Right?
Hell. He was doing his best. A lot of things had changed, him most of all, but a man still took care of his family, didn’t he? It was how he was raised. His parents had a wonderful marriage; a true loving partnership. His father made most of the big decisions, and they never doubted that he had done so for the good of the family. Though, now that he thought about it, his father had never done so without discussing it with his wife first. Clearly, Liam Callaghan had been a smarter man than he.
A noise from the back drew his attention. He listened carefully as the sound grew louder, finally recognizing Kathleen’s footfalls as she made her way down the wooden steps. Was she coming to accept his apology? Or perhaps to say that after further thought, she could see the potential and the opportunity of this place?
The door to the kitchen creaked loudly, signaling her arrival on the first floor. Jack sat up straighter and waited patiently. She appeared in the doorway, looking both ridiculous and adorable in a pair of his jeans and an old flannel shirt that had seen better days. Only then did he realize he’d forgotten to grab her luggage from their car before fleeing the reception. He’d been so anxious to get her upstairs last night, and so busy defending his decision this morning, it hadn’t even crossed his mind.
Her face was paler than it had been, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed from crying. Jack forgot all about who was right and who was wrong; he cared only to see her smile again. He went to her, wanting to crush her into his chest and make everything better, but she wrapped her arms around her body and took a step back in a clear message.
She hadn’t completely forgiven him. His hands fell downward; he tucked them into his pockets. “I’m sorry, Kathleen.”
“I’m sorry, too, Jack.” Still hugging herself, she took a few tentative steps past him into the bar room and stopped, looking around. Her lips pressed together, turning slightly downward at the corners, her expression grim. He knew what she saw—– the same shite condition of the place that he’d seen when Danny Finnegan first proposed the idea. Except it looked even worse now in the stark light of day.
“Maybe you can get the money back,” she suggested quietly. “Tell him you changed your mind.”
“But I haven’t changed my mind, Kathleen. I know it doesn’t look like much right now, but it will.”
She shook her head, the sadness in her eyes like a knife to his chest. “I don’t want this, Jack.”
Jack flinched as if slapped. With only a few words, she had managed to completely destroy the little bit of hope he’d been clinging on to. “What do you want, Kathleen?” he snapped. “Do you want to be married to a bartender for the rest of your life? No, wait. I wouldn’t even have that, because this place was going to be closed down.”
Her eyes widened, but she refused to back down. “You could do something else.”
“Like what? Work in the mill? The hardware store? Or maybe your father would be willing to hire me as a dishwasher?”
Kathleen winced. “There must be something you can do. Didn’t they give you some kind of job training in the service?”
Jack barked out a laugh. “Yeah, they sure did. They trained me to kill, Kathleen. A thousand different ways to end another man’s life. And I learned to do it well. Most of them never even saw it coming. How’s that for a marketable job skill?”
Her lip was trembling again. “Stop it, Jack.”
He exhaled heavily, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s the truth, Kathleen. Not speaking of it doesn’t make it go away, no matter how much I wish otherwise.”
His words hung heavily in the air. Was she only just realizing what she had bound herself to? Or did she still hold to some ridiculous romanticized ideal of a war hero? There was no honor in the war he’d fought, except in the hearts of the men who believed they were doing the right thing.
“What about starting a family?” she said finally, her hand reflexively moving down to span her belly. “Do you really think this is the place to raise children?”
“It could be,” he said, his gaze following the movement. A family, yes. He wanted a big family. Lots of kids filling their lives with joy and laughter. Braw, strapping lads and beautiful lasses that had their mother’s hair and emerald eyes. With any luck, they’d planted the seeds of that dream last night.
“There’s plenty of room on the upper floors, and the kitchen is big enough for an army. It will be a respectable place, too, once we clean it up. A nice place.”
For a moment he thought he saw it—– the light of possibility shining in her expression—– but it was fleeting, gone before he could be certain. She shook her head again and bit her bottom lip. “Is this what our marriage is going to be like? You make the decisions and I’m simply expected to follow along blindly?”