“I didn’t think that boy would ever let you out of his sight!” Maggie said when Eddie drove away and I turned around. She was standing behind me on a small tiled landing. The house was a split level; from where we were standing at the front door, you could either go up or down.
I smiled. “He’s sweet.”
Maggie laughed. “Sweet is one way to put it. A pit bull is another.”
“A pit bull?” I questioned, not quite making the connection.
She nodded sagely. “He’s mighty protective over you. I pity anyone who even looks at you funny.”
I thought about the person in the hospital garden, in my hospital room, and the haunting figure who loomed over me in every dream.
“Well, how about a tour? I’m sure you want to see the place you’re going to be living.” Maggie gestured for me to follow her up the stairs.
“I really hope this isn’t an imposition,” I said, feeling shy.
“Oh, hush. I’m enjoying the company. Truly.”
Up the short flight of stairs, the house opened into a large space. A living room, kitchen, and eating space made up almost the entire floor. It was clean and uncluttered, something I realized I rather liked. The walls were painted a soft yellow, and there was a fireplace against the far wall that was white-painted brick. She had framed photos on the mantel and a few unlit candles.
On either side of the fireplace were bookcases built into the wall. They were crammed with books, all neatly lined up by size. In front of the fireplace was a large oval-shaped rug that was thick and multicolored. It looked handmade, because surely something that beautiful couldn’t be bought in a store. There were two large fabric chairs upholstered in deep-green velvet and a leather couch all facing each other with a wooden coffee table in the center.
Toward the front of the house were large windows that overlooked the street. They were draped in sheer curtains, and a large wooden piano sat in front of them.
“Do you play?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, for many years. My husband actually was the one who taught me.”
“Eddie told me he passed away. I’m very sorry.”
Maggie smiled sadly. “I miss him every day. But when it gets to be too much, I just sit down and play, and I can feel him in the room with me.”
How heartbreakingly romantic.
“Where’s Elmo?” I asked, gazing around.
She made a tsking nose. “I put him in the bedroom. I didn’t want him running around and scaring you. He’s a mischievous thing.”
I could tell just by the way her eyes lit up she loved the dog more than anything else. “I’d love to meet him,” I said.
“I’ll let him out, but be prepared!” She went past the kitchen and disappeared down a hallway that I guessed led to the bedrooms.
When she was gone, I glanced around at the paintings on the walls (mostly landscapes), smiled at the huge basket of dog toys, and nearly tripped over a half-chewed bone. Clearly, it was Elmo who ran this place.
The kitchen was open, an L-shape, with an island facing the living room. The countertops were stone, and the cabinets were white, each door with a different-colored knob. On the counter was a coffee pot, a toaster, and a few other things filled with utensils. The appliances were all white, and there was a calendar on the front of the fridge.
Off to the side in the kitchen was a wide archway that led out into what looked like an eating area. I went toward it because it was so bright. The entire room was made up of windows, and a round table sat in the center. The table was brown, but the four chairs were all painted various colors. The windows literally went down to the wooden floor, taking full advantage of the view of a beautiful backyard filled with trees that painted the sky with autumn shades.
The sound of paws scampering across the floor and Maggie laughing made me smile. I spun just as a little white fur ball streaked into the room and circled me. He disappeared under a chair, from where his white face peeked out, and a very large bark filled the room.
“Elmo!” Maggie scolded. “This is Amnesia. She’s our friend.”
“Hi, Elmo,” I said and dropped nearby and held out my hand. He barked twice more, then stopped, watching me carefully as he inched his way closer and closer. He was a cute little thing with long hair, mostly white but with patches of brown and black. His dark eyes stood out among all the white fur and his nose was little but seemed to work overtime.
“Hey,” I said when he got close enough to sniff me. “Good boy.”
Elmo wagged his tail and let me stroke his head and ears.
“Give him some cheese and he’ll be your friend for life,” Maggie said, watching us.
I giggled, and Elmo lay down and showed me his belly for rubs. He was warm and soft, his belly round and pink. I totally saw why he ran this house and realized that soon, he would likely own me, too.
“He’s adorable,” I said, standing. Elmo jumped up and moved to stand at my feet.
“Aww, he likes you.” Maggie approved. “Let me show you the rest of the house.”
