Elin Hilderbrand - Winter Stroll

Kevin says, “Can we get two orders of calamari right away? And some potato skins for the boys.”

The waiter nods, then gets the heck out of there.

Margaret says, “You’re right, Jennifer, you’re right. Patrick’s actions were shortsighted and greedy. He has done you and the boys a great disservice.”

Whoa again, Kevin thinks. In thirty-seven years, Kevin has never heard Margaret say a negative word about Patrick. Okay, that’s probably hyperbole. But it’s pretty well documented that Patrick is Margaret’s favorite, even if she would never admit it. He’s probably Kelley’s favorite as well. The firstborn son, the heir to the Quinn family throne, the golden child.

Kevin isn’t pleased that the conversation has turned to Patrick on the day of Genevieve’s christening. And, he hasn’t forgotten, he’s angry at Jennifer for not giving him the heads-up about Norah!

Where on earth is Ava? Kevin wonders.

Kelley returns to the table with a seemingly chastened Barrett.

“Sorry, Mom,” Barrett mumbles.

Jennifer mops her face with a napkin. She has completely lost her composure. It’s almost as if it isn’t Jennifer Barrett Quinn at the table, but rather her doppelgänger, or a Jennifer who has been body-snatched and replaced by an alien.

Is she on something? Kevin wonders.

“Wow,” Kelley says. “You all look totally miserable. What did I miss?”

“Can we order?” Kevin asks. “Please?”

Pierce and Jaime return to their seats. Pierce is holding a sprig of mistletoe he must have stolen from somewhere in the restaurant. He holds it over his mother’s head and gives her a kiss. This gets a smile out of her.

“I think I’ll have the lobster bisque,” Drake says.

“Does anyone remember the time…,” Kelley says.

“Yes, Dad,” Kevin says. Quinn Family Legend, he thinks: the Sea Grille edition . Kelley once ordered the lobster bisque, which comes covered with a dill puff pastry. When Kelley poked through the puff pastry, there was no soup in the bowl.

They have to mention it every time they eat at the Sea Grille. The story is tired, but it’s preferable to discussing Patrick’s character flaws and the way he’s let them all down.

Kevin stands up, his near-empty beer in hand. “I’m not going to wait for Ava,” he says. “I’d like to make a toast.” He checks around the table to make sure all eyes are on him: Mitzi and Kelley, check, Margaret and Drake, check, Barrett, check, Jaime is picking the berries off the mistletoe and trying to sink them in his water glass, Jennifer is drinking her wine, Pierce is looking at something under the table, probably his iPhone. Isabelle, check. The empty chairs seem to glare at him-the ghosts of Patrick and Bart-and Kevin thinks this makes sense. This toast is really for them.

“For years and years,” Kevin says, “I felt like the Lesser Quinn. The slacker Quinn. The screwup Quinn. The unremarkable middle child. After all, I had an older brother who could slay dragons with his green eyes. I had a younger sister with perfect pitch. And just when it seemed my younger brother might end up being a bigger failure than even me, he goes off to war to defend our country and our freedom.”

There is a sniffle from Mitzi’s direction.

“But today I saw my little girl baptized, a daughter given to me by my beautiful fiancée, Isabelle Beaulieu. Some of what is good and right about my life is due to those of you who dealt with me before I met Isabelle-Mom, Dad, Mitzi, Jennifer, Ava, and my brothers, Patrick and Bart. But now, the love that sustains me and motivates me and keeps me upright is my love for Isabelle and for our precious, sweet daughter, Genevieve. It is to them that I would like to raise my glass. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for making me matter. Cheers to all, and God bless.”

Cheers, God bless around the table. Even Jennifer raises her glass.

They order. Bisque for Drake, flatbread for Mitzi, lobster roll for Margaret, steak for Kelley, chicken fingers for Jaime, burger for Pierce, nothing for Barrett until he relents and orders the burger, bouillabaisse for Isabelle, grilled swordfish for Kevin, and a salad, no dressing, for Jennifer. Until she reconsiders and orders the fried shrimp platter with extra coleslaw.

Okay, Kevin thinks. They are on their way. Genevieve is asleep in Isabelle’s arms and Isabelle doesn’t look far behind. Kevin is so tired he could put his head down on the table now and sleep until morning.

The waiter leaves and Ava appears. She is not with Scott, as they all expected. She is by herself and her face is bright pink. She looks like a dam that’s about to burst.

“Mitzi?” Ava says. “Daddy?”

Everyone at the table is staring at her.

Margaret seems to intuit what Ava is about to say. “Has something happened, darling?”

“I just heard on the radio that one of the missing marines from Bart’s platoon has escaped . The U.S. military has him. He’s in critical condition and is being flown to Landstuhl for treatment.”

“What?” Mitzi says.

Margaret jumps up from the table with her phone.

He is the patriarch here. It’s up to him to keep order and make decisions. They can’t sit and enjoy lunch now; already their table sounds like a street riot.

Kevin asks the waiter to pack all the meals up to go and Jennifer says that she and the boys will wait for the food while everyone else heads back to the inn.

Mitzi is shaking so badly Kelley and Drake each take an arm and lead her out of the restaurant. She’s saying, “One of the marines escaped. One escaped! That means the others are alive. Right, Kelley? Right?”

“We don’t know,” Kelley says. One marine out of forty-five escaped. What are the chances it was Bart? Three percent. And does Kelley want it to be Bart? The marine is in “critical condition.”

But he’s alive. And Mitzi’s right. That means the others might be alive, too.

Hope.

Margaret is standing in the parking lot, phone to one ear, fingers plugging the other. Kelley and Drake walk Mitzi over to the car and help her inside.

Kelley wishes he’d eaten something. He does not feel well. His head feels like it’s going to topple off his shoulders.

Margaret finally hangs up and climbs into the backseat. She says, “They should be releasing the name within the hour.”

Mitzi keens. Kelley gets behind the wheel. One thing at a time. He has to drive safely back to the inn.

Hope.

At home, everyone gathers in the kitchen except for Isabelle, who is putting the baby down for a nap. Jennifer comes in with heavy bags of takeout containers, which smell wonderful, although no one has any desire to eat.

Kelley pours himself a cup of coffee and sets about making some tea for Mitzi, which he knows she won’t drink, but he wants to keep his hands busy.

They are all waiting for Margaret’s phone to ring.

There’s a knock at the front door. Ava looks at Kelley, who looks at Kevin. Kevin goes to answer it, and a few seconds later George walks into the kitchen. Kelley puts a protective hand on Mitzi’s shoulder.

George says, “I just heard the news. I felt I should come.”

Kelley nods and offers their former Santa Claus a stool at the counter. “Coffee?” Kelley asks.

George pulls out his flask. “Whiskey,” he says.

“Good idea,” Kevin says, and he pours himself a shot of Jameson. “Dad?”

“No thanks,” Kelley says.

Jennifer takes a few Styrofoam containers out of the bag and says, “I’m going to take the boys up their lunch.”

The second she leaves, there’s another knock at the front door.