The Rightful Heir
Chapter One
Oliver O'Toole cherished Shane McInerney O'Toole and she cherished him. They married, enjoyed a fabulous honeymoon, and returned to build a life together. And the life they were building together was beautiful and good.
They were thoughtful of each other. They paid attention to the details. This thoughtfulness was exhibited in myriad small ways. One gesture revolved around their choice of beverage. Oliver always had an empty mug along with a napkin, spoon, and the sugar bowl by the coffee maker waiting for Shane when she entered the kitchen in the morning. She made certain there were Yoo-hoo's in the house, the office, and even at Ramon's new bistro. Moreover, she never teased this man of letters about his odd habit. These are not matters of great consequence in and of themselves; however, the whole is always greater than the sum of its parts.
They did not take each other for granted. They frequently left each other little notes – even when they could have communicated face to face. Handwritten words were important to Oliver so they were important to Shane. Messages she could have sent by phone she wrote on post-its, backs of used envelopes, and for special occasions on English stationary. "Remember I'm having lunch Saturday with Rita. But I will still be thinking of you," read the yellow sticky note left on the bathroom mirror. Then there was the note Shane found on her dresser: "Your words of encouragement were a salve to my heart this morning. Thank you for remembering that this is a hard day for me. I can't wait to see you. I won't be late after choir." Oliver's preference was linen stationary. This particular note was written on ecru cardstock with his initials embossed in the lower right hand corner.
While public displays of affection were not a part of Oliver's nature, neither of them took for granted the intimacy they shared. Being married certainly didn't lessen the light in Oliver's eyes when Shane walked into a room. The man that she once called a human antique was a very demonstrative husband. In ways obvious to lovers and in ways more subtle they each demonstrated their affection. Shane wasn't sure if Oliver was aware of the fact that he would rub her arm after he helped her put on her coat. If they were sitting beside each other she would subconsciously lean in his direction. Before going to sleep he stroked her hair as if to say without words "I adore you." If she woke in the night she would carefully find his leg with her foot – just to know that even in the dark he was present. Shane also knew why one kiss from Oliver could make you change your mind – or at least forget where you were. Together they could become breathless and transported but always safe.
Significantly they remembered what mattered most – faith. They supported each other in nurturing and exercising this centrality of their marriage. They held hands to pray together at breakfast. They worshiped together on Sunday. Respected and encouraged the other in individual daily devotions. Discussions on the interplay of faith and their daily walk were becoming a natural part of their routine as asking about the weather. It was definitely woven into the tapestry of their lives. Faith was the basis of their moral certitude.
But some habits and traditions brought into a marriage can cause strife and conflict – even between two good people. The area of most contention for the O'Tooles was the house – at least in Shane's mind Oliver's inordinate care and affection for the house – to Oliver it was Shane's lack of appreciation for its legacy. When Shane first moved into the house Oliver grimaced if she wanted to move even a single picture frame from one side of a table to the other.
"It's just that the sunlight from the window might fade the photograph should one turn it askew."
"Askew, really? Fine. Leave it where it was."
Several months later their most heated argument ended with Oliver's mastery of language and quick mind not serving him well and Shane's ability to strike a direct verbal blow causing for a cooling-off and even more fervent apologies.
Oliver came home from spending the Saturday morning with his dad to find Shane painting the downstairs powder room.
"What the Sam Hill."
"Don't you like it? We agreed to painting the room."
"We never said anything about changing the color or leaving coffee cups sitting in the floor while one does so," Oliver says while reaching down to pick up Shane's cup.
"You mean changing from white to beige? I don't know what I was thinking."
Just then she swung her arms wide much like a day in DLO long ago that resulted in a wedding band flying across the room. This time instead of a wedding band she hit the coffee cup in Oliver's hand splattering coffee on everything within three feet.
"It is clear to me that your lax care for this house and its contents reflects your lack of appreciation for the legacy to which they belong," said Oliver.
