Embraceable You (Irish Hearts Series)

“Merry Christmas, you son-of-a-bitch.”  Siena slammed her resignation letter down on the mahogany desk.

“Siena darling, wait. Let's talk. Let me explain. You don’t have to go to this extreme.”

“Extreme? Warren, that's the only way I can think right now! I considered murder, but I don’t know which of you to kill. I don’t think I could beat two counts. And don't 'darling' me ever again!”

“I’m sorry you feel so strongly about this. But don’t quit your job, for God’s sake! Who's going to handle the
Paisley Project?”

“You're sorry? Well that’s not working for me right now. And I don't give a damn who handles what. I’m sure my therapist would agree; maybe even testify on my behalf if, in a crazed moment, I took this letter opener to your throat.”

"You have a therapist?" He looked alarmed, like he might believe her.

"No you bastard! But I'll need one if I follow my
natural instincts and murder you! How stupid of me not to know you were dicking around!" She whirled around to leave, nearly tripping on a chair in the process.

Within the hour, Siena Summerfield had quit her job, cleaned out her desk, said a quick good-bye to a couple of so-called business friends and left the building. Next thing she knew, she was sprawled on the icy sidewalk out front, the contents of her desk helter-skelter around her. Her purple leggings made a V in the snow and she tried to get up, creating a bizarre snow angel in the process. But what was coming out of her mouth was not angel material.

She knew the minute the cold impact reverberated through her body that something was wrong. She’d felt that pain before, same arm, years ago. And the childhood memories of that event were just as painful as the one in her arm right now.

Later, the handsome young orthopedic doc in Urgent Care hurried into her curtained space and popped the x-rays of her arm into a li
ght box on the wall. “Good news. Not broken, but looks like you’ve got a really bad strain, those ligaments around the elbow. Probably where you supported the landing. We’ll give you a soft cast, a prescription for pain, and you’ll be good to go. Just be careful. Don’t do any pull-ups or handsprings. Give it about six weeks.”

Good news? Six weeks?
In that instant, Siena was reduced to her clumsy childhood persona, Siena-banana, a stupid name that stuck since third grade. Tears rolled down her cheeks and snot threatened her lip. She headed home, arm in a sling, desk contents in a plastic hospital bag, praying that Dana was out, as usual.

Before Siena could fumble the key in the lock,
the apartment door swung open and the Queen of Escape, her lovely, loving mother, stood there with open arms. “Baby, what happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m doing this for sympathy."

"Oh, Siena-banana –”

“Please Dana, just leave me alone right now.” Siena had called her mother by her first name since about the age of seven. It started as a challenge to authority, but when Dana didn’t object, it stuck. Now the daughter was slightly thirty and the mother remained . . . oh, about eighteen.

“You look… awful. Tell me everything. Can I get you a cup of tea?”

Siena nodded, thinking she’d rather have a glass of wine and her own private pity-party, but maybe Dana would give her the sympathy she needed right now. “I found out that my jackass fiancé has been banging the cute new receptionist. I quit my job, piled my shit in a box, slipped on the ice, and sprained my arm really bad. How’s your day?”

Dana took a shaky breath and turned away. “I've had a terrible day, too. It's awful. Just . . . so, so sad." She paused.

Siena waited for the drama that epitomized her mother.

Finally Dana said quickly, "Aunt Addie passed into her spiritual life this morning.” She gestured a 180 degree rainbow with her hand, then disappeared into the kitchen and began rattling teacups.

Siena felt stunned for a moment. When reality hit, the sting of tears burned her eyes and nose. She plopped down on the sofa and cried. “Aunt Addie? Oh no . . . she was . . . wonderful. I loved her for so many reasons.” This great
-aunt was the only relative Siena and her mother had, except for Dana's sister who went somewhere out West many years ago. They hadn't remained in touch. Aunt Addie was always there whenever they needed her. Sadness and circumstances overwhelmed her and there was nothing to do but let the tears flow.

Siena and Dana sat in morbid silence, sipping green apple tea, remembering the spunky eighty-six-year-old aunt and the influence she’d had on their lives. The first time Siena broke her arm, she was in Maine for Christmas with Great-Aunt Addie, while Dana was off
. . . God-knows-where. She had fallen while ice-skating on the lake with a bunch of local kids. And everybody ignored her except . . . a skinny boy named Zach.

Eventually Siena broke the silence. “So what are you going to do?"

Dana shrugged and wiped her nose with a wrinkled tissue.

"Are we going to Haven’s Point for the funeral? Are
you in charge of arrangements?”

“Oh no, baby . . . it’s a little complicated. She didn’t die in Maine. She’s in Florida with friends for the winter. Kay called me from Orlando. Her plan was for cremation. And a private party in Haven’s Point this summer, scattering the ashes on the bay, reading the will.”

"Party? That's weird."

"Knowing Aunt Addie, it isn't. It will be a celebration of her life.
Won't that be … lovely?"

Siena sipped her tea. “So what happens with her business? Her home and all that old stuff?”

“She has some fine antiques. She always said that you’d know what to do with them.”

"Me?" Siena set her cup down and adjusted the sling on her injured arm. Where was that bottle of painkillers
the doc ordered? “Right now, Dana, what I need is a job. But with this arm, about all I could do is work in Goldie’s Coffee Shop downstairs, mixing muffins with one hand at three in the morning. At least that would be fun.”

