Page 62 of As You Ice It

Understanding passes over her face, then something a little sadder. “So, you just … play along?”

“Basically. He’s able to make some sense of things, even if he’s mixing up the present and the past in the same conversation. When he runs into a wall, like things that he can’t make sense of or remember?—”

“Like the photos on his phone?” she asks.

“Exactly. He gets agitated. The doctor said it’s fine to just go along with most things, unless it comes down to a safety issue. Most of the time, he thinks I’m back in high school, living with his family.”

“Ah. This is the complication you had at home,” she says, and I appreciate her putting the pieces together from our conversation at the Summit.

“Yes.”

“He’s not just visiting, is he?” she asks.

I shake my head slowly. “He moved in with me a little over a month ago.”

“He doesn’t have any family?”

“Mike had an affair a few years after I left,” I say bluntly. “Debbie divorced him and remarried. I’m not sure his daughter, Lisa, ever forgave him. She was in college while I was living with them, so we weren’t close, but once she found out about Mike’s condition, she called to let me know. I don’t think she expected me to want him to come live with me. But when she said she was planning to put him in a home, I just couldn’t live with that.”

“The woman you were interviewing was another caretaker?”

I grimace. “So she said. I’ve switched services and think I have a few good options lined up. Jordan handles the day-to-day, but I need a few other people for away games.”

Naomi is quiet, and I can’t tell if she’s quiet because she disapproves of my choice or because she pities Mike. I just have no idea. Lisa made it clear she doesn’t think this is a good idea long-term. And maybe she’s right.

The waiter returns then with our cappuccinos and Naomi’s cheesecake. As soon as he’s gone, Naomi reaches across the table, clutching my hand. I go still.

Her touch makes me realize how tense I’ve become. As she brushes her thumb over the back of my hand, tension lifts from my body, a fog burned off by her brightness.

“Mike was right about you, Cam. You are a very decent guy.”

My throat works, but I can’t swallow or manage words to answer, so I just nod.

Naomi drops my hand and pops a bite of cheesecake into her mouth with a smile. I’m distracted by the tiny smudge of chocolate in the corner of her mouth as she says, “Too bad about the dancing and singing or you might just be the total package.”

* * *

After I answer more of Naomi’s questions about Mike and we finally leave the bistro, I manage to redeem the date that really wasn’t a date.

Or, rather, the weather redeems it for me.

“It’s snowing,” Naomi says, halting on the sidewalk. She tips her face up to the soft gray sky, closing her eyes as fat snowflakes drift around her, caching in her hair and lashes.

She smiles, eyes still closed, then just the tip of her tongue peeks out, catching a few flakes.

“Guess you don’t see too much of this,” I say, shamelessly watching her mouth until she opens her eyes and I meet her gaze.

“No, we don’t. This is …” She shakes her head. “I was going to say magical, but I’m not that cheesy.”

But it is kind of magical. Especially seeing the way the flakes land in her hair and on her shoulders, tiny white flecks that almost immediately melt and disappear.

“Maybe the occasion warrants it,” I tell her.

When she smiles up at me, her eyes are soft. “Maybe it does.”

I reach into my coat pocket, hesitating for a moment when my fingers brush soft fabric. I’m as nervous as I’ve ever been around a woman to pull out the scarf I’ve kept hidden through this whole lunch, unsure when the right time would be.

“I got you something,” I say, sounding every bit as awkward as I feel. Pushing through, or perhaps pushing aside, the feeling, I step closer to Naomi and drape it around her shoulders, lifting her hair as I secure it around her neck. My fingertips brush the soft skin of her throat, and I hear a catch in Naomi’s breath. Not quite, but almost a gasp.

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