An icon had passed.
He’d known from an early age the backbreaking work of plowing a field behind a horse named Moon.
Shortly before his sixteenth birthday, he left home, a few precious punts in his pocket.
He endured the Atlantic crossing with others looking for more in the cramped confines below decks.
And thought his life had truly begun.
So much color and noise and movement, so many people squashed into one place.
Not just an ocean away from the farm where he’d been born and reared, he thought.
And his world now.
He was bound to apprentice with his mother’s brother Michael Donahue as a butcher in the Meatpacking District.
He was welcomed, embraced, given a bed in a room he shared with two of his cousins.
Still, he dreamed of more.
There the sounds of bone saws, the thwack of cleavers didn’t exist.
Even pretty Mary faded away as he felt himself pulled into the screen and the world it offered.
The beautiful women, the heroic men, the drama, the joy.
He worked his way across the country, amazed at its size, at its changing sights and seasons.
Once he spent the night in jail after a bit of a dustup in a place called Wichita.
He lived on his wits, his voice, his strong back.
Talkies changed everything, so now soundstages needed building.
His face might not have appeared on the screen, but his voice held the audience.
It opened the door.
An extra, a walk-on, a bit part where he spoke his first line.
The studio fed the gossip columns stories of their romance, but none of the hype was necessary.
They married less than a year after they clapped eyes on each other.
They honeymooned in Ireland visiting his family, as well as hers in Mayo.
They built a grand glamour of a home in Beverly Hills, had a son, then a daughter.
The house they built facing the sea they named Sullivan’s Rest.
It became their getaway, then as years passed more their home.
As their daughter, Maureen, chose New York and Broadway.
That son would, in time, place another Sullivan star on the screen.
And gave Liam a great-granddaughter.
They named the fourth-generation Sullivan Caitlyn.
She delivered her lines in a west county accent as if she’d been born there.
The film, a critical and commercial success, would be Liam Sullivan’s last.
There were speeches and anecdotes, there were tears.
But there was music, laughter, children playing inside and out.
There was food and whiskey and wine.
There she could watch the children their young bones laughing at winter’s bite and the sea beyond.
She took her son’s hand when Hugh sat beside her.
As her husband’s had, her voice carried the lilt of her home.
How can I, when I feel it, too?"
Your sister would say we’re both crazy.
How did I ever produce such a practical-minded child as Maureen?"
She took the tea he offered her, winged up an eyebrow.
Is there whiskey in it?"
“I know my ma.”
“That you do, my boy, but you don’t know all.”
She sipped her tea, sighed.
Then studied her son’s face.
So like his father’s, she thought.
The damnably handsome Irish.
“I know how you grieved when you lost your Livvy.
So sudden, so cruel.
I see her in our Caitlyn, and in more than the looks.
I see it in her light, the joy and fierceness of her.
I’m sounding crazy again.
I see the same.
I hear her laugh, and hear Livvy laugh.
She’s a treasure to me.”
“I know it, and to me as she was to your da.
I’m glad, Hugh, you found Lily and, after those long years alone, found happiness.
“She is.”
“About what?”
“The rest of my time.
I love this house, she murmured.
I know it all in every light, in every season, in every mood.
“Do you want to sell it now?”
“I think no.
The memories there are dear as well.
You know we have the place in New York and that I’m giving it to Maureen.
I want to know if you’d want the house in L.A. or this one.
I want to know because I’m going to Ireland.”
“To visit?”
Wait, she said before he could speak.
And the family your father brought me is there as well.”
You have family here.”
God, but we’re far-flung, aren’t we, my darling?"
“It seems we are.”
“I hope all of them come to visit me.
But Ireland’s where I want to be now.
In the quiet and the green.”
She gave him a smile, with a twinkle in her eyes.
An old widow woman, baking brown bread and knitting shawls."
“You don’t know how to bake bread or knit anything.”
Now she slapped his hand.
I can learn, can’t I now, even at my advanced age.
Then he tapped a finger gently to her head.
Well, we had both.
And now I want to shed some of what we reaped.
I want that lovely cottage we bought in Mayo.
So which is it for you, Hugh?
