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Shamrock Inn

By Joi Copeland

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Chapter One
Devin Miles eyed the contraption in his hand. He must be seeing things. No way was his seventy-year-old mother calling him after twenty years of silence. How'd she get his number anyway? Sure, he had hers programmed into the phone just in case an emergency came up. That was his personality. He actually cared about people. Unlike his parents.
Devin shook his head and hit the green button. "Mother."
The simple word sent shivers up and down his spine.
"You must come home. Now."
Typical. No niceties would come from his mom's mouth. No questions about how he'd been the last two decades.
"No." Devin's short answer would not be taken lightly.
"Yes. Your father's had a heart attack. I need you to do your duty as our only child. Come home and take care of the man who raised you." She spouted off the words like a grocery list.
Running his hand over his weary eyes, Devin sighed. Guilt. One thing the old woman was good at.
"How long ago?" Already making a mental list of things he'd need to pack, Devin heaved a suitcase from under his bed and plopped it on top.
"Three weeks."
"And you're just now calling me? What did the doctor say? How severe was the attack?" Devin clinched his jaw. Count to ten. Just count to ten.
His mother huffed. "Well, it wouldn't have taken so long had I had your number. This little tantrum you're throwing has lasted long enough."
"Tantrum? Mother, you know full well why I walked away from you and Father."
"Oh bother. Are you still hanging on to that? It's time you let it go."
"Let it-" Devin shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Not the time to get into the past. "I'll be on the next plane."
While he and his father's relationship was strained, he didn't want to leave it that way. He should've gone home long before now. But how could he? Dealing with his own pain over the last few years took all of his energy. The last thing he needed or wanted was to add more heartache. Soon that would change.
"Good." His mother mumbled something unintelligible. "I'll have your old room ready."
"No. I'm not staying at the house. I'll make other arrangements."
The front door to his house slammed.
"Daddy?" His daughter's voice traveled up the stairs.
Devin muted the phone. "Upstairs, hon."
"Son, you can't mean to tell me you're not going to be here at the house. Why ever not? And how will you be of any use to us?"
His mother's sharp words raised the hair on the back of his neck. Of course. Mother only wanted him around for his usefulness. Forget love or care. She'd never given him that. Why would he expect it now? Well, he would not give in.
Unmuting the phone, he ran his hand through his gray hair. No doubt given to him by his parents at an early age. The thought almost made him chuckle.
"Either I stay where I want, or I don't come at all." Those many years of counseling finally paid off. Boundaries, his therapist had said.
Tamsen leaned her thin frame against the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows raised in question.
He held up one finger.
Seconds ticked by.
His mother sniffed, a tactic she'd used when he was growing up to make sure everyone knew she accepted the role of martyr. "Fine. Have it your way."
"Good. I'll let you know when I've arrived and settled in."
Tempted to smash the phone against the wall, Devin decided instead to toss it on his bed.
"Hm. Why do I get the feeling this was not a pleasant call?" Tamsen grinned.
"Don't get me started." Devin growled. "Want to take a trip with your old dad?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
Tamsen giggled. "I'm twenty-one years old, Dad. You're not that old." She sauntered into his room and glanced around. "It's been four years since Mom died. Don't you think it's time to get rid of her stuff?"
Devin sank onto the empty spot on his bed and ran his hand along Hazel's nightstand. "I've tried. Believe me. But something always holds me back."
Kneeling in front of him, Tamsen patted Devin's knee. "When we get back," her lips lifted a little bit, confirming she'd be flying with him, "we'll go through this together. Deal?"
Devin kissed her forehead. "Deal."
Tamsen pulled another suitcase out from under his bed. "Where are we going?"

#
Angela Graham hung up the phone, a smile toying with her lips. Ah, the inn would be filled with customers. The young woman she spoke with a few moments ago had taken up the last two rooms. Tanner, Angela's son, and his wife Snowe would be thrilled. Less than two years, and Shamrock Inn was a glowing success. Edna would be so proud of what Snowe had done with the gift she'd left her after her death.
Trekking through the kitchen, Angela paused at the sliding glass door leading to the outside. April temperatures varied, but today the sun shone through the trees, casting dancing shadows in the backyard. The weathermen promised a spring thaw, which meant temperatures would be above forty degrees. The perfect season to have a packed inn. Watching the lobster boats getting ready, visiting the puffin colonies, and whale watching were just a few of the touristy things to do. Oh, yes, her guests would have a good time here in Camden, Maine.
"Mom?" Tanner's feet pounded the steps leading down to the first floor of the Shamrock.
"In the kitchen." Angela turned in time to see her son's smile light up his face.
What a handsome boy! Well, man now. If only his father had the opportunity to see him. She shook her thoughts away as her eyes drank in her only child. Dark blond hair on top of his head mixing to a darker shade. His full beard neatly trimmed, probably just this morning. Blue eyes almost the color of his father's. Not like her dreary brown. So much like the man who created him, but never having the pleasure of knowing. A sigh escaped her lips. She should've told him more about his father. Yet, she never had. She'd kept him hidden in her heart, tucked away for only herself. Selfish woman.
"You okay?" Tanner's brows met in the middle of his forehead.
"Just wishing you would've known your father." Angela lifted a shoulder and let it fall. "He would be so proud of you."
"I've wondered about him lately. Sad that he was one of the soldiers to die in the Gulf War. Maybe when you're ready, we can talk more about him." Hope crossed Tanner's face as he ran a hand over his beard. "Do you miss him?"
"Every day. I know you weren't conceived in marriage, and I wish we'd done it the way God intended. But you are my treasure." Angela patted his arm. "Now, you didn't come down here to talk to me about your father. What do you need?"
"I'm taking Snowe to the doctor. She's been sick for a week, and she's not getting better. I just want to make sure all is well." He pulled two travel mugs from the cupboard then used the ladle to fill them with the peppermint cocoa she had brewing on the stove.
"You think that will help her?" Angela raised one eyebrow.
"Who knows? Can't hurt." A twinkle in her son's eyes made her laugh.
"Oh, by the way, the inn will be full by tomorrow night. A woman and her father just rented out the last two rooms."
Tanner gave a low whistle. "Wow. I can't believe how fast this has happened. Seems like yesterday I was fixing up the place, praying Snowe would choose to stay in Maine."
"And now look at you. Married over a year, booming businesses. How's Ryder handling running the construction side of your business?" Angela followed her son to the entryway and waited at the bottom of the stairs for her daughter-in-law to arrive.
"He's doing fine. I think he really enjoys calling the shots. Making Ryder partner turned out to be the best decision."
"Hi, Mom." Snoweflake descended the stairs, her brown hair in a neat ponytail.
Angela held out her arms to the sweet young woman. "Snowe. I'm sorry you're still not feeling well."
Tanner held out the mug to his young wife. She inhaled the peppermint aroma, a grin spreading across her face.
"If anything can help me, this will." Snowe took a small sip and sighed. "Mm. If this isn't in heaven, I don't know what will be."
Angela threw her head back and laughed and then shook her finger at Snowe. "Flattery will get you everywhere!" She kissed them both and pushed them out the door. "Let me know how the appointment goes. I'll be praying."
Once they were gone, she surveyed the living room. No dust accumulation yet. Glancing at her watch, she gasped. If she didn't get dinner started, her guests wouldn't be eating. And tomorrow night, the dining room table wouldn't be missing two. No, the seats would all be full. Very much like her heart.

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