Loving Liam (Cloverleaf #1) (15 page)

“Yes, that’s Grandpa Paddy. He’s my dad’s father,” Liam answered as he moved to grab a cup, which he then filled with bright red punch from the bowl.

Rachel opened her mouth to speak.

“Hi, Liam,” a flirty, high-pitched voice interrupted as Megan pranced up to them. Her gaze turned cool as she scrutinized every inch of Rachel. “Hello, Rachel,” she said, her tone much chillier.

“Hello, Megan. It’s so wonderful you made it,” Rachel replied politely before excusing herself to go help Mary and Karen. Unable to think of anything else to say, and completely aware why Megan was so drawn to Liam, Rachel felt the need to run away. She couldn’t compete with someone like Megan, she thought. Her eyes felt watery as she quickened her pace.

***

Liam

“Don’t you look handsome, Liam.” Megan’s tone turned breathy.

“You look great too, Megan,” Liam politely responded. She did look great in the red and black dress that fit snugly around her voluptuous body and the gold jewelry glittering invitingly against her skin. It just didn’t mix up Liam like Rachel's outfit had.

“I see they set up an area for dancing. Promise me you’ll dance with me later,” Megan practically begged as she reached for his arm.

Liam saw Mr. Anderson entering through the doors with his wife. “Look, there’s Mr. Anderson. If you’ll excuse me, Megan.” As he turned to walk away, he noticed Megan looked slightly disappointed but definitely not defeated.

***

Rachel

Rachel watched the interaction between Megan and Liam and felt her heart sink. The way Megan kept touching Liam made her want to gag. It was just too much. Completely lost in spying on Liam, she didn’t notice that Karen and Mary had joined her at the buffet table until they started speaking.

“Boy, she tries so hard to get her claws into Liam,” Karen said with a hint of anger. “He’s such a nice man. I’d hate to see what she would do if she succeeded.”

“I thought she was such a doll when I first met her, but she does come off a little strong,” Mary said just as Mr. Anderson and his wife walked in. “Oh look, he’s here.”

Everyone clapped as Mr. Anderson smiled and waved bashfully to the crowd.

“You guys are making too big of a fuss for an old guy like me,” he said in his booming voice. “But since you went to all this trouble, let’s party!”

As Karen went to take Mr. and Mrs. Anderson to the buffet table, Rachel searched for Liam and found him sitting at a table, laughing with his grandfather and a man who must have been his father.

“They have such a great time when they all get together, you know,” Mary said, leaning in close to her. Feeling guilty for having been caught staring at Liam, Rachel immediately turned her attention to a fruit salad that was in front of her, taking the large metal spoon and giving it a stir.

“Liam has a sister and two brothers, and when those O’Brien men get together, Lord help me.” Mary laughed. “Do you have any siblings, dear?”

“I have a brother, Ethan. He’s a doctor back in California,” she answered proudly.

“Oh, that’s nice. Is he older than you? Are the two of you close?” Mary questioned.

“He’s a little older, and I’d say we’re fairly close. Ethan’s obviously very busy, but we try to keep in touch when we can.” Rachel couldn’t help but feel a bit sad as she thought about her brother and wished they were more connected. In fact, she wished her whole family shared a deeper connection, but everyone was so focused on leading their own lives, they didn’t have time to share or be a valued part of one another’s. That was one the reasons Rachel had left. She’d felt as if she were slowly being vacuumed into a vortex of shallowness.

When Mary excused herself to say hello to Mr. Anderson, Rachel felt like an outsider as she watched the warm interactions between the members of this community. Feeling alone and awkward, she considered leaving. Maybe she shouldn’t have included herself in this event after all. Did she have a right to be here when she was replacing this well-respected and beloved man? Did she even belong in this community? Rachel hadn’t really known what to expect when she came to Birch Valley. She certainly didn’t expect to be scooped up into a collection of old women who happened to take a shine to her, that’s for sure. Earlier in the evening, one of Karen’s friends had even invited Rachel over to play with her Bunco group. Rachel had wanted to make friends, but had assumed they would be women her own age. Now she found herself feeling like a child among these women.

Rachel had convinced herself that she should probably say good-bye to the guest of honor and head home when she felt Liam standing next to her.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” she said nervously.

“That’s okay. You seemed a little lost in thought,” Liam replied as he searched her face.

