Opal and Bernard had arranged for him to come over to the cabin in the evening, after work for both of them. She’d told him the cabin number and when he’d offered to bring Chinese food, she’d accepted. She’d need to spend a little time cleaning, and that saved her time. Ordinarily, she was happy to cook...not like Olivia...but this gave her a little extra time.

He’d asked her what she wanted from the Chinese restaurant—said he had an “in”—and she hadn’t been there since they’d changed the name, so he said he’d surprise her. That was fine with her—she and her dad were easy.

Oh, her dad! She’d forgotten to mention he’d be there. He’d been watching the winter Olympics, so she knew there was no way she’d be able to get him to go visit Olivia or Allen during the curling competition.

Well, there was no way to tell him now. She hadn’t even given him her phone number, so he’d have to just be surprised. Hopefully it wouldn’t end up in another “Opal is so great” monologue. Thank goodness for the Olympics.

When Bernard arrived, he didn’t bat an eye when he saw Allen. Quite the opposite—he was gracious and polite as he had been the other times she’d seen him. But Opal breathed a sigh of relief when they were dishing out the Chinese food—which smelled heavenly—and her dad took his plate into the living room.

“Curling’s just starting. You don’t mind, do you? I don’t think we had that in Texas. It’s fascinating,” Allen said as he hoisted his plate and root beer and headed to the couch.

When she’d cleaned, she’d moved the computer away from the TV so it might be a little quieter while they looked at pictures. They took their plates over to the large desk and Bernard pulled up another chair from the dining room table. The cabin was small, so that was the best they could do.

“Thanks for dinner, Bernard,” Allen said during the next commercial, as Opal turned on the computer and got things ready.

“My pleasure, sir,” Bernard said as he smiled at Opal.

He didn’t seem to mind at all, and she smiled in return as he dropped the memory stick into her palm.

As his pictures loaded onto the computer, she pulled hers up. She’d been over them before, but she zoomed in to the area that they’d both noticed, enlarging it as much as she could without it getting too grainy.

“That’s it,” Bernard said as the enlarged image filled the entire screen. “Like you said, though, it’s impossible to see.”

“Right.” Opal closed out her pictures and set his up on the screen. “Which one do you want to start with?”

“That one.” Bernard pointed to one in the center, but he wasn’t that close to the monitor so she couldn’t tell which one.

She moved the pointer to the one she thought he’d meant. “This one?”

“No, this one over here.”

She sat still while he covered her hand with his over the mouse and moved the pointer to the picture he’d been referring to.

Just as the pointer made it, he lifted his hand in a hurry. “Oh, sorry,” he said.

“No problem,” she said as she felt the absence of his warm hand on hers.

She blinked a couple of times to focus on the screen and opened the picture. She immediately recognized the glen they’d both been interested in and enlarged it as much as she could before it all became a blur.

They looked for a while and flipped through other pictures—both hers and his—but couldn’t find anything.

“Do you think we may have been imagining things?” Bernard finally asked. “I only saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and when I got to look at the pictures—nothing. Not even in the enlarged ones. I just can’t see anything. Can you?”

Opal sighed. She’d been up there several mornings in a row—well, many—and each time she knew she’d seen movement. Tree branches rustling along with a figure of some kind darting.

“I just know it’s not my imagination, Bernard. I can’t prove it—there’s nothing in my pictures, either. I just know it.”

“Well, I guess we could go look again. I could mark the places I saw it from and we could check once more. I have some binoculars.”

Opal leaned back in her chair and reached for Bernard’s memory stick, handing it to him and running her fingers through her hair.

“I think maybe my vantage point might be best. The lens on your camera is much better, and between that and the binoculars, maybe we’d have a chance?”

“Whoa, did you see that?” her father shouted.

Opal and Bernard both spun around, and Opal wondered what could possibly be shout-worthy.

“Look at that,” her father said, pointing at the TV.

She did look at the TV and saw a big stone with a handle on it sitting next to a circle—several circles on ice. Nothing was moving except the people standing next to it, and she didn’t think it was remotely exciting.

“I’m sorry. Ignore him,” Opal said as she turned off the computer. When she turned around, Bernard was moving his chair over to where her father sat, gleefully pointing to a new stone by a new target.

She sighed and pulled her chair over, too. She smiled as Bernard and her father heatedly debated the techniques of the sweepers—or whatever they were called—and Opal couldn’t help but think that sweeping that fast was for the birds.

As the competition continued, she got a round of ice cream for the three of them, followed by popcorn to accompany the couples’ ice dancing. By the time the luge competition had ended for the day, she was worn out—and it appeared that her father and Bernard were, too.

“Wow, that was fun. I just love the Olympics,” Allen said as he stood and stretched. “Thanks again for dinner, and for the good company, Bernard.”

The men shook hands, and Opal smiled. It was so nice to see her father having such a good time, and even though she and Bernard hadn’t had much luck with the pictures, she hoped that tomorrow would be more successful.

She reached for the bag of leftover Chinese food for Bernard and turned around to his palms held up in her direction as he shook his head.

“No, none for me, thanks. There’s a lot more where that came from. You guys keep it.”

Opal raised her eyebrows and cocked her head. “My roommate works at the Chinese restaurant in town—well, sort of—but there’s a lot of Chinese food to be had. He’s looking for another place to stay closer to town, but until then there will be no shortage.”

Opal laughed. “Great, then I can tell dad he can have it for breakfast. I won’t need to make it for him before we leave, so we can head out early.”

“You make his breakfast for him?” Bernard asked, and she couldn’t quite read his expression. Surprise? Judgment?

“Yeah, I do. Every day, if I can. Been doing it since my mother died. It makes me happy,” she said, and his expression was now clear to read.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t be. How could you know?” It wasn’t the first time someone was uncomfortable when they found out that her mother died, and that she’d stuck around to help take care of her dad.

He seemed to recover quickly, and Opal was glad. Her father was her family—especially now that Olivia was married. And it had been her commitment to help him in any way she could.

“He’ll be thrilled with the Chinese food, so thanks for helping me look after him,” she said to lighten his mood, maybe even make him smile. She had come to truly enjoy his smile.

And it worked.

“Good. I’m happy to do it. Not something I’ve ever done before,” he said as he pulled on his coat, hat and gloves and reached for his camera.

“Well, thanks. See you bright and early, then?”

He turned before he closed the door behind him and she got to see that smile again.

“You bet. Bright and early. See you then.”

As she tidied up the kitchen and put the Chinese food in the refrigerator, along with a note for her father to enjoy his breakfast, she wondered a bit about Bernard. He didn’t talk much about his family, although he’d been steeped in hers. Maybe tomorrow she could find out a little bit more about him—although she wouldn’t admit to Olivia in a million years that she even wanted to.