Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)(106)

And much to her surprise, Colleen burst into tears.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“UNCLE JOE, YOU handsome devil.” Stephanie bent down and gave Joe a big hug, then kissed his cheek and wiped off the red lip imprint. “Girls, remember Uncle Joe?”

The older girls gave out hugs with good-natured duty. Chloe, on the other hand, stared him down. “I’m sorry you’re dying,” she said solemnly.

Didi looked as though she’d just stepped in a Rufus-sized pile of dog shit. Joe, on the other hand, laughed. “Thanks, honey. For a minute, I thought I’d already died, because you girls are as pretty as angels. You, too, Stephie!”

Lucas’s sister and kids—and Frank and Grace Forbes—had flown in that morning and taken a limo from the airport straight here, to the park by the lake, where you could reserve picnic areas and grills.

“Frank, Grace, I would’ve been happy to have had this at our house,” Didi simpered, shooting Lucas a death glare. “If only I’d known you were coming. Of course, our place is nothing like yours, but we think it’s sweet, and I would’ve loved to have had you.” That hadn’t been the case when Didi thought it was just going to be the Campbells, of course, and Lucas had taken a small modicum of pleasure in denying his aunt the opportunity to kiss up to his former in-laws.

“This is perfect,” Grace said. “Ellen, honey, sit down and drink something.”

The girls ran and splashed; Lucas had bought some little balsa-wood boats at the hardware store, and in the face of good old-fashioned fun, the electronic devices were cheerfully forgotten. Didi cooed over Ellen and tried to act rich, mentioning her Coach bag and how you had to pay for nice things, of course Grace knew all about that, no, it wasn’t as if Didi and Joe were anywhere nearly as comfortable as Grace and Frank, of course not, but they did all right, not that she was bragging, but New York wasn’t a cheap place to live, and she was smart with her finances, not Forbes-smart, of course not, no, but she admired quality. Ellen caught his eye and gave the slightest grin; both she and her mother were too polite to do anything more than that.

Frank and Joe talked and laughed, Joe doing his best to act robust. He’d sleep like the dead after this.

An unfortunate choice of words.

“Get out of the way, little brother,” Stephanie said with an ungentle shove. “I always made these better than you.” She took the spatula from him and checked the foil-wrapped sandwiches he was grilling—chicken and ham and pickles, replicas of the cubanos Joe always used to get from Diego’s in the old neighborhood when he’d visit.

“Aren’t these bad for him?” Steph asked quietly.

“Yep.”

She nodded, and a tear fell onto the grill with a small hiss. “So how much time has he got?”

“The dialysis can keep him indefinitely,” Lucas answered. “But the cancer’s spreading, and he wants get while the getting’s good. Or at least, before it gets horrific.”

“Can’t blame him, I guess.” Steph swallowed thickly, then added more mustard to the rolls. “How’s Bryce holding up?” she asked, nodding over at their cousin, who was hurling the girls into the water, much to their shrieking delight.

“He’s Bryce. He won’t talk about Joe actually dying, and he won’t let Joe talk about it, either.”

Steph’s mouth wobbled. “I wasn’t as close to Uncle Joe as you were, obviously, but he was—is—so sweet. I wasn’t ready for how old he looked.” She wiped her eyes subtly, then waved to Mercedes, who had eyes like a hawk. “When are we having the talk?”

“A little later.”

For now, Joe could eat a few bites of regular food, take a few sips of beer, and be with his family. There was salad and coleslaw and ribs and watermelon, and chocolate chip cookies from the smiling woman at the bakery, as well as a cooler full of iced teas, soda and beers, and a bottle of wine for Grace; a Blue Heron dry Riesling, sold to him by Colleen’s mother this very morning.

A couple hours later, when they had all eaten and Joe had taken a nap on the lounge chair in the shade, Lucas asked Bryce to take the girls out on one of the tour boats that ran every two hours.

“Don’t you want to come, Uncle Lucas?” Chloe asked.

“I’ll stay here and talk to the grown-ups,” he said.

“Then I want to stay, too.”

“We’re talking about banking. It’s very boring.”

“I love banking.”

“Good,” he said. “It’s high time you had a job. But for now, off you go.”

“Chloe, don’t be a twit,” Mercedes said, taking her little sister by the hand. “We’re being ostracized.”

“Nice word,” Lucas said.

“Thanks. I’m in AP English.”

“Yes. You’ve told me seven or eight times now.” He winked at her, and she smiled as she walked away.

“Come on, girls,” Bryce said, scooping up a twin under each arm. “I hope you don’t fall overboard. You know there’s a monster in this lake, and it loves little girls.” They shrieked obligingly, and if Bryce wondered why he was the only adult going out on the lake, he didn’t ask about it.

When they were off, Lucas got Ellen another bottle of water. Didi was asking about Ellen and Steve’s wedding and trying to finagle an invitation in her unsubtle way. “Will you have many guests? Oh, I just love Chicago in September! I haven’t been since that wonderful party your parents had in—”