Page 67 of Ordered Home for the Holidays
She whirled around. “I don’t need or want your forgiveness, Cass. I did what I had to do because you left me with no choices.”
“Well, from where I’m standing it looks like you had someone waitin’ for you the whole time we were together.”
“That’s another thing you’re not allowed to do. Get jealous. We’re done here.”
Deirdre fought back the tears as she ran to her room. She didn’t care if her flight was undignified, or if there were other things she needed to do before she found her rest. All she cared about was getting away from him. So she could no longer see the way his features were twisted with pain and disbelief. So she could forget about the fissure of longing that had nearly carved her in two when he’d finally told her the reason he’d left. So she wouldn’t let the temptation and promise of everything they’d once shared give her false hope that they could ever have built anything but unfulfilled dreams between them.
***
It was just past dawn when she woke. The house was quiet. And cold. She braced herself for the icy floorboards and swept from the bed. She grabbed the top quilt and wrapped it around her body as she crept toward the window.
When she pulled aside the heavy drapes, all she saw was white. Everywhere. And the snow was still falling. There was a knot of dread in her stomach, and her throat was dry and swollen from all the tears she’d shed the night before.
She hadn’t lied to Cass. Patrick O’Shaughnessy had been Jamie’s father in all the ways that mattered. The only father he’d ever known. He’d loved her son as his own - had always been patient and kind. Cass left - and he’d had no right to know what he’d left behind.
She wondered if he’d left. Or if he’d be sitting at the table waiting for his breakfast when she made her way downstairs.
She wondered if he’d cried himself to sleep like her. If he’d taken it upon himself to tell Jamie the truth.
It would do her no good to dwell on it. It was best to face him. But she would be dressed when she did it.
Her dark blue blouse and gray skirt were somber enough to fit her mood.
***
He wasn’t in the kitchen. He was in the parlor. He’d stoked the hearth and he held a bottle in his hand that was three quarters empty. From her vantage point in the doorway she could make out the stamp of one of the local distilleries.
“You’re not allowed to drown whatever you’re feeling in a bottle of whiskey. You can eat breakfast, but after that, you can pack your bags. I don’t want you anywhere near my son.”
He turned bloodshot eyes in her direction. “He’s my son too.”
She glared over at him. “No he’s not. Patrick O’Shaugnessy was the only father he’s ever known, and he was there for everything. From the time he was born until the day he learned to fish. Patrick’s the one who taught him to stand in the middle of the stream and cast his line and be patient. Patrick was the one who taught him to tie his shoes - with the same patience. He would have been the one to teach him to shave, and how to properly court the girl he loved. If he hadn’t died, you never would have known Jamie carried your blood. You have no right to tarnish any of those memories.”
He faced the fire again and tipped the bottle up to drain it. “After breakfast, I’ll be gone for good. There’s nothing for me in Willow Creek and I never should have returned. I have one final meeting to attend in my father’s stead and then I’m leaving this town and all its broken promises in the dust.”
“Yes. Do what you do best. Run away from everything and pretend like all the hard parts of your life don’t exist. You haven’t grown up at all.”
She turned on her heel and furiously brushed away the tears.
Chapter Eleven
Cass
“I’m meeting with the board in less than an hour - and I need your advice.” Cass slouched down in the chair in front of Dio’s desk.
“You’re lucky I just wrapped up the brief I was working on. How can I help you?”
“Do you know anything about converting a corporation into a cooperative organization?”
Dio leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him. “You agree with the sentiments of your former sweetheart.” His gaze sharpened on Cass.
Cass shrugged. “It only seems fair that we share the wealth of the holding company with the men and women who toil for its successes.”
“Most of your compatriots would consider that heresy.”
“I’ve always rebelled against the pre-ordained path my father laid out for me. When I went out west, I never expected to find the freedom I’d always wanted. Because it’s every man and woman for themselves, there’s a sense of earnest competition. There’s still racism and discrimination, but it’s easier for a man who comes from nothing to become something out there - because the playing field is more level.”
“I can get the paperwork started, but it’ll take me a while. Your father still owns sixty percent of the shares - and although they’ll pass to you when he dies, he’s not dead yet.”
