“What makes you think he doesn’t want you here?”
“You were there. You heard him.”
“I heard him snapping at everyone as he always does when he’s stressed. I didn’t hear anything that made me think he wanted you to leave.”
“Then maybe you weren’t concentrating. He told me to go. Ordered me. And if it’s stress that caused his heart attack, then I’m adding to that stress by being here. The best way I can help him is by leaving.”
Her foot tapped on the deck. “You are going back to Boston?”
“Tomorrow.” He saw her eyes narrow dangerously and assumed she was worried about her party. “Don’t worry. I’ll finish your deck first.”
“Putain.” She spat out a swearword and those eyes blazed, her anger matching his. “So you’ll leave them? When your family needs you most? That is not what O’Neils do!”
“Don’t throw guilt on me. I’m already drowning in it.” Sean came right back at her, his temper fueled by an evening of holding back. “I’m doing what Gramps wants.”
“You are supposed to be so intelligent but sometimes I think you are a great big stupid person. Today I chopped liver that has more brain than you. It isn’t because he doesn’t want you here. The two of you, you are both so stubborn, neither of you will back down. I could smash your stupide heads together were it not for the fact that Walter is already enough injured.”
“Injured enough.”
“Are you correcting my English?” Élise’s tone was dangerous but for some reason her words shattered the tension and made him want to smile.
“No.”
“Yes, you were. Well let me tell you this, Dr. O’Neil—” it was clear that her emphasis on the Dr. wasn’t supposed to be complimentary “—I may have my words the wrong way around, but my thinking is straight which is more than can be said for you.”
“Gramps is recovering just fine. He doesn’t need me here.”
An owl hooted in the darkness but neither of them heard it.
“Look beneath the surface! Sometimes people don’t always tell the truth about their feelings. You are a doctor! You should know that. And what about dear Alice? She ’as not slept since her beloved Walter was taken into hospital and now she will not sleep because he is at home and she is worried.” Her accent grew thicker as her temper rose. “And what about your mother? She is worrying about Walter and Alice and now also she is worrying about you because she sees you are hurt by this rift with your grandfather and you are her baby.”
Sean lifted his eyebrows. “Do I look like a baby?”
“I am not talking about your height or your muscles. To a mother, her child is always a baby. She is divided, no? She is being pulled by Walter and pulled by you and—” She gave up on English entirely and switched to French but he understood her perfectly so the change in language offered him no respite from the fierce burn of her temper. “And what about Jackson? He is working so hard already, you think he has time to watch over Walter, too, while you storm off in a sulk?”
“I am not sulking.” Sean’s own temper sparked. “And if Jackson wants me here, he can say so.”
“But he won’t. Because he is your brother and he loves you and he knows how hard it is for you to be here.” Muttering to herself, she turned away and paced across the finished portion of the deck and back again. “Think, Sean. Think. Ignore your bruised feelings and use your brain.”
“This isn’t about my feelings.”
“You’re hurt because you think your grandfather doesn’t want you here, but that isn’t what is going on!”
“You don’t understand what is going on.” His own emotions dangerously close to the surface, he dragged his hand through his hair. “There was a row. We had a row.” It was the first time he’d told anyone and he saw her frown.
“With Walter there will always be rows. It is in his nature to provoke.”
“This was different.” His mouth was dry. Why the hell was he telling her this? “It was at my father’s funeral. I said things—”
“What things?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Remembering it still made him feel sick. The ocean of grief, the agony of missing his father, the desperate need to wind back time and do things differently, and the blame. Always the blame. “But I can tell you that is the reason he doesn’t want me here. He’s angry with me. And he has reason to be.” And he was still angry with his grandfather.
He knew he should let it go, but he couldn’t.
It simmered. Festered. The surgeon in him wanted to cut it out but because that wasn’t possible he’d learned to live with it.
Élise frowned and shook her head. “I am glad you told me because now I understand a little bit more, but the reason he wants you to leave has nothing to do with your argument.”