 
Forgetting the Past

By Brenda Kennedy

Dedicated to

Christina Badder

I will cherish our friendship, forever.

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Copyright 2016 by

Brenda Kennedy

The Forgotten Trilogy

Book One

Forgetting the Past

Books One and Two end in Cliffhangers

Prologue

Ava

"Ava, do you take Connor to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

With a shaky voice I say, "I do." Connor stands tall and confidently in front of our many friends and family. He smiles and winks at me. I smile back as I slide the wide platinum, diamond infinity wedding band onto his finger.

"Connor, do you take Ava to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

I watch as he slides the diamond infinity platinum wedding band onto my ring finger. "I do," he says clearly and without reservation. I blink through thick lashes and watch as the flawless diamonds reflect the light from the unity candle. It's stunning.

"From the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." I look up at my now husband who takes a small step towards me. "You may now kiss your bride." Connor smiles and licks his lips before he bends down to kiss me. I stand on tiptoes to return his soft kiss.

After the kiss I look out into the crowd at our friends and family. We had over one hundred guests on our wedding list and every single person came to witness Connor and me exchange our wedding vows. I am sure that most of them came because of Connor's success and prestige.

"I would like to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Connor Brantley Emerson."

Our friends, family, and colleagues clap and shout with cheers.

During the reception, we listen to the speech from his best man, Chase, and my best friend, Skylar. Chase is an attorney at the same law firm Connor works at, and we have been great friends ever since. Skylar is my best friend from high school. We are both R.N.'s at a local hospital. I'm blessed that the four of us all get along. Chase and Skylar are both single and vow to stay that way, forever. I would like nothing more than for the two of them to date each other.

"Could I have one last dance with my stunning wife?"

I take Connor's hand and stand from the white linen table. He escorts me to the dance floor where he leads me to the song "Mad" by Ne-Yo. Connor is graceful, handsome, and powerful. My father introduced us and he was thrilled when we announced our engagement two years ago. As we dance, I stare out onto the dance floor at the many couples dancing with their spouse or significant other. No children are in attendance at our wedding. Connor and I argued about this. Some of our friends and family have children, and I wanted our wedding to be open to families, not just a guest plus one. He didn't want children to be present at such an elegant gala. I thought it was odd that he would call our wedding a gala. He said that kids would be disruptive and his father agreed, so we didn't invite children. We didn't even have a flower girl or a ring bearer in the wedding party.

"You look stunning this evening."

"Thank you."

With one arm around my waist, he holds my hand in his and says, "I was thinking that after this song, I could carry my bride to our room and help her out of her wedding dress."

"I think your bride would like that."

"Good, I was hoping she would."

After the dance I walk in the direction of Chase and Skylar, who are still sitting at the table. I just want to say my goodbyes while they're sitting there together. The music is getting louder and the reception is kicking off in full gear. Several people stand and rush to the dance floor when a fast-paced song comes on. Someone grabs my arm and it's painful. Spinning around, I'm surprised to see Connor standing there.

"Where are you going?"

He's never touched me like this before. I jerk my arm away and say, "Ouch! You're hurting me."

"I'm sorry." He tries to smile, but there's something in his eyes that I've never seen before. "Where are you going?" he asks in a much softer tone.

"I'm going to say goodbye to Skylar and Chase." I turn to leave and he grabs me again.

He leans down and whispers into my ear. "I don't want you to talk to him again. Let's go."

Wait? What? Chase is his best man; he's our friend and Connor's business associate. He can't be serious. I smile and start to walk away reaching for his hand to come with me. "Come on, Connor. Let's say our goodbyes first, and then we'll leave. We can't be rude."

"Ava?" he says sternly. "Did you hear me? I said, let's go!" 
Chapter One: Two Years Later

Claire Richards (Ava's mother)

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Richards, but there was a horrible accident. Your son-in-law, Connor, is dead, and your daughter, Ava, is currently in a coma."

