Page 56 of Forget Me Knot

“Stop,” I groan, leaning back in my seat. “We aren’t… Dinah and I are waiting.” I’m not embarrassed about the decision, but I don’t exactly like discussing this with my siblings.

“Whew.” Winnie waves the proverbial sweat from her brow. “I was afraid I was gonna have to stop eating, and this is delicious, Jacky.”

Owen gives me a nod of approval, and it sends warmth through me. The silent exchange, though small, feels likeus.Like the unspoken language my brother and I have always shared.

“I saw the doctor today,” I announce, throwing back a bite.

“Oh, with the psych ward? You still crazy?” Winnie asks, putting a huge bite into her mouth.

I throw a potato chunk at her, hitting her straight in the nose. “No, you loon. I saw neuro today. I’ve been having…” I hesitate. I don’t want to get their hopes up, but when I remember the way Dinah was so brave on her birthday, sharing a piece of herself with Emory she’d kept locked away for so long, I want to be courageous, too. “I’m having memories. So is Jackson.”

Both Winnie and Owen freeze like cartoons, forks paused just before their open, slack-jawed mouths, eyes widened in shock.

“What?”

“Are you serious?!”

“What does it mean?”

“How are the migraines…? Do Mom and Dad know…? What about Dinah?”

They parade a series of questions that I anticipated but don’t have the answers to, so I simply shrug and take a bite, letting them work out their excitement on their own for a minute.

“I’m not sure of anything. They’ll run tests and do all the normal scans and everything in the next few weeks. I’ll meet with the neuropsych for it all and maybe try some new cognitive therapy the doc mentioned. He’s… hopeful.” I rest my hands on the table, and on either side of me, without pause, both my siblings place their hands on top of mine. “I just… I guess I wanted you both to know. I feel good. I don’t remember much, but I feel like…”

“Are you scared?” Winnie asks when I can't quite get my thoughts together.

I shake my head and turn my hand over, giving hers a squeeze. “No, Win. I’m not scared at all. I feel like no matter what happens, even if I can’t be the old me—if the doctors never figure out what’s going on—maybe I can still choose to be something new.

“And what I do know is that I wouldn’t have gotten to this place if it weren’t for the two of you. Covering Petals. Taking care of me when I’m sick. Dealing with my moods… Giving me time. I… Thank you.”

They both sniffle into their dinners but don’t last long before abandoning the meal altogether, coming at me from either side, and pressing me into a group hug. I may not have all of Jackson’s memories, nor he mine, but I know that this moment is the best I—J. Jones—have felt in three years.

“I know, Mr. Cotten. You're a very lucky man. Mrs. Cotten will love the tulips.” No matter how many flowers I throw at this man weekly, I cannot get him to stop yapping about his personal life.

“You never know when you’ll need a bouquet, son.” He raises his brows and nods his head towards the tent across the streetwhere Dinah’s set up for the Saturday morning farmer’s market. “Keep that in mind when ya eventually mess things up. A woman wants flowers not donuts.”

I want to tell him he doesn’t knowmywoman. Dinah very well might have a diary entry hidden away with poems dedicated to those raspberry lemon custard-filled donuts. She raved about them for an hour last week, so I immediately placed an order for a dozen with Mrs. Holmes at TheGravy Boat.Though I didn’t personally get to see her reaction, Jackson’s notes on the matter lead me to believe that my girl may like a bouquet now and then, but she’s far more easily swayed by sugar and carbs.

Dressed in her distressed, black overalls, a white top, and the pink tennis shoes I bought her, I can hardly keep my eyes off her. Dinah is spring itself—daisies blooming, bright and cheery. Her hair, tucked behind her ears, falls in fluid waves like a field of wildflowers. A strawberry patch, ripe and fragrant. Everything in me wants to stalk across the street right now and tangle my hands in it.

When she looks up, catching my blatant gawking, she answers back with a flirtatious gaze of her own and laughter in her eyes. But something in this exchange hits differently. A thought blooms, igniting my heart.

I’m in love with her.

Overcome with wonder, my breath staggers out of step with my heart beat. I love Dinah Knot. It’s so simple and so profound, and I don’t quite know how I ended up here so quickly, but here I am.

She says something to one of her employees, but doesn’t take her eyes off mine as she begins a tantalizing walk across the street. I think Mr. Cotten may finally have taken pity on me and left, because it’s only Dinah and me on what was, only a moment before, a bustling Main Street. I hear and see and feel only her.In the breeze. In the warmth against my skin. In the excitement building, pressing up against my sternum.

The spring sun shines down on her, and I’m a sunflower, aligning every part of myself in her direction, just hoping to catch some of her light. All my focus and every ounce of energy narrows in on the woman sauntering towards me.

But then something in my memory shifts, and Dinah’s suddenly standing in a crowded room.

She’s not wearing pink shoes but mint, and her gorgeous strawberry blond hair is curled perfectly—the way she styles it when she’s trying to make a good impression. The cropped Pretzel Queen t-shirt and pale jeans she’s wearing hug her curves like they were made solely for her. But there’s a radiance about her, a captivating sweetness that’s even more compelling… I want—no, need—to be closer to her. The single-minded necessity to pursue and know her, consumes all my senses.

Unwittingly, I take a step towards her, but get dragged back to my senses when a familiar throat clears at my side. I’m brought back to reality but know, in my mind’s eye, I just saw Dinah for the first time… again.

In real time, she’s almost made it to my tent when, beside me, the throat clears a second time.

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