Page 16 of Unlocking Melodies

A shoebox tucked in the back corner caught my eye. Inside, ticket stubs and backstage passes told the story of a life I couldn't remember living. The Killers at Madison Square Garden. Arcade Fire in Montreal. A broken guitar string in a small envelope labeled simply “First string to break on stage - L.”

My stomach growled, reminding me that existential crises burned calories. Time to face my hosts - friends? employers? benefactors? The social etiquette guide for “How to Act Around People Who Know Everything About You When You Know Nothing About Them” was frustratingly thin.

The walk to the main house gave me time to practice my totally fine, definitely not freaking out face. The morning sun painted everything in that perfect golden hour light thatprobably looked great on Instagram. Past Jimmy had probably posted about it. Past Jimmy seemed like the kind of guy who had his social media game together.

A delivery van pulled up to the ranch gates, and the driver waved with the easy familiarity of routine. “Jimmy! Man, glad to see you up and about. We were all worried when we heard-”

I waved back with what I hoped was the right amount of recognition. Too little would seem rude, too much would be lying. I'd started mentally cataloging these interactions on a scale from awkwardly painful to actively want to crawl into a hole.

This one landed somewhere around “mildly uncomfortable” until the driver called out, “Hey, you still want your usual order?”

I had a usual order. Of course I had a usual order. Past Jimmy probably had usual orders everywhere.

"Actually," I started, ready to admit I had no idea what my usual order was, but a hand landed on my shoulder.

"I've got it covered, Mark," Caleb called from behind me. "Just the regular delivery. Oh, and that other thing we talked about?"

Mark gave a knowing nod and reached back into his truck, pulling out a sleek box that definitely wasn't filled with pickle-flavored anything.

Caleb handed me the box. Inside was a brand new phone, already wearing what looked suspiciously like my preferred case style. "Figured you might want a fresh start."

The gesture hit something in my chest. My old phone sat in a drawer like a time capsule I couldn't bring myself to open - too many memories, too many passwords I couldn't remember, too many pieces of Past Jimmy I wasn't ready to face.

"You didn't have to-"

"Yeah, we did." He nudged me toward the house. "Breakfast first, though. Then we can deal with your very specific and slightly concerning addiction to pickle-flavored snacks. And maybe set up your new phone with a password you'll actually remember this time."

The unspoken understanding in his voice made my throat tight. Trust Caleb to know exactly what I needed - even before I did.

“That's my usual order? Really?”

“Three bags a week, like clockwork.” He grinned. “Some things about you are still deeply questionable, memory or not.”

I followed him inside, adding apparently loves weird chips to my growing list of Jimmy Reed facts.At least my taste in snacks was memorable, even if nothing else was.

Breakfast with Liam and Caleb turned out to be an oddly hilarious crash course in being myself. They passed information like relay batons, tag-teaming my personality.

“Coffee's ready,” Caleb said, sliding a mug across the counter. “Two sugars, no cream.”

“And don't touch the strawberry jam,” Liam added quickly, snatching it away. “You're allergic.”

“Severely,” Caleb emphasized. “Found that out the hard way at the Fourth of July picnic.”

I picked up the mug they'd handed me - black ceramic covered in musical notes - and watched their expressions. “Let me guess. This is my favorite mug?”

“You threw a fit when Caleb used it once,” Liam confirmed.

“In my defense,” I tried the coffee, “this is really good coffee.”

“See?” Caleb nudged Liam. “Still a coffee snob. Some things are just hardwired.”

The normalcy felt forced, but I appreciated the effort. They kept up a steady stream of chatter while I worked my waythrough eggs and toast, casually dropping Jimmy Facts™ like they were reading from a user manual for my personality.

“After breakfast we should probably head down for morning feed,” Caleb said absently. “Your girl's been missing you lately.”

“My what now?”

“You have a horse,” Liam said carefully. “Sort of.”

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