Sparks Reignited

26 | Unwanted

Kyle tells me all about his grandfather—an affectionate and helpful man in his seventies who was almost a friend of everyone in town. In his free time, he helped at the orphanage and church by pruning the flowerbeds. He spent time with juveniles in a detention home. He handed out his famous apple strudels to his neighbors and friends.

The cause of his death? A cardiac arrest. When he passed away, many attended his funeral—including me, my mother, and Aunt Abbie.

According to Kyle, we knew his grandfather because he frequently patronized Happynest. Every morning, he would enjoy a cup of freshly brewed black coffee. His favorite item on the menu was Big Ben—scrambled eggs, grilled tomatoes and maple-glazed bacon on top of toasts.

As Kyle shares about him, I can tell he adores his grandfather and clearly misses him a lot. His expression is tender, but his head dips and his back hunches forward. A telltale sign of sadness through his body language.

"Dad's always busy with his company and we had schools to attend," he tells me. "But Gramps was stubborn. He refuses to leave his home in Lakeshore to let us take care of him. Mom had to drive him back home every Christmas and New Year. I only came here twice to spend the summer—once when I was seven, and another time when I was eleven."

Kyle is playing with my fingers, weaving between his around mine and studying them. "Strangely enough," he muses, "you and I never crossed paths. Not until the funeral when I saw you playing this song in church to pay tribute to him."

I don't miss the chance to tease him. It's payback for what he did to me earlier. "And then you fell in love with me?"

"Hm..." His brows lift in lighthearted amusement. "You got that half-right. I didn't fall in love with you. I walked right into that one."

This time, I shake my head in both embarrassment and disbelief, laughing. "Would anybody believe me if I tell them you're saying such cute stuff from that sharp tongue of yours?"

He gives me that lazy smile that easily excites the butterflies in my stomach. "Probably not, because I only say such cute things to you, babe."

I gape at him in disbelief, knowing he's trying to win me over with his sweet words. He's determined to make me stay forever and somehow it's working.

At this rate, he's going to be the death of me.

"You don't play fair."

He shrugs. "All's fair in love and war."

I turn back to the piano to hide my flushed cheeks. I play some keys randomly just to keep myself busy. After some time has passed, Kyle breaks the silence in a quiet voice, shooting me a somber question.

"What else do you remember?"

My gaze returns to him. He doesn't look at me, but the downward curve of his lips tells me he isn't completely happy. He's torn between the joy of me remembering how to play the piano and the dreadful possibility that my memory might return soon.

He's just afraid I might leave him if I do.

And so I assure him. "The song is the only thing I remember. If another memory appears in my head, you'll be the first to know."

Nodding, he stands up and pulls me along with him. He flashes a small smile at me, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He's still worried.

"Shall we head home?"

***

The car ride is peaceful as we exchange mild teasing between us. I fiddle with the radio stations, listening to songs that I've never heard of. Some are nice and catchy, but some are just plain bad. The vocals are a mess and to make things worse, Kyle purposely sings along to get on my nerves. He's a tone deaf singer, that's for sure.