“Yeah, I was thinking about how great it is that they threw this party for Mr. Anderson.” She shrugged. “So have you had a chance to review that pamphlet I handed out? Megan mentioned you guys were going to start studying it together.” She tried to sound professional and not petty but was pretty sure she failed at it.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Let’s not talk shop tonight,” he pleaded.

“Why? We work here. If anything, this is the perfect place.” Rachel motioned around them.

“No, it’s not. This, Rachel, is a party, if you hadn’t noticed. And usually at parties, people eat, drink, dance, and have a good time. Talking about some annoying program, that I have no intention of following, is not really what I do at parties.”

Liam was obviously irritated with her, and Rachel recoiled, her blood starting to simmer with anger. “I see. Well, I guess there’s really nothing for us to discuss then. But as far as that new curriculum guideline is concerned, you will be following it.”

Liam hovered over her and rubbed his chin. “You know, you weren’t even here for a full day before you started bossing everyone around.”

“Well, in case you weren’t aware, that’s exactly what I am—your boss,” she snapped, squaring her shoulders defiantly.

“Oh come off it,” Liam said, raising his voice slightly. “You could have waited, let everyone warm up to the idea of Mr. Anderson leaving first. You didn’t have to rush right in, guns blazing, shooting off orders about how you want to change everything. Oh, and for the record, everything was just fine before you got here.”

“For the record, everything was not ‘just fine,’ and that, Liam, is why the district hired me. They know what I can do for this school. So, obviously, whatever you’re doing isn’t quite enough. At least according to the state’s standard.”

Rachel stopped, wondering if she had crossed the line. After all, Liam wasn’t the only one responsible for the school not quite being up to par.

But that regret vanished as Liam furrowed his thick brows at her. “You think you’re better than us because you come from California,” he said, his eyes darkening with anger. “But let me tell you something, we are tons better than you.”

His words stung. Rachel knew she had hurt him, but insulting her because of where she came from was ludicrous. Without another word, she stormed away, making a beeline for the principal. Calming herself, she congratulated him again on his retirement and wished him the best. She also made sure to thank him for handing over such an amazing school that he had cultivated during his tenure.

Rachel then left through the double doors, fighting the urge to go back and apologize to Liam while chastising herself for having let her guard down even a bit. Earlier in the night, she’d thought she felt a spark of attraction between them. Now she wanted nothing to do with Mr. High and Mighty.

Chapter Eleven

A couple weeks had passed since the retirement party, and things between Liam and Rachel remained awkward. They would give each other a curt nod or a brief glance when passing in the halls, but they didn’t speak. Instead, Rachel went about focusing her attention on her new job, paying no mind to what Liam O’Brien was doing—well, she tried not to, anyway.

The school would be testing at the end of the following month, and she planned on getting together with the staff to see how her curriculum change was going. She’d recently met with the superintendent, who had harshly reminded her about the importance of her position and the need to get the school on track. She’d walked away from the meeting a little shaken up, knowing she needed to get the school in line if she wanted her contract renewed for the following school year.

One Thursday evening, Rachel was at home going over a mock skills test for the students when her phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hello, Rachel, dear,” Mary O’Brien sang out. “I was thinking about baking some of those muffins you loved. My daughter and my adorable granddaughter are coming out for a visit this weekend. They live in Seattle and just called me a little while ago, saying they’re going to be here Saturday.”

“Oh, that’s nice that they’re driving over. How will the pass be with that snow we just got?” Rachel asked, remembering the fiasco with the moving truck a month earlier.

“Maggie, my daughter, says it’s pretty clear. Anyway, I know I promised to show you how to make my muffins.”

Rachel appreciated Mary’s thoughtfulness, and she was itching to get out of the house. Since the meeting with the superintendent, she had pretty much left her home only to go to work and get groceries so she could keep her mind on business.

“Also, I was thinking we could throw in a little cooking lesson perhaps,” Mary suggested warmly.

“You know what, that sounds great, Mary. When would you like to get together?” Rachel asked, throwing caution to the wind. She deserved a little downtime, and she couldn’t refuse a chance to eat some more of those scrumptious muffins.

“I was thinking perhaps Saturday morning if you are available. My daughter could use a lesson in the kitchen as well, and I think she will just love you,” Mary added with a hopeful sigh.

“Sounds good. Can I bring anything?”

“Nope, only yourself, my dear.”

***

Liam

That Friday night, Liam had his feet propped up on his rustic coffee table as he enjoyed a beer. Snow had started to spill from the sky on his way home from work, and he was glad he’d had time to carry a bunch of firewood into his house before the storm really got going.

