My Holiday Reunion

by Parker, Weston

I lifted my right hand. A heart-rate monitor was clipped to my index finger, and a needle had been shoved into the vein in the back of my hand. I squinted at it, turned my hand around, and then lowered it gently to the bed.

  I looked around the hospital room. Everything was familiar but foreign. I knew the names of things. The use of them. But I didn’t understand my relation to them.

  Why was I here?

  The doctor—what was his name? Dr. Brennan—had told me I’d been in a car wreck and hit my head. He said I was experiencing temporary memory loss, but that didn’t make sense. I had no recollection of a car crash. In fact, I had no recollection of anything before this very moment.

  Of course, that was probably due to the memory loss.

  I sighed and lifted the blankets draped over my waist. I wished there was a mirror here. I didn’t have a clue what sort of state I was in. Or what I even looked like.

  I reached for my hair and held up a strand. Dark brown. All right.

  The handsome man who had called himself Callum came back into my room. I let the strand of hair fall from between my fingers and clasped my hands in my lap. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Lina,” he said. He seemed nervous, like he was walking on eggshells. He came and sat down beside me. “You don’t remember me, huh?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no. Don’t be sorry. It’s all right.” He offered me a smile that set me at ease. I sank into the mattress a little deeper and looked into his kind, blue eyes. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I’ve just spoken with the doctor. He wants to keep an eye on you here for the next couple of days, but then you’ll come home with me.”

  I nodded. “How do we know each other, Callum?”

  His smile still lingered as he looked down at his hands. “Uh. We’ve been friends for a long time. Since childhood, actually. Now you help me with my son, Asher. He’s five. And please, call me Cal.”

  None of that rang a bell, but I nodded anyway. Doctor Brennan had told me everything would sound surreal for a little while, until my memory came back to me. “So I live with you, Cal?”

  “No. Well. Not before. But you’ll stay with me while we get you back on your feet. Does that sound okay to you?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Cal said.

  I had questions. Tons of them. But I was also tired and aching all over. So when Cal asked if I needed anything, I told him I wanted to sleep. He gave me that smile that made me feel safe and told me he’d leave me to rest while he wandered down to the cafeteria to get a shitty sandwich and an even shittier cup of coffee.

  I fell asleep before he even left the room.

  Cal’s car was much fancier than I’d expected when he helped me into it on my release day from the hospital two days after waking up. The doctors had run all their tests and confirmed that I was in good health, except for the memory-loss thing. That was all still a mystery.

  Doctor Brennan and I had had several talks over those two days, where he told me in depth what I should and should not expect. He told me things to look out for: headaches, dizziness, loss of short-term memory, fatigue, loss of appetite, nausea. He also told me things that were good signs. He told me to trust my gut and my emotions. If something felt good, I should do it. He also brought me a plain black leather-bound notebook and told me to jot things down at the end of every day. Then, when I woke up the next morning, I could flip through it and refresh myself and take a moment to see if any memories came back to me.

  Cal was the first thing I wrote about in the journal the very day the doctor gave it to me. Then I wrote about Doctor Brennan and some of my nurses. And the grumpy lunch lady.

  I was wearing a pair of sweatpants that Cal had brought to the hospital for me, along with a long-sleeved gray shirt and a pair of white sneakers. They were all new. I could tell.

  After Cal closed the car door behind me, he walked around the hood of the car. I watched him. He was a good-looking man. All square, dark features and muscle.

  He got into the driver’s seat and turned the car on. “Do you want to stop for anything on the way back to my house? Coffee? Food?”

  I shook my head. “I’m all right, thank you. I had breakfast.”

  “That garbage they have in there is not breakfast. Come on. I’ll take you to one of your favorite drive thru joints, and you can get a breakfast sandwich and a latte.”

  “Do I like those?”

  Cal glanced at me. I couldn’t read his expression. “Yes.”

