For a while, neither of them spoke, just watched the fire burn. "I've been thinking," Victoria said eventually, "about what you said, that you gave up the things that didn't matter." Lucas poked at the fire. "Yeah?" "Did you really believe that?
Or were you just trying to convince yourself?" He didn't answer right away. The question was too big, too honest. Both, he said finally. When Mia was born, I had to believe it.
Had to believe that being her father was enough. That I could build a life around her and be happy. And were you happy? I was content. That's not the same thing, but it's close enough.
Victoria pulled the blanket tighter. I don't think I know the difference anymore. Between happy and content? Yeah. Lucas looked at her.
Really looked. In the firelight she looked younger, less guarded, more like the girl he'd fallen in love with. Happy is when you're exactly where you want to be, he said. Content is when you've convinced yourself it's good enough. Victoria's eyes met his.
Which one are you? Right now? I don't know. She held his gaze. Me, neither.
The moment stretched, the fire crackled, outside wind howled, and then Victoria did something that shocked him. She leaned her head on his shoulder. Lucas froze. Every muscle in his body went rigid. Is this okay?
She asked quietly. No. It wasn't okay, it was dangerous and stupid and completely wrong, but he didn't move away. Yeah, he said. It's okay.
They sat like that for a long time, not talking, not moving, just being. And for the first time in 7 years, Lucas felt something other than empty. Morning came with a new crisis. Margaret was sick. Fever, chills, coughing so hard it shook her whole body.
Richard was beside himself trying to make her comfortable, but they all knew the truth. Without power, without heat, stuck in a freezing cabin, this could get bad fast. We need to get her to a hospital, Eleanor said. Richard shook his head. The roads are impassable.
We'd never make it. Then we call for help. Phone lines are down. Cell service, too. Lucas checked his phone.
No signal. He tried the landline. Dead. "There has to be something we can do." Victoria said.
Margaret coughed again, the sound wet and painful. "I'm fine. Just a cold." "You're not fine, Mom." "I've had worse."
But she hadn't. Lucas could see it in his father's face. Margaret Hayes was tough, but she was also 62 years old, and this storm was brutal. "We keep her warm." Richard said firmly.
"Keep her hydrated. Ride it out." It was the only option they had. They rearranged again, gave Margaret the warmest spot by the fire, piled blankets on top of her. Eleanor made tea.
Mia brought her favorite stuffed bear. "Here, Mrs. Hayes. He's very warm." Margaret smiled weakly. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Lucas watched his mother shiver under three layers of blankets and felt helpless. This was supposed to be a simple family reunion, a chance to reconnect. Instead, it had turned into a survival situation. He caught Victoria's eye across the room. She looked as worried as he felt.
The day dragged on. Margaret slept fitfully. Richard refused to leave her side. Eleanor kept busy in the kitchen making broth, boiling water. Mia stayed quiet, sensing the tension.
By evening, the fever was worse. Lucas pulled his father aside. "Dad, we need to talk." "Not now, Lucas." "Yes, now.
She needs a doctor." "I know that." Richard snapped. Then softer, "I know. But what do you want me to do?
We're stuck here." "There has to be a way." "There isn't." His father's voice cracked. "We're trapped.
And all I can do is sit here and watch her suffer." Lucas had never seen his father like this. Richard Hayes was a rock, steady, unshakable, but right now he looked lost. She'll be okay, Lucas said, not sure if he believed it. You don't know that.
She's tough. She'll fight through this. Richard nodded, but his eyes were wet. I can't lose her, Lucas. I just found her again.
The words didn't make sense. What? His father looked at him. Your mother and I, we've been having problems for years. We almost divorced.
Lucas felt the ground tilt. What? We kept it quiet. Didn't want to worry you, but things were bad, really bad. Richard glanced back at Margaret.
Eleanor helped us find our way back to each other. She's a therapist. We've been in counseling. I didn't know. We didn't want you to.
Lucas didn't know what to say. His parents, the foundation of his entire world, had been falling apart, and he'd never noticed. Is that why you wanted me here? Lucas asked. The reunion, all of this.
Were you trying to fix things? Yes. Richard ran a hand over his face. I wanted us all together. Wanted to show your mother we could still be a family.
And now she's sick. And now she's sick, Richard echoed. They stood there, father and son, both feeling equally useless. Victoria appeared in the doorway. Lucas, can I talk to you?
He followed her into the kitchen. She closed the door behind them. How bad is it? she asked. Bad.
My dad just told me they almost got divorced. He's terrified he's going to lose her now. Victoria's face softened. I'm sorry. Yeah, me too.
She hesitated. My mother told me something similar about her and your father. Lucas looked up sharply. What? They've been seeing each other for months.
It's serious. The pieces clicked into place. The weekend together, the comfortable familiarity between Richard and Eleanor. The way they looked at each other. They're together, Lucas said slowly.
Actually together? It looks that way. He laughed. Came out bitter. So we destroyed our relationship for nothing.
They're together anyway. Lucas. We gave up everything. Seven years, Victoria. Seven years of staying away from each other, convincing ourselves it was the right thing to do.
And the whole time they were heading here anyway. Victoria's eyes shimmered. I know. Do you? Because I don't think I really understood until right now.