Page 48 of Seeing You

“Then I promise to go in later this afternoon and get you cake. For now, I can make you a turkey sandwich, but no bacon.”

“I guess that will work. Boring, but I guess it’s okay. It’s better with bacon. I don’t know how we ran out so fast. I just bought it last week and I know I haven’t eaten much of it…”

“I had some, okay? We both had turkey clubs on Monday when you got home, then I made BLTs for myself yesterday and Tuesday. It’s not a big deal. I’ll put it on the grocery list and we’ll have it tomorrow. I’ll even order extra.”

The only response he got was a shrug, so he turned around and went to the kitchen to make the sandwich.

Only…now all he could think about was cake, dammit. Would it be inappropriate for him to call the Jamesons and ask them to pick up more? Was there a delivery service here in town where he could order it and have it delivered himself?

“Pfft…of course not. This town’s too small for that kind of thing.” Groaning, he pulled the turkey, cheese, and mayo from the refrigerator. “I miss my life.”

And he did, but…so far, they were four days in and he and his father were getting along fine. There was a nurse who came in the morning, and one who came in the evening. It wasn’t necessary to have someone around the clock, but he appreciated the time that they were there. To be honest, he was almost terrified of moving his father and doing anything to hurt him. The scrapes and bruises looked incredibly painful, and the fractured hip and ribs meant you had to be extremely careful whenever his father needed to get up and do anything.

While the nurses were there, Marcus tried to get some work done. Stella had done an incredible job of clearinghis schedule as much as possible, but considering his job was handling people’s investments, he couldn’t be completely incommunicado. That would be incredibly unprofessional, and he prided himself on being the absolute best financial advisor he could be. He was making mid-six figures and, with any luck, that was going to go up by twenty-five percent in the next year. Everything was going according to his current five-year plan, and by the time he retired, he would have a very healthy retirement account.

There was no way he was going to live like his father was—in an outdated home in desperate need of repairs, with his children taking care of him.

That thought stopped him cold.

Because I don’t have any children.

Basically, if anything happened to him, he had…no one.

Looking around, he cursed the fact that they didn’t have any bacon or cake because he really could use them right about now.

Muttering another curse, he made the sandwich and brought it to his father. “Here you go. What can I get you to drink?”

“Some sweet tea.” Pausing, he looked up. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

“Oh, uh…yeah. Sure. Let me go make myself something. I’ll be right back.” All the talk about the bacon made a plain turkey sandwich completely undesirable, so he went with some ham and cheese. Grabbing a bottle of water for himself, and a glass of tea for his father, Marcus balanced it all and walked back to the den.

“Do we have any chips?”

“Seriously, Dad?” he snapped. “You couldn’t have asked while I was still inside?”

“I just thought of it.”

With a huff of annoyance, he went back to the kitchen, grabbed three different bags of chips and strode back to the den,placing them all down within his father’s reach. By the time he sat down, he had to take a moment to relax.

“Do you remember when you and Max were little and eating here in the den in front of the TV was considered a treat?”

The memory instantly came to mind, making Marcus laugh softly. “I do. We used to sit on the floor by the coffee table, and it was either a Disney movie we were watching or one of the holiday specials.”

“She always chose a meal that wouldn’t spill easily or make too much of a mess,” his father said with amusement.

“Grilled cheese,” Marcus remembered. “I remember a lot of grilled cheese sandwiches at the coffee table. Or pizza, if we were really good.” Nodding, he took a bite of his sandwich as memories flooded his mind. “They were never fancy meals, but she always made them feel special.”

“She did that with everything,” his father murmured, his voice gruff. “It didn’t matter if it was just the two of us sitting down to breakfast, or a big Thanksgiving feast. She always put her whole heart into it and made you feel like you were a VIP or something.”

They ate in silence for several minutes.

“Remember the winter when we were without power and we set up this room like we were camping?” Marcus asked. “We made s’mores in the fireplace and roasted hot dogs on sticks…”

“That ended up being the reason we got the bigger generator for the entire house.” But he laughed quietly. “I think we used every sheet and blanket we owned because you and Max each wanted your own tent. It was chaos in here and it took days to do all the laundry once the power came back on.”

More silence.

More memories.

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