48
Y ou got it, Pop?” I stand with my arms stretched out, preparing to catch Harvey if he falls coming down the ramp of the transport that’s brought him home from Dalebrook. He walks with a cane, no wobble in his step, but I’m not taking any risks. The cobblestones behind our building are precarious on any given day, and right now they’re covered in snow as well.
“I’m fine.” He takes the last step onto the ground and smiles. “Ah, it’s good to be home.”
“The stairlift guy was here finishing up earlier, so everything is ready.”
“You’ve had a busy morning then.”
I have. Small blessings. I’ll take what I can in the form of distractions to keep me from thinking about where Leo is right now and why. Nope, there I go again.
“Where are my pups?” Harvey asks as we head inside.
“Upstairs. I didn’t want them knocking you over.”
He stops at the bottom of the stairs, mouth falling open. “The store.” He turns to me, excitement sparkling. “It looks fantastic. You did all this yourself?”
I try to see what he sees. The space is better organized these days, not as chaotic. And the lower tables in the front offer a good overview of in-season items. “Micki helped.”
He steps up to the counter and runs his fingertips over the display of tags. When he looks at me again, his eyes are red-rimmed and glistening. “You’re the best damn granddaughter a man could have, kiddo.”
I stand cemented to the ground. I’ve never seen Harvey cry, and it’s jarring.
“Forgive an old man.” He sniffles and dabs at his crow’s feet with his sleeve. “Nothing like being bedridden for two months to remind you of your mortality.”
That sets me in motion, and I all but rush him and wrap my arms around him. He smells like bar soap and wool, and I inhale deeply. It takes a beat, but then he hugs me back.
“There, there. You’ve worked hard.” He pats my back but then holds me at arm-length’s distance. “You did good, Cora. And I’m here now.”
I nod, the lump in my throat blocking my words. Yes, he’s here now. Not sure about me “doing good,” though. Unless Saturday goes my way, we’re still in a precarious situation.
A duet of whines rises above our conversation, making us turn our faces upward. Cap and Cho are looking at us through the gate at the top of the stairs, pacing with impatience.
“You’ll have to show me how that contraption works,” Harvey says, nodding at the lift.
I take a second to refocus before pulling my features into a smile. “Nothing to it. You sit down, strap in, and move this switch.”
He lowers himself into the seat, and I point to the seat belt.
“Amazing!” Pop exclaims when the lift starts moving slowly up the track.
I walk next to him, carrying his bag and cane. “It does the trick.”
Cap bounces up and down on his bowed legs the closer we get.
“Almost there, buddy.” Harvey chuckles.
The dogs give him a warm, slobby welcome as expected, and even Boris is up and wagging his tail. Cho respectfully stays on the floor instead of jumping into his lap once he’s seated, either because she knows he’s more fragile than usual or because the bandage I’ve wrapped around her paw makes graceful leaps impossible, but Harvey scoops her up all the same and starts scratching her neck as if no time has passed.
I grab a yogurt from the fridge and sit down. I should have enough time to finish it before I have to open the store again. “I’ll fill you in on everything later,” I say. “You should get some rest this afternoon. Will you need help unpacking?”
Harvey shakes his head. “If you put the bag on my bed, I should manage.”
“No heroics, though. Promise?”
Harvey chuckles. “Promise. I could live without another stint in a facility.”
“I thought you liked Dalebrook.”
He grunts in a noncommittal way. “It wasn’t all bad, I suppose. Which reminds me—tonight is the night that Sylvia is bringing over dinner.” His face lights up when he says her name. Someone is smitten.
“Any day I don’t have to cook is a good day.”
“Will Leo join us?”
The knife slides in farther, and I focus intently on my yogurt cup, so Harvey won’t see the pain plastered across my face. “He’s in New York,” I say, hoping it will suffice as explanation for now. “But are you sure you wouldn’t rather it be just the two of you?”
“No way. I’ve missed you, kiddo.”
At least one person wants me around. “Then dinner for three it is.”