I hold onto my husband's arm for support. This can't be happening. Slowly, I sit in a chair in the hospital emergency room. I just spoke to my daughter earlier today. It was her and Connor's second wedding anniversary, and she was shopping for a dress to wear to dinner. How can this be? Tears stream down my face, blurring my vision. I can't lose Ava. She is my only daughter, my only child. "Is she going to die?"

"I'm sorry, but it's too early to tell. We're doing everything we can for her."

"What kind of accident was it?" my husband, Marshall, asks. I assumed it was a car accident. I never would have asked.

"The report we got when the call came in said it was a one-car accident over on Oak Marsh Road just before eight p.m. A passerby spotted the overturned vehicle and called 911."

The doctor speaks clearly and calmly, but his eyes reveal that he is tired and weary.

Marshall remains standing and says, "That's a straightaway. I don't recall any sharp turns or dangerous intersections on that road."

"That's right. I believe the officers are still out there investigating the cause of the accident."

"When can we see our daughter? I need to be with her," I say.

"You can see her now. She's in I.C.U. in a coma." The doctor stops talking before he adds, "You'll need to be prepared for her injuries. She has a broken left wrist, some brain and facial swelling, and some lacerations to her face, and to her body. You may not recognize her. She's in pretty bad shape." He looks from Marshall and then back to me. We won't know how bad it is for a few days. The swelling needs to come down and she still needs to wake from her coma. The next few days will be critical. She's also on a ventilator to help her body rest."

I can't speak and I can't see through the tears. I stand on shaky legs holding onto Marshall for support. "I need to see her."

"Of course, follow me."

Marshall holds onto me and guides me down the cold sterile halls of the I.C.U. The walls are white, uninviting, and unwelcoming. The smell of antiseptic fills the air and the constant beeping from life-saving medical machines frightens me. As I walk with the support of Marshall, I know I'm supposed to hope for the best but expect the worst, but I can't live by that rule. I can't expect anything but the best for my daughter. I can't give up hope, although if I did, I may be better prepared for her death. What kind of mother would I be if I gave up hope? Marshall says nothing as we follow the doctor in the blue hospital scrubs and a white lab coat down the long cold sterile hallway. Connor is gone. I can't do anything about that, but there's still hope for my daughter, and I will never let go of that hope, no matter how small it is. I didn't see Connor's parents. Is Connor here? Is he in the morgue? Are his parents at the morgue identifying his body? God, I feel sick.

The doctor stops outside of the last room on the right. He doesn't say anything. I know he's giving us time to collect our thoughts before we go in, to better prepare ourselves for the condition Ava is in. I don't want to go in there. I want this all to be a dream. If I see Ava in this condition, it'll make it all real. There'll be no turning back, no going back to before this dreadful night.

"Claire, you go on in. I want to speak to the doctor alone."

I look at Marshall and then the doctor. I don't want to go in there by myself. I don't want to see Ava for the first time alone. This is the way Marshall is. It's his way and there's no other way. I look at the doctor with pleading eyes. Maybe he'll say something for me. Maybe he'll see the fear in my eyes. "We can talk later...," the doctor begins to say. Thank you.

"No, we need to talk now," Marshall interrupts. "Claire, you can wait for me here, or I'll meet you inside. I need to speak with Doctor Adams in private."