Beverly Hills or Big Sur?"
When she smiled, he shook his head.
You knew before you asked."
“I know my boy even better than he knows his ma.
That’s settled then.
And I trust you to tend to it.”
“You know I will, but "
“None of that.
My mind’s made up.
I damn well expect I’ll have a place to lay my head when I come visit.
And I will come.
We had good years here, me and your da.
I want what came from us to have good years here as well.”
She patted his hand.
Look out there, Hugh.
She laughed as she saw Cate do a handspring.
While Cate did handsprings to entertain two of her younger cousins, her parents argued in their guest suite.
The raw energy pumping from her had once enthralled Aidan.
Now it just made him tired.
I want to get out of here, Aidan, for God’s sake.
And we will, tomorrow afternoon, as planned.”
She whirled on him, lips sulky, eyes sheened with angry tears.
The soft winter light spilled through the wide glass doors at her back and haloed around her.
“I’ve had enough, can’t you understand?
Can’t you see I’m on my last nerve?
Why the hell do we have to have an idiotic family brunch tomorrow?
How many more stories do I have to hear about the great Liam Sullivan?”
Now they both understood she just tolerated them.
Until she didn’t.
Weary to the bone, Aidan sat, gave himself a minute to stretch out his long legs.
He’d started to grow a beard for an upcoming role.
It itched and annoyed him.
He hated that, at the moment, he felt exactly the same about his wife.
The rough spots in their marriage had smoothed out recently.
Now it seemed they’d hit another bumpy patch.
“Your family’s swallowing me whole, Aidan.”
She did a heel turn, her hands flying out.
So much drama, he thought, over a few more hours.
We’ll be home this time tomorrow.
We still have guests, Charlotte.
We should be downstairs right now."
“Then let your grandmother deal with them.
Why can’t I take the plane and go home?”
For now, we’re a united front."
“If we had our own plane, I wouldn’t have to wait.”
He could feel the headache growing behind his eyes.
Do we really need to go there?
Nobody would miss me."
He tried another tack, smiled.
He knew, from experience, his wife reacted better to the sweet than the stern.
And on a sigh, she smiled back.
She had a smile, he thought, that just stopped a man’s heart.
I’m being such a pain in the ass."
“Yeah, but you’re my pain in the ass.”
On a quick laugh, she walked over, cuddled on his lap.
I’m sorry, baby.
You know I’ve never liked it up here.
It feels so isolated it makes me claustrophobic.
And I know that doesn’t make sense."
I get it, but we’ll be home tomorrow.
I need you to stick just one more night, for my grandmother, my dad.
After letting out a hiss, she poked his shoulder, then offered him her signature pout.
Full coral lips, sulky and soft crystal-blue eyes dramatically lashed.
I better get points.
“How about a long weekend in Cabo points?”
On a gasp, she grabbed his face with her hands.
I’ve got a couple weeks before I start production.
So saying, he rubbed a hand over his scruff.
Let’s say we hit the beach for a few days.
Cate’ll love it."
“She has school, Aidan.
We’ll take her tutor.”
“How about this?
Now she circled her arms around him, pressed her body, still in mourning black, against his.
Cate has a long weekend with Hugh and Lily, which she’d love.
And you and I have a few days in Cabo.
I’d love some just us, baby.
Don’t you think we need some just us?”
She was probably right the smooth patches needed tending as much as the rough.
While he hated leaving Cate, she was probably right.
I can make that work."
I’m going to text Grant, see if he can do some extra sessions this week.
I want a perfect bikini body."
“You already have one.”
“That’s my sweet husband talking.
We’ll see what my hard-assed personal trainer says.
I need to shop.”
“Right now we have to get back downstairs.”
The flicker of annoyance marred her face before she smoothed it away.
You’re right, but give me a couple minutes to fix my face."
“Your face is gorgeous, as always.”
She pointed at him as she started toward her makeup counter.
A few days away, well, that’ll be good for us.
I’ll be right down.
Always a favorite when the family gathered, the game had its rules, restrictions, and bonus points.
In this case, the rules included outdoors only as several of the adults had decreed no running inside.
