Page 18 of The Un-Apparent Heir

“No, no,” Winston said. “If you feel comfortable taking us back.”

“You can’t leave now,” Natalie said. “You won’t be cleared to fly, George. You know better?—”

“Fine, fine,” George said. “I can get us as far as London and then I must stay overnight before I can fly us back. Nat is right. I have a clock.”

“You won’t get a flight until tomorrow back to the States at this point,” Natalie said. “I can’t take you, either.”

“We leave in the morning,” George announced.

“What are we doing now?” Patrick asked, putting Leah down. She crawled to Malcolm who played with a board book before the television.

“We’re going to let the children open presents in peace and then fly Lucy and Winston back in the morning with Malcolm. I will. You’ll do nothing, of course.”

“Nothing. Nothing but mind the little monsters, Georgie.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “Lucy, what is going on?”

“I’m… my Dad is dying. And I’m not all that worried about it because I’m a terrible person.”

“No, it’s because your Dad is a prick. Her mother is having a difficult time,” George explained.

“It’s okay to have emotions, Lulu,” Winston said. “Whatever they are. We’re here for you, my love. That’s all.”

“Exactly. Family stands up for family,” George said. “And while you didn’t come into the family the way everyone expected, this is true. I will make sure you get back in one piece.”

“Scouts honour,” Patrick added.

“Of course you were a Boy Scout,” George said.

“Because it’s gay?” Patrick joked.

“No, because you’re a brown noser,” George said.

“Oh, fuck off, Georgie. It’s not time to take the piss. You’re a doll, Pat,” Natalie said. “Are you sure I cannot manage to help?”

“George is helping,” Lucy said. “You’re more than off the hook. And you have plans. Oh, Tony, we must cancel the party.”

“Luce, that’s so minor.”

“He will get a proper birthday if it kills us,” George chuckled. “You know I love to plan a party.”

“I know. God, I remember. How could I forget?” Lucy chuckled, wiping her eyes.

“You do, too. Just not for yourself.”

“I am not a party person, George. We’ve established that.”

“Well, Malcolm wants us to throw a rager. So, we will,” Patrick said. “If we must, I mean. Twist our arms.”

5

TO HOSPITAL

“Look who made it, Dwight,” Brittany Chandler said.

Lucy entered with Winston, Malcolm asleep on his father’s shoulder. Dwight Chandler was half asleep, overmedicated, and thin. He was there with everyone else—Lucy’s older sister, Jenn, and her husband Tim. Their baby, Connor, sat in Jenn’s lap. Lucy’s baby sister, Francine, rushed to give her sister a tearful hug. It was too long. Lucy held her tight.

“Is that your boy, Lucy?” Dwight asked.

“He is, yes,” Lucy fought tears. “A bit exhausted. He’s jet-lagged. We came right from O’Hare. It was a mess. Sorry.”

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