Page 8 of Begin Again
“Had to let some of my best hands go.” Joseph sighed from the head of the eight-top wooden table in the dining room. “That’s why I could use your help around here. In recent years, my health hasn’t been the best. I’ve had to cut back on the manual side of things. And Charlie, God bless her, she tries but can only do so much.”
I had no qualms about helping out, I was grateful to have a real bed to sleep in and food that wasn’t being pushed out of a hospital kitchen.
When I went to bed last night, my muscles instantly relaxed against the mattress, which was surprisingly plush—far better than the one I had been sleeping on at the hospital. But even so, I struggled to fall asleep, and when I finally did, it felt like two seconds later my alarm was blaring in my ear. And that’s how I ended up walking into the barn at five o’clock this morning to get a better idea of what needed to be done.
Charlie’s SUV was back underneath the carport when I stepped out the front door this morning.Goody. That meant I would have to deal with her at some point and with whatever attitude she decided to throw my way. The thought gave me a headache. Look, I get it, she didn’t like the idea of a strange man walking into the house, but what’s the difference between me and one of their typical bed and breakfast guests? Minus the lack of an identity…
When I gave the barn a good look-over this morning, it became obvious it was a good thing I decided to start there. The roof had been patched before the winter, but it still needed to be completely repaired. A handful of pieces of siding needed to be replaced—some were broken and others were missing completely. One of the doors that enclosed the indoor riding arena needed to be put back on the track. Two stalls needed the floors repaired, and one gate needed to be put back on the hinge. And finally, one of the main barn doors needed to be replaced due to a chunk missing from the bottom and wood rot. That didn’t even include the room that looked like a makeshift tack room in total disarray, seemingly left unfinished by the prior ranch hands.
I have already pulled the main entry door off the hinge to get a better look at the damage, and it was obvious the whole thingneeded to be replaced. Repairing it would be more work than building a new one, meaning I will have to replace the other one so they match—nonetheless, it seems like the easier option. As I stared at the door, I wondered if I knewhowto do something like that. The knowledge of deciding to build two new doors versus repairing the one came naturally from somewhere within the depths of my mind. That meant I must knowsomethingabout construction…Right?
I’m disappointed when I reach for the coffee tumbler I found in the cabinet this morning and find it practically empty. With a heavy sigh, I take my jacket from the hook on the wall and shrug it back over my shoulders, heading toward the house to get a refill and change clothes. The temperatures haven’t warmed up from earlier this morning, but I won’t need as many layers as I anticipated. Even though the barn needs more work than I hoped, it maintains a good amount of warmth within its walls. Once I get into the thick of things, I doubt I’ll want this many layers on.
Walking into the house, I barely step over the threshold before I hear voices down the hall from the kitchen. And I immediately recognize them as Charlie and Joseph, the former expressing her latest grievance to the latter. I use my free hand to quietly close the door behind me, trying to conceal my arrival a little longer—and if you’re wondering, yes, I greased the hell out of that damn hinge before I did anything else this morning.
“How can you be so naive?” Charlie huffs.
“Charlie—”
“No! Those people have been after this place for years.Years, Dad! Just last week they left a message on the answering machine trying to set up a meeting with you. Now all of the sudden this guy shows up with amnesia.”
“Charlie, he really does have—”
“That’s bullshit!” A slam echoes down the hall, presumably one of the cabinet doors, as she tries to get her point across.
Does she ever let the man finish a damn sentence?
“You have such a wild imagination. Honey, this is nothing more than a coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Charlie says. “Dad, I’m serious. Why aren’t you more concerned about this?”
“If,and that’s a big if, Xavier is who you think he is…we’ll handle it when the time comes. But I don’t think you need to worry about this. Besides, even if he is some big architect or whatever you think he is, won’t it be nice to have someone who knows how to work with their hands?”
I stare down at my hands, flexing them—opening and closing them a few times, trying to will the knowledge they hold from within—before I take a deep breath and walk down the hallway.
My arrival is met with an exaggerated groan from Charlie, but Joseph smiles brightly. “G’morning, Xavier! You were out there bright and early this morning.”
“Yes, s—Joe.” I catch myself before the wordsircomes out, offering a tight smile. “Yeah, I, uh…I don’t get much sleep right now.”
“That’s okay, I’m sure it’ll get easier as you start to…get back into the swing of things.”
Remember.
As you start to remember, is what Joseph meant to say.
“Anyways,” he continues. “Can we get you anything? More coffee?”
“Please.” I sigh. “It was a bit chilly this morning.”
“Charlie here was just sayin’ we’re supposed to get snow this weekend.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” I roll my shoulders, straightening the length of my spine, and crack my neck. “Istarted the barn this morning so there would be a space to work in case it happened.”
Joseph chuckles. “You talk like you’re from around here.”
His statement lingers in the air, the three of us staring at one another, waiting for my response. Charlie, who has been invested in the crossword puzzle pulled from her father’s newspaper, lifts her gaze to the conversation.
“I, uh…I don’t think I am,” I stammer out. “I just…Well, I don’t know. I thought—”
