…
Will was early for his birthday party. Well, it was just her, a cake, and dinner reservations.
That counted as a party, though. Lucy was pretty sure. One final hurrah before the time on their relationship ended. One more night before they were only colleagues again.
She bit at her lip. She couldn’t think of that now. Not when they were celebrating his birthday.
Powdered sugar covered her kitchen. She glanced to the cake, leaning her head a bit to the right. The cake was almost level.
“Luce?” Will called from the living room.
“Hey, Will.” She stuck her head around the corner. Like always, her breath caught at the sight of him. “Happy birthday to you…” she sang, mostly off-key.
He grinned at her. “You’ve been busy.”
“Your cake’s finished.” She glanced at her frosting-smeared apron. “Had a little bit of a powdered sugar explosion.”
“What’s all this?” He gestured to the three boxes delivered by courier a few hours ago.
“They came for you. I figured you were expecting them.”
He frowned at the packages. “No.”
Every day they did exactly the same thing when he came home from work. Will would kiss her, and she’d do lots of fun things to him.
He didn’t come straight to her today. Instead, he pulled the tape from the first box and opened it up. He removed a worn football and tossed it in the air before setting it gently on the sofa. “My stuff from when I was a kid.”
Lucy came behind him, ran a hand around his waist, and pressed her cheek against his back. “Teresa?”
“I guess so. Probably.”
“She mentioned moving. Maybe she’s clearing stuff out. You okay?”
He moved so his arms were around her. “Yeah. I am.”
Together they unpacked the boxes of knickknacks and memories. She laughed at the stories he told about each object, learning more of the enigma of Will, uncovering truths about his past.
Lucy caught sight of a young Will in a stack of photos near the bottom of one of the boxes. She ran her finger along the edge. In the image, a teenage Will with an earsplitting grin stood next to a woman with the same expression. His mother? He had her eyes.
His father stood behind them. Will looked exactly like his father—minus the gray hair and the lines around his eyes. It was like a glimpse into Will’s future. His father leaned against Will’s truck. It was much newer back then, but still hadn’t come straight from the Ford showroom floor.
“Is this your mom?” Lucy asked.
He glanced to the photo, and his expression gentled. “Yeah, that’s Mom, right after Dad and I fixed up the truck. I saved up for it. It was the first thing I ever bought for myself.”
Lucy squeezed his hand. He went back to unpacking the box in front of him.
“Your mom’s beautiful.”
His throat worked. “Yeah.”
Lucy set the picture aside with the other photos so they could be framed.
“Whose is this?” She tugged a blue lace bra from under the stack of photos.
He had the decency to blush when he snatched it out of her hand.
“Let’s not talk about that.” He rose to toss it in the trash bin.
