Page 25 of Unlocking Melodies

“He means Ethan,” Caleb supplied helpfully, then immediately looked like he regretted it.

“Who is apparently terrible at subtle observation.” Riley set a coffee cup in front of me. “But don't worry, I won't print anything about your star-crossed whatever-it-is.”

“There's nothing to print,” I said, but my voice sounded uncertain even to me. “I barely know him.”

Both of them got that look - the one that meant there was a story there I couldn't remember.

“Right,” Riley said after a moment, his journalist's instinct clearly warring with friendly concern. “Well, enjoy the coffee. And if you ever want to make a statement about anything... or anyone...”

“Out,” Caleb pointed to the door, but he was fighting a smile.

The coffee was perfect - exactly how I apparently took it. Another detail about myself I had to learn from others.

“Supply run?” Caleb suggested, probably sensing my mood shift. “The feed store's usually pretty low-key.”

He lied.

Buck's Feed & Supply was many things, but low-key wasn't one of them. The owner, a bear of a man with a beard that probably had its own zip code, practically vaulted the counter when we walked in.

“Jimmy! My fellow warrior from the Battle of the Bands!” He caught my blank look and quickly added, “Right, the memory thing. Well, let me tell you, you've never seen anyone play bass like you did that night. Totally destroyed those hipster kids from the city.”

“I play bass?”

“Played. Past tense. After The Incident.” He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully.

“What incident?”

“We don't talk about The Incident,” Caleb cut in smoothly. “Doctor's orders.”

Buck was already loading up our usual order - apparently Past Jimmy had a standing arrangement involving specific brands and quantities I'd never remember on my own. He tossed in extra treats for Melody with a wink.

“On the house. That horse of yours got my daughter through her breakup last year. Something about her 'gentle energy' or whatever.”

The line at the register brought its own adventures. A young guy in paint-splattered coveralls practically bounced over to shake my hand.

“Jimmy! Man, I have to thank you again. Sarah loved the proposal setup - the fairy lights in the gazebo, the timing with the sunset, everything you suggested was perfect.”

I managed what I hoped was a congratulatory smile. “Glad it worked out...”

“Sloan,” Caleb supplied under his breath.

“Sloan! Right. And Sarah is...”

“Diner Sarah,” Sloan grinned. “Not watching-joggers Sarah.”

When I tried to pay, Buck waved me off. “Just put it on your tab. You know the system.”

I didn't know the system. I didn't know anything about this town where apparently I played bass, dispensed relationship advice, and had mysterious tabs everywhere. But everyone else seemed so certain about who I was, even if I wasn't.

“You okay?” Caleb asked as we loaded the truck. “I know it's a lot.”

I watched Sloan help an elderly woman with her bags, remembered how genuine his gratitude had been about the proposal advice.

“Past Jimmy seems like he was a good guy,” I said finally.

“Past Jimmy is still you,” Caleb said quietly. “Even if you can't remember it yet. The core stuff - caring about people, wanting to help - that's not memory. That's just who you are.”

“Yeah?” I thought about mysterious incidents and battles of bands and handsome billionaires who apparently stared at me when I wasn't looking. “Then why does it feel like I'm playing a part in someone else's life?”

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