Found in Us (Lost 2)

Parker frowns. "I always play golf on Saturdays. I even did it last week at Helen's."

"Oh my God, I wonder what would happen if you'd do something else on a Saturday? I'm sure the entire Parker system would collapse. And then the world as we know it would end."

"All right, point taken," Parker says, shaking his head.

"Let's go to Hyde Park," I say.

"Why?"

"Umm. . . to hang out? Also, I'm hoping to make some progress with my squirrel."

"You—what was that, again? It sounded like you want to make some progress with your . . . squirrel."

I blush. "There are a lot of squirrels there, and they come near you if you feed them. Once when I was feeding them I noticed that one squirrel wouldn't come close at all. I think she's afraid of people. But I did manage to make her come a tiny, tiny bit closer after a few trips there," I say proudly.

"How often do you go there?"

"Oh, I stop by after work sometimes."

Parker nods. "Hyde Park it is, then. Just enlighten me on this: how is feeding squirrels more exciting than playing golf?"

"Squirrels are cute. Whenever I think of golf, creepy old men come to mind."

"Do I look like a creepy old man to you?" Parker asks in mock indignation.

"Are you telling me everyone at the golf club looks like you? By all means, head to the club then," I joke.

"So much for your squirrel . . ."

"Stop saying it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want to say something else instead."

Parker chuckles. "You have a dirty little mind, you know that?"

"Mmm, are you complaining?"

"Not really. I had something in mind for this morning. But, well, Hyde Park isn't exactly the best place for shagging."

The need to laugh overtakes me so violently that I can't stop the laughter bubbling out of my chest.

"What's so funny?"

"I . . . am . . . sorry," I say, almost out of breath, still giggling. "That word—whoever came up with it should be sued. No one can make shagging sound sexy. Not even you, Parker. I'll never understand why you Brits insist on using it. There are tons of other words that sound better. Hell, even ‘fornicating’ sounds better."

He slows down the car at a red light, then leans in to me. "How does fucking sound?"

"Much better. You know what, let’s head to the golf club, and we can head to the park later on. You’ve made me curious.”

Also, he’s been going with me on my explorations trips, so it’s only fair.

***

Parker

"How do you know which one is your squirrel?" I ask a few hours later, staring at the group of squirrels huddled around the tree, as Jessica gently throws crushed biscuits in their direction.