The log in his fireplace fell and loudly groaned as the heat split it, and Liam slowly lifted himself out of his comfortable position to add another to the dying fire. He was nearly finished stoking it back into a roaring blaze when he heard the familiar ring of his phone.

Pushing himself off the ground, he sprinted to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart. How was work today?” Mary sounded delighted and upbeat.

“Good. Was getting the fire going here. You guys doing all right with this little storm we got going on?”

“Oh yes, handling it just fine, dear. I only pray this doesn’t hinder Maggie coming over the pass. She was going to leave this afternoon but decided to come tomorrow morning instead.”

The pass could be dangerous this time of year, so Liam was glad his sister was being cautious. “That was a good idea, Mom. Better to be safe than sorry. How come she doesn’t fly in more?”

“Heaven knows I’m deathly afraid of planes, and I hate to admit it, but I think she inherited her hate for flying from her dear old mother,” Mary added, her tone worried.

“Ah, it’s not that bad, and Michael does it all the time.”

“Well, my daughter prefers keeping both feet on the ground, just like me. Anyway, I wanted to make sure you were going to come over tomorrow for dinner and to see them.”

“Of course, Mom. How is Maggie doing, by the way? She seemed way happier when she left with Michael on New Year’s Day,” Liam said, planting himself back on the couch.

“Maggie is doing okay, though I fear they’ve had a spat recently. She seemed a little upset this morning when I spoke with her.”

“Well, she probably misses everyone. You know how she loves being out here. Funny too, because she couldn’t leave fast enough after high school.” Liam laughed.

“I suppose you’re right, dear. We miss her terribly too. She has to feel so lonely with how many hours Michael has been putting in at the office. Poor man, working himself to death,” Mary added, sounding concerned.

“It’s good she tries to come out for visits. You should go over there soon, Mom. I bet she would really enjoy that,” Liam suggested, thinking he might have to visit her himself soon too.

“I prefer being here, but perhaps I will. Well, sweetheart, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Mary hung up, leaving Liam alone in the quiet of his house with only the sound of the crackling wood for company. Liam usually enjoyed the serenity of his home. He got enough chaos and loudness in class during the week and at his parents’ home at Sunday dinner. He liked being able to decompress and meditate, but after having that argument with Rachel at the retirement party, he had a hard time being alone with his thoughts. He replayed their conversation over and over again in his mind, trying to see how he could have handled it differently, but
at the same time, he was still angry with her because he didn’t care for how she’d diminished his teaching and practically blamed him for the students’ mediocre performance on standardized tests.
He also hated how Rachel invaded his sleep. He kept dreaming of them being together, mainly in a physical sense, and they were doing a lot more than holding hands.

Why was he plagued by her? He knew a relationship between them could never work out. They were polar opposites, and he refused to believe the saying about opposites attracting.

***

Rachel

Rachel woke up Saturday and dressed for a day of baking and cooking in her most comfortable jeans and a faded, old T-shirt featuring her college mascot. She decided to pack another shirt in case she stayed for dinner, as she wasn’t sure how messy this whole baking adventure was going to be. T
he last time she’d tried to make anything in the kitchen, she and Chelsea had drunk a bit too much wine before attempting to bake brownies, and Chelsea’s fabulous kitchen had quickly turned into a chocolate-covered disaster.
Neither woman had any clue about how to cook, having grown up relying on their nannies or their parents’ personal chefs to feed them. Rachel had learned how to make coffee, which was essential for survival, and she could nuke a frozen dinner pretty darn good. But after that awful experiment and a couple others she would prefer to forget, she’d realized she had no business being in a kitchen. Thank God for takeout.

***

Several inches of new snow covered her car as Rachel left her home, suited up to face the cold weather. The snow brush her neighbor Sue-Ellen had gifted her made easy work of clearing the white, icy powder off her car. Rachel was acclimating to the cold temperatures, but she still wasn’t a fan of snow. It got in the way, complicating travel to work and to the grocery store, which were the only places she had been in weeks. She wanted to invest a little time in checking out the adorable businesses that lined the gorgeous main street. Each storefront looked friendly and inviting, and Rachel longed for warm and sunny days like those back home, where she could enjoy lazily window-shopping while sipping her gourmet coffee.

As the thoughts of warmth and sunshine penetrated her mind, Rachel stopped at the grocery store, where she perused the small floral department for something cheery to bring Mary. She decided on a lively bouquet of sunflowers in different shades of yellow and sprigs of greenery, then carefully drove the several blocks to Mary’s street, where she admired the similar homes with matching front porches until she located Mary’s.

