Nell accepted the cup of tea Megan had prepared, then sighed. “I hate to admit it,” she said eventually, “but you are right about one thing. This may be getting to be too much for me.”
The admission itself was less of a surprise than the fact that Nell had made it. Megan had never heard her mother-in-law acknowledge that she was getting older. It also wasn’t like Nell not to criticize the shortcut Megan had taken with the tea, using teabags rather than the loose tea Nell preferred. She was clearly not herself, which worried Megan more than ever.
“Well, it’ll be a while before we have this kind of family holiday celebration again,” Megan told her, choosing her words carefully. “Not that Sunday dinners are any less chaotic. How would you feel about cutting back on those, maybe only having them once a month?”
“Heavens, no!” Nell said at once, looking dismayed. “That’s not a tradition I intend to break. I like having everyone around this table. And I think it keeps the younger ones grounded, reminds them that family’s important.”
“Okay,” Megan said, backing off at once. Truthfully, she agreed—she just didn’t like seeing Nell looking so worn out. She phrased her next suggestion even more cautiously. “But why don’t we put our heads together before the next one and come up with a new approach, something that’s less demanding of you?”
Nell looked skeptical. “Such as? Don’t tell me you want to split the family up and let everyone do their own thing? Didn’t I just say no to that?”
“Actually, I was thinking that we’d host the meals here, as usual. You could prepare one of the family’s favorites, like your pot roast or corned beef and cabbage, and then everyone else could bring a dish.”
Nell looked horrified. “Pot luck suppers are for church, not family gatherings.”
Megan persisted, despite Nell’s strenuous objections. “You said yourself not long ago that everyone needs to start learning how to make your specialties. Don’t you think this would be the ideal way to teach them? Give each one of the grandchildren a recipe, then spend some time teaching them how to make it. They should be involved in the preparations for these family occasions.”
After her initial negativity, Nell looked faintly intrigued. “That would give me a chance to see a bit more of these busy young women,” she conceded, her expression thoughtful. “I can’t tell you the last time I had a few minutes alone with Abby, now that she’s always running off to that office of hers in Baltimore. And Jess may be right up the street, but the inn takes most of her time. As for Bree, she has her theater and her flower shop now and a baby on the way. Her time will soon be at a premium. It would be nice if I could be sure of carving out a bit of alone time with each of them.”
“Exactly,” Megan said, sensing triumph. “And I’ll handle getting the house ready for all the company, since we’re agreed I’m hopeless in the kitchen.”
“We’ve agreed to no such thing. You are not hopeless,” Nell chided. “In fact, next Sunday I’m going to devote myself to teaching you to make my pot roast. That was always Mick’s favorite. Thomas’s, too. Jeff, he prefers my roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy. I’ll show his wife the secret to getting the gravy just right.”
“Then you like the idea of passing on your recipes to the next generation?” Megan asked.
“I do, as long as no one starts thinking I’m getting old and frail and starts treating me as if I’m on my last legs,” Nell said with renewed spirit.
Megan grinned at her. “No one would dare. You’ve plenty of life left in you, Nell. We’re all in awe of you.”
“Then I suppose I can’t let you down,” Nell said, standing. “Let’s get this food on the table. I think I’ve worked up an appetite. That’s a rarity these days.”
Megan noted that her color had returned and her eyes were bright once more. She’d have to remind all the others—very discreetly, of course—that Nell wasn’t invincible. They needed to look for subtle ways to take over for her without making her feel for one single second that she was no longer needed. Because the truth was, Nell had always been the glue that held the O’Briens together.
* * *
As everyone was coming inside for Easter dinner, Heather sought out Megan.
“I hate to make a big deal out of this, but please do not make me sit beside Connor,” she pleaded.
Megan regarded her first with surprise, then understanding. “No problem. You’ll sit at the other end of the table by me,” she said at once, then added wryly, “That’ll guarantee Connor doesn’t join you.” Megan gestured to a chair between hers and Nell’s. “Here you go,” she said.
When Connor came inside and spotted Heather at the far end of the table, he frowned, but he made no attempt to join her. He took a seat between his cousin Susie and her brother Matt.
Once grace had been said and the food passed around the table, Megan set down her fork and regarded Heather closely. “Did something happen earlier? Did you and Connor have an argument?”
Heather shook her head.
“Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it,” Megan reminded her. “I’m Connor’s mother, but I’d like to think that you and I are becoming friends.”
“Not here and definitely not now,” Heather said, forcing a bright smile. She deliberately turned to Connor’s grandmother. “The ham is absolutely delicious,” she told her.
Nell patted her hand. “Thank you, my dear. Connor’s always loved my baked ham. Would you like me to teach you how to make it?”
Heather knew what she was doing, making an assumption that Heather would someday need to know how to
