a million miles away from Massachusetts, was what she truly looked forward to.

As for Sophie, it had been so long since anyone asked her what she wanted that she’d long since forgotten any dreams she may have once had. Nothing in her life had worked out the way she thought it would, and she had nobody to blame but herself. Although it had taken years, she now understood that her only hope of recovery was accepting that she wouldn’t get a better past and learn to move on.

Now here she was, standing inside a one- hundred-and-fifty-year-old pub in County Kerry, Ireland only miles away from her aunts, uncles and cousins, and for the first time in a very long time she didn’t feel out of place.

“Be honest. Are you asking me to do this because you didn’t want to leave me alone?”

“I’m doing this because I didn’t want to leave you alone and because I don’t believe there’s a better person to restore and run this place than you. Between us and Simon and Connor’s crew we should be all set for repairs of pretty much everything, don’t you think? You know about renovations and have a great eye and they will take care of the rest and if they can’t, then they will know who we should call.”

“Jesus, Keefe, you make me sound like Bob Villa.” She had to admit that she felt lighter being back in Ireland. She’d even put on jeans for a change instead of sweatpants this morning. That was a step in the right direction. She ran her hand along the dusty bar. The smell of countless wood, and doubtless peat fires as well, was ingrained into the very essence of the place. She could picture a large warming fire burning bright inside the cobblestone fireplace that stood tall on the opposite wall. So, what the heck? “You really have this all worked out, don’t you?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Honestly, it would be simpler if you just agreed so we could get on with it. I’d like to be open by the Spring if we can swing it.”

“That’s less than six months. I don’t know how quickly things get done here.”

“Well, we can see how it goes and reevaluate later if needed. In the meantime, it doesn’t hurt to have a goal in mind. So, is that a yes?”

”I love it,” she said.

“So, I’ll call the agent and make the arrangements?”

“Yeah, call him.” It was time the old place had a second act–and possibly one for herself.

“You already have a menu in mind, don’t you?

“Of course.”

“You know what Uncle Henry will say, right?”

In unison, they mimicked their uncle: “You’d better serve proper chips!” Then they burst into laughter.

It would be good to be with family again. And Keefe was right—she needed a fresh start. Though, could you really call moving back to the place where she’d spent every summer of her childhood until twenty, a fresh start? A place filled with more memories and ghosts than a haunted house? Maybe the best way forward was through. Like Aunt Nan always said: When you walk through hell, stand up straight and walk like you own the place. Sophie had done just that. And somehow, it had led her right back here—home, where she belonged.

As they stepped outside into the drizzling rain to leave, Sophie reflected. “I always loved our summers here. I looked forward to it all year.” She unlocked the driver’s side car door then got inside while Keefe locked the front door of the pub then joined her inside the car.

He buckled his seatbelt and sighed. “Yeah, the day we boarded the plane. That was the best. We were coming home.”

Sure, they had never actually lived here, but it had always felt more like home here than it had back in Massachusetts. Sure, they lived in a picturesque suburban town that was pretty as a postcard with its neatly kept gingerbread houses and cutesy store fronts with colorful flowers spilling out from every window box and flower pot, but here… here one could actually hear the breath of the wind. Feel the magic in the air, and see a dramatic countryside like nowhere else.

As Sophie drove to their aunt’s house where they were currently living, Keefe gazed out the window at the land they both loved, thinking how their love for Ireland had never dimmed. Take today, for instance—most people wouldn’t see the charm in a gray, rainy afternoon, especially when they had to wait a full six minutes for a handful of sheep to shimmy their way across the road to another pasture.

Back in Massachusetts, people would be annoyed by such a holdup. They were important people with important places to be and couldn’t be delayed—unless, of course, it was a text or a phone call. They were more than happy to complicate their lives with that sort of distraction.

Keefe smirked as the last two fluffy sheep, marked with a bright pink stripe, leaped over the ditch with surprising grace. He had his doubts about the last one, but somehow, it made it.

Funny how some things never changed. The land, the sheep, the rain—it was all the same as it had been when they were kids. Yet, time had moved on, and so had they. Or at least, they were supposed to. People were supposed to grow out of childhood loves, weren’t they? There were many ghosts here, for sure.

“Soph, do you think love has a shelf life?”

Sophie considered her brother’s question, knowing that being back home was bound to stir up memories. As she made a left turn, she did what any local would—lifting a single finger off the wheel in a casual wave to the driver at the stop sign. She didn’t give a full-handed wave, though. That would be downright presumptuous.

Recognizing a fellow local, the driver gave her the finger back—so to speak.

“I do.”

“Really?”

After a colossally failed marriage, you bet really. “I didn’t before, but I do now.” Even as she said it, she, too, was admiring the familiar landscape. To her immediate left, a great mountain rose to the sky, its base so close she could almost reach from her car window and touch it. To her right, a small lake stretched out at its feet, as if offering itself to the mountains’ majestic beauty. Where else in the world would she see such a place? A place she had loved for as long as she could remember.

So, perhaps maybe not.

Sophie continued driving down the narrow road and “waved” to the driver who pulled to the side, giving her the right of way.

Keefe saw an opportunity to bring up something—or someone—he’d been meaning to mention. “So, have you seen Liam?” he asked casually.

“No.”

“Talked to him?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Only we saw him at the pub the night of Simon’s bachelor party. I thought he would call you.”

Sophie turned onto the narrow road leading to the house, where, despite it being January, bright wild fuchsia flowers dotted the hedges on either side, their dried petals still clinging to their vibrant color. “Well, he didn’t.”

Keefe knew when his sister was lying but wouldn’t call her out on it—yet. “And you really haven’t called him?”

“No, I haven’t,” Sophie said, acting bored. She figured it was the best way to get her brother to drop the subject.

“Why not?”

Well, fanning boredom didn’t work. Maybe irritation would do the trick. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Keefe said, looking out the window. Two could play Sophie’s boredom game. He knew his sister like a book. “I just thought it would be nice to get in touch, that’s all.”

“Is that all?”

“Liam was your?—”

“I know what he was.”

“All I’m saying is it would be nice to get in touch. You two were inseparable.”

“Yeah, we were. Until we weren’t.”

“I thought you broke up mutually.”

“We did. Why are you bringing all this up?”

“No reason.”

Sophie had had enough of whatever this back and forth was. “Keefe, if you have something to say, just say it.”

“Like I said, I just thought it might be nice to get in touch.”

Liam, her first love. Her first best friend. Her first everything. They had met as children here in Ireland.

A decade had passed since the last time she had seen Liam. In person anyway. She’d kept tabs on his career as a sculptor. He’d made a real name for himself.

She smiled. Good for Liam. He’d always wanted art to be his career, and he’d done just that.