"Honestly my lax care, you mean the fact that I'm not obsessed with coasters! Excuse me, I thought this was our home, not a museum filled with antiquities," Shane shot back. "I am not your curator. I am your wife."
And there it was. Shane picked up her handbag and her laptop and stormed out the door. Oliver stood frozen among his antiques and collectables.
It was not their best moment. Truthfully it was both of them at their worst and weakest.
Three hours later Oliver heard the back door open and the familiar sound of her keys being placed on the kitchen counter. Shane turned and looked on the table and found one dozen yellow roses. The note read simply, "For my wife, my love." Shane kicked off her heals and literally ran through the house calling for him, longing for his warm embrace, and yearning to make her own apologies.
"Oliver! Oliver! I'm so sorry."
"No, I am sorry. What I said was uncalled for."
"I don't want you to ever think that what is important to you is not important to me."
"I know. I know."
Forgiveness coupled with physical intimacy goes a long way in making life better on a Saturday afternoon. It can also result in pregnancy. While that result was most celebrated a repeat performance of the argument and the issue that was the basis for the fight were most unwanted.
Compromise and communication became the key. Oliver said what should have been said all along and did pretty much what needed to be done to make this house a home for both of them. Moving an end table, replacing a lamp, hanging a new picture were not acts of betrayal. At the same time Shane was determined to try to see the house more through Oliver's eyes. She learned which pieces actually came from his family and the stories behind them. She found out about things he had purchased that matched items from old photos of the house. Nevertheless Shane was still concerned about Oliver's attachment to the house. The more she learned in some ways the more bothered she became.
Shane knew that Oliver's attachment to the house was not based on its market value although that was considerable. Oliver was not materialistic. He practically gave away an inherited fortune by placing it in a charitable trust. She knew he loved the fact that generations of O'Tooles lived there and now so did they. But there still seemed to be another piece to this puzzle that his wife was yet to uncover.
With time and Oliver's blessing Shane eventually brought more of her own style to various rooms in the house. However, with very few exceptions the master bedroom that Shane discovered on her first visit to the O'Toole ancestral home remained the same. At least it remained the same until the fifth month of her pregnancy. Then it was Oliver who made a few minor changes.
Oliver insisted on some tiny additions to the room. The additions were night-lights and a stepladder for the bed. He proudly walked into the kitchen one Saturday with his purchases.
"Did you and your dad and Bill have a good time?" asked Shane.
"Yes, we sold all of the blankets that Bill wove for the winter market as well as getting a good price for the table that Dad and I built. I am proud to announce that the children's home is several hundred dollars richer," said Oliver.
"That's wonderful! Ardis will be excited about those blankets. Did you get lunch?"
"Oh yes. Dad and Bill discussed spring planting," chuckled Oliver. "Afterward uh, I went shopping."
"Um, Oliver O'Toole shopping?"
"I purchased a dozen nightlights and I found this wonderful piece that complements our bed," said Oliver, setting his purchases in the middle of the kitchen floor.
"And why do we need nightlights and - and a bedside - step stool?" questioned Shane.
"I thought we might like a couple of the tiny lights in our bedroom, and maybe in the bathroom, and down the hallway into the kitchen," said Oliver. "See. They cut themselves off and on based on the light in the room. Is that not technologically advanced!"
"And why would we light up our home like an airport runway?"
"Safety," said Oliver. "I read it in one of those online sites you peruse. I clicked and there it was. It's really amazing you know," said Oliver trying to move the topic along.
The puzzled and doubting expression on Shane's face cued Oliver that the hearer was not convinced.
"Do you have any idea how many accidents occur when people meander through their home in the dark? And this bedside step stool will match our bed perfectly. Aren't we fortunate that I found it? You can just step right up. No more hopping, jumping, just stepping."
