Only some of them laughed.
“He won’t,” Molly mouthed back, turning to Shane. “Anyway, Cilla was a better bet than Marie Boswell. Good heavens, Shane. She’s older than Dad.”
“But she loves dogs more than life,” he shot back. “He needs that.”
“I’m still pulling for Linda May,” Andi joined in. “My office is right above her bakery, and I’m telling you, I’d see him in there four times a week before I went on maternity leave. And I happen to know she’d be happy to give him her croissant recipe anytime.”
That got a few laughs, and groans.
“My money’s on Bella Peterson,” Garrett said. “Who better to lure the Dogfather than a cat lady?”
At her end of the table, Gramma Finnie huffed out a noisy breath and adjusted her bifocals to scan the table with wise blue eyes. “If any of you lassies or lads think there’s another woman in my son’s future other than the wee one in his arms, you’ll be sorely mistaken.” Her Irish brogue thickened as she dipped her head to continue. “‘Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, and love leaves a memory no one can steal.’”
“You’re so right, Gramma Finnie.” Pru, Molly’s teenage daughter, and Gramma’s closest companion, nodded heartily. “It’s only been four years since Grannie Annie passed, and you all need to stop trying to fix him up.”
“Anyway, he’s not done with us,” Shane said, pointing at Darcy. “Tick tock, li’l sis.”
The clock was ticking all right, but not for that. “Sometimes it’s like no one in this family thinks about anything but love. There are other ways to find happiness, you know.”
“Name one,” Garrett cracked, making the many newlyweds or nearlyweds lift their glasses in a toast of solidarity and agreement.
Darcy rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder she didn’t injure herself. “A person can be entirely happy on their own, you guys. A woman isn’t incomplete without a man. A human isn’t unfinished without a partner. Not every creature mates for life, I’ll have you know.”
Every person at the table stilled as she ended her little speech, making for a long, awkward beat. Probably because at least ten of them wildly disagreed with her, and anything that even had a whiff of an argument was forbidden at Sunday dinners.
Darcy felt some heat on her cheeks, so she picked up the dregs of a Bloody Mary she’d been nursing all day and knocked it back, then set it on the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse the birthday girl, I have some business to discuss with Dad.”
“Business?” At least two of her brothers choked softly on the word.
And that, right there, was the problem. The “business” of running the largest canine rescue and training facility was their job, and Molly’s, as the head vet. Darcy was “just the groomer,” and that, among other things, was about to change.
“You’ll be ready when your time comes, lass,” Gramma mused, watching her closely and probably thinking Darcy’s thoughts were all about love. She couldn’t be more wrong. The last thing a woman champing at the bit for financial, emotional, and psychological freedom wanted was a man who’d take it all away.
“What I’m ready for is a life of, for, and on my own,” she said carefully. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to talk to Dad to get that started.”
“You go, girl,” Ella said with a raised glass.
Around the table, they all looked like they knew exactly what was going on with Darcy—that their flighty little sister was about to take off for parts unknown again. They couldn’t be more wrong.
Darcy snapped her fingers twice, and a flash of white fuzz shot out from under the table. “Look sharp, Kookie.” Darcy reached down to straighten her baby girl’s bow. “We are on a mission.”
“A mission for what?” Shane asked.
“To do what everyone does on a birthday,” she said. “Grow up.”
Without waiting one more second, Darcy headed toward the formal living room, a space rarely used by the big family except at Christmas, when it became Holiday Central. But lately, it had become one of Dad’s favorite places to have quiet time with the new baby.
Tapping on the doorjamb of the arched entry, she asked, “Can I talk to you, Dad?”
“Come on in, sweetheart. I was telling Fiona about her Grannie Annie.” He looked up from the chair next to the fireplace, a sadness in his eyes that made Darcy want to run back into that dining room and tell all her siblings to lay off the dating game and get out of Dad’s business. The man was still in mourning, no matter how wonderfully he held it together.
She leaned over the baby in his arms, reaching down to stroke Fiona’s tiny, dark-tufted head. “She looks like Liam with all that dark hair.”
“She looks like every one of you,” Dad replied. “Even you and Aidan had dark hair at first.”
Darcy smiled and perched on the edge of the sofa, and immediately Kookie flew up and curled into a ball next to her, almost as if she sensed how much her mistress needed a wingman right now.
“Dad, can I talk to you about something serious?”
His raised-brow response was no surprise. Darcy didn’t do serious. Her role was the “fun” child who flitted about continents and made everyone laugh.
“Talk to me about anything,” Dad said, splitting his attention between the baby in his arms and Darcy as she settled onto the couch. “But if you want me to go out with Bella Peterson, Linda May Dunlap, Marie Boswell, or Cilla Forsythe, don’t waste your time.”
She drew back. “You know about that?”
He chuckled and addressed his response to the baby, who had fallen back to sleep in his arms. “They think I’m deaf, dumb, and blind to their shenanigans.”
Darcy gave a quick laugh. “You should talk, Dogfather. You’re the king matchmaker around here. You think I don’t know why you sent me on that errand to your accountant’s office last week?”
“You think I was trying to set you up with Eugene McMasters? He’s fifty-five and happily married.”
