Page 49 of Meet Me at Christmas
He turned toward her. “I thought you weren’t going to tell me anything about myself.” His eyes were full of tenderness.
She realized then that she held the key to who he was, and their dance of information was pulling him closer to her, something she wasn’t entirely sure how to manage. “I don’t have any right answers. I’m trying—”
“Well, given that you research this stuff for a living, ifyoudon’t have answers, I sure don’t,” he said, his signature humor surfacing beneath the intensity of the moment. He sobered quickly. “You make me want to remember every single detail.”
She stared into his blue eyes and drank in those familiar features, taking in the comfort of having him on the sofa where they’d spent so many hours talking and giggling as kids. Her heart ached for those old days, but his confession was a double-edged sword. She had the urge to run once more, like she’d had when she left that day, but there was nowhere to go this time. She was forced to face the issue head on.
“There’s nothing better than family,”Pop had told her just before she left. She could hear him again.“I’m not sure you’ll find anything that’s better.”
“Maybe we should just start over…” she said. “We’re different people now. Can’t we start again, right now? Maybe be friends?” She offered him the gold band.
He took it from her and put it in his pocket. “I’d like that.” He gave her a warm smile. “I’m sorry I burst in so late. I just needed to know… I’ll let you enjoy what’s left of the night.”
As Henry stood, she rose and grabbed his arm, not wanting him to leave, but also not having a good reason to ask him to stay. She dropped her hand, and they faced each other, caught in limbo between their old lives and their new ones.
Fifteen
Running a little late after working and not having heard from Henry that morning, Stella decided to drive herself to the hospital. During the drive, she went over ways to approach the therapy session today. It would be difficult to sit silently in the back of the room, but she knew she needed to remain as professional as possible.
“Stella, I’m glad I caught you,” Dr. Astley said as she clipped toward her in a Vanderbilt hallway. “I tried to call you this morning.”
Stella stopped and checked her phone. Sure enough, she had a missed call. “Oh, I’m sorry I missed this.” She put her phone back in her purse. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve had a slight change.”
Stella shifted the weight of her computer bag on her shoulder, her mind still full. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“Good?”
Dr. Astley slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “Okay, the good news is that I got you another subject for your article. His name is Herbert Ferguson.”
“Oh, yes! I met him in the hallway. That’s great.” But something on Dr. Astley’s face gave her pause. “And the bad news?”
“Henry Dutton has left our program.”
Stella’s shoulders fell, her bag slipping to the crook of her arm. “What? Why?”
“He called this morning and said he didn’t want to continue.”
What in the world was Henry doing? He was so intent on regaining his memories, and he’d been progressing well. Why would he decide to just quit therapy? It made no sense.
“I’m sorry you came all this way this morning. Mr. Ferguson isn’t coming in until later today.”
“That’s okay,” Stella replied, although nothing about the situation with Henry was okay. “I’ll come back later.”
“All right. He’s coming in at three o’clock.”
“Thank you for letting me know.”
“No problem.”
Stella immediately exited the hospital, got into her car, and drove straight to Henry’s. She bumped along the gravel road between the main farmhouse and the cabin, parking out front next to his truck. After hopping out and bounding up the steps, she rapped on the front door.
“Henry!” she called, knocking. When no one answered, she peered through the window to find that the light in the kitchen was on. She knocked again, harder. “Henry! It’s Stella!”
Finally, the door opened. “Is something on fire?”
