“I want to,” is all he says as we walk into Nana’s Oven.
The familiar smells hit me like a sweet punch to the stomach, making me both love and hate them. Ellen, the sixty-something woman, is still working behind the counter.
“Lexy!” she gasps as soon as she sees me and walks over. “How are you?” She pulls me into an embrace, then looks me over. “You lost weight?”
“Hello, Ellen. I’m okay. How are you?” I smile at her.
“I’m good, and happy you’re here.” She turns to look at Dex, her eyes running over him. “And who’s this young man?”
I smile. “This is Dex, my boss.” Ellen looks at me confused, so I add, “I work at his bar in Lander now.”
Ellen nods, then looks at Dex. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dex.”
Dex shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you too… Ellen.”
She smiles. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
She turns back to me. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it here today, you know, with Mason at college and all…” She walks behind the counter filled with pastries, ducks down, then comes back up holding a box. “But I decided to prepare this anyway.”
I look at the box, then back at her. “You remembered?”
She smiles. “Of course.” I take the box from her.
“How much do I owe you?” I ask, reaching into my jacket pocket for the tips I’ve made these past weeks working for Dex.
“I got it,” Dex says, but Ellen shakes her head.
“No, this is on the house.” She looks at me with knowing eyes. “Peter was a good man.”
I fight the tears as I nod. “Thank you, Ellen. This…” I trail off.
“No need to thank me. Repay me by coming by from time to time.” She smiles. Then she turns to Dex. “And bring this handsome young man with you.” She winks.
???
We arrive at the cemetery, and as I look through the windshield, it’s fully covered in snow. I can barely make out the gravestones, and my heart sinks.
“Dex, I don’t think we can…”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dex climbs out of the truck, walks to the back, and pulls out a big shovel. I stare, shocked, as he comes around and opens my door.
A knowing grin on his face. “Figured we’d need this,” he says, nodding toward the shovel.
I just shake my head, at a loss for words, as I climb out of the truck.
The cemetery is quiet. Big trees stand over hundreds of gravestones like they’re protecting them. I can’t make out the headstones in the snow, but I know the layout by heart. Slowly, I walk to the oak tree I know is next to my father’s grave. Dex follows behind me quietly.
The closer I get, the more the wound grows, the one shaped like my father. Tears start to gather in my eyes as I finally make out his gravestone beneath the snow.
“He’s here,” I whisper, pointing at it.
Dex nods and starts shoveling the snow around it, then helps me clear the entire stone. My father’s name, Peter Vale, comes into view, and his smiling picture greets me.
“Hi, Dad,” I whisper as I place my gloved hand on the cold stone.
“I’ll give you some time with him.” Dex hands me the box of scones, then walks away toward a row of fallen soldiers’ graves twenty or so feet away, somehow knowing I need a little time alone with my dad.
“I miss you.” My voice cracks as tears flow down my cheeks, leaving cold tracks behind.