“No, I think you knew full well that Mr. McMaster’s somewhat attractive and recent-Yale-graduate son would be in the office.”
His innocent look was almost believable. Almost. “Oh, honey, that Jeremy’s a nice kid, but you…him…” He shook his head. “Not a chance.”
Right. “And that new mechanic who recently opened up in town that you thought was the only guy who could work on my hybrid car?”
“You thought…that guy…” He chuckled. “I guess I do have a well-deserved reputation, but it never occurred to me he could be anything but someone to check that engine light.”
“Well, good, because he’s not my type.”
“Now you know how I feel when they fling Cilla and Marie and Linda May at me.”
“Apparently, misery loves company.”
His smile faded. “Your brothers and sister are not miserable,” he corrected. “I’ve never seen any of them this happy.”
“And they think I’m next.”
“You’re just a kid.”
And that was the heart of this problem. “A kid who turned thirty.”
“Yeah. But to me, you’re a kid. And the last one, to boot. Why?” He suddenly looked a little horrified. “Are you asking me to find you someone?”
“God, no,” she exclaimed. “I can do my own work.” She narrowed her eyes to add, “I’m a grown woman.”
Dad regarded her with a steady gaze, with maybe a little fear darkening his eyes as he waited for more. “I’m painfully aware of that,” he admitted softly.
“And I’d like to start my own business.”
He blinked at her. “You would?”
“In fact, I’ve already applied for a business license at town hall.”
“You…have? What about the grooming work you do here?”
She nodded, expecting that pushback. “You know as well as I do that trimming and clipping the dogs on-site isn’t a big moneymaker. I can do more, but not here. Not at Waterford when the clients’ dogs come before my own.??
?
“This business isn’t just about money,” he interjected. “You know we started it to honor your mother’s legacy and love of fostering dogs and to give everyone in the family a role.”
“And mine’s grooming, which I love, but I’d like to break out and do it on my own.”
He let out a slow exhale that sounded nothing but sad. “You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question.
“Not Bitter Bark,” she answered quickly. “I’m renting Cilla Forsythe’s space in town and turning it into a grooming salon. I’m thinking about calling it The Dog Spaw.” She added a smile. “Get it? Spa with a w?”
But he didn’t smile back. “So, this is a done deal?”
She swallowed. “I signed the lease last week, but I can’t open until I do some minor construction in there. But think about it, Dad. That space is next door to Bone Appetit,” she said, referring to Ella and Aunt Colleen’s recently opened canine treat and supply shop. “Thanks to Chloe turning Bitter Bark into the dog-friendliest town in North Carolina, I’d be successful in no time.”
He considered that, and she knew he couldn’t argue. “Can you afford the construction?”
Barely. Especially since this was only half her plan. “You might have noticed I haven’t taken a trip for over a year. I’ve been saving.”
“Because if you need an investment, we can work something out.”
She smiled, expecting that, too. “Thanks. I’m okay for now, but it will be a stretch because…” She took a deep inhale, ready to drop bomb number two. “I also want to move out into my own place.”
His gaze barely flickered, but it was enough to see the words hit hard. “Don’t tell me you’ve signed a lease for that, too.”
“No,” she said on a laugh. “One lease at a time, but I would like to start looking.”
His sizable shoulders dropped, and he looked down at the sleeping baby for the first time since they’d started talking “Well. This is a big day for you.”
She tamped down the urge to do whatever she could to ease his disappointment. That was how she’d ended up living at home for the four years since Mom died.
“I want to live on my own, Dad.”
He moved the baby a bit, shifting her with the ease of a man who’d handled, well, six of them. “Of course you do, but…”
“Please.” She reached out and put her hand on his arm. “I can’t be your baby forever. You have Fiona now, and Christian. It’s only a matter of time until the rest of your matchmaking efforts pay off in oodles of grandchildren. I’m ready to move out and move on.”
For a long time, he said nothing, but then sighed slowly. “You’re ready, but I’m…” He didn’t have to finish the sentence. She knew he wasn’t ready.
“Dad, I moved back to Waterford Farm after Mom died because I didn’t want you and Gramma Finnie to be alone without her. It made sense at the time because Molly and Pru needed their own house, and the boys certainly weren’t going to live here. I was twenty-six, and it was fine. But it’s not fine anymore.”
“You come and go as you please, Darcy. No one is watching you, if it’s freedom you need. And with the money you save, you get to do the one thing you love most—travel.”
She sighed, seeking the words to make him understand and not hurt him. If it were Mom sitting in that seat, she wouldn’t have to search for words. They’d spoken in a secret, silent language exactly like she did today with Ella. She and Annie Kilcannon had been connected in a way that was different than any other kid in the family, which made sense, since Darcy was the youngest.
But Mom had never babied her. She’d never treated Darcy like she was incapable of anything, and that sense of independence that Mom had fostered seemed to be melting as fast as those birthday candles. She had to get it back.
“Dad, the reason I love to travel isn’t just for the thrill of adventure, you know.”
“It’s to get away from us?” he guessed.
