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“You can get the salad out of the refrigerator.”
“You do realize that a salad blows the whole bachelor mac and cheese image to bits.”
The grin he graced me with was infectious. After he scooped mac and cheese onto plates, we sat on bar stools at the counter.
I took a bite and released a contented sigh. “I haven’t had macaroni and cheese in ages. It was my favorite when I was a kid. My mother used to make it for me, so it’s full of happy memories.” It was nice to have a happy memory associated with my mother after thinking about her death so much. I took another bite. “What was your favorite?”
He laughed, his eyebrows arching. “There’s not a bloody chance in hell that I’ll tell you.”
His protest made me even more intrigued. “Why the big secret?” I shoved his arm. “I told you, now you tell me.”
He cringed, but he was grinning. “I thought that game was usually played with the removal of clothing.”
“Ha! Come on, just tell me. How weird can it be? What, did you eat liver with ketchup? Are youashamed?”
He lifted his chin, trying to look serious. “It was spotted dick.”
I started laughing, noodles shooting out of my mouth. “It waswhat?” I choked out.
“See? I knew this would be your reaction. You Americans wouldn’t know good food if it bit you on the arse.”
“Do I even want to know what spotteddick—”I broke into more giggles “—is?”
“It’s a bread pudding with currants.” He smirked. “Do you think I was raised by paedos?”
“Sorry, I’ll try to be morecivilized.”
He poured more wine into our glasses, and we shared stories of our childhoods. As I watched him tell me about all his antics with his older brother, I smiled, but my heart ached. Why couldn’t I have met this man before all this curse nonsense began? He was so much better for me than Collin ever could be.
But there was no point in dwelling on what-ifs. There was only the here and now.
We cleaned up the kitchen together, and when we finished, David hung a dish towel on the stove handle.
“Okay, Ellie. Let’s figure this out. What was your father’s routine?”
“He spent a lot of time in the living room watching TV with his caregiver. And he loved the front porch. He liked to watch the neighbor’s dog, Chip.” The thought of Chip still gave me a pang.
“That’s a bloody good place to start. We’ll check out the lounge and see—”
“The lounge?” I could figure out most of his British lingo, but this one was unclear.
He made a face. “What you would refer to as the living room. Americans need to learn to be more civilized.”
I stood on tiptoe so that we were face-to-face. “And look where you moved to.”
“The land of the uncivilized. Who knew it was still the wild frontier?”
“Very funny. Besides, you’re half American and you’re fascinated with the Native Americans. I’d think you’d like it that way.”
He grinned mischievously. “I like some things wilder than others.”
I ignored the obvious subtext as he followed me into the living room. I pointed out the chair and ottoman where my father had liked to sit.
David sat down and looked around, lifting a lamp and looking underneath it. He stood and turned around, removing the cushions from the chair.
I got on my knees and looked under the coffee table, shocked to find a folded paper stuffed into the cracks of two seams on the underside. “I think I actually found something.”
David knelt next to me as I pulled out the paper and opened it. Daddy’s handwriting filled the page.
