Chapter Eleven
Maureen
Declan O’Rourke.
He hadn’t been back to the clubhouse since Thanksgiving.
When he and King went into church, I decided to go to my room. I was curious how much Declan was going to tell him, but I wasn’t waiting to find out.
I had anticipated King questioning me, but instead it felt like he was avoiding me.
I had managed to avoid Declan for the past few days by hiding out in my new home.
That didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about him.
The truth was, Declan was all I had thought about.
I thought about the crush I had on him when we were kids.
About how he was Duane’s best friend, and then one day, he was just gone.
King must have been born not long after they moved.
I was only ten then, but believed with everything in me that we would marry one day. When I turned sixteen, I thought he would come back for me, despite us barely being friends.
He never did.
I knew it was the fanciful dream of a silly teenager, but I believed I loved him.
For two years, I held out hope that he would come home.
He never did.
Instead, my father had decided Duane and I would be a good match. Duane and I were friends, so it wasn’t the end of the world. I always wondered if he knew how I felt about Declan, though.
Don’t get me wrong, I grew to love my husband. But there was always a part of me that wondered, what if?
Now, here he was.
Living in the same town I was in.
Some might think this was our chance.
Some might think fate had finally brought us back together.
I thought fate was a cruel bitch.
Declan was a cop. Not just a cop but the sheriff. The head cop.
He didn’t answer to anyone.
That meant there was no one to hold him accountable.
Which meant he couldn’t be trusted.
With that final thought, I put him out of my mind. Well, I shoved him to the back at least. I had work to do.
I had gotten the floor in my bedroom refinished. The wood gleamed as I stood there, admiring my handiwork.
Today, I needed to put my bedroom furniture together, and then I could move out of the clubhouse and into my new home.
I looked around at the boxes, wondering where to start when my phone rang. Seeing my daughter’s name on the screen had me smiling.
“Hello, Daughter.”
“Hello, Mother.”
I laughed at our greeting. This had become standard when we talked on the phone now. Anyone listening might think we were estranged. The truth was, I loved her more than anything in this world. God, I missed my kid.
“How are things in Nebraska?” she asked.
I told her the day after Thanksgiving where I had settled. I figured she deserved to know her mother was safe, especially with winter setting in. She knew I wasn’t heading south, I hated the heat. I was a winter girl.
“Things are good. My bedroom is finished, and I’m ready to put my furniture together so I can start sleeping here tonight.”
“Send me pictures when you get it done. I can’t wait to see it. Think you will do it the same as your room here?” she asked.
My home in Boston had always been decorated in a simple, sedate way. Always showroom ready for a captain or captain’s wife to stop by. Or on the occasion Sal himself would stop by.
After Duane passed, I didn’t bother redecorating. I knew I wasn’t staying.
“Definitely not. I am so ready for all the pinks, purples, and country gingham I can find.” I laughed.
My new home would not be what she was picturing, but it would definitely be more feminine.
“Got yourself a little kitschy cottage, huh? Knick knacks on every surface? I think legally you have to wait until you’re a grandmother to live like that.”
It was so good to hear her laugh. I knew she was struggling with me moving away, but I hoped once she came to visit, she would want to stay. Hell, maybe I could set her up with a biker. Micah might be taken, but there were plenty of others to choose from.
“Probably. When are you gonna get that done?” I asked, knowing what her answer would be.
“Ugh, when I find someone worth raising a child with. Mom, seriously, my options out here are limited. My choices are bankers and mobsters. Where are the normal guys? The ones who just want to go to work, and come home and raise a family. The ones that aren’t out there trying to one up everyone else?”
“Nebraska.”
“Mom,” she groaned.
“I know, I know. But I am telling you, once you visit and see all the hot bikers, not to mention the cowboys. Colleen, you are never going to want to leave,” I assured her.
“I guess we’ll see. Any actual prospects?”
“Oh, there are prospects, but they haven’t earned their patch yet, so might want to stay away from them. Not much time to themselves, let alone time for a woman.”
“You know what I mean.” I could hear the eye roll.
“I do. I haven’t even been here a month yet, but I have gotten to know some of the bikers. You could do worse.”
“What about the guys in town?” she asked.
“Well...”
“Mom, tell me you have not hidden yourself away.”
“It’s not as easy as you think,” I told her. “It’s cold here. Much colder than Boston. And I have a lot of work to do.”
“How are you going to make a life there if you don’t make friends?”
I let out a heavy breath. I knew she was worried. After Duane died, I pulled myself back from the organization. I needed distance, so that when the time came to leave, I wouldn’t back out.
“I’m not sure I can stay here,” I whispered.
There. I said it. The thing I was dreading bringing up to her.
“What do you mean? Why aren’t you staying?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t staying. I said I wasn’t sure,” I repeated.
“Is everything ok?”
“I have to tell you something, Colleen, but you can’t tell anyone. I mean no one,” I insisted.
“Mom, you’re scaring me.”
“You don’t need to be scared. It’s just moving here didn’t get me as far away from the organization as I thought it would.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
I walked back into my bedroom and sat on my newly refinished floor. This might be a long conversation, and I didn’t want to stand for it.
“You remember my friend Kara, the one I told you about? And her son Justin?”
“Yea, Kara’s husband was the reason Pops went to jail.”
“Yea, well, it turns out the whole family wasn’t held responsible. Only Kara and Eduardo. Justin lives here.”
“Mom, does he know who he is? Does he know who you are? Does Sal know?”
