Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

Mei made them tea as the rest gathered in the darkened tea shop, moonlight
bathing the forest around them. Hugo sat in a chair, bandana in his lap (black
with little yellow ducks), looking around the tea shop with a quiet smile on
his face.
Mei brought the tea tray out, setting it on the table. The scent of chai filled
the room, thick and heady. Hugo poured tea for each of them, the cups filled
to the brim. He handed them each a cup, setting a bowl down on the floor for
Apollo, who began to lap at the liquid frantically. Wallace couldn’t bring
himself to drink from his own cup, worried his hands would shake too much.
“This is nice,” Hugo said as Mei sat next to him. He had yet to comment
on his grandfather’s appearance. He’d looked momentarily stunned when
he’d seen Nelson as he was now, but had quickly covered it up. Wallace
knew he was waiting for Nelson to bring it up. “We should do this more
often. Just us, at the end of the day.” He looked at each of them in turn, smile
fading when his gaze found Wallace, who failed miserably in his attempt to
school his expression. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Wallace cleared his throat and said, “Nothing. It’s nothing. I—”
“Hugo,” Nelson said, a thin line of chai on his upper lip. “My dear Hugo.”
Hugo looked at him.
And just like that, he knew.
Empathetic almost to a fault.
Hugo set his cup down on the table.
He closed his eyes.
He said, “Grandad?” in a small voice.
“It’s time,” Nelson said. “I’ve lived a long life. A good life. I’ve loved.
I’ve been loved in return. I made something out of nothing. This place. This
tiny tea shop. My wife, my heart. My children. And you, Hugo. Even when it
became just the two of us, I held on as tightly as I could. I worried that I
wouldn’t be enough, that you wanted more than I could give you.”
“I didn’t,” Hugo croaked. “I didn’t want anything else.”
“Perhaps not,” Nelson agreed gently. “But you’ve found it all the same.
You’ve found it in Mei and Wallace, but even before them, you were already
on your way. You’ve built this life, this wonderful life with your own hands.
You took the tools I gave you and made them your own. What more could a
man ask for?”