After parking on the street, Rachel gathered the flowers and her purse. As she trudged up the snow-filled walkway, a man exited through the bright red front door carrying a snow shovel.

“Hello, can I help you?” he asked, smiling broadly.

“Hi, I’m here to see Mary,” Rachel cautiously answered. Perhaps she was at the wrong house.

“Oh, you must be Rachel?” The man extended a large gloved hand. His cheeks were already rosy from the few seconds he’d spent out in the cold. “I’m Daniel.”

“Hi, Daniel, nice to meet you.” She shook his hand.

“Mom’s been expecting you. Sorry, I was meaning to shovel the path before you got here.” He stabbed the snow with the bright red plastic shovel.

“It’s okay, really,” Rachel said. If this was Liam’s brother, he didn’t really look anything like Liam at all, and he was definitely cheerier than Liam, but he did have the same remarkable eyes.

“Mom’s going to love those,” Daniel said as he eyed the bouquet.

“Oh good. You know, some people hate getting flowers brought to them, but today I was thinking about spring, and how warm it is back home in California, and I suddenly felt like flowers,” she rambled, feeling nervous.

“Well, let’s get you and those pretty flowers inside.” Daniel led Rachel through the front door, while loudly announcing her arrival to his mother.

The O’Brien home was older and had a distinctive style, much like the home she was renting, with arches and shelves built into the walls and unexpected surprises. The comfortable and soft decor had a modern, rustic flare. A fire was burning in the brick fireplace in the living room, where two soft, brown leather couches with bold-patterned pillows sat across from each other on a beautiful thick rug that covered the dark wood floor.

Mary stepped from a hallway into the room, wearing a floral apron over her blouse and pants. “Oh Rachel, so glad you could make it. Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you so much for inviting me. These are for you,” Rachel replied as she handed Mary the flowers.

“These are beautiful. I simply adore flowers.”

Rachel smiled. “Yeah, I was telling Daniel how I was missing the warmth of the sun back home and needed a little dose of spring.”

Daniel returned her smile with a broad grin, his cheeks still rosy from the cold. “Well, I got a sidewalk to shovel, especially if I want to get one of those muffins you guys are going to be baking.”

“Son, you better get out there, then,” Mary teased as she playfully swatted at Daniel, who was already heading back outside.

Before Mary could lead Rachel to the kitchen, a little girl with thick, bouncy, auburn hair cut into a bob rammed into Mary.

“This, Rachel, is my prettiest little granddaughter, Melanie.”

Rachel leaned down to greet the child, who was, indeed, quite pretty. Her skin was milky, her cherub lips were pink like little rosebuds, and her eyes, though a different shade than Liam’s and Daniel’s, were green with flecks of amber and sheltered behind thick lashes.

“Melanie, this is Rachel.” Mary peeled the little girl from her waist and led her closer to their visitor.

“Hello, Melanie, it’s nice to meet you. And your grandmother is right. You are such a pretty girl,” Rachel said in a soft voice, trying to sound soothing and gentle.

“Thank you,” Melanie whispered as her eyes twinkled and her chubby cheeks rounded into a sheepish grin, much like Daniel’s.

Rachel went on to ask Melanie several questions: how old she was, what grade she was in, her favorite animal, and other simple icebreakers to get the child to open up, which she quickly did.

After they got acquainted, Mary led them down a hall, where Rachel spotted an archway to her right that led to what appeared to be a den. Two older men sat inside, engrossed in newspapers, one puffing on an old pipe. As the sweet, tantalizing tobacco smoke reached Rachel’s nose, Mary knocked softly against one side of the archway.

“We have a visitor, gentlemen,” Mary announced, pointing to the younger of the two men. “Rachel that is my husband, Pat, and his father, who we all call Grandpa Paddy. My friend Rachel is here to do a little baking with me,” she said proudly.

Rachel emerged from behind Mary and gingerly waved at them. “Good morning, I’m Rachel. Very nice to meet you both.”

“Ah, you’re the new principal down at the school where my grandson teaches?” Grandpa Paddy asked in his thick brogue as he looked at her over the rims of the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He too had the famed O’Brien eyes, which danced with mischief.

Rachel loved the sound of accents, especially Irish, Scottish, or English ones. The way words rolled off their foreign tongues gave every word an unusual, almost fairy-tale-like flare. “Yes, that would be me.” Rachel smiled back.