“Yes, Yes, and no. Sal doesn’t know I’m here, but he does know Justin is here. That’s why I haven’t decided what to do. I will be here through the winter. I put Betty away. You know she can’t take the snow.”
I heard my daughter giggle on the other side of the phone. She always teased me about talking to and about my car as if she was a person.
“I bought a truck. And I have committed to remodeling the house. At least that way, if I don’t stay, then I can resell the house to a family that can enjoy it.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I know you were excited to find that little town.”
“I was, but I am not completely sold on leaving. We’ll see what happens when Sal finds out where I am.”
“Well, he won’t find out from me,” she said adamantly.
“Thanks, baby. It is always so nice to talk to you. Being apart is an adjustment for us both.”
“I know,” she sighed. “We’ll get through it though. Go put your room together, send me pictures, then go to town and start meeting some people. I want more options than just bikers when I come to visit.”
I smiled at her declaration to humor me.
“I will go to The Diner for lunch. I promise. That’s what it’s called by the way, The Diner .”
And I would. I had to venture out sometime. And The Diner would be somewhere I could sit alone and observe.
“Really? That’s so unoriginal.”
“No, it’s simple. And straightforward. Something I have been desperate for.”
I tried not to hide things from my daughter. I wanted us to always have an honest relationship.
“I love you, Mom. Don’t forget me.”
“You never forget the best day of your life. I love you too, Colleen. Talk to you soon.”
Colleen said goodbye, and the call disconnected. I sat in my room and cried. I missed my daughter. I wanted her with me. I missed my husband. He had been my sounding board. He would have helped me decide what to do. Although, if he were still alive, I wouldn’t even be here to begin with.
I allowed myself thirty minutes to cry it out. Then, I picked myself up and got to work. Once my bedroom was put together, I stood in the doorway and took a picture to send to Colleen.
*image sent*
Colleen: Looks great, Mom! Now, go get lunch!
Me: I’m going. I’ll let you know if I make a new friend.
Colleen: I bet you make three!
Me: You have more faith in me than I do. Lol
I put my phone away and grabbed my coat. It was time to venture out into the town of Diamond Creek.
No one knew me here. Despite knowing where I came from, not even the bikers knew who I was. I wasn’t sure I even knew. Here, I could be anyone.
I just needed to figure it out first.
As I drove down the main street, I marveled at the decorations. The people of Diamond Creek, Nebraska went all out for Christmas.
There were lights and garlands wrapped around every streetlamp. All the businesses had their windows decked out in holiday joy. There were banners for the toy drive and the Christmas parade. It reminded me of the Hallmark movies Duane loved to watch.
Who would have thought a man in the Irish Mob had a soft spot for romance? My Duane did. He surprised me often with all the little ways he showed me how much he loved me.
That was another thing I missed. Duane was my best friend. When he died, I didn’t just lose my husband, I lost my friend.
That hurt the most.
Pulling into the parking lot, I couldn’t help but notice the police car sitting on the street. The sheriff’s station was directly across the road from The Diner, and I let myself wonder for a moment if he was there.
Switching off the ignition, I sat in my truck for a few more moments, willing myself to gather the strength and courage to go in.
I couldn’t remember the last time I walked into a store or restaurant where people didn’t already know who I was. There was a sense of peace knowing that you were given respect, regardless of what someone thought of you.
Fear did that.
The Mob created that fear.
Reminding myself I no longer wanted to live that way, I got out of my truck and walked into The Diner with my head held high. I wanted to earn the respect of the people in this town on my own merit.
Not because of who my husband was, or who my father was. But because I was someone people genuinely wanted to have in their life.
Not because of the connections they could make through me, but because I was worth connecting with.
I believed it.
I reveled in it.
I would have it.
Then I saw him.
Sitting at a table.
With a woman.
A beautiful woman.
A woman who laughed with him. Who touched his arm with a familiarity of someone close. Maybe intimately close.
All at once, the confidence that had me wanting to make an imprint on this small town disappeared. Replaced with the desire to run.
Run back to Boston, to the things that were familiar, comforting. The things that were safe. For the last thirty years, I hadn’t had to deal with feelings of longing, or jealousy. I had Duane. He was faithful, always.
Many wives believe that about their husbands, until they are smacked in the face with their infidelity. But Duane and I were different. I was lucky, I had a unicorn.
Now though, seeing Declan O’Rourke, the subject of every teenage fantasy I had, sitting with a woman, destroyed me.
I knew I was being ridiculous. I hadn’t seen the man in nearly forty years. But I couldn’t deny the same connection I felt as a child.
I stood there frozen, just watching them. Their heads leaned together as they talked.
I needed to leave before they saw me, but my feet were firmly rooted in their place. Unmoving, I watched as my chest tightened. That foolish teenager who still thought herself in love with the boy from her childhood was devastated that he was with someone else.
“Sit anywhere you like, honey,” a waitress said, as she scooted by to drop off someone’s meal. Her voice carried enough that Declan looked up and our eyes caught.
I watched as a flicker of something I couldn’t name swiftly transformed to irritation in his eyes, before once again returning his attention to the beautiful woman he was with. Deciding a glance was all I was worth.
I had two choices. I could turn around and walk back out the door. Letting him see how much his disregard for my presence affected me. Or I could hold my head high and choose a place to sit and have lunch. Hopefully relaying to him that his brush-off meant nothing.
I chose the latter.
That was a mistake.