Page 52 of Amnesia

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.”

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