Forgive and Forget

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay?” Tom asked, looking uncertain.

“Positive.” Joe went back into his room unable to understand why he was being so accommodating. You keep telling yourself that, Joe. He promptly told himself to shut it and pulled out a warm blanket and fluffy pillow. Walking back out into the living room, Joe set the bedding on the couch. “There you go. I’ll be back in a few minutes, after I check on the shop and send everyone home.”

“Okay.” Tom beamed. The guy really had one hell of a smile. It was hard to associate that with the evidence of violence marking the man’s skin. “And thanks again. This is really decent of you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

To think this day started like any other. This morning had been like any other morning, this afternoon like any other afternoon, and now? Now he had a tall, dark, handsome stranger in his bathroom, wearing his pajamas. Under normal circumstances, that alone would have been cause to celebrate. Except these weren’t normal circumstances, and Tom wasn’t upstairs on account of Joe taking him up on his flirting. As if a good-looking guy like Tom would even flirt with someone like him. Not that he was interested or anything, he was just—Joe didn’t get a chance to finish the thought. The moment he stepped foot into the empty café, he was ambushed.

“So who is he?” Donnie asked, trembling with anticipation.

Definitely time to cut back on the kid’s caffeine intake.

“Ah, now there’s the question we all want to know the answer to,” Joe replied, looking around the shop, happy to see everything was in tip-top shape and ready for the next day. Not that he had expected any less from his motley crew. He could always count on them to man the ship while he was away. Beside him, Elsie wrung her hands nervously.

“He didn’t tell you?” Elsie asked him.

“He didn’t know.” Joe sighed and leaned against the door.

The three exchanged glances before Bea peered at him. “What do you mean he didn’t know? Didn’t know what?”

“Anything. Poor guy can’t even remember his own name.” Joe walked over to one of the two large glass windows and pulled down the heavy canvas shade, securing the small ring over the tiny hook in the wooden frame. “Guess he got whacked a little harder than we thought.”

The two youngsters’ eyes widened, and it was like he’d walked into some Broadway production. He went to the next window to pull the shade down on that one.

Donnie looked a little too excited for his own good. “You mean… he’s got amnesia? I read about that.”

“Baloney,” Bea huffed. “Amnesia’s something you see in those old Hollywood movies. It’s not real.”

“’Course it’s real. Wouldn’t be a medical condition otherwise.” Joe smiled sweetly and pinched Bea’s cheek. “What you mean to say, my dearest, is that you think he’s full of it.”

Bea slapped his hand away, her gaze boring into him as he headed toward the back of the shop. “He’s stringing you along, honey, and you’re letting him.”

Joe waved his hand dismissively, ignoring that last statement. “Listen, don’t you fret your pretty little head. Jules will be here as soon as she can, and she’ll tell us what’s what.”

“I tell you, there’s something sinister about that boy,” Bea insisted.

“That’s why you shouldn’t watch so many soap operas. This isn’t some ‘wealthy heiress gets pregnant with the stableboy’s baby’ scandal. He’s just some poor guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Joe remembered the look on Tom’s face when he realized he couldn’t remember. How could Joe ignore the pain the man was in? “What am I supposed to do, huh? Kick him out? You should have seen his face. He looked so… lost. He’s a nice enough guy, I think. I can’t shove him back out into the gutter. Where would he go? What if something terrible happens to him?” The thought made him feel sick to his stomach. “I can’t picture him ending up sleeping on a bench or some dank alley with rats and fleas, and what if he got sick and—”

“All right already,” Bea grumbled. “Geez Louise. Now who’s been watching too many dramas? I’ll tell you one thing: I’m not going home while he’s sleeping a stone’s throw away from you. He might knife you in your sleep. Steal your shoes.” She stomped over to pick up trusty ole Silver, and Joe released a groan when she came out swinging. “I’m taking first watch.”

“You’re kidding.”

“If Bea’s staying to watch over you, so am I,” Donnie declared, chest all puffed up like a baby bird. “I’ll take second watch.”

“I’ll take third,” Elsie chirped.

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