"I'll meet you inside." I turn and walk into the cold, sterile I.C.U. room that houses my sweet daughter. Staring at the floor, I walk in the direction of the pulsating sound. Slowly, I raise my eyes. The metal bed has wheels and the side bed rails are up. I don't want to look any further. Closing my eyes, I take the last steps I need to be by my daughter's side. When I bump slightly into the bed, I force my eyes open. I don't look to the head of the bed, my eyes are focused on the foot of the bed. White sheets and a white blanket cover Ava. Moving my eyes slowly upward, I see Ava's hand. Her wedding ring is in place and there is an I.V. in her right hand and a temporary cast on her left arm. Dried blood is embedded under her manicured fingernails and around her cuticles. Her hand is lifeless and pale. I force my eyes to move upward and take a deep breath. There's no preparing myself for what I see next. Ava's face is black and blue with bruises. Her face is swollen beyond recognition. She has lacerations and scrapes on her face, neck, and arms. I sit on the green cloth-covered chair beside the bed. This is my daughter. She's alive, but she doesn't show any signs of life. Will she die like Connor? Will this be her last day to live? If she lives, will she be brain dead and in a coma, or will she come out of it? I can't lose my daughter. I can't say goodbye to her. I know it's selfish, but I want her anyway I can have her. She's my reason for living. She's my reason for getting out of bed everyday. I love her. I love her more than life.

Over the next week, Marshall and I attend Connor's funeral while Ava's best friend, Skylar, stays at the hospital with Ava. I want to stay at the hospital with our daughter, but Marshall insists we attend the funeral. Maybe he's right. Connor was our son-in-law.

I don't remember the funeral and I don't remember the past week, either. I do remember the horrifying cries coming from Connor's mother and his closest friends and family. They resembled my own silent agonizing cries. If my fears and pain had a sound, I'm sure they would sound like that. I wait impatiently for Marshall to say his goodbyes. I want to get back to the hospital with Ava and Skylar. I know there's no change in Ava's medical condition, or Skylar would have called me. I'm as polite as it is possible for me to be as I wait for Marshall.

"How is Ava?" Brett asks.

Brett is Connor's dad. He hasn't been to the hospital yet to see Ava. He and his wife, Nichole, have been dealing with their own problems.

Marshall lowers his voice to a near whisper, "There's no change in her condition."

"Please, let us know if there's anything we can do. We plan to visit soon."

I give a sad smile as I stand beside my husband. He's dressed in a black suit, black tie, and crisp white shirt. I'm wearing a black dress, black stockings, with black heels. No other color seemed to be appropriate for today. Connor's dead and Ava is still in a coma. I may wear black every day for the rest of my life if she doesn't come out of it.

"Thank you, but there isn't anything anyone can do."

My husband looks down at me and asks, "Are you ready, Claire?"

Yes, I'm ready. I've been ready. "I'm ready whenever you are," I say instead.

Skylar Sperry

"Ava, please wake up. We have so much we haven't done, there's still so much for us to do together." I sit beside her lifeless body. The machine breathes for her and the I.V. pumps some much-needed fluids into her body. "Talk to her, we believe she can hear you," the nurse said. She isn't brain dead, so maybe she can hear me. If she could hear me, wouldn't she move or talk back to me? Wouldn't she give me some sign that she's still here with me? "Please, Ava, you gotta wake up," I plead. "I need you."

When I hear tapping sounds coming from the hallway, I sit quietly. If it's Claire, I don't want to give her false hope that Ava and I are actually having a conversation together. Leaning up, I take Ava's cold hand into mine. "I miss you," I whisper.

"How is she?" Claire asks at the doorway before she even makes her way into the room.

"There's no change." That could be a good thing, but I know Claire was asking did she respond to my voice. I wish. I want her to wake up. Just a twitch of a finger would be something.

"Well, she'll wake up when she's ready. Ava always did things on her own time."

She's right about that. Ava, at one time, did things only when Ava was ready and not a minute sooner. But since Ava's been married to Connor, she has done things on Connor's time.

I stand from the chair and watch as Claire removes her coat and carefully folds it over the metal chair nearest the door.

"Marshall's not with you?"

She looks up with a sad smile. "No, he went to the office. He'll be back in time for dinner." Claire is a petite woman with dark hair like Ava's. It's pulled up into a tight bun. She's the epitome of a mother in mourning, even if the funeral she attended wasn't for her daughter. Her eyes are red and swollen, and she is thinner than she usually is. Her appearance mirrors my own. I was planning on leaving as soon as they returned from the funeral, but since Marshall isn't here with her, I'd like to stay. I love Ava's mother.

