Everyone was gathered, waiting to greet him, faces pressed to the kitchen window.
“Why is everyone in the kitchen?” Pale and shaking, his grandfather struggled to undo his seat belt. “Don’t they have work to do?”
“They wanted to welcome you home. Élise and Mom have been cooking. Wait there—I’ll help you out of the car.”
“I’m not an invalid! I’m capable of getting myself out of a car.”
As his grandfather faltered in the doorway, Sean took his arm. “Let’s get you inside so you can sit down, Gramps.”
His grandfather shook him off. “I don’t need to sit down and I can walk perfectly well. I don’t need babying. And I don’t need a doctor, either, so you can go back to the city now.”
Sean held his temper. He didn’t know whether to be relieved his grandfather sounded so much like himself, or concerned that he was getting upset when he’d promised himself he was going to stay calm.
“Walter O’Neil, that is no way to speak to your grandson!” His grandmother was by his side, coaxing him into his chair at the head of the table while Maple, Jackson’s miniature poodle, sprang up and down with excitement. “He isn’t a taxi service and he isn’t going anywhere until you’re well enough to be left.”
“Well enough to be left? Of course I’m well enough to be left! Do I look as if I need a babysitter?” Walter’s scowl was terrifying. “I’m out of the hospital, aren’t I? We all know my grandson can’t bear to be away from the city for more than ten minutes, so he can leave now as far as I’m concerned and get back to those bright lights he can’t live without.”
Five minutes together and they were on a collision course, Sean thought. He saw his mother’s worried look as she placed two roasted chickens in the center of the table ready to be carved.
“How are you feeling, Walter?”
“Perfectly well,” Walter snapped, “so people don’t need to be hovering over me.”
“Having Sean here makes me feel better. He drove all the way over here to be with you and he’s not going back until you’re well.”
“I’m well now.” But Walter’s hand shook slightly as he held the edge of the table. “And you can all stop looking at me as if you’re waiting for me to drop dead at any moment. And what use would Sean be, anyway? He’s an orthopedic surgeon. I haven’t broken my leg, have I?”
Tyler rolled his eyes to heaven and Élise calmly placed a bowl of potato salad next to the chicken.
“It’s good to have you home, Walter.”
Walter finally noticed her, but instead of smiling his scowl deepened. “You here, too? You should be running the restaurant, not standing in the kitchen fussing over me. What’s happening to the Boathouse while you’re in here? This is the reason Snow Crystal is in trouble. No one does their job when I’m not here to keep an eye on things. This whole place would fall apart without me.”
His irritation mounting, Sean was about to spring to Élise’s defense when she placed her hand on his grandfather’s shoulder, her touch soothing and calming. If she was upset by the attack, she didn’t show it.
“It is true we certainly need you here. We have missed you.”
Jackson carved chicken onto a plate. “When you’re feeling better I’ll tell you what’s been going on, but you should take it easy for a few days.” His tone was mild and his grandmother sent him a grateful look.
“That’s right, you are. You’re spending tomorrow in bed, Walter O’Neil,” Alice said firmly as she picked up her knitting. “No arguments.”
“Bed?” Walter’s jaw was rigid, his eyes bright as he went into full combat mode. Maple whined and shot under the table for protection. “I will not spend tomorrow in bed. Do you think I don’t know how much there is to do here? Summer is a busy time. The place is heaving with tourists.”
“Which is surprising when you think that no one does their jobs when you’re not here,” Tyler drawled and earned himself a fierce look from his grandfather.
“This place doesn’t have enough staff to be able to afford to be a man down. I am not going to lie in bed so don’t suggest it again. I’ll be on that deck by nine o’clock, helping Élise. And now I’d like a beer, please.”
Alice pursed her lips. “You’re not drinking beer. And this place can run perfectly well without you for a few days.”
“Life is for living.” Walter thumped his fist down on the table. “What use is it being back home if a man can’t enjoy a beer in his own kitchen?”
Concerned about the effect the stress was having on his grandfather’s blood pressure, Sean smoothly steered the conversation toward the renovations of the boathouse and soon the whole family were gathered around the table talking and sharing food.
He’d spent half his childhood in this kitchen, arguing with his brothers, grabbing food on the run to some place more exciting. It had always been a place to gather, to argue and to eat. The only thing that had changed was that his father was missing.
Sean sat quietly, struggling with his own emotions, and then realized that his grandfather was unusually quiet, barely touching the food on his plate and not joining in the laughter.
He felt a flash of concern.