“Siena, this is surreal, all this happening on the day Aunt Addie passed. It's like everything was meant to happen this way, you know? And thank God you finally – finally - gave Warren the boot.”

“I hate hearing that 'meant to happen' crap. It only took me two seconds to decide, after I found out. It was Warren who shot our relationship all to hell."

"Well, that part was a good decision. Don't know about kicking the job."

"Hell Dana, I knew I couldn't walk past that bitch at the reception desk every day, knowing they were screwing all night."

"You think he's Mighty Man? Think again."

Siena ignored her mother's male-bashing sarcasm. "Now, I’m a single woman – out there – alone.”

Dana sat upright and propped one hand on her hip. “Like me, and a majority of American women, I might add.”

“You aren’t completely alone, Dana, you have . . . who is it now . . . uh, Chuck?” Siena fiddled with a strand of hair and stared across the room at nothing. Her mind wasn't on this conversation. She needed a job, and quickly. She'd deal with a broken heart later.

“Chaz,” Dana corrected. "His name is Chaz and he's just what I need right now in my life."

"Bravo." Siena sighed heavily. “So, we head up to Haven’s Point, close the place down and sell what we can. It won't take long.”

“Oh baby, there’s plenty of time for that. Later.”

“Why wait? I can’t get a job right now. The holidays are the worst time of year for hiring. Going up there will give my arm time to heal. Besides, it might be a nice refuge. I could use the time, to get my head straight about things. You too, I'm sure.” Siena loved the small coastal town of Haven’s Point, with its quirky residents and . . . Zach. True, she hadn't been back in years. Too busy with her own screwed-up life.

Zach had been her only friend in town and her first love. They were just teens
. . . she and Zach Cassidy . . . hunk, rebel, and excellent kisser.

Dana bustled around, gathering their teacups and taking them to the kitchen and calling over her shoulder, “I couldn’t possibly go now, so soon after Aunt Addie’s passing. My head's already straight. I know what I want.”

“What's wrong, Dana? Too much work and responsibility involved?”

"Baby." Dana used that I-know-everything tone of voice when, of course, she didn't. "T
hat old business of hers isn’t worth a dime. It can wait until summer. By then, I could go. Maybe.”

Siena gave her mother a long look, a chin-down, narrow-eyed cutting look that demanded more. "Dana
. . . "

“Look baby, I have this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fulfill my heart’s desire,” Dana implored. “Life is about joy and . . . and accepting those openings that come along.”

Siena just stared at Dana, waiting for the drama queen to continue.

Dana placed her palms together, thumbs to her heart, and bowed slightly in a grateful Zen pose.  “Chaz and I are taking a road trip - on his Harley! I can hardly wait!” She wiggled her butt like a puppy about to get a treat.

“You’re what? Seriously.” Siena deadpanned her mother.

“I’ve always wanted to go cross country. Key West. New Orleans. The Grand Canyon
, where you can go out on that Skywalk Bridge. Just imagine!” Dana spread her arms and twirled. “Las Vegas and San Francisco! I just can’t wait!”

“That’s the craziest damn idea I’ve ever heard. Do you know how dangerous motorcycles are? Going cross-country? Right now? It's freaking winter! That’s just plain nuts, Dana!” Siena had a momentary feeling of panic. She wanted to jump up and down, to scream at the top of her lungs, to grab her mother and shake some sense into her.

“We're going south first. It's warm down there, isn't it? This is important to me. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Here’s my chance.” Dana skipped to the door. “Gotta go now. I have an appointment with Darlene. Out with gray, in with red raspberry!”

“Have you lost it completely?
A little bit of gray is natural!”

“Uh-huh. Not for me. I've always wanted to be a redhead.” Dana came back and gave Siena a tight hug. “Love you, baby. Hope your arm heals fast. Whatever you do with her stuff is okay with me. Sell it all.” Dana waved and headed for the door, then stopped to look back. “I believe Kay said the mayor has the keys to Auntie’s place, in case you decide to go. I'll be in touch, baby. I'll tell you more later. It's a surprise.”

"Not another surprise." Siena stared at the door and wondered why she couldn’t just say a big fat, ‘No freakin’ way! I have a life.’ But she couldn’t. And didn’t. No fiancé. No job. No . . . real life. Dana knew all along that Siena would go to Maine and do the adult thing. And Siena should have known that her mother wouldn't.

*     *     *

She stood at the window and stared into the black night. Lights sparkled around the bay.  Thoughts swayed to Haven's Point and Zach. She wondered where he was, how he was doing, what he looked like now. Such sweet, sexy memories. Oh, she knew they were exaggerated by time and absence, but it was fun remembering how they were . . . so young and in love . . . claiming to trust each other forever.

He taught her to French kiss, and she read erotic poetry to him. Her cheeks burned at the memory. She remembered the sweet taste of his tongue on her lips, his force against her, their bodies joined. Amazing that she would remember what he felt like
. . . oh hell, he was the first. That’s why. It was all youthful emotion and lust.

She laughed at her musings. Zach probably wore overalls and rubber boots and became a lobsterman, like his father. And a drunk, too, like his father? Or maybe he had a wife and five kids. And the fantasy would dissolve. End of first-boyfriend dream.

Siena grabbed a pen. New list of goals: