Page 50 of Amnesia

“First stop.” I promised.

“I’d love that.”

“I’ll come by late morning, just before lunch. I’ll take you out.” Like a date.

She nodded enthusiastically.

I smiled fast. I liked knowing when I would see her again. “You know,” I said, taking her hand, “I’m used to seeing you every single day.”

“Me, too.” Her lips curved up.

Behind us, the front door opened. Maggie poked her head out the glass storm door. “Amnesia!” she said. “Just in time. Your room is all ready.”

I nodded at Am, encouraging her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” She agreed softly.

After I put all her bags inside, I came back out, hesitating in front of her. I didn’t want to leave. I hated walking away from her.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, smiling up at me.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”

Her breath caught a little, which was very satisfying. “Bye.”

“Go inside, Am,” I ordered quietly, reaching around her to hold open the door. “I’m not leaving ‘til you’re in the house safe.”

She went in, the glass door closing between us.

The second I pulled out of the driveway, I started looking forward to tomorrow.

“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.”