“No.” Not exactly. “You know I love this family and this house and Waterford Farm more than anything, anywhere. But when I leave, I can make my own decisions and live my life without all my older siblings who know so much more than I do. I can make my own mistakes without my father and grandmother offering guidance.” At his look, she squeezed his hand. “I love that guidance,” she assured him. “And I don’t want it to stop, ever. I just…” She sighed. “I have to grow up, Dad. I need to be living and working on my own.”
He searched her face, taking it all in. “That’s what your mother wanted.”
She almost fell back on her chair with relief that he did get it. “Yes, it was. We had many talks about it. She wanted me, and Molly, to grow up as strong, independent women.”
“You are,” he insisted.
“I can be,” she corrected.
For a long time, he didn’t say a word, but his wheels were spinning, she knew. No doubt it was about the business as much as the living situation.
“I can keep grooming at Waterford two days a week indefinitely,” she said, already willing to work seven days a week if she had to. “Molly is in town part of the time at the other vet office, and it would be the same for me. I’ll train some groomers so someone is always here, and I’ll be on site whenever you need me. But, Dad, I have to be the woman Mom wanted me to be. And I don’t think that was living upstairs at thirty or turning down the chance to start my own business.”
“Oh, Darcy, you already are the woman she wanted you to be.” He leaned forward, forgetting the baby as he focused on her. “Your heart is so good and your joy is so constant. You’re the brightest light in this family, and you always will be. When you’re not here, it’s like someone switched off the power supply in this house.”
She melted on a sigh. “Thanks, but I need to supply the power to my own life now.”
“I know that…but…” He shook his head, words failing.
“What is it?”
“Once you leave, little Darcy, it’s all over,” he whispered. “Yes, I have this granddaughter and our great business, but the last Kilcannon leaving the nest is…hard.”
She felt her eyes well. “Dad, I’m sorry—”
“No, I’m sorry to be a sentimental old man.”
“It’s not over,” she assured him. “We all work here. There’s a Kilcannon kid, spouse, or offspring in this beautiful old house seven days a week and twice on Sundays—literally, for a weekly dinner we’d all die before we missed.”
He chuckled at that, and the sound made the baby stir, pulling his attention back to her. He stroked her little cheek, quiet for a long time.
Finally, his gaze slid to the wall covered with family portraits and pictures, settling on the young woman in a 1970s version of the same wedding dress Andi had worn to marry Liam. “I think your mother would love this new life plan of yours and support it.”
“Yes, she would. But do you?” She wanted his blessing. That didn’t make her a baby—it made her a Kilcannon.
“Yes,” he said simply. “And I’ll help you any way I can. In fact, if you need a construction guy, I have the perfect—”
“Dad.” She glared at him.
“What?”
“I was born thirty years ago, not yesterday,” she chided. “Do not set me up with anyone. Ever. The very last thing I want infringing on my independence is a man.”
“I wasn’t…” He shook his head, giving up the argument. “But as far as living in town? I want you somewhere safe, and you can’t tell me that’s wrong.”
“Bitter Bark is safe, Dad.”
“Still…” He repositioned Fiona to safely hand her off. “Hold her for a second. I have an idea.”
Darcy took the tiny bundle, making Kookie sit straight up and stare with unabashed jealousy. “Don’t worry, Kooks. You’re still my baby, but this is my niece.”
Fiona’s long lashes fluttered, and a whimper escaped her little rosebud mouth. “Oh, sweet thing. I love you,” Darcy cooed. After a second of staring at her, she looked u
p and found her father looking at her the same way she was looking at the baby.
“What?” she asked on a laugh.
“Are you sure you want to live alone, Darcy? Couldn’t you and Ella get a place together?”
“Ella’s signed a year-long lease on her house, and I need to be alone. How will I ever grow up if I don’t stand on my own two feet, personally and professionally?”
“There’s a big difference between independence and loneliness.”
“I’m not going to be lonely,” she said. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t date a guy, just not one that you picked out for me.”
He snorted softly, looking down at the phone he’d pulled out, skimming the screen with his index finger. “Oh, here it is. A beautiful, renovated brownstone in Ambrose Acres.”
Darcy’s eyes widened at the mention of the tony section south of Bushrod Square. “Ambrose Acres might be out of my price range.”
“Maybe not. The owner came in to present to the Gentrification Committee the other day, and he needs to have another tenant within thirty days to qualify for a permit to renovate the next unit. If the right person comes along who can move in immediately, then you can probably negotiate a very reasonable rent.”
“A brownstone would be cool,” Darcy said, standing up and rocking the baby a little with excitement at the idea. “And I love all those Victorians in that section, with the courtyards in the back and fabulous curved windows.”
“Good man, too. Worked by the rules, which you can’t say for every contractor. He’d want a solid referral.” He tapped the phone screen, texting.
“Pretty sure you could give me that referral, right?” she asked. “I’ve been a model tenant in this house.”
He looked up from his phone, no humor in his eyes. Just the opposite, in fact. “I’ve loved every minute you’ve lived here, sweetheart. From the day we brought you home from the hospital and decided you were the prettiest of them all.” His voice grew thick with emotion. “It’ll be tough to let you leave.”