Page 26 of It's a Date (Again)

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, we do. You don’t even remember how we looked at you before,” she argues.

“First of all, rude. And second of all, no, you don’t. You both look at me like you feel sorry for me.” I glance down at the phone and swipe through the various setup instructions, including the forgot password process, for obvious reasons. Robbie gave me a handwritten note earlier with my Apple ID and answers to any potential security questions, so I could hopefully get back into my account without having to call Verizon. He didn’t know my password, but it seems he knew everything else—my mother’s maiden name, where I attended elementary school, my childhood best friend’s name, the street I grew up on, and the make and model of my first car.

“Well, I do feel bad,” Maya says.

“Me too,” Robbie adds.

“I know you do, but I don’t want anyone’s sympathy. That’s why I don’t want to tell Debbie.”

“But it’s Debbie,” Maya says.

“So? She’s just my downstairs neighbor.” I huff.

They exchange a worried look. Maya takes a seat in the chair kitty-corner to the couch. Robbie sets his laptop on the end table and repositions himself so he’s partially facing me. It feels like this is going to be a serious conversation, and I don’t think I’m ready for that. I let out a heavy sigh and give them my attention anyway.

“Debbie isn’t just your downstairs neighbor,” Maya says, leaning forward in her seat.

“Who is she then?”

Robbie clears his throat. “You know when you asked me about that photo in your bedroom, and I told you that they were your parents and they had passed away?”

I nod. Tears pool in the rims of my eyes. I knew I wasn’t ready for a serious conversation.

“Your parents died in a car accident in December of 2009,” Maya says.

My heart rate quickens so much, I can feel it in every part of my body. It’s that same punch-in-the-gut feeling I got yesterday when I looked at the photo of my parents. “What does that have to do with Debbie?”

“Peyton, you were in the accident too,” Maya explains. “There was a freak snowstorm that came out of nowhere, and it caused a pileup on the highway. Debbie was there, but she was able to stop her vehicle and pull it off to the side, avoiding the crash. She’s a medical doctor, retired now, and she went searching for people to help while waiting for the ambulances to arrive. It was impossible for them to get there quickly given the weather and the size of the accident. She came across your parents’ vehicle and tried to help them, but they were already gone. Then she found you in the back. She saved your life. When the ambulance finally got to you, Debbie came with. She stayed with you until you were better, and she’s been there for you ever since. You spent all your holidays with her after that, and when you moved to the city, she rented this duplex out to you for far below what she could get for it. It’s practically a steal. So Debbie isn’t just your downstairs neighbor. She’s your family, and she’s basically your guardian angel.” Maya’s voice cracks. It’s the first time I’ve seen her serious and emotional.

Tears fall all at once, and my lip trembles. Robbie pats my leg and hands me a tissue, telling me it’s okay. But I don’t know if it is. Maybe the reason I can’t remember anything is because it’s all so awful. How did I survive that? And I don’t mean physically. I mean emotionally and mentally. Maya pulls a tissue from the box and wipes at her own eyes. I can’t believe what Debbie has done for me. She’s saved me ... more than once.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I say, looking down at my lap.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Robbie says.

“Can I tell her tomorrow?”

They both nod.

“Yeah, of course,” he says.

Maya asks, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, it’s just a lot. I didn’t realize how much I had been through before losing my memory, and now, I’m not so sure I want to remember.”

“Don’t say that,” Robbie says.

Maya clears her throat and pulls her chin in. “The bad things that happened to you weren’t your whole life, even though at times they felt like it. You have so many good memories, Peyton. Trust me, they’re worth remembering, I promise.”

I glance down at my phone, hoping what they’re saying is true.

The phone setup process finishes and several missed text messages pop up on the screen. I start to read through them. They’re from the guys.

Tyler’s text reads,Good morning, beautiful. I just got to work but wanted to let you know I was thinking about you, and I can’t wait for our date on Thursday night

The next one is from Nash.Hey, Peyton. Hope you had a good morning. How are the chocolates?

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