Chapter 28 – Christmas Day
CHAPTER 28
MAEVE
CHRISTMAS DAY
T he holidays, for me, had never been happy, at least not since my parents died. Orla always had a Christmas Eve party at their mansion and a big, ostentatious dinner the next day, but it always felt forced, like I had to smile, laugh, and play along with Orla and the girls just because it was Christmas.
Still, it wasn’t real, and I never fit. The holidays never made my adoptive mother or my stepsisters extend any kindness toward me. So, I’d grit my teeth and just endeavor to get through the day as best I could without strangling somebody.
This year was different. I was surrounded by family.
The second my eyes flew open, I pushed back the comforter, leaped out of Callum O’Shea’s childhood queen-sized bed in his mother’s house, and slipped my robe on over my warm Christmas jammies, which were covered in tiny little cute candy canes, no less.
After using the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I padded downstairs, following the light already shining from the kitchen.
It was just past six in the morning, and there was only one person who lived in Maureen’s house who’d be up so early—and that was Maureen herself.
Knowing my mother-in-law and going by the wonderful smells filling the house, she already had a huge Irish Christmas dinner prepared and breakfast ready to go.
We’d been fasting for a few days, as was tradition, plus it had suited me because I didn’t want to eat anyway. My appetite had taken a nosedive, along with my general ability to function like a normal human being.
Most of my time since I’d had the big argument with Callum had been spent working and getting more beer and cider ready for the Christmas rush at the bar. Keeping busy had been good for me, but working alone had given me a lot of time to retreat inside my own head, too.
Tristan, however, had been a sweetheart, along with all the girls and, of course, Maureen and Aislynn, and had stopped me from wallowing in a pool of tears and self-pity. However, at night, when I crawled into Callum’s big bed at the apartment and breathed him in, nobody could stop the emptiness in my chest from bursting free, and I always ended up crying myself to sleep.
I didn’t know who or what the future held, but leaving my family behind would be a wrench. All my life, I’d yearned to be surrounded by family and people who loved me, and losing it would destroy me. Except, staying in Hambleton and having to live a life alongside Callum would shatter me, too, especially when I had to watch him move on.
The thought of it sickened me to my stomach.
It wasn’t meant to be like this.
It wasn’t supposed to hurt so bad.
Maureen sat at the big kitchen table in her nightie and robe, drinking a big cup of tea. Her eyes lifted to meet mine as I walked into the kitchen, and she smiled and greeted, “Merry Christmas, love.”
“Merry Christmas, Ma,” I replied softly, leaning down and kissing her cheek before nodding toward her cup. “You need a refill?”
She shook her head. “I’m grand. The pot’s fresh, though.”
I went to the teapot and poured myself a cup, added a spoonful of sugar, and stirred it in while studying Maureen thoughtfully. She seemed melancholy and a little sad. It was the first Christmas without Lorcan here, and I knew how emotional she must’ve been feeling.
“You can ask him for dinner, Maureen. It’s fine with me. I saw him the other night, and it broke the ice a little, and it proved that we can be in the same room without me strangling him now.”
“That’s grand for you,” she cut out. “But I’m not sure I can be in the same room without giving the little eejit a clip around the earhole,” her eyes slid away from me, “again.”
I giggled. “I still can’t believe you did that.”
Maureen sniffed. “He was lucky it was all I did.”
With my tea stirred, I grabbed my cup and joined my ma at the table. “Have you heard anything from Patrick?”
“No,” she clipped out. “The deeds for the bar have been changed, though. Callum called a couple of days ago to tell me.”
“That’s good,” I whispered. “I can’t imagine the stress he’s been living with.”
She smiled, tight-lipped, and patted my hand. “I know. It makes my blood boil when I think about what my husband and Patrick got up to. Lorcan knew the bar meant the world to Callum because he drummed its importance into our boy from when he was a wee lad. Patrick can be mean as a snake, so I’d expect it from him, but Lorcan... I thought...” Her voice trailed off, and she pursed her lips.
“The last time I saw Lorcan was at Orla’s birthday,” I relayed, my eyes glazing over as I thought back. “I’d escaped outside and was hiding under the terrace with a book when he found me. He sat there for a good thirty minutes and told me the story about when my da met my mammy.”
Maureen’s eyes softened.
“Da didn’t like her at first, thought she was weird because she liked books and was quiet. Then, one day, she turned up at a party, and he saw her in a different light.” My eyes met hers. “Lorcan told me how that night she walked into the room, and every man in there couldn’t take their eyes off her. She’d gotten a makeover, right?”
