The Devaney Brothers: Michael and Patrick: Michael's Discovery

6

Kelly deliberately chose the most wheelchair accessible restaurant she knew for their lunch. Though she wasn’t absolutely certain, she was fairly sure that this was the first time Michael had ventured out to eat anyplace other than his brother’s pub. She didn’t want the experience to be so stressful that he refused to try it again. He was a proud man and he was already chafing enough at letting her assist him with getting in and out of her car.

“Is this okay?” she asked as she walked along beside him as he rolled himself toward the street-level entrance.

“Looks fine,” he said, his expression grim as he contemplated the door. When Kelly started toward it, he grabbed her wrist. “I’ll get the damn door.”

Arguing seemed pointless. She waited until he’d maneuvered himself around and could hold it while she stepped inside. Then he faced the dilemma of how to get in himself without having the door crash into him. His face was a study in concentration as he shouldered the door open, then eased his chair through the entry. She didn’t release her pent-up breath until he was safely inside the restaurant.

There were more obstacles to come. The only vacant table in the busy restaurant was all the way across the room. When the room was empty, Kelly imagined the aisles were wide enough, but now with chairs jutting erratically out, they were all but impassable. Michael’s expression was filled with tension as he tried to make his way between tables without knocking into the backs of other customers, most of whom were completely oblivious to his difficulties. The hostess had long since placed their menus on the table and gone back to her post by the time Michael finally crossed the room.

“You did great,” Kelly said, taking her seat.

“I don’t need a pat on the head for getting across a damned restaurant,” he snapped.

She bit back a sharp retort of her own and turned her attention to the menu. She was still fighting the sting of tears when she felt his hand cover hers.

“Kelly?”

“What?” she responded, still holding her menu up to mask the fact that she was about to cry over something so ridiculous, especially when she could totally understand his level of exasperation. For a man whose work had required a peak level of physical fitness and agility, to adjust to being anything less had to be difficult.

“I seem to spend my life apologizing to you, but I am sorry. It’s just so damned frustrating to be tied to this chair,” Michael said, his tone full of contrition.

She lifted her gaze then and met his. “It won’t be forever. And even if it were, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“It’s already the end of my world,” he said quietly. “No matter what, I won’t be going back to work as a SEAL. For months, in the back of my mind, I was convinced I could if I just worked hard enough.” He sighed. “But for weeks now I’ve been struggling to face the fact that that’s not going to happen.”

“I know I can’t begin to understand what it’s like to lose something that’s been so important to you, but you will find something else just as challenging,” she told him earnestly. “There are plenty of things a man with your intelligence can do. And a career’s not everything. You can marry, have a family. Your life isn’t over.”

“The only one I ever wanted is over,” he said flatly.

“If that’s going to be your attitude, then I feel sorry for you,” she told him, refusing to back down when a dull, red flush climbed into his cheeks. “There are plenty of people who will never walk again. You will get out of that wheelchair. So it’s taking a little longer than you’d like. And you won’t be able to do some of the rigorous things you once did, so what? You’re alive, dammit! Stop feeling so sorry for yourself and concentrate on what you still have, instead of what you’ve lost.”

For what seemed like an eternity she wasn’t sure if he was going to explode with anger or simply turn around and wheel himself right back out of the restaurant. She was still wondering when their waiter appeared and, completely oblivious to the tension, announced that he was Henry and he’d be taking care of them today.

“Just what I need,” Michael muttered. “Somebody else who thinks it’s his mission in life to take care of me.”

Henry stared at him in confusion. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

Michael’s smile wasn’t exactly wholehearted, but it was a smile. “No, I’m just having a bad day. How’s your day going, Henry?”

Henry still looked uncertain, but he said gamely, “Fine, sir. Have you two decided on what you’d like to drink?”

Michael glanced questioningly toward Kelly.

“I’ll have a cup of tea,” she said.

Michael nodded. “The lady will have tea, and I’ll have your strongest poison.”