"Would you mind if I stayed here with you until he returns?"

We make eye contact and she says, "Of course I don't mind. You're Ava's best friend. She would want you to be here with her."

I smile. Ava would expect me to be here with her, even if it was an inconvenience for me. She hates hospitals and she wouldn't want to be here alone, even for one night. "Thank you." I watch as she applies Chapstick to Ava's lips and she wipes Ava's face and hands off with a warm cloth. I did the exact same thing just an hour ago. I have no idea if Ava can feel it or tell a difference, but I would like to think that she can. Ava would expect and want to be comfortable and clean, even if she is in a coma.

While I sit quietly, Claire reads to Ava. It's not your typical romance book, but a book about how to open and operate a bed and breakfast: Running a Bed and Breakfast for Dummies by Mary White. I listen as she reads the instructions and the directions of things you need to do. I don't question her taste in books. I know this has been a dream of Ava's for years.

I think back to when I was in high school with Ava, when we were in nursing school together, and then her wedding to Connor. Things changed between us after she got married. Not just between us, but she changed. She was no longer available to do things with me, and Chase said he very seldom saw her. Whenever I did see her, she was in good spirits. I always suspected Connor was the reason why we never hung out, but she always said her schedule was full or she was just too busy. Because he was this high-profile attorney, she didn't need to work outside of the home, so she quit her nursing job. I no longer got to see her at work. I've missed her over the last two years since her wedding.

"Do you have plans for when Ava wakes up?" Claire asks.

I hope Ava wakes up. I think for a minute and realize she'll be in mourning when she learns of Connor's death. She's young and beautiful, and now she's a widow. That won't be easy for her to digest. I choose my words carefully before speaking. "As soon as she's up to it, we should all get a mani and pedi, then we should go out and have lunch at the cute little French bistro she likes over on Palms Way." It's a nice thought and I smile a genuine smile. Ava would like that. She loves to get her nails done. "What about you? You must have a long list of things you'll want to do with her," I say.

Claire also smiles. "I do. She'll need to get her hair done." Her smile fades. "She'll also need to pick out a tombstone for Connor." I watch as her lip begins to quiver. She looks broken. I've never seen Claire when she wasn't put together. "She's so young and beautiful. I wonder how she'll deal with this. Connor was her everything."

I've also wondered this. My main thought is whether Ava will wake up from her coma, and if she does, will she have brain damage? How much will she remember? Will she be the same person after losing her husband? The Internet is wonderful to have, but I believe it's possible to know too much and still not have all of the details. I once Googled symptoms I was having on Ask Web M.D. According to the website, it said that lung cancer is a possibility and to consult a doctor Thankfully, it was only bronchitis. I try to stay away from searching anything to do with medical diagnosis, symptoms, procedures, and prognoses; however, I did Google comas and I wish I hadn't. I look at Claire as she sits and holds Ava's hand. "Luckily, she has you to help her get her through this."

She looks up at me with tears streaming down her flawless face. My heart grieves for her. She's lost a son-in-law, and her only child is in a coma. What will happen to her if Ava doesn't pull through, or if Ava remains in a coma? How long can a person live in a coma? I wish I knew.

"Thank you. Ava will need all of us to help her get through this."

I sit with Ava and talk quietly to her while Claire leaves to get some water from the cafeteria. I pray, and watch, and wait for movement. A blink, a twitch of a finger, any form of movement. Some sign that life exists within Ava's seemingly lifeless body. I pray that once her body heals, her soul will return intact. Maybe this is God's way of giving her body and mind a rest. Maybe she'll wake up and be completely healed from all of this.

I leave before Ava's dad, Marshall, gets here. I pretend I have someplace to be, but in fact, I don't want to be here when he comes. He and Claire will need time alone. I kiss Ava and kiss and hug Claire before leaving. "Please call me if there's a change."

