Snowbound with Her Hero

Today she could admit the truth to herself. If he hadn’t died, she knew deep inside she would have ended up in Breckenridge and a divorce would have followed. What was the old adage? Dignity in death, disgrace in divorce? It was an awful saying. In both cases there was loss. Period.

Raoul went inside the hospital room ahead of the others. He saw a new addition to all the flowers since he’d last been in here. A beautiful Christmas red poinsettia had been delivered. The get-well card was from Crystal’s parents. Jules would be touched.

His thoughts flew to Philippe. He knew it would frighten him to see his graying grandfather on oxygen with an IV in his arm. In the last few weeks he’d lost ten pounds with the flu. His gaunt appearance made him look closer to seventy than sixty-five.

The doctor couldn’t account for Jules getting so ill at his age, but they both agreed the two deaths in the family had probably been too much for him. Despite all his hard work, he was a family man through and through and lived for his children. Eric’s death had robbed him of his joie de vivre. If anyone could bring it back, it would be Philippe, who had certain mannerisms and features inherited from his father.

“Papa?”

“Ah, Raoul. You’ve been gone so long.” He grasped his hand and wept.

It killed him to see his father like this. “I’ve brought someone with me. Are you up for company?”

His eyelids fluttered open to half mast. “Bien sûr,” he murmured in a voice half as strong as normal.

“I’ll be right back.”

He hurried over to the door and opened it. Three worried pairs of eyes fastened on him. “How is he?” his mother asked.

“He’s awake.”

“Can I see him?” Philippe whispered.

“What do you think?” He reached for his nephew’s hand and they walked over to the left side of the bed. Crystal and his mother followed and stood on the right. Raoul was surprised Philippe didn’t flinch at all the tubes.

“Hi, Grand-père. It’s me.”

Again his father’s eyelids opened, alert to a new voice in the room. “Me, who?”

Philippe giggled. “You know who I am.” In case Jules couldn’t see him well, Raoul lifted him in his arms.

His father’s gray-blue eyes swerved to his grandson before glazing over with tears. “Ah … my boy, my boy. Come closer and give your grand-père