Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)(109)

Things hadn’t been right between her and Lucas since two weeks ago, when Ellen the Perfect had swept into town in all her pregnant radiance.

They weren’t fighting. It was more like there was a tremor in the Force.

Because a judge had apparently been a member of the same secret society at Yale as Frank Forbes, Joe Campbell was now quietly divorced. Lucas had thanked her for the idea...but still, it couldn’t have been done without perfect Ellen. Not that Colleen was insecure or jealous (cough). No, Ellen was completely nice and classy and engaged and preggers, and why the hell did she bother Colleen so much, anyway? Ellen was back in Chicago now, as were Lucas’s sister and nieces. They’d come into the bar to say hello and stayed for dinner, and Colleen had had to go into the office and cry for a second—the girls were so big! Once upon a time, she and Lucas had babysat Mercedes and the infant twins. She’d never even met the fourth one.

Didi had gone off to visit a friend in Boca and would stay for the duration. It had only cost Lucas about four grand, he’d told her, and it was money very well spent. Joe could now die in peace.

The loo was now spotless. With a sigh, Colleen returned to the bustle. But all through the evening, she obsessed. Worried, fretted, mulled and, ironically, tried not to think about Lucas.

Their time together was drawing to a close. They were still sleeping together, but it was almost too much—the intensity, the meaning, the poignance. Soon, one of these times would be their last. Or not. Or they’d try a long-distance thing.

But without saying the actual words, Lucas had made it clear: Manningsport was not his home. Chicago was. Manningsport was where he had lived for a short time and no more. A place that meant nothing to him, and everything to her.

She wasn’t going to leave.

Not that he had asked, mind you.

At the end of her shift, she called the nursing home to check on her grandfather.

“Hey, Coll,” said Joanie. “He’s a little restless right now.”

“I’ll pop over, then,” Colleen said.

A half hour later, she was sitting at Gramp’s bedside, holding his hand, talking about her day, the specials Connor had whipped up, how she’d taken Savannah for a swim in Keuka and how cold and clear the water had been. “I remember how you told me about you and Gran, taking a row in the moonlight on your honeymoon,” she said. “You said she looked like an angel, and you could hear a whip-poor-will calling.” Gramp didn’t respond, but she hoped he could picture it, those long-ago days with the love of his life.

But then, she ran out of things to say. Rufus, whom she’d brought in for company, was lying on the floor, twitching in sleep. Aside from his sighs (it sounded like a pretty good dream), the place was quiet.

Gramp made a whimpering sound, and Colleen kissed his hand. Rufus’s tail thumped the floor as if to reassure the old man. “I’m still here, Gramp. Don’t worry.”

Connor came to visit about once a week, more than anyone else except Colleen herself. The other O’Rourke cousins felt—perhaps legitimately—that their visits did nothing more than confuse Gramp, because the staff did report he’d be agitated afterward.

Dad never came. Once, Colleen had brought Savannah, but Gail and Dad had both had fits over it...exposing their innocent flower to the ravages of time, etc., etc. So it was just Colleen. She sometimes thought that if she could, she’d move in to Rushing Creek because she and Gramp had always had a special bond.

Her grandfather pulled his hand away and rubbed his forehead, his classic move when he was agitated.

“So I’m in love again, Gramp,” she said, more so he could hear her voice than anything else. Well. Except it was good to say out loud. “Same guy as last time. Dumb, huh? No live and learn here. He’ll be leaving pretty soon. We try not to talk about it. I think he wants me to live in Chicago, and I want him to stay here, and neither one of us is going to get our way.”

No answer.

She adjusted her grandfather’s blanket. “You’re right. Live life for the moment. Eat dessert first. I brought you some cookies, by the way. Peanut butter. Your favorite.”

“Hey.”

She jumped. Lucas stood in the doorway. Hopefully, he hadn’t heard her. “Hi. What are you doing here so late?”

“I’m on my way out, actually.” He paused. “They just admitted Joe to Hospice. He took a turn for the worse this afternoon.”

“Oh, Lucas. I’m so sorry.”

“He’s sleeping now. Pretty doped up. He had a bad coughing fit and brought up some blood, so he discontinued dialysis and...” He ran a hand through his hair. “It won’t be long.”

“I’ll look in on him.”

He gave a ghost of a smile. “He always liked you.” Another pause. “How’s your grandfather?” he asked.

“The same as ever.”

Lucas went over and took Gramp’s hand. “Hi, Mr. O’Rourke,” he said. “It’s Lucas Campbell. Good to see you again, sir.”

“Liar,” Colleen said, though her eyes were full.

Gramp turned away and closed his eyes. Pulled his hand free and rolled onto his side. “He’ll sleep for a while now,” she said. “That’s my cue to leave.”

She roused her dog, and she and Lucas walked down the silent hallway.