The It got a point for every hider found, with the first found designated as the next It.
If a hider went three rounds without being found, that meant ten bonus points.
And since Cate had been planning this game all day, she knew how to win them.
She darted off when Boyd, age eleven, started the countdown as the first It.
He didn’t know the grounds like she did.
Plus, she had a fresh hiding place already picked out.
Boyd would find Ava in two minutes.
She nearly backtracked to show Ava a better spot, but it was every kid for herself!
Most of the guests had gone, and more were taking their leave.
Remembering why, she felt a pang.
She’d loved her great-grandda.
He’d always had a story to tell, and lemon drops in his pocket.
She’d cried and cried when her daddy told her Grandda had gone to heaven.
He’d cried, too, even when he told her Grandda had had a long, happy life.
How he’d meant so much to so many, and would never be forgotten.
She remembered lemon drops and hugs as she scurried to the garage, and around the side.
She could still hear voices, from the patios and terraces, the walled garden.
Nobody would find her!
Her hair Celtic black flew behind her as she ran.
He wore sunglasses that shot the light back at her.
She grinned, put a finger to her lips.
Hide-and-seek, she told him.
He nodded, then moved forward as if to give her one.
Then her eyes rolled back, and she felt nothing at all.
He had the gag on, zip ties on her wrists and ankles in seconds.
Just a precaution, as the dose should keep her out for a couple hours.
He pushed it up the ramp, shut the cargo doors.
At the security gates, he entered the code with a gloved finger.
When the gates opened, he drove through, made his turn, then hit Highway 1.
He resisted pulling off the wig, and the fake beard.
Not yet, and he could handle the annoyance of them.
Everything had gone smooth as silk.
He caught sight of his partner pacing on the second-story deck of the cabin and rolled his eyes.
Talk about an asshole.
They had this knocked, for Christ’s sake.
They’d keep the kid sedated, but wear masks just in case.
He pulled the van around the side of the cabin.
By the time he hopped out, his partner had run down to meet him.
Have you got her?"
Nothing to it."
“Are you sure nobody saw you?
Are you sure
“Jesus, Denby, chill.”
We can’t risk her hearing our names.”
“She’s out.
Let’s get her upstairs, locked in so I can get this crap off my face.
I want a beer.”
Look, you’re not a fucking doctor.
We can’t be a hundred percent she’s still out."
“Fine, fine, go get yours.
I’ll stick with this.
He patted the beard.
Out, he thought, as in o-u-t.
If she wakes up before we get her inside, she’ll probably faint from fright.
We want her scared, don’t we, so she’ll cooperate.
The little spoiled rich bitch.”
“That’d do the trick.
You’re no Tim Curry, but that’d do the trick.
He slung Cate over his shoulder.
Everything ready up there?
The windows are locked down.
Denby jumped as The Mexican Hat Dance played from the phone clipped to his partner’s belt.
“Goddamn it, Grant!”
Grant Sparks only laughed.
Used my name, nimrod.
He carted Cate up the stairs to the second floor, open to the first with its cathedral ceiling.
That’s a text from my sugar.
You gotta chill, man.”
He carried Cate into the bedroom they’d selected because it faced the back and had its own bathroom.
If she made one, they’d wash the sheets.
She’d be too drugged up for that, but why take chances?
When they left, the house would be exactly as they’d found it.
No one would know they’d ever been inside.
“You took out all the lightbulbs?
“Every one.”
Keep her in the dark.
Go ahead and clip those ties, take off the gag.
If she wakes up, has to piss, I don’t want her doing it in the bed.
She can beat on the door, scream her head off.
Won’t make a diff.”
“How long do you figure she’ll be under?”
“A couple hours.
“When are you going out to call?”
Hell, they’re not even looking for her yet.
She was playing fucking hide-and-seek, as advertised, and headed straight for the grab spot.”
He gave Denby a slap on the back.
Finish up, make damn sure you lock the door.
I’m getting this crap off my face.
I’m going for a beer."
From HIDEAWAY, by Nora Roberts.
Copyright 2020 by the author, reprinted with permission of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.
Unlock Access to AARP Members Edition
Already a Member?Login
