Page 42 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
Cal turned into a parking lot and went through a drive thru. He ordered for me, and I listened to the kind tone of his voice as he spoke to the woman through the window. They laughed and joked, and she passed him his bag of food. He put it in my lap.
We drove forward, and he pulled into a parking space. “The one that says bacon on it is yours. Get it while it’s hot.”
I peered into the bag and drew out the sandwich labelled “bacon”. I unwrapped it from the pale yellow paper and took a bite. It was delicious. And hot. And tasted like maple and egg and cheese and bacon goodness. I closed my eyes and swallowed. “You’re right. This is so much better than the hospital breakfast.”
He nodded with his mouth full.
“So, your son,” I said after licking my fingers. “His name is Asher?”
“Yes. He’s five.”
We sat and finished eating our breakfast. We sipped our coffees for the rest of the drive, and when Cal pulled into a driveway in front of a two-story home, I was at a loss for words. The property was well-sized for the house and fenced in. The driveway was long, and the house was set back off the street—ideal for someone with a young child.
When Cal put the car in park, I unbuckled my seatbelt. As I got out of the car, the front door of the house opened, and a very small human came running toward us. I assumed this was Asher.
He ran straight to Cal and launched himself forward to hug his father around the legs. Cal laughed, a great booming sound of joy that made me smile without knowing why. Then he dropped to a crouch beside Asher and pointed at me. “Ash, this is Lina.”
Asher was a cute little kid. He looked very much like his father, with dark hair and blue eyes. His features were round though, as most children’s were. When he smiled, I saw a dimple in his left cheek. Cal had the same one. Asher looked up at his father. “I don’t remember her, Dad.”
I smiled at him. “That’s okay, Asher. I don’t remember you, either. I’ve had a hard time remembering a lot of things lately. So, we can get to know each other again.”
Asher nodded. His smile still lingered on his lips. “Okay.”
Cal stood up and ruffled his son’s hair. “Let’s get inside, kiddo. Hurry up.”
Asher giggled and ran up the driveway to meet up with an older man standing in the front doorway. He lifted a hand and waved at Cal and me as we walked up the driveway.
When we got to the door, he held out his hand. “Hello, Lina. My name is Nick. I’m Cal’s father.”
“Hello Nick,” I said. His grip was warm and firm. His palms were calloused. A man who worked with his hands for a living. A laborer. I wondered how I knew that but had no memories.
Nick stepped aside, and Cal and I went in the house. The decor was simple and streamlined, and the home was very inviting. It smelled good, like wood polish, lemon cleaner, and cinnamon. As we walked down the hall and into the living room, I became aware of Christmas decorations: a ceramic Santa Claus on the table by the front door, a wreath on the wall, a cluster of wrapping paper propped up against the wall beside the fireplace in the living room. There was no tree, however, just a big open space by the big window in the living room where I assumed one was destined to go.
Nick wrapped an arm around Asher’s shoulders. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s me and you let your father show Lina to her room.”
The two of them went into the kitchen, and Cal nodded at the stairs. “Shall we? I had the guest room done up for you.”
“I could have slept on the couch,” I said. “I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am.”
“You’re no burden, Lina,” Cal said as he started ascending to the second level. “I promise.”
Promise. “All right. Thank you.”
At the top of the stairs, Cal led me down to the end of the hall, where he pushed open a door to reveal a pale blue room with a window that faced out onto the backyard. There were plenty of trees back there that had been dusted in snow. It was beautiful.
The bed was covered in crisp white sheets and half a dozen pillows. The nightstand hosted an alarm clock and a couple books. I went and picked one of them up. A romance novel.
Cal chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “You always had your nose buried in one of those. I thought I’d have some here for you to read. Maybe it would help you—I don’t know—connect the dots.”
I flipped through the pages. “Thank you, Cal. That was thoughtful of you.”
“The closet is empty for now, but I’m in the process of getting some of your clothes brought here for you. In the meantime, I put some things in the dresser here.” He pulled open the top drawer, revealing a cozy-looking white sweater and a pair of jeans.
I grinned. “You knew my size?”
“I guessed.”
“You have a lovely home.”
