Page 51 of Amnesia

“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.”

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