Maureen’s eyes shone with tears, and she nodded.
“Her friend took her under her wing and helped her with her hair and clothes, the same way Tristan did me?”
Maureen smiled.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” I breathed. “You were the friend.”
Slowly, she dipped her chin.
“Then you did it for me, too. That conversation with Tristan the day I met him at the coffee shop. I remember it all.”
Her smile widened. “I never said Lorcan was wrong for what he did; I’m just pissed with the way he went about it. You’re perfect for my son, and he is for you. We talked about getting you two together for years, but neither of you seemed interested, so I backed off.” Her smile turned into a dazzling grin. “Seems Lorcan didn’t.”
I shook my head at my ma-in-law, but it was in a good-natured way. “You’re incorrigible.”
“My boys are eejits, but I want them to be happy. They’re good lads who do stupid things. Lorcan was hard on them growing up, especially Callum. My husband had a traumatic childhood, and he witnessed things no kid should see. He was a good father in a lot of ways but held a lot of anger and was taught young to use his fists to solve a problem.” Her gaze bored into mine. “You know, I caught Lorcan hitting Callum once?”
My chest tightened, and I blinked.
“I threw him out,” she continued. “I wasn’t sure our marriage would survive it. We told the boys he had a death in the family and went to Ireland to help out. But really, I made him leave, which at the time was a big thing.”
“Why did he do it?” I asked in a voice thick with emotion.
“It was all he knew. Lorcan’s da took a belt to him in his younger years, as did his da before. My husband grew up fighting for his survival. I was raised in a different area, and don’t get me wrong, even Roscommon experienced fallout from the troubles—all of Ireland did—but Lorcan was brought up in a tough place at a tough time. It’s no wonder it affected him. I know I clip Callum around the earhole—I do all my boys—but I’m a woman with a fraction of their strength, and it doesn’t hurt them. What my Callum’s da did left marks inside and out.”
My hand reached for hers on the table, and I squeezed. “I’m sorry.”
“Lorcan got the help he needed, so there’s that, but I hated him for a long time for hurting my son. It’s my biggest regret as a mother and a woman. I should’ve seen the signs. Callum worshipped his da, so getting punished in that way made him withdraw. Since then, he’s always been the type of boy to deal with his own troubles and problems, like with you. I think it stems from the fear of coming clean for his wrongdoings and his da giving him a good hiding for it.”
“Poor Callum,” I whispered, feeling my heart give a tug.
She patted my hand. “I’m not making excuses for my son, Maeve—he knows right from wrong—but it just goes to show how we’re all products of our environments in some ways.”
Holding my cup to my mouth, I took a sip of tea, peering at Ma over the rim. “You’re right, Maureen. It doesn’t excuse Callum keeping important stuff from me, but it does explain a few things. I thought he lied because he didn’t trust me or did it as a way to undermine me. At least I know now that’s not the case.”
“He hurt you,” she bit out. “Don’t make light of how that made you feel.”
“I know.” I smiled flatly. “But he didn’t set out to hurt me or do it with bad intentions. Something in him made him lie, not something in me . That’s the difference.”
She nodded understandingly.
Placing my cup gently on the table, I wondered how I’d broach the next subject.
When I threw Callum out, I didn’t think of how it would involve everybody around us. I was so glad and grateful for the support of my friends and his family, but I never wanted him to be ostracized by them. It was Christmas, he’d be alone, and it didn’t sit right with me.
“Ask Callum to dinner,” I urged softly.
She cocked a determined eyebrow. “No.”
“Mam,” I murmured. “It’s Christmas. Ask him to dinner.”
Her lips pursed, and she stuck her nose in the air. “I’ll think about it.”
Biting back my smile, I quietly sipped my tea, allowing Maureen time to let the idea sink in.
There was no denying Callum had pissed me off, but I didn’t want anybody suffering for it, even him. I adored Callum and always would, and we would always be family, even if we weren’t together.
As much as I still had to work through what happened between us and needed time, it was Christmas Day, and if losing my parents had taught me one thing in life, it was that holding onto family was important.
Maureen called Callum and asked him to dinner, but he had to decline. He explained how he’d already made arrangements to open the Shamrock for a few hours and wouldn’t have time to come here, eat, and get back to the bar.
I didn’t know why a wave of disappointment washed over me. Callum not coming was probably for the best. But still, being there with his family without him didn’t feel right.
I was desperate to see him, but apart from the night my friends made me go to the bar, I’d resisted his pull. It terrified me that all it would take was one cocky grin, and I wouldn’t be able to leave. But this was different. I wasn’t a bitch, and Callum needed somebody, too.
So, I made a decision.
“You sure you wanna do this?” Tadhg asked.
I stared out the windshield at the bar and inclined my head. “Yeah.”
Tadhg opened the car door and went to the trunk while I got out of his car and reached into the back seat for the bag loaded with containers full of steaming hot food. Then, we picked our way over the icy ground toward the bar, where T opened the door and ushered me inside into the warm.
The lights were low, and Christmas music played softly through the stereo system. Two men sat on stools at the bar, talking to Callum, while two others lounged at one of the tables off to the side.
Callum’s eyes passed over me, and he did a quick double-take. A bright grin split his face, and he leaned forward, elbows to the bar, calling out, “This is a nice surprise.”
My stare swept over him, and my heart dipped.
He looked good but seemed tired. The slight thinness in his face indicated he’d lost a little weight.
I held the bags up. “We were worried you’d starve to death. I know what a terrible cook you are.”
He chuckled. “Come show me what you’ve got.”
“I think there’s enough for everyone if we’re careful,” I announced. “Your ma packed enough food to feed us for a week. The turkey was humungous, and she baked a massive honey roast ham, too.” I dumped the bags on the bar and sat on a stool. “There’s roast potatoes and mash, brussels sprouts, parsnips, carrots, and peas. She also did some homemade sausage stuffing and thick turkey gravy.”
A squeak left the throat of an elderly gentleman who sat at the bar, and I smiled, thrusting my hand toward him. “Hi! I’m Maeve. Would you like to join us for Christmas dinner?” I glanced around the room and raised my voice to include everybody. “We can make it stretch.”
He took my hand and shook it eagerly, replying in a thick Southern drawl, “Well, there’s an offer I can’t refuse. It’s not every day a pretty redhead asks me to join her to eat.” He took his cap off, revealing a head full of tightly curled grey hair, and bent forward in a theatrical low bow. “Ezra Jones. At your service.”
I opened my mouth to ask the others if they were hungry when a commotion sounded from the door.
Glancing over, my eyes widened when I watched Maureen and Aislynn heaving armfuls of bags through the door. “Jesus, Ma,” I heard Donovan complain from the street. “Get a move on. These gifts are heavy.”
“Stop your whining,” Maureen clapped back. “You’re supposed to be a big, strong man. Get a move on with those, will ya?”
My heart soared, and I clapped my hands together gleefully, crying out, “Oh my God. How lovely!”
“Don’t just stand there, Callum,” Maureen snapped, walking inside and nodding toward the long table situated under the window. “Pull that out for me, will ya. We need to set up for dinner. Ezra, come and help. You know what an eejit he is. He’ll probably break something, the clumsy little shit.”
Donovan appeared in the doorway, juggling bags and boxes full of brightly wrapped presents. “Someone give us a hand.” He grinned at Tadhg, who hurried over to grab a box, which was about to topple from under Donny’s arm.
Within fifteen minutes, we’d unpacked all the bags and boxes and set the table. Callum even dragged the old microwave in from the shed so we could make sure the food was served piping hot. Donovan went behind the bar to fetch everybody’s drinks while I began to heat up all the plastic containers we’d transported the food in.
I’d discovered that the two men, Kev and Brains, who were sitting at the table when I came in, were military Veterans who’d recently come to town to work for the Speed Demons after receiving treatment at a Veteran hospital in Northern Colorado. They had no family in the area, and although they’d been invited to the clubhouse, they preferred something more low-key. Ezra was a widower who’d lost his wife eighteen months before, and the gentleman with him was his brother, Arthur.
Finally, we were all seated, our plates laden with delicious-smelling hot food, and Aislynn flashed her megawatt smile around the table. “Who wants to say grace?”
Silence fell over the table.
“Da always did it,” Tadhg murmured sadly.
My heart panged.
This was the first O’Shea family Christmas without Lorcan, and in spite of everything Maureen had told me that morning, I knew they were feeling his absence. Their relationships with their patriarch may have been difficult, but I knew from experience how much they’d be missing him that day in particular.
Maureen cleared her throat, her eyes bright with moisture. “It’s time to start new traditions. Callum, you’re the eldest. Would you do the honors?”
