Must-Have Husband

Junior said in his best booming voice. “May I present…the birthday boy!”
    People clapped and cheered as Connie’s grandpa did a small pirouette in his wheelchair, grinning broadly.
    “I thought he was very ill?” Mac whispered to Connie.
    “It comes and goes,” she whispered back.
    “You’ll see what she means,” Linda added.
    To Mac’s surprise, Elizabeth silenced the crowd with her celebratory pronouncement. “And now, in keeping with the way in which the birthday boy likes to run his parties, let’s all have a little cake and ice cream!”
    “Granddad always has dessert before dinner on his birthday,” Ollie explained. “He figures it’s the one day he can do what he wants.”
    “Yeah, and all of the rest of us get to join him,” Beau quipped.
    Linda elbowed her husband. “Be nice. You know you enjoy having the cake first just as much as he does. Besides, nobody’s forced to eat it. You can always save yours for later.”
    Before Mac knew it, a huge, tiered cake was being rolled out onto the floor on a movable table. Rather than having candles on top, it was adorned by dozens of dancing sparklers, hissing merrily with all their might beneath a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday.” Grandpa Oliver’s face lit up in a big, broad smile as he plucked a sparkler off the cake and began waving it around like a maestro directing his orchestra, just in time to conduct the crowd in singing “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow.”
    Then, halfway through the second chorus, the old man glanced their way, staring straight at Connie. Within seconds, he’d doubled over, dropping his sparkler to the floor and breaking into a prolonged coughing fit. The room fell silent as nurses scrambled to assist him. Elizabeth dug in her purse for her smartphone, preparing to call 9-1-1. Connie and Linda were about to rush forward when their grandpa slowly raised his right hand, bringing himself under control.
    “I’m all right,” he told his worried daughter-in-law before glancing once again at Connie. “For now.”
    Mac pulled the handkerchief that Ollie had loaned him from his pocket to wipe his brow. And he thought there was excitement in the wild. None of his adventures in the great outdoors had anything on this.
    Linda turned toward Mac with a knowing look. “See what I mean?” she asked.
    Mac tucked away his hanky and took another sip of champagne. “I think I’m starting to get it.”
    “Come on,” Connie told him. “It’s time you met my grandfather.”
    “You mean right now?”
    “No time like the present,” she said, tugging him forward.

    Mac didn’t know why he felt nervous about meeting the octogenarian, but somehow the looming encounter set him slightly on edge. Maybe it was those inward seeds of guilt about deceiving this family that had bloomed the moment he’d stepped through the palatial front door. Or maybe it was the scowl on the old man’s face as he lowered his dark-rimmed glasses and appraised Mac with a frown.
    “Grandpa!” Connie proclaimed, leaning down to plant a kiss on his head while she squeezed his shoulders in a hug. “You don’t look a day over sixty.”
    He coughed once into his balled-up fist. “I wish I felt that on the inside.”
    Connie grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and pivoted him toward Mac. “I’d like you to meet my new fiancé, Mac.”
    Grandpa hacked again. “ New fiancé? What happened to the old one?”
    Connie hung her head. “He got away,” she said softly.
    “Speak up, granddaughter! Can’t hear you above the commotion!”
    The band played on as servers bustled about the room, depositing cake and ice cream at the various place settings.
    “I said, Walt left me!” she shouted louder.
    Wendell Senior raised his brow. “Left you? What a dolt that one was.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Never liked him anyway.” He turned his eyes on Mac and studied him from the top of his hairy head all the way down the too-tight lines of his suit and landing at his hiking boots. “Hmm,” he said, adjusting his glasses to get a better look. “Uh-hum.” He returned his gaze to Mac’s. “And just what is it that you do, young man?”
    “Well, sir, I—”
    “He runs his own business,” Connie shared.
    Mac glanced at her, then continued to address Wendell Senior. “Yes, sir, a camping store. I mean, I did. That was before it—”
    “You don’t need to bore Grandpa with the details,” Connie chirped.
    “Did he say camping