Page 54 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
She smiled. “I like that.”
I didn’t tell her that she was the one who used to tell me that every year. My mother had died when I was young, just two months before Christmas, so it became a sad time of the year for my father and me, and for the longest time, we were incapable of making it happy again. Lina knew I used to get down during the holidays, but she never gave up hope on me. She insisted that we could honor my mother by upholding the traditions she had started for my family.
That was why I hung the stockings on Christmas Eve. It was why I got a real tree when buying a fake one and keeping it in a box all year long was way easier. It was why, on Christmas morning, I would put my mother’s famous breakfast soufflé in the oven while we opened our stocking stuffers.
“What are you thinking about?” Lina asked, hugging my arm a little tighter.
It felt good having her wrapped around me like this. Familiar. “Just the holidays. Memories. Christmas is a special time, don’t you think?”
She nodded. “I think so. And I don’t even remember any of the Christmases I’ve had.”
I patted her gloved hand on my arm. “You will.”
We rounded the corner of an office tower building, and the market came into view. Lina breathed in a gasp of awe as her eyes lit up with the reflection of hundreds of thousands of Christmas lights. She stopped walking, and I stopped beside her.
I chuckled. “You know, it’s better inside.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Come on. Let me show you.”
She let me pull her toward the entrance, where children dressed as elves greeted us, handed us schedules for the evening, and offered us the option of a hot cider or hot chocolate. We both opted for cider, which steamed in our hands and smelled like apples as we moved into the market.
Booths set up in lines created aisles for us to walk through. People were selling homemade decorations ranging from ornaments, to knit throws, to pillow covers. One booth that had been there annually for at least twenty years sold beautiful handmade jewelry. Lina paused to look things over, and had things not been strange, and muddled, and all messed up by this memory-loss thing, I would have bought something for her.
But things were strange, so we moved away from the booth of sparkly earrings and necklaces, and I bought her a cinnamon roll instead. We stood and ate them in front of the stage, where carolers sang versions of “Silent Night” and “Jingle Bells”. By the third song, Lina was swaying back and forth.
We moved away from the carolers and continued walking through the market at a slow, steady pace. We stopped for a refill of ciders and then carried on.
Lina glanced over at me. “Cal? Can I ask you something? I apologize in advance if it sounds weird.”
“You can ask me anything. Don’t worry about how it sounds.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Did we, you know, used to date when we were younger?”
I nodded. “Yeah. We were together for about two years. Our final years of high school.”
She nodded and sipped her cider, careful not to burn her tongue. “I thought so. And…” She paused and shook her head before laughing at herself. “I’m sorry. I’m almost embarrassed to ask it out loud.”
“Don’t be. You’re figuring things out. You have to ask.”
She sighed and looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “Is Asher my son?”
I smiled and shook my head. “No.”
She almost seemed disappointed, and then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin a little. “I didn’t think so, but I had to be sure. Then, his mother?”
“She passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry, Cal.”
“It’s all right.” She watched her feet as we walked, and I could read her like a book. Her mood had shifted. Disappointment had set in. “None of this is stirring up any memories for you, is it?”
Lina lifted her head and looked around at all the lights and all the people. Children were running between their parents’ legs and laughing gleefully. It was nearly eight in the evening. Soon, they would be heading home, where they would be anxiously trying to fall asleep so that Santa could come and go.
“Nothing is familiar,” she said. “Not even my own reflection. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror for fifteen minutes this morning just staring at myself. It’s so… odd. To look at yourself and see a stranger.” She shook her head, but a smile played in the corners of her mouth. “All I know is I’m really grateful for you and your family. I don’t know what I would do without you, Cal.”
“I’ll be here for as long as you need me,” I said. And I meant it. But the guilt started to swirl inside me again. I was going to have to come clean with her sooner rather than later. Her life in New York might mean more to her than this world did. It might help her remember better than I could. “Hey, I have one more surprise for you.”