"I will. Maybe it'll happen this evening."

Once I'm in the car, I call Chase. Chase, Ava, and I have been friends for years. He was Connor's colleague at the law firm, and he was also Ava and Connor's best man at their wedding.

"Hey, Skylar."

"Hey, just leaving the hospital. Do you want to meet me for dinner?"

"How's Ava?" he asks.

"I wish I had something to report. There's still no change."

"That's too bad, maybe tomorrow." I hear the beeping sound of his key remote to his car. "Where do you want to have dinner?"

"Italian or Greek?" I ask.

"Oh, tough choice." I hear his car door close. "Italian."

"Great. Shall I meet you at Guiseppe's in half an hour?"

"I'm on the other side of town. I should be there then."

I arrive at the restaurant before Chase and walk into the Italian restaurant where empty Italian wine bottles are used as candle holders. The white tapered candles are burning in the center of the red and white checkered linen-covered round table. I get seated and order a bottle of Chianti as I wait for Chase. Watching the wax melt and drip onto the empty wine bottle candleholder, I think back to Ava and my visit with her. My heart hurts at the unknown. Not knowing what will become of her. Not knowing how this will end for her, for all of us. I'm sad that Connor is dead, but Ava is my very best friend. I'll be lost without her.

"Been waiting long?" I look up at Chase as he is loosening his black and white tie before sitting down.

"No, I just got here myself. Still nursing my first glass." I hold up the half-filled wine glass.

He unbuttons his black suit jacket. "I was hoping to get here sooner, but traffic was backed up today."

I watch as he leans up and pours himself a glass of the red wine. His dark hair is longer than it usually is and his five o'clock shadow is thicker than normal. I don't ask about or mention it. I know he's also having a hard time with Connor's death and Ava's condition.

He leans up further and refills my wine glass. His dark eyes are sad. He looks exhausted. "So, our girl is still resting, is she?"

I smile whenever he refers to Ava as "our girl." I also like when he refers to her as resting. It sounds so much better than anything else I've heard people say. "She is. Her mom was reading to her today."

He takes a drink of his red wine before picking up the menu. "Oh, let me guess. Romance?"

He smiles and it makes me smile, too. "No. It was actually a book about owning and operating a bed and breakfast."

"Really? Connor never said anything about Ava having a passion for that." He pauses and thinks. "Come to think of it, he never mentioned her having a passion about anything."

We order garlic knots and chicken parmigiana for dinner, and a side salad with house dressing. I used to find it odd that we would always order the same foods while out, but not anymore. I consider Chase to have great taste in food, since we like the same things.

"She used to talk about opening a bed and breakfast before she got married." I think for a minute, and say, "I didn't know if those dreams still existed. I haven't seen much of her in the last two years."

"Since their marriage, she did keep more to herself."

I knew her like we were sisters before her wedding. "Do you think it was her choice that she was so reserved after her marriage?"

He looks up over his wine glass. "I don't know. I would like to hope that it was her choice." He takes a sip of his wine and sets his glass on the checkered tablecloth. "Connor was my friend and colleague, but I didn't see either of them much after their wedding. I was closer to you and Ava. I worked with Connor but saw him only in passing." Connor didn't have many close friends, and I often wondered if Chase wasn't his best man at his wedding because he and Ava were such good friends.

During dinner he asks, "So, are you still dating... Tom? Jim? Tim? What was his name again?"

I laugh, "Bob, and the answer's no. It's been over with for a few weeks now."

"Bob, that's it. I knew it was a three-letter name. So, what happened with you and Bob?"

"Bob turned out to be a jerk."

"How so?"

"I think it was the fourth time of us eating Dutch that actually got to me."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. It was actually kind of nice for a change."

He looks confused. "So, what's the problem?"

"Bob always had the correct change."

"Skylar, you're losing me."

"Chase, he only had the correct amount of change. I estimated that he owed me about $65.00 in gratuity in those four dates alone."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, he's a jerk and he's a tight ass."