  I put my seatbelt on and nodded. “All right. Let’s go. Will you be getting coffee and food, too?”

  “I never say no to food.”

  I smiled, and he pulled out of the parking lot. I peered up at the glass structure of the hospital as we drove off, and I gripped the handle on the door panel when we hit the main road.

  Cal must have noticed. “Are you nervous being in the car?”

  I let go of the handle. “No. Sorry. I think it was a reflex.”

  “Let me know if you’re uneasy.”

  “I will.” I stared out the window as we drove through the city. I was hoping something would look familiar, but none of it did. It was all interesting, sure, but none of it stuck out and screamed “Remember me.” It all came and went without leaving anything in its wake.

  Cal turned into a parking lot and went through a drive thru. He ordered for me, and I listened to the kind tone of his voice as he spoke to the woman through the window. They laughed and joked, and she passed him his bag of food. He put it in my lap.

  We drove forward, and he pulled into a parking space. “The one that says bacon on it is yours. Get it while it’s hot.”

  I peered into the bag and drew out the sandwich labelled “bacon”. I unwrapped it from the pale yellow paper and took a bite. It was delicious. And hot. And tasted like maple and egg and cheese and bacon goodness. I closed my eyes and swallowed. “You’re right. This is so much better than the hospital breakfast.”

  He nodded with his mouth full.

  “So, your son,” I said after licking my fingers. “His name is Asher?”

  “Yes. He’s five.”

  We sat and finished eating our breakfast. We sipped our coffees for the rest of the drive, and when Cal pulled into a driveway in front of a two-story home, I was at a loss for words. The property was well-sized for the house and fenced in. The driveway was long, and the house was set back off the street—ideal for someone with a young child.

  When Cal put the car in park, I unbuckled my seatbelt. As I got out of the car, the front door of the house opened, and a very small human came running toward us. I assumed this was Asher.

  He ran straight to Cal and launched himself forward to hug his father around the legs. Cal laughed, a great booming sound of joy that made me smile without knowing why. Then he dropped to a crouch beside Asher and pointed at me. “Ash, this is Lina.”

  Asher was a cute little kid. He looked very much like his father, with dark hair and blue eyes. His features were round though, as most children’s were. When he smiled, I saw a dimple in his left cheek. Cal had the same one. Asher looked up at his father. “I don’t remember her, Dad.”

  I smiled at him. “That’s okay, Asher. I don’t remember you, either. I’ve had a hard time remembering a lot of things lately. So, we can get to know each other again.”

  Asher nodded. His smile still lingered on his lips. “Okay.”

  Cal stood up and ruffled his son’s hair. “Let’s get inside, kiddo. Hurry up.”

  Asher giggled and ran up the driveway to meet up with an older man standing in the front doorway. He lifted a hand and waved at Cal and me as we walked up the driveway.

  When we got to the door, he held out his hand. “Hello, Lina. My name is Nick. I’m Cal’s father.”

  “Hello Nick,” I said. His grip was warm and firm. His palms were calloused. A man who worked with his hands for a living. A laborer. I wondered how I knew that
but had no memories.

  Nick stepped aside, and Cal and I went in the house. The decor was simple and streamlined, and the home was very inviting. It smelled good, like wood polish, lemon cleaner, and cinnamon. As we walked down the hall and into the living room, I became aware of Christmas decorations: a ceramic Santa Claus on the table by the front door, a wreath on the wall, a cluster of wrapping paper propped up against the wall beside the fireplace in the living room. There was no tree, however, just a big open space by the big window in the living room where I assumed one was destined to go.

  Nick wrapped an arm around Asher’s shoulders. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s me and you let your father show Lina to her room.”

  The two of them went into the kitchen, and Cal nodded at the stairs. “Shall we? I had the guest room done up for you.”

  “I could have slept on the couch,” I said. “I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am.”

  “You’re no burden, Lina,” Cal said as he started ascending to the second level. “I promise.”