Automatically, my hand reached for his, and I squeezed his fingers, trying in my own way to offer strength and comfort. My heart tugged softly as he squeezed them back and raised his glass.
“I’m not gonna say grace,” Callum announced. “On this occasion, I wanna toast my aul fella.”
My eyes lowered, and I blinked away the threat of tears.
“Da,” he began. “May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face. And rains fall soft upon your fields.” Callum’s voice lowered, his tone turning husky. “And until we meet again. May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.”
Maureen smiled and raised her glass along with her son. “To Lorcan, Merry Christmas, love.”
We all held our drinks high and repeated as one,
“Merry Christmas.”
—————
I watched Callum lock the door behind his mam and slump back on the couch.
This was the first time we’d been alone together since I threw him out, hence why my palms were clammy and my throat felt dry. Maybe I should’ve left with the others, but I wanted to ensure he was okay because something seemed really off with him.
My hand unconsciously went to the locket fastened around my neck.
After Ezra, his brother, and the other two men left, the family exchanged gifts. I’d gotten some lovely—and very expensive—perfume from Maureen, along with clothes from Aislynn and luxury cosmetics and toiletries from the boys that I reckon their ma shopped for.
My favorite gift, though, was my locket.
On one side, it held a picture of Callum and me on our wedding day. I’d almost cringed when I saw it. I looked so terrified, and my face was red where I’d been crying. Of course, Callum looked gorgeous, but then he always did. The other side of the locket held another picture, one of my parents on their wedding day.
Maureen had a couple of old photographs, and Callum had chosen one of them and had it digitally resized to make the picture fit.
It was the most beautiful, thoughtful gift anybody had ever given me.
Callum sat on the couch next to me, smiling when he saw me touch my amazing gift. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
My eyes prickled. “I didn’t expect anything, especially after...” I cleared my burning throat, trying to pull myself together. After a long pause, I asked, “Are you okay? You seem really subdued.”
“Nothing feels right without you,” he admitted softly. “I’m not saying that to try to make you feel bad for me, but you’re right, I am subdued, and that’s why.”
“I feel the same way,” I told him gently. “But I need more time.”
He sighed and nodded. “I know.”
“Whatever happens, we’ll always be friends,” I assured him.
He reached out with his arm that was stretched across the back of the couch and gently twisted a lock of my hair around his finger. “Miss waking up to this,” his fingers swept down to my lips, and he tapped the bottom one, “and these.” His hand dropped, and he laced his fingers with mine. “Telling a lie is easy. It’s living with it that rips you apart. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
I smiled softly because, for the first time, I believed his apology.
“Let me stay with you tonight,” Callum suggested softly. “I don’t mean for sex. I just wanna hold my wife. I wanna feel close to you again.”
I gave him a tight-lipped smile. It was tempting, but it felt wrong. “Well, that kind of defeats the purpose of breaking up, doesn’t it, you eejit?”
He let out a snort. “Guess so. Okay, let me take you on a date.”
“A date?” I inquired. “We’ve never been on one of those.”
“Exactly.”
I got to my feet and began to gather my belongings. “I’m not ready. Just give me some time.”
“Throw me a bone here, Maeve,” he pleaded. “Come and spend New Year’s Eve down here. I’ve asked the DJ to play again, and the Speed Demons are coming.”
I slipped my coat over my shoulders and turned to face him. “I’m not really into the whole New Year thing, but I’ll come down for a drink, okay?”
“Right.” He stood from the couch and followed me toward the rear door. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
Chewing on my lip, I walked through the back hallway with him close at my heels, pausing as I put one foot on the stairs. “Well,” I murmured awkwardly. “Goodnight then.”
Callum chuckled and stepped up next to me before gently turning me toward him. “Goodnight, wife,” he said huskily, leaning down and leaving a lingering kiss on my forehead.
My heart fluttered as he stepped back down.
He watched me walk up with a soft look on his face that made my belly turn to mush, and I fought the urge to ask him upstairs for a drink.
It would’ve been easy to fall back into old patterns, but I knew I would’ve resented myself for giving in. Callum was behaving exactly the way I needed him to, but I also needed to see an effort to want to be with me, and I needed to see change.
Something he’d murmured earlier resonated deeply with me because it rang so true on every level.
‘ Telling a lie is easy. It’s living with it that rips you apart.’
I never doubted Callum O’Shea loved me, but sometimes, love wasn’t enough.
My husband needed to prove I could trust him, too.