Page 84 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
“But why?”
“Because we didn’t have the answers she needed, kiddo. We could make her comfortable and make her laugh, but we couldn’t help her remember. If you woke up one day and couldn’t remember me, or Grandpa, or your friends, wouldn’t you do whatever it took to try to get those memories back?”
Asher looked down at my bed sheets. “Yes, but you can’t always remember everything. Sometimes, you can only remember the big things. I don’t remember everything about Mom.”
“It’s impossible to remember everything.”
“I know,” Asher said.
“Do you remember how she always used to smell like cookies?” I asked.
Asher looked up at me and nodded. His frown turned into a smile. “Yes.”
“And how she used to sing you to bed at night?”
“Yes,” he said again, his grin stretching.
“Do you remember how much she used to hate it when I scared her? How she would scream and chase after me? Or how she used to keep a hair tie on her wrist, but somehow never had one when she needed it?”
Asher giggled. “Yes.”
I pulled him in for another hug. “We can’t remember everything, Ash, but we have to hold on to the memories we do have. And Lina deserves to be able to go looking for those memories, right?”
“Right,” Asher said. “And maybe she’ll come back when she finds them, and she can tell us all about it.”
“Maybe,” I said. “And we’ll be here for her if she does.”
Asher beamed at me, and then he jumped off the bed and tugged at the blankets. “Get up, Dad! I’m hungry!”
I laughed. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“All right. Well, how about we both get ready, and we go out for breakfast this morning? What do you say? You feel like pancakes or something?”
“Pancakes! Pancakes! Pancakes!”
I shook my head at my very energetic child, who shot off down the hall to change and brush his teeth. I hopped in the shower, knowing I had only a few minutes of peace before Asher was bound to come back and shout in my ear about pancakes again.
I went as fast as I could, and by the time I was out of the shower and dressed, Asher was back in the hall, running back and forth, shrieking with excitement.
We left within fifteen minutes, and I drove us to our favorite little breakfast diner down the street. The waitress, Tiffany, was a young woman who adored Asher, and she always brought him three coloring sheets and a brand-new box of crayons whenever we came.
She also brought his chocolate milk and my coffee without us having to order.
“What’ll it be this morning, boys?” Tiffany asked as she plucked her notebook from her belt and flipped it open to write our orders down. Asher had his head down and was coloring in the New Year’s themed image in front of him.
I smiled up at her. “A kid’s stack of pancakes for Asher, and the Morning Special for me, please. Thanks, Tiffany.”
“No sweat, Callum. How was your guys’ Christmas?”
Asher looked up. “It was awesome! I got a toy truck, and it goes super fast! And Santa ate all the cookies we left out, and Rudolph ate almost all the carrots. And we got a real Christmas tree and everything.”
“Wow.” Tiffany smiled brightly. “It sounds like you had the perfect Christmas.”
“What about you?” I asked her.
She shrugged one shoulder. “Oh, you know. Same old. Saw some crazy family members I’d been avoiding all year, spent too much money, drank too much wine, and ate too much turkey. But,” she dropped her voice and leaned toward Asher, “Santa was good to me too this year. He got me exactly what I wanted.”
