“Are you sure it’s okay I stay here?” She worried, her hands wringing in her lap.
My hand settled over her clasped ones. “You’re going to like it here. Maggie’s great.”
“It’s hard to just…” Her voice trailed off.
“Hard to what?” I pressed.
“Hard to walk into a strange place and call it home.”
“Maybe it’s not home,” I told her. “Maybe it’s just a safe place to stay until you figure out where home is.”
Brown eyes shifted to me and softened. “Think it will be hard to figure out where home is?”
“I think you’ll find exactly where you belong.”
Her smile was big and bright, the freckles on her nose and cheeks bunching up, and my heart turned over.
“I’ll get your stuff,” I said and catapulted out of the truck. At her side, I hefted the bag over my shoulder and gathered a few of the gift bags from the party. She had the flowers in her arms already, looking so fucking adorable I shifted all the shit I was holding into one arm so I could slip the other around her waist and lift her out of the truck.
Her body slid down mine when I stood her in the driveway, but I was remiss in moving away. I just wasn’t ready yet. The autumn breeze ruffled her hair and a strand blew into her eyes. I grasped it, rolling it between my fingers.
“I don’t know why it’s like that,” she said suddenly, almost as if the words just burst out without thought.
My fingers paused and my eyes shifted over to hers. “What is?”
“My hair,” she said, ducking her face. “It’s all uneven and chopped up.”
“It doesn’t make you any less beautiful.” I promised. I did wonder about her hair, the way it was almost butchered in some places. The color was beautiful, dark blond, almost golden beneath the sun. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would hack it up that way.
“Really?” she whispered.
“Duh,” I said and rolled my eyes.
She giggled. “I don’t like it.”
“Change it then,” I said, dropping the strand and moving back a step. “You can do whatever you want, Am.”
Her eyes lit up as if her own independence wasn’t something that occurred to her. “Maybe I will.”
Catching her hand, we walked across the driveway and down the sidewalk toward the front door. The street itself was a quiet one, with sidewalks and large trees whose branches shaded the road. All the lawns were well taken care of, and many of the neighbors had plants and flowers dotting their property.
“You still have my number, right?” I asked when we stopped at the front door.
She nodded.
“Use it anytime you want, okay? Doesn’t matter what time it is.”
“I’m nervous,” she rushed out.
I dropped everything I held near the door and pulled her into my arms. “It’s going to be okay,” I spoke against her hair. I felt her nod against my chest, her arms clutched at my back. After a few moments, I pulled back. “How about I come get you tomorrow and give you a tour of the town? Show you around.”
“Can I see your store?” she asked, interested.
“First stop.” I promised.
“I’d love that.”
“I’ll come by late morning, just before lunch. I’ll take you out.” Like a date.
She nodded enthusiastically.
I smiled fast. I liked knowing when I would see her again. “You know,” I said, taking her hand, “I’m used to seeing you every single day.”
“Me, too.” Her lips curved up.
Behind us, the front door opened. Maggie poked her head out the glass storm door. “Amnesia!” she said. “Just in time. Your room is all ready.”
I nodded at Am, encouraging her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” She agreed softly.
After I put all her bags inside, I came back out, hesitating in front of her. I didn’t want to leave. I hated walking away from her.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said, smiling up at me.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”
Her breath caught a little, which was very satisfying. “Bye.”
“Go inside, Am,” I ordered quietly, reaching around her to hold open the door. “I’m not leaving ‘til you’re in the house safe.”
She went in, the glass door closing between us.
The second I pulled out of the driveway, I started looking forward to tomorrow.
“I didn’t think that boy would ever let you out of his sight!” Maggie said when Eddie drove away and I turned around. She was standing behind me on a small tiled landing. The house was a split level; from where we were standing at the front door, you could either go up or down.
I smiled. “He’s sweet.”
Maggie laughed. “Sweet is one way to put it. A pit bull is another.”
“A pit bull?” I questioned, not quite making the connection.
She nodded sagely. “He’s mighty protective over you. I pity anyone who even looks at you funny.”
I thought about the person in the hospital garden, in my hospital room, and the haunting figure who loomed over me in every dream.
“Well, how about a tour? I’m sure you want to see the place you’re going to be living.” Maggie gestured for me to follow her up the stairs.
“I really hope this isn’t an imposition,” I said, feeling shy.
“Oh, hush. I’m enjoying the company. Truly.”
Up the short flight of stairs, the house opened into a large space. A living room, kitchen, and eating space made up almost the entire floor. It was clean and uncluttered, something I realized I rather liked. The walls were painted a soft yellow, and there was a fireplace against the far wall that was white-painted brick. She had framed photos on the mantel and a few unlit candles.
On either side of the fireplace were bookcases built into the wall. They were crammed with books, all neatly lined up by size. In front of the fireplace was a large oval-shaped rug that was thick and multicolored. It looked handmade, because surely something that beautiful couldn’t be bought in a store. There were two large fabric chairs upholstered in deep-green velvet and a leather couch all facing each other with a wooden coffee table in the center.
Toward the front of the house were large windows that overlooked the street. They were draped in sheer curtains, and a large wooden piano sat in front of them.
“Do you play?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, for many years. My husband actually was the one who taught me.”
“Eddie told me he passed away. I’m very sorry.”
Maggie smiled sadly. “I miss him every day. But when it gets to be too much, I just sit down and play, and I can feel him in the room with me.”
How heartbreakingly romantic.
“Where’s Elmo?” I asked, gazing around.
She made a tsking nose. “I put him in the bedroom. I didn’t want him running around and scaring you. He’s a mischievous thing.”
I could tell just by the way her eyes lit up she loved the dog more than anything else. “I’d love to meet him,” I said.
“I’ll let him out, but be prepared!” She went past the kitchen and disappeared down a hallway that I guessed led to the bedrooms.