Читать книгу The Unexpected Gift - Irene Hannon, Irene Hannon - Страница 12

“Anybody home?” Grant called as he opened the door of the house he’d grown up in, the house his father and uncle now shared.

“We’re in the kitchen, son,” his father responded, his voice muffled.

Grant made his way down the hall and found his father and uncle wolfing down what looked like remnants from yesterday’s Christmas dinner.

“Pull up a chair,” Uncle Pete invited. “There’s plenty. Kit made us take all this home. Said she had way too much left over. We didn’t argue a whole lot.”

After draping his sheepskin-lined jacket over the back of a chair and retrieving a plate from the cabinet, Grant joined the older men at the sturdy oak table.

“On your way to see Christine?” his father asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I admire your commitment, son. But I worry about you,” he said, his face troubled. “It’s been two-and-a-half years, and you almost never miss a day. You’re going to wear yourself out.”

“I have to go, Dad. She’d do the same for me.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t go. Maybe just not every day.”

Because it doesn’t seem to make any difference.

The words were unspoken, but they hung in the air. His family had long ago accepted that Christine would probably never recover from the head injury that had sent her into a deep coma. Yet according to the doctors, there was brain activity. So she was still there, trapped in a broken body. Grant couldn’t abandon her, even though only a tiny glimmer of hope remained in his own heart. But even if that last glimmer was finally extinguished, he still had an obligation to her. And he would see it through…for as long as she needed him.

Grant reached for a slice of prime rib and answered the way he always did. “I’ll see, Dad. For now, this is what I need to do.”

Pete looked at Andrew, then changed the subject. “That was one fine meal yesterday. And the leftovers aren’t bad, either.”

“I’m glad you convinced Jo’s niece to join us, Grant.” Andrew picked up Pete’s cue. “Didn’t sound like she had much of a meal planned. And nobody should be alone on Christmas.”

“To be honest, she turned me down at first. So I called Kit, and her powers of persuasion did the trick.”

Pete chuckled. “Your sister could charm a moose out of his antlers.”

Grant grinned. “I agree.”

“I hope Morgan had a good time,” Andrew said. “Seems like that job of hers doesn’t give her a minute of peace.”

“I expect it’s the kind of life she wants,” Grant said with a shrug.

“Can’t imagine why. Seems like too much stress to me. She is one high-strung young woman.”

“She’s a looker, though,” Uncle Pete added.

“She is that,” Andrew agreed. “But I feel sorry for her, living on the edge like that. Can’t even enjoy a holiday without interruption.”

“Don’t waste your sympathy, Dad. She chose that life, so it must suit her. Just like it did Mom. In fact, she reminds me a lot of Mom.”

Andrew tilted his head, his expression quizzical. “Is that right? She seems real different to me.”

“How do you figure that?” Grant helped himself to some potatoes. “She’s ambitious, driven, puts her career first…it’s Mom all over again.”

“I don’t think so. There’s more to Morgan Williams than that. I picked up a sort of…restlessness…like she’s still searching for her path. Your mother was single-minded once she made up her mind to go for the gold. I don’t get the same vibes from Morgan.”

“Then you must be on the wrong wavelength,” Grant said, giving him a wry look. “What do you think, Uncle Pete?”

“Like I said, she’s a looker.”

“You have a one-track mind, you know that?” Grant told him with a grin.

“Well, it’s true.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t. But we weren’t discussing her appearance.”

“You can discuss anything you like. But when the good Lord sends a pretty woman my way, I intend to enjoy it instead of trying to psychoanalyze her.”

“How did you stay a bachelor all these years?” Grant asked, shaking his head.

“I like my independence. But I don’t mind lookin’.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“That’s a fact,” Pete agreed good-naturedly.

As his father and uncle began debating the merits of cherry versus maple for an upcoming project, Grant finished his lunch. Then he rose and snagged his coat off the back of his chair. “I’ve got to run. See you both tomorrow.”

“Take care, son.”

The two older men watched Grant leave, then turned their attention to the leftover cheesecake. As Andrew cut them each a generous wedge, Uncle Pete spoke.

“I worry about that boy.”

“So do I.”

“Livin’ the way he does isn’t healthy. He spends all his time at the shop or running back and forth to Brunswick to see Christine. He’s got to be lonely.”

“He has us. And Kit’s family.”

Uncle Pete brushed that aside. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know,” Andrew said with a sigh. “But he loved Christine, Pete. He still does. And he won’t go on with his life as long as he feels she needs him.”

“Sometimes it sure is hard to figure why the good Lord gave him such a cross to bear,” Uncle Pete declared, shaking his head.

“I don’t expect we’ll ever find the answer to that one.”

“No, I don’t suppose we will. But it sure does seem a waste. He’s a fine man with a fine heart. He should be going home to a wife and a family every day, not spending time in that depressing extended-care facility.”