Let It Be (Butler, Vermont #6) - Marie Force Page 0,61
McCartney
His sister led the way into the family room, which had been redone since Linc was last there. The fireplace and built-in bookshelves were as he remembered and still full of books. Both his parents had been big readers and had passed the hobby along to their children.
His family surrounded him, some sitting on sofas and chairs, and others standing behind him.
“I married Andy Higgins,” Char said.
“No way!” Andy had been one of Linc’s closest friends as a child. “When did that happen?”
“A few years after…”
After his banishment, she meant. “Kids?”
“Four,” Char said. “Two of each, including a son named Lincoln.”
“Oh,” Linc said, incredibly moved. “Well… That’s lovely.”
“We never forgot you either,” she said with a sigh. “I’m the executive director of a nonprofit that helps to place formerly homeless women in new careers.”
“I can see that for you,” Linc said. His sister had always been tuned in to the needs of those less fortunate than they had been.
“I’m a dentist,” Will said, “married to Kendall, and we have three daughters.”
“My wife, Courtney, and I have twin sons,” Max said. “I work for a tech company that supports cell phone networks.”
“Wow, three sets of twins between us,” Linc said to his brother. “I want to see pictures of my nieces and nephews.”
“We could use your services in Butler, Vermont,” Landon said to his uncle Max. “The place cell service went to die.”
“You don’t have cell service there?” Uncle Max asked, seeming stunned that anyone lived without such a modern luxury.
“Nope,” Linc said. “I’ve never owned a cell phone.”
“I can’t wrap my head around this,” Uncle Max said.
“You sound like my wife, Cameron,” Will said.
“And mine,” Colton added. “Cam and Lucy lived in New York City until they moved to Butler. It was a bit of an adjustment, to say the least.”
The conversation took off from there as his siblings shared photos of their families with him, and his kids conversed with their aunt and uncles, who’d apparently said enough to earn the forgiveness of his crew. That made Linc happy. He was ready to forgive and move on, even if he’d never forget.
A short time later, Linc looked over at his sister. “I suppose I should see Father.”
“I can take you up.”
“I want him to see Molly and the kids.” He borrowed Hunter’s words when he said, “I want him to see what came of the ultimatum he gave me.”
“I think he should see that, too. Let me take you to him.”
As they followed Char up the stairs, Molly took Linc’s hand and gave it a squeeze. He glanced at her, and the warm smile she directed his way calmed and settled him. No matter what happened in the next few minutes, when he went to bed tonight it would be with her, and forty years of sleeping next to her was worth any sacrifice he’d had to make.
More memories flooded his mind as he went up the familiar stairs to the second floor. At the landing, he looked to the closed door on the left that had been his bedroom. He wondered what they’d done with his things.
“Let me tell him you’re here,” Char said, stepping into the master bedroom at the end of the hallway.
From outside the door, Linc could hear his sister say, “Father, Lincoln is here. He’s come to see you.”
He couldn’t hear his father’s reply, but while he waited for his sister, he leaned his forehead against Molly’s.
“Right here with you, pal.”
From behind, someone squeezed his shoulder.
Ella curled her hands around his arm.
Surrounded by the ones he loved most, in the home where he’d grown up and later been banished from, he was struck with profound sadness at the futility of it all. His father had lost one son tragically and had exiled another—and for what? It had all been such a terrible waste of energy.
“Linc?” Char said. “He’ll see you now.”
“You want me to wait out here?” Molly asked.
He tightened his grip on her hand so she couldn’t get away. “Absolutely not.”
Linc and Molly went into the room together, while the others waited in the hallway. Even though he’d known his once-robust father was seriously ill, seeing him sitting upright in a hospital bed, surrounded by oxygen tanks and beeping monitors, was still shocking. His dark hair was gone, replaced by thin whisps of white hair, and his mouth and nose were covered by an oxygen mask.
His father’s eyes, however, were still sharp, even if they seemed sunken into his gaunt face. “Linc,” he