Page 137 of Amnesty

And I was okay with that.

The lake could have my past. In trade, I got a future.

I was given amnesty.

Freedom.

There were remnants from before, fragments of clarity the lake showed me. They were horrible and partly unwanted, but not unnecessary.

I wouldn’t understand the true gift of amnesty if everything remained forgotten.

So there we stood on the shore by the water, which on the day of our wedding was calm and peaceful. The surface so smooth it looked like glass and reflected the beautiful Maine landscape like a mirror. The early spring day was cold, but all I felt was the sun’s rays shining down upon us.

As we said our vows, as I pledged to love him forever—for richer or poorer, in memory and amnesia, even after death—I looked across the water at the island and smiled.

“For the first time,” the minister announced, “the beginning of a new life together—”

“A new era.” Eddie cut in, reaching out to palm my softly rounding belly with his oversized hand.

A tiny flutter erupted within me, but it wasn’t butterflies, not today. Today it was the stirring of our yet-to-be-born child.

(PS: That’s what happens when you’re so in love you never once think about birth control.)

(PSS: Sometimes not thinking—not knowing—results in something wonderful.)

People on the grass chuckled. I covered my new husband’s hand with mine. “A new era.” I agreed.

The minister inclined his head and smiled. “May I introduce, officially, Mr. Eddie Donovan and his wife, Mrs. Amn—”

Both Eddie and I glanced up, wondering if he would remember.

“Mrs.AmnestyDonovan.”

Turns out Amnesia wasn’t a good fit for me anymore. I was no longer a “complete memory wipe.” I was full.

So incredibly full, and that in itself was my freedom.

I smiled so wide, but it was short lived because Eddie dragged me up against him and crushed his mouth over mine.

Water rushed up to our ankles, Lake Loch granting us approval. People clapped, and the cold spring breeze blew.

Behind us, the minister cleared his throat. We broke the kiss.

Eddie grabbed my hand and we turned, backs toward Rumor Island, facing forward to our lake home, our family, and our friends.

I looked first at Maggie, who was crying happy tears. She blew me a kiss, and I smiled.

Forgoing the tradition of turning around, I lifted the white bouquet of roses I held and tossed it right at Mary Beth. Her eyes widened when it fell into her arms, and I winked. I was totally betting on her and Robbie.

With one hand in Eddie’s and another on the child we created, we walked out of the water and into the waiting crowd.

“Just wait until you see the cake I made,” Joline said, rushing to our side. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“I’m sure it is,” I told her sincerely.

Jeremy stepped up behind her. “Good Lord, woman, leave them to bask in their wedded glow. The cake can wait.” Joline gave him the evil eye, and he patted Eddie on the shoulder. “Enjoy that glow while it lasts.”

Eddie turned to me, sweeping me into his chest. “I think it’s never going to fade away.”

---