Henry blinked furiously. “Sir?”

Kelly bit back a chuckle. “Don’t mind him, Henry. He thinks he’s being amusing. Bring him a cup of very strong coffee. I want him wide-awake while I finish telling him what I think of him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter said, backing away from the table with undisguised relief.

“Think he’ll ever come back?” Michael asked.

“He shouldn’t,” Kelly said. “You were awful to him.”

“And to you,” Michael said. “I thought I’d save you the trouble of having to put something lethal in my coffee by asking him to do it.”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t, if I had any murderous tendencies,” Kelly told him. “Unfortunately, I still think you’re worth salvaging.”

He studied her intently. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you think I’m worth saving?”

She got the impression that he sincerely wanted to know, maybe even needed to know. “Because underneath all that exasperating self-pity, you’re a good guy. You’ve spent your life being a hero for your country. You’re smart, occasionally funny and breathtakingly handsome, though I wouldn’t let that go to your head. Good looks rarely make up for a lousy disposition.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll try to remember that from now on.”

Kelly regarded him seriously. “Michael, there really are a lot of blessings in your life. You should try counting them, instead of focusing on what you’ve lost.”

“I will,” he promised, his own expression suddenly serious. “I hope you won’t mind if I put you at the top of the list.”

Kelly’s breath caught in her throat and the tears she’d fought off returned with a vengeance. “Dammit, why did you have to go and say something so blasted sweet?” she asked, swiping impatiently at her cheeks. “I was just getting comfortable being furious with you.”

He reached over and caught a tear streaking down her face, then brushed it gently away. “Well, now, I couldn’t have that, could I?”

She sniffed and tried not to notice the way his fingers felt against her skin. “Why not?”

“You were liable to go off and leave me stranded in here,” he told her with a perfectly straight face.

Kelly choked back the laughter that bubbled up. “I should have known your reason would be totally self-serving.”

He grinned. “That’s the kind of guy I am,” he said unrepentantly.

“No,” she said emphatically. “That’s the kind of guy you want me to think you are.” She leveled a look deep into his eyes. “Which makes me wonder why you feel it’s necessary. Are you deliberately trying to scare me off, Michael? Is this part of your tactic to keep some distance between us?”

He seemed to consider the question for an eternity before finally shrugging. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Then you should know that it takes a lot more than a bad temper to scare me away.”

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I think I’d already figured that out.”

* * *

The entire scene at the restaurant had been totally draining. Given a choice, Michael would have gone back to his own apartment and hidden out for the rest of the day, but he wasn’t about to admit to Kelly just how shaken he was, both by the struggles he’d had adjusting to a world in which he wasn’t agile as a cat and to the discovery that her opinion of him mattered. It mattered far more than it should.

Which was also why he wasn’t going to back out on this visit to see his folks. He wasn’t going to give Kelly one more reason to think of him as a coward.

Given his state of emotional turmoil, he shouldn’t have been surprised by his reaction to seeing the home in which he’d grown up, but he was. It was as if a hard knot he hadn’t even known was there, deep inside, finally eased.

The house, an unimpressive, two-story brick Colonial on a quiet street, looked exactly the way it had since the first day he’d walked through the door. There was ivy climbing up one side, despite his father’s frequent attempts to destroy it. The shutters, despite his mother’s avowed intention to paint them red, were still the glossy black his father preferred, as was the front door with its gleaming brass knocker. His gaze drifted along the front walk, then froze at the sight of the steps. There were so blasted many of them. How had he forgotten?

Apparently Kelly saw his dilemma at the same instant, but she was quicker to adjust. “You can go in through the garage,” she said swiftly. “It opens directly into the kitchen, doesn’t it?”

Michael didn’t bother asking how she knew that. She had been in the house from time to time. If the visits hadn’t been especially memorable to him, apparently they had been to her. He was grateful for that at the moment.