  Promise. “All right. Thank you.”

  At the top of the stairs, Cal led me down to the end of the hall, where he pushed open a door to reveal a pale blue room with a window that faced out onto the backyard. There were plenty of trees back there that had been dusted in snow. It was beautiful.

  The bed was covered in crisp white sheets and half a dozen pillows. The nightstand hosted an alarm clock and a couple books. I went and picked one of them up. A romance novel.

  Cal chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “You always had your nose buried in one of those. I thought I’d have some here for you to read. Maybe it would help you—I don’t know—connect the dots.”

  I flipped through the pages. “Thank you, Cal. That was thoughtful of you.”

  “The closet is empty for now, but I’m in the process of getting some of your clothes brought here for you. In the meantime, I put some things in the dresser here.” He pulled open the top drawer, revealing a cozy-looking white sweater and a pair of jeans.

  I grinned. “You knew my size?”

  “I guessed.”

  “You have a lovely home.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  I turned to peer through a doorway in the bedroom. It appeared I even had my own private bathroom. I ached for a nice hot shower. “Would it be rude of me to take a shower right now?”

  Cal chuckled and shook his head. “Not at all. Take your time. Everything you might need is in there. There’s a robe on the back of the door. Extra towels are under the bathroom sink. Just let me know if you need anything else.”

  “I will.”

  Cal went back out into the hall and paused with his hand on the door handle. “I’m happy that you’re here, Lina. I know the circumstances aren’t ideal, but we’ll get through this. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  He nodded and left, leaving me standing in the middle of a very beautiful room. I clasped my hands together and looked around. A couple candles had been left around. A box of matches sat on the nightstand beside the alarm clock. The artwork on the walls was sophisticated and simple.

  Cal had done really well for himself. I was lucky to have him looking out for me, lucky to have a home like this to get my senses back.

  As I padded down the hall to the bathroom, I wondered, dimly if I had a home like this somewhere. Was it waiting for me to return? To remember?

  17

  Callum

  I heard Lina start the shower as I stopped outside Asher’s bedroom door and knocked. His little voice called for me to come in, and when I pushed the door open, I found him and my father sitting on his bed, flipping through one of his favorite books. They must have slipped upstairs while I was showing Lina to her temporary bedroom.

  “Hey, guys,” I said, letting the door close softly behind me. “Thank you for making Lina feel welcome. This is a bit weird for her.”

  “Why?” Asher asked, cocking his head to the side with curiosity.

  “Well,” I said, running my hands over my knees as I sat down on his other side. My father and I locked eyes over his head. I sighed. “She was in a car accident, Ash. And she was hurt pretty bad. She doesn’t remember very much of her life before the accident.”

  “Oh,” Asher said. He looked down at the carpet of his bedroom floor. “That makes me sad.”

  “I know. Me too.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him gently into my side. “But the good news is she has us to help her find her way back. She’s going to stay with us for a little while, and it’s very important that we do everything we can to help her. She’ll help out around the house, I’m sure. And we’re going to have to pretend that she has spent time watching you before, Ash.”

  “Like Grandpa?”

  I looked at my father. I couldn’t read the blank expression on his face. “Yeah, Ash. Like Grandpa.”

  “Okay,” Asher said with an affirmative nod. “I can do that.”

  “I knew you’d say that,” I said, knuckling his head gently.

  He swatted at me and giggled before sliding off the bed to sit cross-legged at mine and my father’s feet. My father nodded at me. “Can we talk?”

  “Yeah. Ash, you good here?”

  Ash nodded. He was already immersed in the toy trucks he had on his carpet. My father and I stepped over him and slipped out into the hallway, down the stairs, and to the kitchen.

  My father leaned on the island and watched me grab a bottle of water from the fridge. I unscrewed the cap and drank. When I was done, I put it down and met his gaze. “You disapprove.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I wouldn’t say that, but I am worried. This is thin ice you’re walking on, Callum. Lina is not a part of your life anymore, and you’re bringing her in under your wing. This is probably not the best place for her. She should be where she has the most ties. The most chances to remember.”

