I scoot back on the bed, shuffling in a completely un-lady like manner and making it look like a whole lot more effort than it needed to be. He pulls me into his side like I’m a teddy bear, and sinks down until his head is nestled into the crook of my neck. He doesn’t say a word as we sit in a comfortable silence, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling window that looks out onto the hotel pool. I’m not sure if it’s thirty seconds or thirty minutes, but the sound of his soft tiny snores interrupt the silence. I smile as I rub my fingers through his messy hair, and he moans his appreciation and shifts, pushing his face further into my shoulder. Mom returns, takes one look at him and gives me a knowing look before depositing the ice bucket and retrieving her purse from the cabinet. She leaves without a word, and I thank her silently with my smile.
We stay huddled together on the bed for an hour before my mom returns and wakes us both from the best sleep I’ve had in since arriving in Arizona. I stretch and rub my eyes underneath my glasses. I’m positive that I look a mess and quickly wipe at my mouth, worrying that I’ve drooled all over myself in my sleep. Ethan looks completely perfect as usual; messy hair and hooded sleepy eyes suit him—it’s so unfair. His plain navy Henley is crumpled from sleep and hitched up slightly, exposing the taught tanned V that leads down under his jeans. I have a hard time not staring at it, even though my mom is standing in the same room.
“Okay guys, let's go find your car and then we can go for dinner. I spotted a nice looking restaurant while you two were snoozing.”
“Excellent! I’m starving,” Ethan announces and picks me up, placing me on the floor so he can move to get off the bed.
“What about you, Blair, honey? Are you hungry?” Mom asks.
I am, but not in the way she means and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want to hear that. “I could eat.”
“Great! Let's go, then.”
An hour and a complete headache later, we pull up in Ethan’s Camaro alongside the Honda Mom rented. My mom is one of those women that refuse to listen to the satellite navigation system, and just assumes that she knows better, even if it’s somewhere she’s never been before. We’ve made so many U-turns getting here it made me dizzy. The three of us walk into the little hole-in-the-wall Italian together, laughing that the car was only four miles away, yet it took us this long to collect it. I’m no athlete, but I could have definitely run to go fetch it faster.
“What are you guys ordering? I can’t make up my mind. I’ve narrowed it down to pizza or fettuccini. I don’t want to make a decision first and end up with food envy when it comes out,” I announce to the table in a whiney voice.
“You’re so much like your father, you know? He would never order first, either.”
I smile at her observation. I’ll take that; Dad was awesome. I don’t mind the comparison she’s drawn; in fact, I like being told that I’m like him.
“I’m gonna go for the meatball pizza. No chance of food envy with that, right? Since you don’t like them.”
My head snaps to the side at breakneck speed, and I gape at him wide-eyed and open mouthed. I must look so attractive! I’m holding my breath and can feel my pulse picking up tempo, thrumming against my skin.
“What?” Ethan asks, looking perplexed at my reaction to his admission. He’s obviously confused. Mom too, who regards me through furrowed brows like I’ve just grown a second head.
“How do you know that I don’t like meatballs?” I ask cautiously, trying not to let the hope that’s evolving inside me sprout wings and take flight.
“Um…you told me.”
I smile, and it’s too late; the hope is set free, fluttering through me like an autumn leaf being carried by the wind. I clench my fists to stop from clapping and resist the urge to bounce my knees in an effort to dissipate the adrenaline coursing through me.
“When did I tell you?”
“When I took you to…”
Confusion morphs into realization across his face as the penny drops. My smile is straining the muscles in my face—it’s that wide.
“Holy shit! You told me the day we first met, and I took you to Marco’s Pizzeria.”
Mom is still looking utterly perplexed at our exchange.
“He remembers, Mom!” I almost squeal. My voice has climbed a few octaves and I sound like an overly excited toddler.
“Oh, that’s fantastic,” she beams. “Do you remember anything else?”
“I don’t know.”
Ethan looks to me, his concentration clear in the depths of his crystal blue eyes.
“I remember meeting you in the library at school. You had me acting like a complete stuttering fool,” he says as he winks, and I melt.
“I remember us going out for dinner.”
My whole body is tingling as I bask in the happiness that has made its first real appearance since the accident.
The accident…it’s a sobering consideration that has an ugly apprehension sliding over me and cloaking me in dread as I formulate the question I’m about to ask. I’m under no illusions that it won’t soberly dampen everyone’s newfound excitement.
“Is that all that you can remember? Can you not recollect anything more? The crash, maybe?” I ask tentatively. His smile falters and his shoulders drop ever so slightly, but I catch the movement.
“No—at least I don’t think so.”
“Well, never mind honey. This is a start,” Mom interrupts in her best cheery ‘fake it till you make it’ voice.
“I’m sure you’ll start to regain the rest of your memory soon.”