Page 49 of Amnesia

“It was unexpected. It was hard. Maggie’s had a lot of loss in her life.”

“Maybe that’s why she’s been so kind to me,” Am murmured. “She’s very compassionate.”

“Maybe,” I echoed, a lump in my throat.

“Are you sure it’s okay I stay here?” She worried, her hands wringing in her lap.

My hand settled over her clasped ones. “You’re going to like it here. Maggie’s great.”

“It’s hard to just…” Her voice trailed off.

“Hard to what?” I pressed.

“Hard to walk into a strange place and call it home.”

“Maybe it’s not home,” I told her. “Maybe it’s just a safe place to stay until you figure out where home is.”

Brown eyes shifted to me and softened. “Think it will be hard to figure out where home is?”

“I think you’ll find exactly where you belong.”

Her smile was big and bright, the freckles on her nose and cheeks bunching up, and my heart turned over.

“I’ll get your stuff,” I said and catapulted out of the truck. At her side, I hefted the bag over my shoulder and gathered a few of the gift bags from the party. She had the flowers in her arms already, looking so fucking adorable I shifted all the shit I was holding into one arm so I could slip the other around her waist and lift her out of the truck.

Her body slid down mine when I stood her in the driveway, but I was remiss in moving away. I just wasn’t ready yet. The autumn breeze ruffled her hair and a strand blew into her eyes. I grasped it, rolling it between my fingers.

“I don’t know why it’s like that,” she said suddenly, almost as if the words just burst out without thought.

My fingers paused and my eyes shifted over to hers. “What is?”

“My hair,” she said, ducking her face. “It’s all uneven and chopped up.”

“It doesn’t make you any less beautiful.” I promised. I did wonder about her hair, the way it was almost butchered in some places. The color was beautiful, dark blond, almost golden beneath the sun. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would hack it up that way.

“Really?” she whispered.

“Duh,” I said and rolled my eyes.

She giggled. “I don’t like it.”

“Change it then,” I said, dropping the strand and moving back a step. “You can do whatever you want, Am.”

Her eyes lit up as if her own independence wasn’t something that occurred to her. “Maybe I will.”

Catching her hand, we walked across the driveway and down the sidewalk toward the front door. The street itself was a quiet one, with sidewalks and large trees whose branches shaded the road. All the lawns were well taken care of, and many of the neighbors had plants and flowers dotting their property.

“You still have my number, right?” I asked when we stopped at the front door.

She nodded.

“Use it anytime you want, okay? Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“I’m nervous,” she rushed out.

I dropped everything I held near the door and pulled her into my arms. “It’s going to be okay,” I spoke against her hair. I felt her nod against my chest, her arms clutched at my back. After a few moments, I pulled back. “How about I come get you tomorrow and give you a tour of the town? Show you around.”

“Can I see your store?” she asked, interested.

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