“Hey, dad.”
“It's my son! With a clear connection and a phone call that lasts more than ten seconds.”
“It's good to be back in the States,” Cam affirmed.
His mother laughed. “You’ve got ten years of hugs to make up for.”
“Ma, I’ve been home. It's not like I was abducted by aliens for ten years and was suddenly returned to Earth.”
“I know, but this is Christmas,” his mother insisted.
“I get it,” Cam said.
“And the way these kids are growing. You won’t recognize your nieces and nephews.”
His father added, “The mayhem gets crazier every year.”
Kate Canto spoke to her husband. “Jamie and Theo set up a skateboard ramp in our driveway.”
Cam's dad's voice was muffled. “Maybe you and I should take a little vacation to prepare for the onslaught.”
“Oh, that's a perfect idea,” his mother agreed. “Let's go to that art fair in St. Petersburg I was telling you about.”
Cam shook his head. His parents tended to get lost in their own world.
“Mom? Dad?”
“We’re here!” His mother returned her attention to her son. “We can’t wait to see you, my heart.”
“Love you both. See you in four weeks,” Cam said.
“We love you, too, son,” his dad replied.
Cam ended the call, set the phone into the cradle on the dash, and embraced this feeling of… joyful frustration. Most thirty-five-year-old guys would have ground their teeth at the thought of a chaotic family holiday, but this was what had been missing from his life. After eight years in the Navy and another three with The CIA, screaming children and bickering over nonsense seemed like heaven.
After forty years of marriage, his parents were still deeply in love. Theirs was a fairytale romance. In 1980, Cam's father, Aarón, had been interning at a Miami law firm when he met a group of lawyers for lunch at a local bistro. Seated at the crowded table, Aarón had glanced past the half-wall that separated the kitchen from the dining room and locked eyes with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Equally smitten, the woman—the chef—shot him a warm smile, and thirty minutes later, she was helping the waitress place their lunches on the table. Aarón circled her wrist with his hand. He didn’t pull her or grip her; he simply touched her. When she met his distinctive gaze, he said, “I’m going to marry you.”
“Kate,” she clarified. “I’m going to marry you, Kate.”
He was already in love. “Kate.”
“Why don’t you take me on a proper date first?” She patted his shoulder and continued serving the food.
Six weeks later, they were married.
For better or worse, Cam's parents’ example had an unintended side effect: he refused to settle for a relationship that paled in comparison to his mom and dad's. He didn’t expect the lock-eyes-and-instantly-know-she's-the-one lightning bolt, but he did need…something. He had come to refer to it as his dad's “zing test.” Cam didn’t know what that zing was, but he figured he’d know it when he felt it. And until then…
He started to merge back onto the road when he remembered why he had pulled over in the first place. Leaving the phone in the holder, he entered the number. Just as the call connected, Cam glanced out the window. The same Ford Explorer with the bird crap on the hood drove by at about ten miles below the speed limit. That was one sighting too many. Cam switched the phone to camera function and snapped a picture of the plate. The voice on the line prevented further speculation.
“Operator.”
Cam stated his username and unique code.
“The phone assigned the following number received two text messages in the past twenty-four hours. They have been cleared, and the messages are available to access.”
“Acknowledged,” Cam confirmed.
The call ended with a soft beep.