Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

“My son,” Nelson said. “A good man. Stubborn, but good. Such a serious
little boy, but he learned to smile in his own time. Hugo’s mother saw to that.
They were two peas in a pod. I remember the first time he’d told us about
her. He had stars in his eyes. I knew then he was lost to her, though I hadn’t
even met her. I needn’t have worried. She was a marvelous woman, so filled
with hope and joy. But above all else, she was patient and kind. And they
took the better parts of themselves and put them into Hugo. I see them in him,
always.”
“I wish I could have met them,” Wallace said, watching as Alan trailed
after Hugo down the long hallway toward the back deck, Apollo already
barking from outside.
“They would’ve liked you,” Nelson said. “Would’ve given you shit, of
course, but you’d have been in on the joke with them.” He smiled to himself.
“I can’t wait to see them again, to hold my son’s face in my hands and tell
him how proud I am of him. We think we have time for such things, but
there’s never enough for all we should have said.” His glance was sly.
“You’d do well to remember that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Nelson chuckled. “I bet you don’t.” He sobered. “Is there anything you
would say to someone left behind if you could?”
“No one would listen.”
Nelson shook his head slowly. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”
Alan came back inside first. He looked bewildered. Spooked. The tea shop
seemed heavier with his presence, and smaller, as if the walls had started
closing in. Wallace didn’t know if that was him projecting, or if it was
coming from Alan himself. Alan, who Wallace almost felt sorry for as he
turned over another chair and set it up on the table. This whole empathy thing
wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Mei paused, broom in her hand. “All right?” she asked, looking at Alan.
Alan ignored her. He stared at Wallace, jaw dropped. Wallace didn’t like
it. “What?”
“The chair,” Alan said. “How are you doing that?”