A Perfect Day Read Free

something to pay the bills until he’s able to get published. A friend of his older brother is the sales manager there. And they’re going to let him write radio commercials for some of their advertisers.” While Carson digested the information, she added, “We’re getting a house.”
    He turned to look at her. “A house? So soon?”
    “Rob’s dad is helping us. It’s one of his rental properties. He’s selling it to us without interest, so it’s the same price as renting an apartment. It’s a Tudor in a beautiful little community south of Salt Lake with horse property. It has a fence around it. It reminds me a little of Ashland. And we’ll have a guest room for you to stay with us. You can fly out whenever you want.”
    “I don’t fly.”
    “Well, it’s a long drive, so you better start.” She hit his knee playfully. “You amaze me, you know that? You used to ride bulls and yet you’re afraid to get on an airplane.”
    “Bulls don’t crash into mountains.”
    “No, they crash into you.”
    “Wrong state,” he repeated.
    They were quiet again. Then Allyson said, “I’m going to miss you, Dad.”
    He looked forward. “Me too.” After a moment he said, “You know things weren’t always that great between me and your mom. Sometimes we’d get into it like cats and dogs. When we lived in that little apartment in Medford the neighbors would call the manager to complain about the ruckus.”
    “Why are you telling me this?”
    “I don’t want you to take unrealistic expectations into your marriage. Just because the boat rocks, doesn’t mean it’s time to jump overboard. The relationship will change. All relationships change through time. But that’s not always a bad thing. In fact some of the best things to happen to our marriage were the changes. It’s part of the growing process.” He looked forward again and he sighed.
    “You look tired, Dad. Are you feeling all right?”
    “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Maybe it’s time to head on back. What time is our dinner?”
    “I made our reservation for nine. That’s not too late, is it?”
    “You mean for an old guy like me?”
    “That’s not what I meant.”
    He reached over the side of the rock and lifted the knapsack he had brought from the horse. “Before we go I want to show you something.”
    He took from the pack a thick leather-bound binder overflowing with pages. Its cover was burnished with a flourish and its leather was aged with time and wear. Allyson looked at the book curiously. Though she did not remember seeing it, something about it seemed familiar to her.
    “What have you got there?”
    “Something I’ve been working on for about twenty years.” He pulled back the cover. Inside the binder were pages of different sizes and gauges, uneven and dog-eared. The first page was parchment marked with her father ’s wild scrawl.
    “It’s your life book. It has your genealogy, letters from Mom and me, your birth announcement, your high school graduation program, thoughts about things—and my thoughts about you. It’s time for you to take it.”
    Allyson took the book in her lap. She gently turned through its leaves, as if it were a sacred relic. Each page contained a piece of the puzzle of who she had become. Without looking up she said, “Dad, this is wonderful. I didn’t know you were doing this . . .” She suddenly paused at an aged page with a small note written on lined paper and a photograph taped to its bottom. “Oh, my . . .”
    “That’s the first love note I ever wrote to your mother.”
    Allyson read it softly aloud.
    To my heart, Alise,
Wherever you are, wherever you go, I love you
and always will.
    —Carson
    “You have a poetic heart.” She ran her finger across the black-and-white photograph of a young woman that was taped to the bottom of the letter. “Is this Mom?”
    “She was about your age when that was taken.”
    “We look alike, don’t we? Doris Day hairdo aside.”
    “You always