Betsy had cooked the hamburger earlier, so all she needed to do was add the seasonings and the tomato sauce, then let it simmer on the stove.
“Will John be eating with us, too?” Barbara asked.
“Yes, he went to pick up some chips and salsa at the market, but he’ll be home soon.”
If her mother had thought it odd that Betsy had referred to John coming “home,” she didn’t mention anything, which was a relief.
It’s not that she meant to keep any secrets about the two of them becoming lovers, but they really hadn’t talked about what the future held for them. How could they when John’s past was still in question?
They’d probably get around to it soon, but he’d been a little introspective the past couple of days. And she wasn’t sure what was going on with that. Of course, she might be reading something into nothing. And it might be the upcoming holiday that had him pensive.
It was a struggle not to compare him to Doug, though. And she realized that whenever she did so, it was a result of her own past and baggage coming to light.
And speaking of the past, her biological mother’s attorney had contacted her again, asking if she’d be interested in a meeting before Christmas. “It would mean so much to her,” the man had said.
But Betsy had put it off again. “Maybe after New Year’s,” she’d said. Then she’d taken the man’s number and said she’d call him after Christmas.
“What can I do to help?” her mother asked.
“Do you want to chop tomatoes and lettuce? Or would you rather grate the cheese?”
“It doesn’t matter. You choose.”
Betsy placed a couple of small serving bowls, a paring knife, the cutting board and the previously washed produce in front of her mother. Then she grabbed the cheese from the fridge and a grater from the drawer.
Dinner would be ready soon. So where was John?
She glanced at the clock on the microwave. He’d left for the market at the same time she’d gone to get her parents.
“Have you decided on a menu for Christmas dinner?” her mom asked. “Turkey might be nice again, even though we had it for Thanksgiving. And I can make that cranberry Jell-O salad again.”
Christmas was only a week away, and Betsy had been thinking a lot about the holiday, although she hadn’t gotten a tree yet.
“Do you mind celebrating twice?” she asked her mom.
“What do you mean?”
“I’d like to do something special for Doc. And because he probably won’t be able to leave the convalescent hospital, we’ll have to do it there. But I’d like to have something special at home, too.”
John didn’t have a family with whom he could celebrate, so she wanted to go out of her way to make it nice for him-and to make him feel as though he was a part of her family.
Who knew? Maybe someday he would be.
Her mother placed the chopped tomatoes into one of the bowls. Then she focused on the lettuce. “Will John be joining us for Christmas?”
“I’m sure he will be.” They hadn’t actually talked about it, but where else would he go?
“It will be nice to have him with us on the holiday,” her mom said. “He seems like a very personable young man.”
Personable wasn’t the half of it, and the thought put a smile on her face.
As her mother sliced into the lettuce, she asked, “Do you like him?”
Betsy knew she wasn’t just talking in terms of friendship. And while she and her mom didn’t keep many secrets from each other, her relationship with John was too new and tenuous to make any announcements just yet.
“For what it’s worth,” Betsy did admit, “John and I have gotten pretty close lately.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Barbara said. “Your father and I have been worried about you spending too much time alone.”
“I’m pretty busy.”
“We love you, honey. And we’re enormously proud of the woman and the physician you’ve become. But you’ve been
Deciding to let that comment slide, Betsy finished grating the cheese and then transferred it into a serving dish that matched those holding the lettuce and tomatoes.
“Are you going to start frying the tacos shells now?” Barbara asked.
“No, I’ll wait to do that until right before we eat. In fact, why don’t we take some iced tea to Dad and watch the game with him until John arrives?”
“All right.” Her mother pulled the walker close to her chair, then slowly got to her feet.
Betsy had no more than prepared four glasses and carried them into the living room on a tray when she heard Doc’s pickup drive into the yard.
“Oh, good,” she told her parents. “He’s back.”
Moments later, John entered the living room with a grocery bag, his expression guarded, his eyes lacking the spark Betsy had grown used to seeing.
Her father stood and extended his arm in greeting, and while John smiled and took the older man’s hand, Betsy couldn’t help sensing that something was wrong.
“John,” she said, as she placed the tray of drinks on the coffee table, “will you please help me in the kitchen?”
“Sure.”
When they were out of earshot and alone, she asked, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
She crossed her arms, not at all convinced. “You’ve been pretty quiet lately. And right now, I’m picking up some serious vibes.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” He blew out a sigh, then brushed a kiss on her brow. “I’ve had a couple of things come back to me, but not enough to know anything for sure. I think my name is Jason, though. And I’m from California.”
“That’s it?”
“For the most part.”
Something didn’t quite jive. Did he remember more than he was telling her?
She didn’t know why she thought he was holding back. Something in his eyes, maybe.
“Do you have a last name?” she asked.
“It might be Alvarez. I’m not sure. So far, my thoughts are pretty scattered. And I’m not ready to talk about any of it yet.”
She could understand that-and she could sympathize with it. So, feeling just a bit better, she offered him a smile and gave him a hug. “I’m glad to hear that. I can’t imagine how difficult the amnesia is for you.”
“Hopefully, it’ll soon be a thing of the past.”
She sure hoped so. She was just about to suggest that they open the chips and salsa and take it out to the living room when she stole another glance at him, saw his furrowed brow.
He was looking down at the floor, but it clearly wasn’t just his boots or the tile pattern that had caught his attention.
Was it something-or
Her heart sunk at the thought, yet she didn’t think it was fair to quiz him.
When he looked up, he caught her gaze, twisting her heart into a tight little knot. “I’m not going to stay, Betsy. I want to go back to Doc’s and be alone for a while. I need to do some thinking.”
She could understand that.
“All right,” she said, calling on her professionalism and everything that made her a good doctor. “I’ll get dinner on the table. You can eat with us, then take off.”
“No.” He took a step back. “I’m not in the mood to socialize tonight at all.”
Why was that? Was he remembering things that didn’t concern her? Things he didn’t want her to know?
A chill settled over her as she realized he was shutting her out, just as Doug had seemed to do when their
