“I can’t,” I replied without thinking. It was absurd to even consider it. People didn’t just drop what they were doing and travel across the ocean to return lost items. But the more that I thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed.
I had no responsibilities here in the States. I had no job, and no one to hold me down. What was my plan for the future? I had a degree in accounting but no real experience. I was twenty-five years old with no family, no boyfriend, and no place to live. Once Nan’s house was on the market, I would have to rent an apartment. In order to feed myself, I would have to get a job. I wasn’t sure what kind of entry level position I could secure in a few weeks’ time, but it wasn’t likely to be very rewarding. Maybe Icouldgo to Ireland. In fact, maybe I could move there.
The idea began to grow on me in just a few short breaths. Nan had been a teenager in Dublin, if I remembered correctly. It was the largest city in the country, on the east coast just across the sea from Great Britain.
I had never even been to Mexico. When I was in college, some other students habitually took trips across the southern border, but I never went with them. Now the thought of packing up and leaving all my heartache behind stirred something inside me. It was a new adventure, a way to get out of my funk.
I loved Nan with all my heart, and the thought of seeing all the places she’d told me about was wildly exciting. Suddenly it seemed like the world had opened up. Instead of tragedy, I had adventure to look forward to.
“I’ll do it,” I told the person on the phone.
“Wonderful,” she said. “Send me the details, and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
CHAPTERTWO
FLYNN
If I had a euro for every time Kelly abandoned me, I would have doubled my fortune in a single year. She was hot, there was no denying that, but she was mad as a hatter. I met her at work. She had been my secretary, though I should have left well enough alone.
One night when we were working late, she made it clear that she had nowhere else she wanted to be. Chewing seductively on the tip of a pencil, she forgot that she was supposed to take notes. Coming closer, she leaned forward, giving me a full-frontal view of her breasts.
I did what any man would have done in that situation. I pulled her into my lap and began a whirlwind affair. It only lasted a few days before she decided she had enough. Putting in her two weeks’ notice, she informed me that I had taken advantage of her. A paycheck later and she was strutting through my office like a dog in heat.
I was confused but turned on. I listened to my libido instead of my brain. Our relationship was hot and cold. One minute she was tearing her clothes off, and the next she was claiming that I smothered her.
The pregnancy was the final straw. Of all the foolish, risky things for me to do, knocking her up was by far the worst. I was determined to do the right thing, and I proposed the moment I received confirmation of her condition. She wasn’t impressed.
“You’re just marrying me because of the baby,” she snapped.
“Of course I am,” I growled. The girl had a penchant for stating the obvious. What other reason could I possibly have for wanting to tie the knot with someone who drove me crazy? I had to have her, but I wanted nothing to do with her. I had resigned myself to a lifetime of torture just to make sure the child was provided for.
Kelly melted, changing emotions with lightning speed. She curled up into my arms, calling me sweetheart. Accepting my proposal, she slid the ring onto her finger. It was worth more than her annual salary, not that I was going to pay her any longer. As my wife, she wouldn’t have to work, and I would be free to hide out in my office, away from all her bullshit.
The very next day she disappeared. I was furious. Was she selling the ring? What was wrong with her? Couldn’t she see that life with me would be preferable to life on her own? What was she going to do with the child? My child? She couldn’t live off the proceeds of her ill-gotten jewelry for very long.
I launched a massive campaign to find her, scouring the countryside and all the little towns and villages spread far and wide. It was no use. Wherever she had gone, I couldn’t locate her. My army of detectives and lawyers came up empty-handed, and I was forced to admit that I had lost.
The thought of her out there raising my child in poverty was infuriating. I counted the months until I thought she was due. I didn’t care about her; I just wanted my son or daughter brought home. A little more than a year later, Kelly appeared on my doorstep, dressed in her habitual skin-tight getup.
I fought to maintain a straight face, even though I was seething inside. She had a baby carrier with her, the top down so I couldn’t see the child. Marching inside as if she owned the place, she demanded a payout.
I gave it to her without a word. The head of my household, Hud, offered her a cup of coffee. She accepted happily, as if we were all old friends being reunited. I kept my mouth shut, afraid that if I spoke, she would see the depths of my anger.
She acted like a floozy, bouncing around the mansion as if it were some high-rolling hotel. She parked the baby by the door and completely ignored it. After a half hour, the child woke up and began to cry.
I left Kelly in the living room, crossing the hall to kneel before my baby. I slid the sunscreen up, revealing the face that already meant the world to me. Seanan was perfect. I could tell instantly that she was a girl, her chubby little face balled up in agony. Reaching in to unhook her from the carrier, I lifted her into my arms.
She didn’t quiet at first. I had no experience with babies and didn’t know how to handle one. I didn’t know if she needed a diaper change or a bottle, or whatever else babies had to have. I did know that she needed love and attention, and that she wasn’t getting it from Kelly.
I was determined not to let my daughter out of my sight, and from then on, my first responsibility was to her. I took the child into the kitchen, hunting through the refrigerator for some milk. Hud found me there and had a difficult time not breaking into a smile.
“I don’t think babies drink that type of milk,” he said.
“What kind of milk do they drink?” I demanded.
“Breast milk.”
I fixed my employee with a dangerous stare. There was no way I was going to part with the infant to let Kelly feed her. That woman had done enough damage. I couldn’t imagine her being maternal enough to breast feed anyway, and I didn’t want to ask.