Page 94 of Last Wish Wedding

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “I’ll just need to arrange for Noah.”

“Noah,” Mac repeated, as if just remembering.

“Let me call Amy,” Kelsey suggested gently. “She can bring him for a short visit, then take him for the night.”

Mac nodded gratefully, his attention returning to Truman’s sleeping form.

She stepped into the kitchen to make the call. Amy answered on the second ring.

“How did it go?” she asked immediately. “The hearing?”

“We won,” Kelsey said, the victory feeling strangely distant now. “The judge dismissed their case completely.”

“That’s amazing! I told you—”

“Amy,” she interrupted softly. “Truman is passing. Mac and I are going to stay with him tonight. Could you pick up Noah from school and keep him?”

The line went quiet for a moment. “Of course,” Amy said finally. “Should I bring him by first? To say goodbye?”

Kelsey glanced toward the bedroom and weighed the options. “Maybe for just a few minutes. He should see Truman, but I don’t want to frighten him.”

“I’ll prep him on the drive over,” Amy promised. “And Kels? I’m so sorry. I know how fond you’ve become of him.”

“Thank you,” she managed, her throat tight. “For everything.”

“That’s what sisters are for. We’ll be there in about an hour.”

When Kelsey returned to the bedroom, Mac hadn’t moved. Lauren, the social worker, was preparing to leave, gathering her tablet and notes.

“I’ve left extra resources on the counter,” she told Kelsey quietly. “Information about grief support for both adults and children. And my card, if you need anything at all.”

She thanked her and walked her to the door. When she returned, she found Mac still sitting beside Truman, one hand holding his grandfather’s, the other pressed against his mouth as if physically holding back his sobs.

“Amy’s bringing Noah,” Kelsey said softly, then settled into the chair on the opposite side of the bed. “Just for a short visit, then she’ll take him for the night.”

Mac nodded without looking up. “Thank you.”

The room fell silent except for the whisper of the oxygen and Truman’s labored breathing. Outside, the afternoon sun cast lengthening shadows across the porch, marking time’s passage with silent precision.

“I called the funeral home,” Mac said suddenly. “Last week. Made all the arrangements.”

“That was wise,” she said gently.

“He was very specific about what he wanted. No church service. A wake here at the house. Bagpipes, though where we’ll find a bagpiper on the island…” His voice cracked.

Kelsey reached across Truman to touch Mac’s arm. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

Mac lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes suspiciously bright. “That’s what you said when we got married.”

“It was good advice then too,” she said. A small smile tugged at her lips despite everything.

Mac’s hand turned, capturing hers across his grandfather’s sleeping form. His thumb traced the gold band on her finger, the gesture achingly intimate in the room’s stillness.

“It wasn’t a mistake.” His voice was so low she almost missed it.

“What?” she asked, unsure she’d heard correctly.

His eyes held hers, steady and certain despite the grief hanging over them. “Our marriage. It wasn’t a mistake.”