Page 32 of His One True Wish

“Also, let’s add a little splash of something to our coffee.” I reached above the stove, opened the liquor cabinet, and took out the big bottle of Baileys. “How about a little Irish sweetness?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Billie poured herself a shot. She took a sip and closed her eyes, a smile crossing her face. “Delicious.”

“Now aren’t you glad you didn’t throw that bottle at me, too?”

She gave me a sly smile as Cam began to whine.

“Your dog has to pee.”

“I’ll let her out, she can leap over the snow” I opened the door, Cam took about two steps, squatted, peed, and bounded back into the house, shaking snow from her paws.

“Here’s to the world’s smartest dog,” Billie said, toasting me with her sweetened coffee.

There was nothing else to do, so I took my time making breakfast. I fried up sausages, onions, peppers, and sautéed everything in butter. I added half-and-half to the eggs and poured them into a buttery pan.

“It smells delicious,” Billie said. She picked up one of my flying magazines and started to work on a crossword puzzle. “Four letter word for first airline in Alaska.”

“W-E-I-N,” I said, pouring the vegetables over the eggs and adding cheese.

“Weird word.” She shook her head, writing it down.

“Not weird. Wein.”

She didn’t ask me for any other hints, though I could see shewasn’t even halfway done with the puzzle. She kept pausing to peer out the window to check the snow.

“How did you sleep?” I asked her, treading lightly. I wanted to know if she remembered anything. Did she know what she’d said to me as I tucked her into bed?

“Why?” She looked up from her magazine, eyes narrowing. “Did I wake up last night? I’m remembering something.”

“You did wake up,” I said slowly.

“Did I say something weird?”

“No,” I said, lying. If she didn’t remember, I wasn’t going to tell her. What good would that do? We were just starting to get along. “The outside shutter at the end of the hall broke loose and was banging against the house. It was really loud, so I closed it, and you woke up.”

“I kind of remember that,” she said quietly, her eyes narrowing. “I thought I dreamed it.”

“You did not.”

“Wait, did I crash into you?” She pointed to me, her eyes still narrow as if she were trying to mentally reconstruct a crime scene.

“Just for a second. I am a pretty tough guy. You didn’t injure me. You said something about the window opening at home.”

“Yeah, it did. Same thing happened before I came up here. I was in Gran’s room … ” Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip. “Anyway, never mind. Sorry I bumped into you, and thanks for fixing it.”

Billie didn’t seem to remember anything beyond the shutter breaking loose. I supposed that was a good thing, but my mind could not un-hear her confession.

You make me wet.

I flipped the enormous omelet for a second time to make sure it was evenly cooked. I sliced it in half and plated them both, setting one half in front of Billie.

“Your breakfast is served,” I said, changing the subject.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, sitting down. “Let’s eat and give the snowsome time to stop, then we’ll head out there and see how bad it is. If the wind chill goes away, it won’t be nearly as dangerous.”

“Okay,” she said, sighing.

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