Harry got up, went toward the door. The others followed. JJ was slowest, but he got his crutches in order, boosted himself up, and made his way toward where they had all gathered, at the door of the dining room. He almost laughed when he finally came up behind them and saw what had them all gaping. Framed by the massive oak front door, there was his sister, lip-locked to a tall blond soldier who bent over her. The soldier’s one arm was fully around her waist, and the other hand was twined in her hair; she was on her tiptoes and had her arms around his neck. For a moment, everyone just stared.

“I don’t think that’s Ty!” Wilma whispered, finally.

“Elissa Mickelson!” Mary said.

Elissa and the soldier separated as if in slow motion, their faces flushing as he straightened up to his full height, and she turned around to see everyone watching.

“Nick!” said John, his face draining of color.

“Nick? Oh, Nick,” said Wilma, recognition in her voice. Then she turned to John, noticed his pallor. “John! Are you all right?” He nodded, leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

Meanwhile, Jack started forward, apparently bent on defending Elissa’s honor.

The eyes of the maiden in question widened. Her hand was on the soldier’s chest. It was not apparent whether she was pushing him away or trying to shield him.

“Dad, wait,” she said. “Wait, please.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jack barked at the soldier.

Suddenly, the nausea that had been plaguing JJ twisted in his gut, and he doubled over, his crutches at ski pole angle, vomiting up all the maple syrup and waffles he’d just inhaled, acid burning his throat, the pain in his leg spreading like fire up his body as he heaved all over the hallway, everyone dodging the terrible splash of liquid.

“Oh, God,” someone said. JJ, still bent over, squeezed his eyes shut, his shame as searing as his pain.

Later, he would find it remarkable that his sister didn’t so much as hesitate to come to his aid, despite that their father and the tall blond soldier were about to come to blows over her. When he opened his eyes, she was the one who was at his side. She had slid her arms around his waist and was all but holding him up.

“Let’s get him upstairs,” she said.

“We’ll carry him,” said his father. “Come on, Harry.” JJ closed his eyes again.

His father and Uncle Harry carried him between them, his arms draped across their shoulders, their arms bracing his back. He opened his eyes long enough to smile at his mother and grandmother, not wanting them to worry.

I’ve never been gone, he wanted to tell them all.

They carried him through the living room and up the stairs.