Page 67 of Forgotten
At his words, I notice that Winnie is rushing towards me, unstable on her short legs. I worry she will fall but I fight myself to stay seated on the bench, my hands twitching as I let her come to me.
My dad and I stare in silence as Winnie makes her way to us and at the corner of my eye, I spot Ash checking on her too while in a conversation. When shereaches us, Winnie demands to be lifted up onto my knees and offers her cheek to my dad for a kiss.
We both comply and the grin that appears on my girl’s face is priceless.
“Da!” She giggles and then goes on to tell a story I cannot follow.
Feeling my dad’s stare on me, I meet his eyes. In this light, they are the deepest brown, just like mine. His hair is a mixture of blonde and grey. I wish it was the same colour as mine, I wish I was an exact copy of him. “I wish I could be more like you,” I tell him.
My dad smiles, “And I wish I could be more like you, son. You’re here, you are alive. Don’t waste it.”
???
We spend the day outside and when Winnie and Pippa grow tired and the adults grow hungry, we decide to head to the pub. There’s not much choice in Sheffield so we go to our ‘usual’ and apparently, everyone knows the Bergman-Hales around here. A few people stop by our table and greet Ash. They ask about my recovery and I tilt my head to one side, then to the other.
“It’s going,” I say unconvinced.
A woman in her fifties introduces herself as Kirsty and takes our orders.
When it’s my turn, she asks if I want my usual. Looking at Ash, I check with him. “Do I want my usual?”
“Trust me, son. You want your usual,” Kirsty replies and then moves on to my dad, pen clicking furiously. “And what can I bring you today, handsome?”
My dad has a weird blush on his cheeks as he tells Kirsty exactly what he wants to eat and once Kirsty is gone, Martin leans in.
“So are you two gonna shag this time?” Martin asks and my dad hides his face in his hands.
Pippa’s mom covers Pippa’s ears with her hands and shakes her head disapprovingly. “Martin, you are incorrigible.”
“Someone had to fucking say it, man. Miss Kirsty is constantly giving you the eye and you look like you’d order her from the menu.”
Dipping his chin down, my dad grimaces, muttering something to himself. Then, he straightens his spine and looks at me, seeking approval.
“She seems nice.” I relax against the booth and offer a genuine smile in his direction.
“Alright then,” he tells himself.
Next to me, Ash clears his voice. Winnie is on his knees, holding my finger with one hand and a fork with the other. We all turn our eyes to Ash and I notice how he’s picking at his nails nervously, something he only does when there’s something on his mind. It’s gone just as quickly, and a teasing grin appears on his lips instead. “Shall we give Erik our worst twin name suggestions?”
Erik groans in exasperation but we all chime in happily, shouting the worst combinations that we can think of. Lizzy and Betty. Clark and Bruce. Ginger and Ale. When Kirsty brings us the food, she delivers the best suggestion: Fish and Chips.
“That works for any gender. Thank me later, mister Erik Bergman.”
My dad beams at her as she gathers our plates and retreats to the kitchen. I don’t recall ever seeing him so bashful around a woman, not even Mom.
When we leave the pub it’s almost dark out and I elbow my dad on the way out, pointing at Kirsty.
Shaking his head, my dad waves at her. “Not now, Fordy. Today is for the family.” He gives me a long hug outside, and then Martin gives me one, as well as Edwin, Erik, Pippa’s mom and finally, little Pippa.
Everyone wishes us goodnight and then Ash, Winnie and I are on our way home. We walk slowly and by the time we reach our sweet red-brick home, Winnie is asleep in my arms. I study the outside of the house, thinking of the first time I have been here, in 2020, when Ash had just moved in with Jonathan. It was a different house then. It didn’t feel like a home.
Ash is silent as he opens the door and lets me and Winnie in first.
“Make sure she brushes her teeth. I will make myself tea,” he says, locking the door behind us and making his way down the hallway to the kitchen.
Once Winnie’s teeth are brushed and she’s asleep in her crib, I make my way downstairs to find Ash outside in the cold night, a full mug of tea before him. No cigarettes.
I sit beside him, wondering why he’s outside. Alone.