“That’ll work,” he said at once. “The garage door’s not locked and it’s not automatic. Think you can lift it?”

She grinned and feigned flexing a muscle. “I may be little, but I’m mighty.”

She went on ahead as Michael tried to navigate the driveway. It seemed to take forever. He was surprised that no one glanced outside and caught a glimpse of him struggling up the slight incline. What if no one was home? Granted it was Saturday afternoon and his mother had always baked on Saturdays, but maybe things had changed.

As he considered that, he realized that Kelly had the garage door open. His mother’s car, the same dull gray sedan she’d driven for far too many years now, was right where it had always been. He bit back a sigh as he thought of how many times he’d offered her money to buy herself something newer, and how many times she’d told him to save his money for a rainy day.

Just then the door from the kitchen was flung open and there she was, her cheeks rosy from the heat of the oven, wisps of graying curls framing her face and an expression of pure delight on her face.

“Oh, my,” his mother whispered. “I heard the garage door, but I never imagined... Oh, my.” She was down the driveway, her arms around him before Michael could even blink away the tears that threatened.

“Mom, you have to stop crying,” he said as he held her tightly. “I’m okay, and any second now you’re going to have me blubbering. How will that look?”

“I don’t care how it looks,” she said, still not releasing him. She shook him just a little. “There’s nothing wrong with a man showing emotion. I thought I’d taught you that.”

Michael laughed. “You certainly tried.”

His mother stood up at last, then surveyed him thoroughly. “Oh, Michael, you look wonderful. Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?”

“I didn’t want you to make a fuss,” he said, knowing now how futile that had been. Surprise or no surprise, there would eventually be a fuss. He took her hand and gestured toward the garage. “There’s someone here you’ve been ignoring. Do you remember Kelly Andrews?”

His mother spun around, and her eyes lit up. “Bryan’s little sister,” she said at once, then grinned. “The one who always had a crush on you.”

Michael winced. “Mom, don’t embarrass her.”

But Kelly was laughing. “And I thought I’d hidden it so well.”

“A mother always knows,” his mother told her. “It’s wonderful to see you again. But how...?” Understanding obviously dawned, and she whirled on him. “Michael Devaney, how long have you been back in Boston?”

“Not long,” he said evasively.

She turned to Kelly. “How long?”

Kelly looked straight at him and didn’t even hesitate. “I believe it’s been about six weeks now, hasn’t it, Michael?”

“Traitor,” he said.

“Honesty should be prized,” his mother scolded. “What on earth am I thinking keeping the two of you out here when it’s bitter cold? Come inside where it’s warm, so I won’t feel guilty making you listen to me tell you just how annoyed I am with you, Michael Devaney.”

He felt a little like saying, “Aw, Ma, do I have to?” Unfortunately he knew exactly the sort of reaction that would get. He might as well go in and get the deserved lecture over with.

Looking up, he gave his mother his most appealing smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve been baking today, have you?”

She frowned at him, though there was a twinkle in her eyes. “I’ve just finished baking for the social hour after church tomorrow, as you perfectly well know, since I’ve been doing it every Saturday for the past thirty or more years. I don’t imagine anyone there will object if I cut one of the apple pies for you and Kelly.” She gave him a knowing look. “And I imagine you’ll be wanting ice cream on top.”

“Is there any other way?” he asked as his mother stepped behind the chair and briskly wheeled it inside as if she’d been doing exactly that forever.

The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and sugar and apples. While he and Kelly took off their coats, his mother bustled around cutting the pie, putting ice cream on top and setting it on the table. Only after he’d taken the first bite and made all the appropriate comments about her incredible baking did she pull out a chair and glower at him.

“Now, then,” she said in a tone with which he was all too familiar, “we’ll talk about why in heaven’s name you thought you had to keep your presence here in Boston a secret from me.”

Kelly grinned and settled back more comfortably in her chair. “I think I’m going to enjoy seeing you try to wriggle off the hook.”