The tour didn’t take long, but the house was fairly big, with four bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. The fourth bedroom was going to be mine. It was downstairs, along with another family room with a TV, laundry room, and entrance to the garage.
“I thought to give you this room down here,” Maggie explained as we went down the stairs, “because it has a TV, and I assumed you might enjoy that.”
“That was thoughtful,” I said, gazing around the lower level, which was just as comfortable as the upstairs.
“The laundry room is through there.” She pointed. “And so is the linen closet with a bunch of towels and blankets. Also, through there is a bathroom, the one you can use. It has a shower and everything you’ll need.”
Just on the other side of the staircase was a doorway Maggie led me through.
“Here it is. I hope it’s okay.”
The room was large, almost running the width of the basement. The space was shaped like a rectangle with a small window facing the street to my right and, to my left, a set of French doors that led out onto a patio in the backyard. There were more bookshelves in here, filled with books, and a bed against the wall by the door. It was covered in a thick, white comforter, but over that was a colorful quilt that for some reason made my eyes tear up. Across from the bed was the television on a wooden dresser.
Over by the French doors and the bookcase was another green velvet chair with a blanket draped over the back. Beside it was a small round wooden table. It was a nice chair to sit in and read.
I had no idea if I liked to read, but I wanted to find out.
“This is all for me?” I said, gazing around. It seemed huge and almost too nice. “It’s too much.”
“Hush now. It is not. It’s a good space. You can sit out back and read if you want.” She motioned to the doors. “And you have your own bathroom down here.”
Swallowing thickly, I turned, catching Maggie’s hands. Once again, I felt as if I might cry. “Thank you.”
“Don’t go making me cry,” Maggie said, sniffling.
“I can’t help it. You didn’t have to do this. You’ve basically taken in a stranger.”
She glanced away, dotting at the corners of her eyes to keep the tears at bay. “You aren’t a stranger,” she said. “I’ve been visiting you for weeks.”
“I won’t let you down.” I vowed.
Maggie smiled. “Oh, honey, there isn’t anything you could do that would let me down.”
I set my bag on the floor near the bed. It was strange being here, but it would likely feel strange everywhere because nothing was familiar.
“How about some tea? Do you like tea?” Maggie asked, moving to the door.
“I have no idea.” I laughed.
“Well, c’mon then. Let’s find out.”
I followed her back up to the kitchen, where she made two cups of hot tea and added honey to both mugs. As she did, she told me this was the best way to drink it. We carried our mugs out into the eating area made of windows and sat down.
“This room is beautiful,” I murmured, gazing around. “I feel like I’m in some kind of treehouse. Like we’re outside.”
“My late husband built this room for me. I love to sit out here, especially in the spring and fall. The scenery in Maine really can’t be matched.”
“I think you must be right.” I agreed and took a sip of the warm liquid. It was a deep flavor and sweet with the honey. I took another sip.
Maggie watched me. “Good?”
“Very.”
“I have to ask.” She began, sitting forward a little. “Have you remembered anything at all? Did the drive here maybe spark some memories?”
Why would the drive to Maggie’s house spark memories?
I must have looked confused because she hurried to say, “You know, just the new scenery. Maybe something brought something back.”
My body slouched back in the chair. “Nothing. I still don’t remember anything.” I didn’t mention the flash I had of hair falling to the floor and the sense of despair that came with it. I didn’t know if that was real or what it meant. Seemed no point in mentioning something that only lasted a few seconds.
“Perhaps with time,” she said, almost sad.
“I’m not sure.” I hedged.
A quizzical look came over her face. “Do you want to remember?”
“I’m not sure about that either. I’m sort of afraid to.” I admitted.
“Are you still having dreams about the night someone tried to kill you?”
I nodded. “Sometimes. But it’s always the same, and I never see a face.”
“You know what I think?” Maggie said, a lift to her voice.
“What?”
“I think when you stop trying to remember, you will. Maybe just getting out, seeing the town will distract you.”
“Eddie’s showing me around tomorrow,” I told her. A smile graced my face. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Wonderful. I thought tonight you might like to help me make dinner, and then we can be ill-mannered and eat it in front of the television.”
