I laugh again, remembering the Father’s Day surprise she and I planned for him a few years ago.

“For Father’s Day we got him this basic smartphone. When he opened it, he was so confused. He looked at it like it was some alien gadget he had never seen before. We tried to explain that it was a simple smartphone. I started to show him how easy it was to use, but he shook his head, politely said ‘no, thank you,’ and then held up his flip phone. He said that was as high tech as he ever wanted to be.”

Callum looks at me, his eyes bright, his smile wide, and bursts into a laugh. “So he was pretty set in his ways, then?”

“He was.” I let the memory of that Father’s Day soak in. “Good thing I thought to get him a backup present in case he didn’t like the phone.”

“Which was?”

“A new leather case for his flip phone.”

We fall into uncontrollable cackles that draw a handful of annoyed glances from nearby tables. But I don’t care. Sharing this memory with Callum is worthy of loud laughter. Catching my breath, I sip my beer.

I place my glass back on the table and catch Callum staring at me. “What?”

“Your entire face lights up when you talk about your dad.”

“Really?” Sheepishness tinges my chuckle. “I thought it would seem sort of sad talking about him this way.”

“Why?”

I take a moment before speaking. “I don’t talk about him with anyone other than my mom. I don’t really know how often you’re supposed to speak about someone after you lose them or if you’re supposed to speak about them at all. Or if it’s weird and just too sad.”

From across the table, Callum grabs my hand. “There’s no such thing as normal when it comes to something like this, Nikki. Normal is however you feel.”

His touch is a security blanket for my nerves. I may not be sure of my emotions or what to do, but I’m certain that I feel comfortable in Callum’s presence, even when talking about a tough subject. And that counts for so much.

“Honestly? It felt really good to talk about him with you.”

That admission earns me an affectionate squeeze from his hand. “Then tell me more.”

“He loved that show M*A*S*H. Even though it ended in the eighties, he would watch reruns almost every week. Drove my mom up the wall.”

Callum beams wide. “That’s hilarious.”