"Oliver, I'm pregnant. I'm not clumsy. I'm not an invalid. Honestly, I think you would wrap me in bubble wrap. I can certainly still get in the…"
At this point Shane turned and tripped over the steps Oliver had just purchased. Oliver dived to catch her. He was successfully chivalrous in his attempt except for the pitcher of water in Shane's hand that soaked them both. Steadying his pregnant wife and making certain that she was fine much laughter ensued. After Oliver mopped the floor the very protective father-to-be busied himself plugging nightlights (almost enough for an airport runway) and securing the ladder beside their antique bed. His protective nature was not to be thwarted.
While Shane thought it all unnecessary she loved him for caring and went along with what she referred to as their new runway décor.
By the time Shane neared the seventh month of pregnancy Oliver maintained almost a full tank of gas in the car at all times, kept a set of his clothes on a hanger at the front of his closet (ready to dress for the hospital at a moment's notice), and hung an extra car key on a nail driven into the closet door just as a precaution. He said he was merely being practical. He insisted that she have an overnight bag of her things packed and kept by the door of their bedroom. He was at her beckon call. He even carried his own cell phone. The phone had a grand total of four contacts: Shane, his dad, Norman, and the hospital.
It was now a bitter cold early March evening. Oliver had a fire going in the fireplace in the front room. He and Shane ate dinner and cleaned the kitchen. With the few responsibilities that belonged to Sunday completed, he moved to the crackling comfort of the fire and sat on the couch reading. Shane dressed for bed and joined him - curling up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder, her feet on the sofa.
"How's the book?"
"Extremely informative," said Oliver, continuing to read.
"Are you learning something new?" asked Shane.
"Yes," replied the still engaged reader.
"How many more books on babies are you going read?" asked Shane.
"You are not going to allow me to read tonight are you?" said Oliver with a grin.
In the soon-to-be-a-dad's hands was a copy of The Baby's First Year. A basket on the floor by the sofa held the contents of Oliver's recent bibliography: What to Expect the First Year, Heading Home with Your Newborn, Childbirth: A Guide to Understanding from Labor to Delivery, Caring for Your Baby and Young Child, and Goodnight Moon; all of which Oliver had completed from dust jacket to dust jacket.
"No," said Shane biting her bottom lip. "The crib looks great. You did a good job putting it together."
"It was not difficult as long as one did not read the instructions," said Oliver with a proud smile and a raised eyebrow.
"I'm glad that our bedroom is big. I don't think it's too crowded with the crib and the new rocker. Do you?" said Shane.
"It is fine," said Oliver, lovingly slipping one arm around her shoulders and resting one hand where she carried his unborn child.
His wife responds snuggling all the closer.
"It's just you worked so hard on the nursery: painting, hanging curtains, carrying the rocker upstairs, then bringing it back downstairs. You even had the room rewired and monitors installed. You aren't too disappointed are you?"
"I am in no way disappointed. I concur with your assessment. When the baby is older we can move her…"
"Or him."
"Or him upstairs. Besides, I prefer you not dash up and down stairs to care for this little one when I go back to work," he said, kissing Shane on the forehead.
"Well I am either giving birth to a soccer player or a dancer, this little one likes to kick," said Shane, shifting to become more comfortable. "Oh, I almost forgot. The realtor called. Raj moved out last week and she wants to know if we want to rent again or list it."
"I say we think about that tomorrow. I am putting this book in the basket and walking my wife to bed. I have it on good authority that we both should sleep while we can," said Oliver.
"Oh did the book tell you that?" asked Shane.
"No, my dad did." Oliver replied with a smile, helping Shane rise from the couch.
The two walk arm in arm to the master bedroom that is home to a refinished antique rocking chair and a new crib. There is something stable and reassuring in the routines they have developed as a married couple: Shane dressing for bed first; Oliver sliding in bed beside her; Shane always saying "I love you" and Oliver replying "good night my love" and stroking her hair before falling asleep.
Tonight they feel a particular closeness as they slip into each other's arms.