“I didn’t watch much TV in the hospital. The nurses took the remote control. I think they were afraid I’d see the news reports about me and the fact no one came forward with any information.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat. Reality TV is absolutely horrible.” She leaned over the table. “I’m totally addicted to it.”
I giggled at her confession. “What’s reality TV?”
Maggie laughed. “Oh, honey! You think you have problems? Just wait until you see the way people behave for all the world to see. It’s downright trashy.”
“And that makes it fun to watch?” I asked, sort of intrigued yet sort of horrified.
Maggie beamed. “Exactly!”
Maggie was right. Reality TV was horribly addictive. I’d never seen such a thing before, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to again. Yet I knew we would probably watch it again tonight, and I was looking forward to it.
Opening my eyes in my new room for the first time was slightly disorienting. It took a moment to realize where I was, but when I did, I couldn’t help but smile. I was going to like it here.
Don’t get too comfortable. This isn’t where you belong. The thought crashed into my happy mood, threatening to abolish it. Frankly, it was quite rude.
I did my best to ignore the haunting thought and sat up, leaning back against the headboard and all the colorful pillows tossed around the bed. I hadn’t had a nightmare last night, which was a welcome reprieve. The bed was comfortable and warm, and I’d felt safe, something I didn’t really realize I’d been missing.
Tucking the blankets around me, I yanked a bright-blue pillow into my lap and hugged it to my chest. Maggie said a lot of these pillows were for decoration, but I couldn’t bring myself to toss them off the bed. Having this many felt luxurious, and I liked it.
Even though I tried to ignore the previous thought, I couldn’t. It was there and it would remain until I acknowledged it. Maybe I didn’t belong here, but I didn’t know where I did. This seemed like a good place to be while I figured it out.
Anyway, who said I didn’t belong? I was invited and I wanted to be here. That counted for something. Right?
A scraping noise caught my attention, and my body stiffened. Fear flooded me so fast it made me dizzy. My first reaction was to dive back under the covers and pull a pillow over my head. The scraping didn’t stop, though, and I felt my hands begin to shake. Lifting the pillow just slightly, I glanced across the room to the French doors. Curtains were drawn across them, keeping out the light. I imagined someone standing on the other side, trying to pick the lock, trying to come in.
He’s coming for me.
A high-pitched bark made me jump. “Ah!” I gasped, not expecting the sound at all. Then I started to laugh.
“Elmo!” I said, flinging back the covers and pillows to jump out of the bed. The second I opened the door, the little dog rushed inside, circling my legs and jumping up so I would pet him.
I laughed and picked him up, sitting on the bed with him. He rolled around in the blankets and rubbed against the pillows. “I guess I’m not the only one who thinks this bed is comfy,” I said and rubbed his belly.
His tail wagged against the sheets, and I smiled.
“Elmo!” Maggie gasped, poking her head into the room. “I’m sorry, Amnesia. Soon as he came in from outside, he ran off to find you.”
“It’s okay. I like him.”
“You’re a naughty thing,” Maggie told Elmo. He wagged his tail some more, as if it were a compliment. “Come on now. You come with me and leave Amnesia alone.”
“Oh, he’s fine.” I assured her as he poked me with his nose for a pet.
“I’m making breakfast if you’d like some. Just come up when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I think I may take a shower first, if that’s okay.”
“You don’t have to ask. This is your home now. Do what you want.”
Elmo ran after Maggie when she disappeared, and I gathered up some clean clothes to take into the bathroom with me. I thought longingly for a moment of picking out my own things to wear, of shopping and trying on clothes, seeing what I liked. I didn’t have any money, though, something I was going to need.
The entire time I showered, I pondered getting a job and wondered if any places in town were hiring. After deciding to ask Eddie about it, I toweled off and slipped on my pair of jeans, the white T-shirt that went with everything, and tugged on a pullover sweater in a color that reminded me of pumpkins. The sweater had a wide neckline and was slightly too big, so it slid down over one shoulder, revealing the T-shirt I had on beneath it.
I stared at my face in the mirror, my freckles, pale skin, and brown eyes. To be honest, I hadn’t thought much about the way I looked until now because it seemed there were so many other things to worry about. There still was, but eventually, a girl had to look in the mirror. Eventually, I had to get to know myself.
