Page 5 of Forgettable in Every Way

Jack giggled. “What does dashing mean?”

“I’ll tell you what it means.” Simon stood tall and proud and said in his most proper voice, “It means your father was a dapper fellow.”

“Dapper?” Jack scrunched his nose.

Simon realized he wasn’t helping any and needed to relate it to something his son would understand. “I was outstanding like Bluey.” Bluey was Jack’s current favorite show.

Jack grinned the biggest of grins. “I want to be dashing too.”

Simon tapped his nose. “You will be. Now, let us find our treasure.”

Jack wasted no time and dove right into the old boxes, haphazardly emptying their contents onto the floor.

While Jack went through the boxes, Simon checked his old trunk that had seen better days. The latches were loose, and the leather had faded and cracked. It fiercely creaked when he opened it. He peeked inside, and on top was an old brown afghan his gran had crocheted for him when he was a boy. Simon pulled it out and smiled. It smelled faintly like orchids, just like his gran. To his delight, underneath was the treasure he had been searching for.

Simon brushed his fingers across the rough-cut, leather cover, hand sewn with a buckle closure. Jules had obviously spent a considerable amount of money on the album, especially for a college student. It made Simon feel more guilty for not taking the time to properly look through it. He refrained from opening it just yet. Jules’s gentle voice sounded in his head. “I want to tell you something,” she’d said as she handed him the neatly wrapped box containing the photo album. Simon was sure she never got to tell him. Penelope had interrupted their conversation. Why did he suddenly feel as if he had missed out on something important?

Simon held up the photo album for Jack to see. “I found it.”

“Yay!” Jack shouted. “To bed!” he called, pretending to hold up an imaginary sword. “Don’t forget the biscuits,” he added.

Simon laughed and swooped up his son, along with the biscuits and the photo album.

It didn’t take long to get Jack into his pj’s and into bed.

Simon hadn’t had much time yet to set up Jack’s room, but he had put together his vintage oak, twin bed with the perfect-height headboard for resting against while reading stories.

Jack snuggled into his dad.

It was Simon’s favorite time of day. He regretted a lot of things about his marriage to Penelope, but Jack would never be one of them. “Are you ready?” he asked Jack as much as himself.

Jack nodded.

With a deep breath in and out, Simon opened the old album and gaped at the first picture of his twenty-six-year-old self with Jules on the subway. Their heads were leaning toward each other, barely touching. Jules was smiling contently, her indigo eyes shining brightly. She was wearing a smart, camel blazer and jeans. She really was a lovely specimen. Underneath the photo she’d written out in fancy script, Just the Two of Us. The words were from one of Jules’s favorite jazz singers, Grover Washington Jr. It was a love song, if he wasn’t mistaken.

Simon swallowed hard. Those words held new meaning to him. Is this what she wanted to tell him all those years ago, but he hadn’t listened?

“What is the story about?” Jack asked, pointing at the picture. “Who is that pretty lady?”

Simon thought of what story he could tell his son about the quiet woman who had been so kind to him, and whom he could talk to for hours on end. “Um ... That’s Princess Jules. This story is called Princess Jules and the Daft Prince.”

Jack giggled. “You’re not a prince.”

That was certainly true, especially after the way he’d treated his old mate. “Let us pretend, chap.” He kissed Jack’s head and flipped the page to reveal a photo of him under the Broadway theater sign for The Lion King. Jules had made him take a photo under the marquee of every show he wanted a part in. She’d said someday she couldn’t wait to see his name on every one of them. Her caption: I believe in you. Can you believe in me?

Bloody hell, had he really been so blind to her? He remembered not wanting to be in a relationship when he first came to the States so he could focus on his career aspirations, but how had he not noticed her feelings for him?

The photo on the opposite page was of him in a long dress coat and scarf at the top of the Empire State Building, looking out at the night sky. Caption: My favorite Englishman in New York.

“Story, Daddy.”

Simon shook his head, trying to get out of the stupor he was in. “Yes, a story. Once upon a time there was a beautiful and kind princess, Jules of New York. And she rescued a daft prince who forgot his wallet and desperately needed coffee.”

“Why didn’t he drink tea?” Jack asked like a good British boy.

“Well, he did love tea, as all proper princes do, but he’d been up late the night before and he needed the caffeine buzz.”

“Oh,” Jack said, as if that made sense, though he probably had no idea what his dad had just said.

---