  I nodded. “She should be with Kelli and her mother. But Mrs. Rollins has her hands full with Kelli. It’s a mess, Dad. All of it. I’m just trying to help. This will be temporary. If I can’t help, then I’ll let her go.”

  My father nodded. “You should go get her things. That way, she’ll have something that’s hers.”

  “Yeah. Keep an eye on Ash? When she gets out of the shower, maybe make her a cup of tea? She likes it with milk and—”

  “One sugar.” My father smiled. “I know. Go on. I’ve got it from here.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said.

  I grabbed my keys and jacket at the front door and walked back out to my car. My heart was heavy with where I had to go to get Lina’s things: Kelli’s mom’s house. Truth be told, I was afraid to see Kelli. She had been released from the hospital the day before Lina, and her mother hadn’t let me see her.

  I drove straight there. The drive was faster than I wanted it to be. Before I knew it, I was pulling into the driveway and sitting in my car, staring at the beautiful colonial home I used to come to all the time to pick Lina up for dates. I sighed and got out. I had to just get this over with.

  I marched up to the front door, raised my hand, and knocked.

  I heard Mrs. Rollins call on the other side of the door that she would get it. If Kelli answered her, I couldn’t hear it.

  Moments later, the door was pulled open, and a very flustered, very tired looking Mrs. Rollins smiled at me. Her gray hair had come loose from its ponytail. She was wearing a Christmas sweater covered in little trees and reindeer. Gold snowflake earrings winked in her ears.

  “Hi, Cal. I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Now isn’t really a good time. Kelli isn’t in the mood for visitors.”

  I nodded. “I understand. I’m actually here to collect Lina’s things. You said she never really unpacked?”

  Judy shook her head. “No, she didn’t. All her things are still in bags. I can run upstairs to her room and get them for you.”

  “I can go in and carry them for you
,” I offered.

  Judy held up her hand to stop me. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude but,” she lowered her voice and leaned over the threshold to whisper, “you shouldn’t come inside. Kelli is… well, you should just stay out here.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She smiled, but I thought I saw her eyes become glassier before she looked down. “It’s all right. I’ll be right back. You just stay here.”

  “All right.”

  She turned and left, leaving the door open.

  I slid my hands into my pockets and rocked back on my heels. The day was so cold I could see my breath on the air.

  I stepped back off the front step to glance to the left, into the living room. The Christmas tree was standing tall and proud in the middle of the window, just like it did every year. Some of the lights were on constantly, while others blinked slowly, giving the tree the illusion that it was sparkling.

  “What are you doing here?”

  My attention snapped back to the front door.

  Kelli was there. She was in a wheelchair. Her stare was narrowed and tight, focused in on me like she would shoot me with daggers from her pupils if she was able.

  “Hey, Kelli. Sorry. I just came to get Lina’s things.”

  Kelli snorted and crossed her arms. “She’s staying with you, then?”

  I nodded. “She is. Yeah. I didn’t know what else to do. Who else she had—”

  “I don’t care, Cal.”

  I looked at my feet. “Kelli, I’m so sorry.”

  I could feel her stare on me still. “I wish that changed things.”

  “Me too.”

  I looked back up at her. She had a cast on her entire right leg that was only visible at the top and the bottom of the red blanket she had draped over her lap. Her toes peaked out the bottom, showing a candy cane on her big toe. She must have gotten a pedicure recently and decided to get a festive paint job. My heart hurt for her.

  Three fingers on her right hand were in splints. Her neck was in a brace, and she was sitting up perfectly straight. The brace connected to a pole that ran the length of her spine and was secured with screws drilled into her spine to keep her straight. The damage to her lower spine had been so extensive that she lost all control of her legs.