“Who are you?” I whispered to my reflection.
My face wasn’t quite as gaunt as it was when I first woke up. My cheekbones weren’t sunken into my face like before. Though I was still pale, I had some color to my skin. As I smoothed on some cream that Maggie gave me, I pondered the way I looked. Sort of natural, like a girl who never bothered much with her appearance before. My eyebrows weren’t perfectly shaped like the women on TV. My teeth weren’t pearly white, and there was a big chip in one front tooth. I wondered why I never seemed to care what I looked like, because I found myself caring now. The broken tooth bothered me, as if it were a reminder of something terrible. The thick, full brows over my eyes felt too untouched, and my hair… oh, my hair.
The chunks missing out of the long lengths got caught in the comb and seemed to stick out, where the rest would hang straight. I hadn’t worried much about it before, but now, knowing I was going to be going around town with Eddie, I felt self-conscious. As if my hair were a walking reminder of where I’d been. A place I couldn’t remember.
Sighing, I put down the comb and left the bathroom. Maggie was in the kitchen, making pancakes, and my stomach grumbled the second the scent hit me.
“That smells so good,” I crooned, entering the kitchen. “What can I help with?”
Elmo beat his tail against the floor when I stepped in but then went back to attacking the bone between his paws.
“Not a thing!” Maggie said. “Help yourself!”
I made a plate, then sat in the window room and watched a few squirrels gather acorns down in the yard.
“Do you need a ride into town?” Maggie asked, joining me at the table.
“No, thank you,” I replied. “Eddie said he would pick me up.”
“He’s a good boy.” Maggie smiled fondly. “And rather handsome, too.”
He was handsome. “Why doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” I asked abruptly.
Maggie glanced up, then lifted her coffee to take a drink. “Well, I think there’s been a few girls in the past.”
“But?” I pushed. Eddie seemed too special to be single. Surely all the other girls in town saw it, too.
“Eddie has been pretty focused on the general store. He’s going to be taking it over soon. I think he’s just had other things on his mind besides dating.”
There was more to it than the general store. I knew.
“He seems pretty smitten with you, though,” Maggie said, a twinkle in her eyes.
Warmth spread in me and my lips tingled when I thought of the kiss we shared in the truck. My first kiss. My best kiss. I felt so alive when I was with him. So… whole. It was an odd way to feel, I supposed. But for a girl who had so many pieces missing, feeling whole was important. It dawned on me how much Eddie gave me. How much I’d come to rely on him. It was selfish, especially when I couldn’t offer anything in return.
“What’s the matter?” Maggie asked, sensing the dark turn in my thoughts.
“I don’t understand why he spends so much time with me.” I admitted.
Maggie swallowed, her eyes widened. “He likes you.”
Such a generic answer. “But why?” I pressed.
“He sees something in you, something that maybe no one else does.”
“Do you think I’m pretty, Maggie?” I whispered, pushing aside my pancakes.
“Oh my, yes.” She nodded, her dark eyes widening. “You actually remind me of someone I used to know… She was beautiful, too, on the outside and the inside.”
“Really? Who?”
Maggie glanced away, her eyes almost shuttered. “Her name was Ann. She was my best friend. She died many years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I murmured, feeling guilty for asking. Eddie did say Maggie had known a lot of loss in life. I couldn’t imagine losing a friend and a husband.
“Don’t be sorry.” She reached across the table and patted my hand. “Having you here makes me feel close to her again.”
I squeezed her hand and smiled. “I’m glad.”
“Now,” she said, perking up. “Tell me why you would ask such a question. Are you still wondering about Eddie?”
“Yes and no,” I said. “It’s still a little strange to look in the mirror and not recognize myself.”
Maggie nodded. “That would be strange.”
“And my hair,” I said, reaching up to the damp strands. “Something about it really bothers me.”
“Well, I have to say,” Maggie agreed, “the cut is rather odd.”
My eyes flew to hers, and we both laughed out loud.
After our laughter died down, Maggie asked, “You’re going into town today with Eddie?”
I nodded.
“Why don’t you call him? Tell him you’ll meet him there instead. I have just thing for you,” she said, getting up and going out into the kitchen.
“What is it?” I called after her.
“You’ll see!” she called back.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I agreed.