in the early 1900s. Though I was the first-born, Liam had been raised the royal, loyal son. That made his appearance here troubling.
Guarded, I asked, “Is Mom okay?” I had often wondered whether I would be contacted if she was ill.
“She’s fine,” he said. “Bossy as ever.”
“Is something else wrong?” I held off Jonah when he tried to lick my face.
“Why does something have to be wrong?”
“Because you’re here,” I said, wary still. “Out of the blue, Liam. You haven’t called. You haven’t written. I send you birthday cards every year, but you never acknowledged a one.”
“Well, they accomplished their goal,” he said with a grin. “They gave me your address. I sure couldn’t ask Mom for it, but she’ll be guessing where I am.” He grimaced, yikes. “That won’t go over well.”
Seriously, I thought, but my sympathy was short-lived. He owed me an explanation for why he was here in my house—and yes, I was angry. With each year that had passed without any sign from him that I mattered, my hurt had deepened. Anger was what came of hurt that had simmered just a little too long.
Bracing my back against the door, I pushed myself up. Jonah sat apart from me now, regarding my brother as if he didn’t know what to make of him any more than I did.
“I like your dog,” Liam said. “He must have smelled family DNA on me, because he didn’t bark when I came in. By the way, thanks for tucking the key behind the wreath. I wasn’t sure you’d follow the custom, bad feelings for Mom and all, and I wasn’t sure you’d still have a wreath on the door so long after the holidays.”
“My friend makes seasonal ones.”
“Then thanks to her. All I could think when I was trudging up that road was that if you weren’t home, I’d be locked out. By the way, I have the best app on my phone. Your road was right there on the map.”
I don’t use apps to guide me. Ever. They come with too many reminders, none of which, apparently, registered with my brother.
I folded my arms and waited.
“It’s a relief, actually,” he went on. “There may not be many streets around here, but I wouldn’t want to get lost in the woods—like I guess I pretty much, basically, already did.” Brightening, he glanced back at my tiny kitchen. “Got anything to eat? I stopped at a taco place right before Devon, but it was crazy—no organization, people talking between tables, servers zoned out. I have to say, they were doing a good business. I just didn’t care to give them mine.”
I said nothing, simply stood with my arms folded.
He stared. “Geez. Do you ever look like Mom. If you’ve turned into her, I’m outta here. Edward can find someone else to be his chef.”
That broke my freeze. My arms dropped. “You’re here for Edward?”
“I’m his new chef.”
“At the Inn?”
“At the restaurant he’s opening in town. It’s part of the resort consortium. Didn’t he tell you?”
“Why would he? We’re divorced.”
“But he moved here.”
“Yeah. We’re working on that,” I said, but I was sick. So it wasn’t only the Inn. It was a restaurant in town, maybe more, if a consortium was involved. If he had hired Liam and done God-knew-what-else to dig himself in, the chances he would leave were slimmer than ever. “Of all the chefs in the world, he picked you?”
“I’m good,” Liam argued, sounding offended, but I didn’t care.
“I thought you were working at a restaurant in West Hartford. What happened to that one?”
His phone dinged. He pulled it out, checked the screen, put it back. “I quit.”
“Before or after Edward hired you?”
“After. I’m not dumb, Maggie. I wouldn’t quit one if I didn’t have another. For what it’s worth, he asked me, not the other way around.”
“But how did he know what you were doing?”
“We kept in touch.”
Slap. “You kept in touch with him but not with me? Now, that makes me feel good.”
“Nuh-uh-uh. You know what Mom says about sarcasm.”
“Oh yes,” I sighed and toed off a boot. “Sarcasm is the language of the devil. Thomas Carlyle was one of her favorites. Know what else Carlyle said?” In my longest, darkest days, I had Googled the Scottish philosopher to try to understand what Mom had seen in his thoughts and maybe, just maybe find one to offer me solace. “A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge,” I told Liam as I kicked the second boot