His mother frowned at her. “You’re not off the hook, either, young lady. You know the phone number here. You could have tipped me off.”

Kelly instantly looked so incredibly guilty that Michael took pity on her. “Don’t blame her. I swore her to secrecy.”

It was a slight overstatement of the truth, but Kelly didn’t deserve to get one of his mother’s blistering lectures on his account. Hiding out had been his choice, though for the life of him, he couldn’t think now why he had thought it was necessary.

“Then you explain it,” his mother challenged.

He met her gaze and said simply, “I needed to get my bearings.”

“And you couldn’t do that under this roof?” she demanded incredulously.

“No,” he said quietly. “I’m not the same man I was when I left here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his mother said with obvious impatience. “Of course, you are, certainly in every way that counts. You’re going to have to do much better than that, Michael.”

Both women seemed to be watching him expectantly, but Michael didn’t have any answers for them. None his mother was likely to accept, certainly.

“I’m glad I’m here now, Mom. Isn’t that enough?”

Her eyes misted again. “Yes, I suppose it is,” she said softly, then reached for his hand. “Your father is going to be so pleased. He’ll be home soon. You can wait, can’t you? And I can call your sisters. I’m sure they’d want to be here to welcome you.”

Michael noticed that even without him having to say it, she’d apparently gotten the message that he wouldn’t be staying here with them. “Of course I can wait, as long as Kelly’s not in a rush.”

She immediately shook her head. “I’m in no rush. In fact, that will give me time to try to pry this pie recipe out of your mother.”

Nothing Kelly could have said would have done more to ingratiate her with his mother, Michael thought as he saw the pleasure bloom on Doris Havilcek’s face. Before he knew it the two of them were sharing recipes as if they’d been at it for years. He sat back, closed his eyes for an instant and let the sound of their excited talk flow over him.

It didn’t take long for the rest of his family to assemble. His foster sisters Jan and Patty, were the first to arrive, welcoming him with hugs and more stern admonishments about his failure to get in touch the instant he hit town. He was trying to fend them off with good-natured teasing when the man he’d always considered his father walked in.

Kenneth Havilcek was a big, burly man who’d spent his life in construction. He’d loved athletics and privately bemoaned the fact that his daughters weren’t the least bit interested in any of the sports he loved. When Michael had come into his life, he’d said Michael was the gift of a son he’d been dreaming about. Sports had been their bond. No father could have been prouder when Michael excelled at both football and basketball in high school. He’d never missed a single game.

He was halfway across the room, a welcoming smile on his face, when he spotted the wheelchair and faltered. When he finally met Michael’s gaze, there was a shared misery in his expression. Clearly, he understood better than most of the others in the room the full implications of Michael being unable to walk, however temporarily.

The moment lasted only a heartbeat, then he was bending over, giving Michael a hearty bear hug and a slap on the back. “Welcome home, son. I imagine your mother has already given you an earful about keeping us in the dark about being in Boston, so I won’t add to it.” He waved a finger under Michael’s nose. “But don’t think for a second I’m not as irritated by it as she is.”

“Sorry, sir.”

His father nodded. “I should think you would be. Now, then, what’s this I’ve been hearing about your biological brothers finding you?”

His sisters reacted with shock. “You’ve heard from them?” Jan demanded. “Why didn’t anybody tell me?”

“Or me?” Patty asked. “This is huge news. Where are they? Have you actually seen them? What are they like?”

Michael held up his hands. “Whoa! One question at a time. They came to San Diego when I was in the hospital, so, yes, I have seen them.”

“They were in San Diego and you wouldn’t let us come?” Jan said, her indignation plain.

“I didn’t invite them,” he protested. “They showed up.”

“I guess there’s a lesson there for us,” Patty said to her sister. “When it comes to our baby brother, we shouldn’t wait for an invitation. So where do they live? What are they like?”

