Linda and Maggie greeted him.
“How is he?” Linda asked.
“Stronger than yesterday. The pain medication is keeping him comfortable. He’s been awake for about twenty minutes.” Tom turned toward the door and pushed it open.
Uncle George was propped up in the bed against three pillows; the cast on his hip and leg looked uncomfortable, his thick white hair was rumpled, and he looked gray from pain, which made Linda’s chest ache. His eyes lifted to the door as she came in, and the tired warmth in them was one of the most welcome things Linda had ever seen.
“Hello, you two,” Uncle George said, his voice rough from the medication as a smile spread across his lips.
Linda crossed the room in three strides, bent over the bed, and kissed his forehead.
“Uncle George, it’s so good to see you awake,” Linda breathed, fighting back the tears of relief. “You scared the life out of me.”
“I’m sorry, my dear,” Uncle George said. “It was such a stupid accident.”
“It really was,” Linda agreed with him. “You are always the one to say safety first, and if you have to do anything dangerous, make sure someone is around.” She threw his own words at him.
“I knew my words would come back to haunt me one day,” Uncle George gave a soft sigh. “Your mother always scolded me and told me to….
“Practice what you preach,” Linda, Maggie, and Tom finished the sentence with him.
“It was just a lightbulb. I’ve been changing lightbulbs in that hotel for sixty years.” George ran a hand over his face and shook his head.
“You’re eighty-five.” Maggie pointed out, her eyes narrowingly angrily.
“And until yesterday, I’ve been fully capable of changing my own lightbulbs.” George crossed his arms in defiance as he defended his actions.
“Uncle George.” Linda took his hand in hers, making him unfold his arms. “Please, you have to be more careful. Even at my age, I know there are certain things I shouldn’t be doing.”
“You said, shouldn’t,” George noted. “But you still do them because you have to, as there is no one else there to take care of it.”
“George,” Tom’s tone of voice brooked no argument. “All we are saying is that you can’t be doing that sort of thing on your own anymore.”
“All right, all right. I will not be changing any more lightbulbs alone. I concede the point.” George gave in.
The three of them pulled up chairs on the same side of the bed as they knew the doctor would be in shortly.
“Listen to me, sweetheart,” Uncle George said, his voice softer now. “Before the doctor comes back, there is something I have been meaning to say to you for a long time.”
“What is it?” Linda leaned a little bit forward in her chair.
“I think you should come home for good. Instead of buying a new house all the way in Miami, you can stay in Heart House,” Uncle George told her. “You can even decorate it as you wish.”
Linda blinked as she looked at him, bewildered. Did he read minds now? She was going to tell him that’s what she intended to do.
“Uncle George.” Linda patted his hand. “I was going to tell you that I wanted to move back here.” She smiled, knowing just how she could spin helping him out at the hotel. “As I was going to look for a job anyway, I thought I could work at the hotel again. Like I did before I got married.”
“I would love that,” Uncle George said, surprising her as she was expecting a bit of a fight. Instead, he seemed relieved and excited about her idea. “I’ve always told you and Michael that you belong here.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “The hotel, Heart House, and the reserve will go to both of you one day. I’m so pleased that you have finally shown an interest in it.”
That surprised Linda even more. “Uncle George, of course, we are interested in the hotel.”
“Good. I’m glad that’s settled then,” George said. “I didn’t want you renting or buying some little place in Miami when there is a five-bedroom house with your name on it just sitting empty for most of the year.”
Before they could say more, there was a soft knock at the door, and the orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Stanford, stepped into the room with a tablet tucked under one arm and a kind, professional smile on his face. He greeted everyone in the room before turning his attention to George.
“Mr. Heart. You are looking a lot better this morning,” Dr. Stanford noted.
“I’ll look even better when I can get out of here,” George told him.
