Page 18 of Forbidden Whispers

Chapter 6

“So, he truly doesn’t remember anything?” Jaime asked. She was sitting on the floor of her living room across from Maggie while fourteen-month-old Emma toddled between them. Emma was busily pulling toys out of the toybox beside Jaime and carrying them over to drop into Maggie’s lap.

Maggie had texted Jaime the minute Noah dropped her off at her apartment after their coffee shop visit. Finding out that her friend was free, Maggie had rushed over to discuss the latest development in the situation with Noah.

“Nothing,” Maggie said, blowing a stray curl out of her eyes and wrapping her arms around the chubby little girl, making her giggle by showering kisses all over her soft, pink cheeks.

“What could make that happen?” Jaime addressed her husband, Jack, who was seated in a nearby recliner, his face buried in a thick book. He lifted his head and looked at his wife. “What did you say, hon?”

Jaime smiled and shook her head. “It’s the weekend, babe. That means you don’t have to read about the latest in environmental science restoration plans or whatever that massive textbook is about!”

Jack gave his wife a bemused smile as he often did. Maggie reflected on how opposite, yet how perfect they were for each other.

Jaime was the kind of woman other women loved to hate. She was tall with a perfect, hourglass figure—even post-baby—and wide-set bluer-than-blue eyes. Her luxurious blond hair was currently twisted into a messy bun atop her head. But even with that, and the old joggers and T-shirt she wore, one flash of that dazzling smile could find even the most oblivious man falling over himself to do whatever she asked. And her husband was no exception.

Maggie switched her gaze to Jack. His lanky frame barely filled out the fashionable khaki shorts and short-sleeved button-down shirt that his wife had bought him. He was two inches shorter than Jaime, with kind brown eyes and a mop of dark hair that always looked like it needed to be combed. His nose was just a bit too large for his thin face and the square, black hipster eyeglasses he wore—another selection by his wife—were currently balanced at the end of it. He pushed them up with one finger. “I never have time during the week to read for fun like this,” he defended himself.

“Fun?” Jaime shot Maggie a look that made her press her lips together to stop a laugh from erupting.

Jack marked his spot with a bookmark and set the massive tome on the table beside him. “You have my full attention now, my love.”

Jaime flashed him one of her heart-melting smiles then summarized her conversation with Maggie and repeated her question.

Jack frowned and rubbed a finger up and down his long nose. “Some people experience a blackout effect from too much alcohol. That can lead to a type of amnesia known as Wernicke-Korsakoff’s psychosis.”

Maggie shook her head. “Apparently, he doesn’t drink.”

“Hmmm, well, it could be drugs. Or a hit on the head? You said he had a bruise on his face?”

“Yes, I tried to get him to go see a doctor, but he refused,” Maggie said. “He just wants to focus on finding Valentina.”

“He probably should get checked out, because it’s really hard to guess how it may have happened without a medical diagnosis. However, most amnesia does usually resolve without treatment. I’m sure your efforts to retrace his steps could help his memory return.”

He turned his attention back to Jaime. “Would you like me to take our little angel and put her down for her nap?”

Emma was snuggled onto Jaime’s lap now, eyes drooping as her head lay against her mother’s chest. Jaime nodded. “Yes, please.”

He gently lifted the sleepy child and, cradling her against him, carried her out of the room.

Jaime got up and pulled Maggie to her feet, leading her over to the sofa beneath the room’s large picture window. She plopped down on it, tucking her legs beneath her and angling toward her friend. “Enough about his amnesia. Let’s get back to the more important part of this conversation,” Jaime said. “Your date tonight.”

“It’s not exactly a date,” Maggie said, feeling uncomfortable.

“Uh, you and your high school crush are going out to eat at one of the nicest restaurants in Whispering Pines,” Jaime said. “It’s a date.”

“Jaime, our goal is to find Valentina!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get all that. But what are you going to wear?” She leaned toward Maggie with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

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