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Chapter TwentyZakWe both let Misty sleep and I grab a hot shower before changing into something soft and warm, not wanting to go outside again for the rest of the week if I can help it.
Mark’s done a stellar job in bringing together what Misty and I started. I know he wanted to show off a bit with his cooking skills anyway, and he relishes the chance to set the table and lay everything out just how he likes it. Even though he’s a little slower than usual, at least he’s up and about.
“I’ve set your place, at the head of the table,” Mark casually mentions.
“You don’t have to-” I start, but his hand claps my shoulder again. “No, Zak. I do. And just so you know, it’s forgiven but not forgotten, okay?” he adds.
I know what he means.
Thanks for rescuing my daughter, but no thanks to taking her away from me.
“She’s still your daughter, Mark,” I remind him. “Just from now, she’ll be my-” but his hand is up. It’s still too raw, I can tell.
We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, I guess, but I just can’t help telling him.
“I’m gonna look after her, Mark. Today and every day after, I promise you that. And I’m not asking, I’m telling.”
Mark set his jaw without a word, and we both agree silently.
Like her old man, I’m most thankful for how things panned out, having Misty both alive and in one piece.
It’s a somber, humble vibe between Mark and me, and to be honest I don’t really know how our friendship will fare because of it. But we’re both thankful for that angel sleeping peacefully in the next room.
“Let’s just wait ‘til she wakes up, for dinner I mean,” Mark suggests finally, and I nod gently. He offers me a beer but I shake my head.
I look out from the dining room into the lounge, and my heart gives a start when I don’t see Misty, but the sounds from the bathroom set both mine and her Dad’s minds at ease.
“Now, don’t tell me you waited for me before you got started?” she says, flushed and looking like a woman I’d jump off twenty cliffs for as she curls around the door frame in another robe.
We both stand, and her Dad holds out her seat between both of us and at a glance, I can see just how special today really is, even if one of us didn’t get everything they might have wanted.
But we did. We both got Misty back, and that’s all that counts.
It’s a little awkward to start, but once I insist Mark carves, and the food starts flowing, so does the conversation.
The reasons we all came together today as friends, even if it wasn’t intended for Misty and me to become lovers.
Mark tells me more about his struggles with his back, but his successes as a self-made man of his own kind. He’s built his own securities, a few more properties that don’t include the lake house.
He quizzes me, along with wide and at times, worried eyes from Misty about my exploits in Africa. Not just in the office, but the adventures I’ve had out on safari, hunting with my favorite telescopic… camera.
“I never told you I was a budding photographer, Mark. Might have to have a slide night once my luggage all gets here and I can really bore you all with it.” I chuckle.
“You wouldn’t bore me, Zak,” Mark says with affection and I feel a lump rise in my throat.
Like maybe there is a little forgiveness today after all.
“And it wouldn’t bore me either,” Misty chimes in her hand slipping over mine, making her Dad flush red and look away.
Making me want to make a very special announcement of my own, but Misty’s squeeze on my hand is for a reason, it’s signaling me along with the patient look in her eyes, asking me to wait.
“Just a little,” she whispers in my ear once Mark clears some plates and heads to the kitchen for a refill and prepares to bring back even more food I know we have no room for by the sounds of it.
“But I-” I start, but her sweet lips on mine silence me.
“You already know the answer’s yes, Zak. Just let Dad get used to the idea in his own time,” she says calmly, but her other hand under the table gives something else a squeeze that makes me growl with pleasure, and complete happiness.
“You mean?” I ask again, needing to hear it a thousand times until I’ll be content.
“Yes, Zak. I mean… I do. The answer is always yes with you, my Thanksgiving hero,” she whispers, biting my lips with hers and rubbing me some more under the table before her Dad backs his way in from the kitchen with pumpkin pie and a dessert I never even knew he’d prepared.
