Sherryl Woods - Willow Brook Road

“I think I’ll go crazy and have another cup of coffee,” she announced with a greater sense of triumph than the decision deserved.

Sally nodded and went to greet a group of tourists who’d just taken over two tables in the middle of the room, using half the chairs for all their packages. Clearly their visit had been good for the Chesapeake Shores economy.

Just then Sam came in the door, a firm hand on his nephew’s shoulder. The boy wore a mutinous expression as Sam guided him to the booth where Carrie was waiting.

“Carrie, this is Bobby. Bobby, Carrie is the nice lady who helped me decide on that delicious Irish stew we had for dinner last night.”

Ignoring both her and his uncle, Bobby crawled across the seat and settled in a corner of the booth, arms folded across his chest, his gaze downcast.

“Sorry,” Sam mouthed.

Carrie debated her strategy, then opted to be direct, acting as if Bobby weren’t so determined to punish Sam and pretend she didn’t exist.

“I saw you climb that jungle gym on the playground just now,” she said, her tone cheerful.

Bobby gave her a surprised look, but remained stubbornly silent.

Carrie was undaunted. “You were really high. You must be very brave. How old are you?”

She saw Sam start to answer for him, and shook her head. He sat back and waited.

“I think I was about your age when my twin sister and I climbed up on the railing on the porch at my grandfather’s house and tried to walk it like a tightrope,” she continued as if he’d responded. “It was pretty scary, but fun, too. At least till our mom caught us.”

Bobby finally met her gaze, a faint interest sparking in his eyes. “Was it very high?”

“Not as high as the jungle gym, but pretty high.”

“I like to climb stuff,” he said. “And I never get scared.”

“That’s great, but it’s important to understand that some things have risks. You don’t want to do anything that might be dangerous. A broken arm or leg wouldn’t be much fun.”

Bobby shrugged. “My friend Pete had a cast on his arm. He said it itched. And there were lots of things he couldn’t do for a long time.”

“Something to remember,” Carrie suggested. “I heard you might want a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. That’s my favorite, too. Sally’s are the best.”

Curiosity finally overcame his bad mood. “Is that the lady who owns this place?”

Carrie nodded. “And here’s another tip. If you’re nice to her, she sometimes has cookies still warm from the oven for her best-behaved customers.”

Bobby’s eyes widened. “Chocolate chip, like we had last night?”

“Even better,” Carrie said, praying Nell would forgive her if she ever heard about that traitorous claim.

“I think you’ve said the magic words,” Sam said. “Bobby and I are both suckers for warm chocolate-chip cookies.”

“I can eat lots and lots of them,” Bobby agreed.

“But only after lunch,” Sam reminded him just as Sally arrived to take their orders for two grilled cheese sandwiches, a burger for Sam and an order of fries for the table.

Clearly more at ease now, Bobby glanced across the table and studied Jackson in his carrier. “Is that your baby?”

“No, Jackson is my nephew. He stays with me sometimes.”

“Like I’m staying with Sam?”

“Not exactly,” Carrie said. “He goes home to his dad at night. His dad’s a doctor here in town and his mom is in school in Baltimore.”

Bobby looked puzzled. “If she’s a mom, isn’t she too old for school?”

Carrie smiled. “This is a special school for people learning to be doctors.”

“Is she gonna give shots?”

“I imagine so.”

He gave an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t like shots.”

“Most people don’t,” Carrie agreed. “But I happen to know that Jackson’s dad gives shots that you barely even notice.”

“Did he give one to you?”

“More than one. I was going on a trip and needed several before I went.”

Bobby shook his head. “I’d have stayed home.”

“And missed out on a big adventure?” Carrie said. “I thought it was worth it.”

“Where did you go?” Sam asked.

“Africa. My grandfather has taken on the task of designing and building medical facilities for several small villages, something that’s increasingly critical with all of the outbreaks of Ebola that have been occurring in that part of the world. I went with him and my grandmother to talk to the people and see what they needed. While he did his thing, we worked with the women in the villages to help with their English and teach them some preventative care for their babies.”

“That’s impressive. Are you involved in his work on a regular basis?”

“Not really. Helping in underserved villages is my sister’s passion. It’s the reason she’s studying to be a doctor. And the trip was my grandfather’s way of trying to motivate me to get on with my life.”

“What do you do now, aside from taking care of your nephew?” Sam asked.

“Not much,” she said candidly. “And that’s the problem.” Relief washed over her when she saw Sally coming with their food. “Here’s our lunch.”

She stole a French fry from the plate the minute it was on the table, avoiding Sam’s curious gaze. She glanced his way again and realized she’d been wrong. It wasn’t curiosity on his face. His expression had actually shut down as if he disapproved of her glib response.

Okay, maybe her life was a bit of a disorganized, unplanned mess at the moment, but who was he to judge? As she focused her attention on her meal, it dawned on her how annoying snap judgments could be. Perhaps that was exactly how Sam had felt earlier today and last night, when she’d been judging him.

Maybe she’d been a little premature in telling Sally they were friends. They were, at best, distrustful acquaintances. With surprising regret, she realized she didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

* * *

Except for Carrie’s ability to coax Bobby out of his stony silence, lunch had pretty much been a disaster, Sam decided as he headed back to the inn with his chattering nephew at his side. He couldn’t exactly ponder what had gone wrong, though, with Bobby asking a million and one questions about the town, the bay and every bird they saw. Sam’s answers were in short supply. Who knew a six-year-old could be so bright and inquisitive?

“Why don’t we look for some books about all that the next time we’re in town?” he suggested at last.

“We could go back now,” Bobby said, gazing up at him hopefully. “I saw a bookstore right next to where we ate.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap?”

“I don’t take naps,” Bobby scoffed. “I’m too big.”

Sam sighed. “Okay, then. Let’s go back.”

This was Sam’s first visit to the bookstore. He was surprised by how extensive the selection appeared to be. It even had a cozy little coffee area.

Bobby immediately gravitated toward the children’s section, where books had been left scattered around and child-size furniture invited kids to sit and look at the books or play with the book-themed toys. Clearly the owner understood a lot about children. It was an atmosphere that invited curiosity and exploration, rather than one that said Hands Off!

A woman emerged from the back and beamed, first at Bobby, then at him. “Hi, I’m Shanna O’Brien,” she said, holding out her hand to Sam. “And you’re the new web designer working with Mack.”

Sam blinked, astounded not only by her perceptiveness, but by her last name. “Excuse me for letting my jaw drop,” he said. “But I’m beginning to think O’Briens are everywhere,”

She laughed. “Pretty much, and with all the babies in the next generation, I don’t see that changing.”