“They’re right here in Boston,” he admitted. “We have a lot of old baggage to work out, but I do like them. And they’re dying to meet all of you. Ryan would like you to join us at his pub one evening.”

Patty stared at him with sudden comprehension. “Not Ryan’s Place?”

Michael nodded. “You know it?”

“I’ve been there half a dozen times for the Irish music. Ryan is your brother? I can’t believe it.” She tilted her head and studied him. “Now that you say it, though, I can see the resemblance. This is so amazing. When can we go?”

Everything was moving a little too fast for Michael. He wasn’t sure what sort of reaction he’d expected from his family, but it hadn’t been this. Then, again, he should have known that people who could welcome a little boy into their home with such open hearts would be just as eager to welcome those who mattered to him.

“How about next Friday night?” he said eventually. He turned his gaze to Kelly, who’d been sitting quietly throughout his reunion with his father and sisters. “Can you make it then?”

Michael caught the pleased look that his mother exchanged with his father and knew exactly what it meant. She already had him romantically linked with Kelly, though they’d never given her so much as a hint that Kelly was anything more than his therapist.

Kelly must have seen the same look, because she hesitated.

“I’d like you to come,” he told her, not sure why he felt it was so important to include her. He just knew that this whole day had been easier because she was by his side. He wanted her there when his two families met for the first time. “Please.”

She smiled then. “Of course, I’ll come,” she said, studying him intently. “But if you don’t mind, I think we should be going now.”

His sisters protested, but his mother took Kelly’s side and within minutes Michael was outside in Kelly’s car. He glanced over at her as they pulled away.

“How did you know I was ready to leave?” he asked.

She shrugged off the intuition. “Something in your eyes, I suppose.”

Michael sighed. It should be terrifying that she could read him so easily, but for some reason, it wasn’t. Tomorrow, when he was less exhausted, he’d have to try to figure out why.

7

Kelly had known she was in serious emotional trouble the minute she’d started sharing recipes with Doris Havilcek. There had been something so wonderfully comfortable about it, as if she were already a member of the family that had taken Michael in when he was a boy. Even as warmth had stolen through her, she had realized that she was heading down a very dangerous road. Being accepted by the obviously warmhearted Mrs. Havilcek was a far cry from having Michael indicate that he wanted her in his life in any meaningful way.

She had tried to remain on the fringes of the family’s reunion, staying silent and unobtrusive so that no one else would get the idea that she and Michael were a couple. Clearly his foster mother had jumped to that conclusion, and that was likely to be awkward enough.

Kelly had spent the rest of the weekend trying to think of some way to extricate herself from the visit to Ryan’s Place, but nothing came to mind—probably because the truth was that she wanted to be there to see how the Havilceks and Devaneys blended together, and whether Michael was at ease among them.

Even so, on Tuesday she attempted to make an excuse as she and Michael were finishing his therapy session. The two hours hadn’t gone especially well, and he was in a particularly foul temper because of it. She probably should have waited to broach the subject of Friday night until his mood improved, but she wanted to get it over with.

“One more thing,” she said as she gathered up her equipment. “I’ve been thinking about Friday, and I don’t think that’s going to work for me.”

Michael’s gaze shot up, a surprising display of alarm in his eyes. “Why not?”

“It’s just not. I...” The lie faltered on her lips, but she sucked in a breath and managed to get it out. “I have a date.”

He regarded her curiously. Suddenly his anger seemed to fade. “Is that so?” he said mildly. “Can’t be much of a date, if you didn’t even remember it when the subject of Friday night came up on Saturday.” His gaze narrowed. “Or did you make it after that?”

Kelly hated the faint hint of contempt in his eyes at the possibility that she was breaking her plans with him to go out with someone who’d issued a later invitation. “No, of course not,” she insisted, unwilling to carry the lie to that extreme. She didn’t want him to dislike her. Nor did she want to destroy the fragile trust they were building. She merely wanted to protect her heart. “It was on my calendar. I’d just forgotten about it.”