He laughs. "I have to ask. How did you break up with this one?"

I laugh, too. This breakup will go down in history. Ava and I always took pride in how we broke up with jerks in high school and in college. Once in college, she dated a guy that wouldn't take no for an answer. She tried to break up with him and he kept coming back for more. So she took a new pregnancy test from the box and drew two red lines on it with a red Sharpie to show a positive pregnancy reading and threw it away in his dorm room. He never called her or talked to her again. The kicker is, she never had sex with him. He thought she was pregnant with another guy's baby.

"So, are you going to tell me?"

"Sure, I'll tell you. I bought a book at the local bookstore titled How to be a Good Wife: What Every Bride Must Know to be a Good Wife and Have a Great Marriage by John McQuilkin." I laugh before I continue. "I left it on his coffee table on a night he was having friends over to watch the Ohio State/ Michigan game."

"No you didn't." I nod my head and I know Ava would be proud of me. We used to thrive on who came up with the best way to break-up with a loser. "It's a wonder you still get dates in this city."

"I know, right. Eventually, I'll need to move to a bigger city where no one knows me."

"That might need to be sooner rather than later."

"Honestly, dating is the last thing on my mind. Yesterday, a 300-pound man tried to pick me up at a coffee shop. I bought him a couple of foot-long hot dogs, and then I left. The 300-pound man had to decide whether to stay and eat or leave and follow me. He stayed and ate."

We finish dinner and talk about his job, my job, and Ava. He tells me about Connor's funeral. He tells me that his workload has increased now that Connor's clients are being distributed among the other attorneys. He also tells me that if he never attends the funeral of another friend, it'll be too soon. Due to Connor's injuries, he had a closed casket. Chase thought it would be easier to deal with, but he was wrong. "Just because you can't see the person doesn't make it any easier to deal with, or any less real. A death is a death, and a death is permanent; it is forever."

"Ava has to wake up. I don't want to...." I can't say it. I can't finish my sentence.

Chase scoots his chair over and holds my hand. "Don't think like that. As long as there is a breath in her, she still has a fighting chance. We have to hold on to hope, no matter how small."

Chase Murphy

I pay the bill and wait with Skylar at the valet stand. "I'll call you in a day or two, and you call me if there's a change in Ava."

"Okay, sounds good. I work tomorrow, but I'll be up to see her afterward."

"I'll be there tomorrow, as well. Be careful driving home." She leans in and hugs me. I know it's just a comforting hug. "It'll be all right, and call me if you need me."

"I will, and thanks for dinner."

I watch as she pulls off onto the main road. I don't drive home; I drive to Shands Lake Shore Hospital instead. Ava is my friend and I want to see her. It's not easy to watch her while she lies unresponsive in a coma. I tell Skylar to think positively, but it's easier to tell someone to do that than to do it yourself. I'd rather have a root canal without anesthesia than sit in the I.C.U. room and watch Ava. I wonder whether she can really hear us. The nurses and doctors claim she can, maybe they're right. "The hearing is the last thing to go," they say. How can they know that for certain? Maybe it's just to give the living some hope.

I walk into Ava's room and I'm surprised to find no visitors in the room with her. It's late on a Thursday night, but I thought someone should be here. I bend over and kiss Ava's cold cheek. The bruising and swelling is subsiding and she's looking more like herself. I readjust the covers and sit in the chair beside the bed.

A nurse walks in a few minutes after me. "Hi, I didn't see you come in."

Standing from the chair, I say, "I just got here."

"Did you sign in?"

"Sign in?"

"Mr. Richards is requesting that all visitors sign in." She nods to the clipboard by the door.

"No, I'll do that now." When I turn to sign in, she attends to Ava. I notice I'm the first name on the sheet. "Any change in Ava today?"

"She blinked a few times when her father was here."

"Oh." I begin to feel hopeful. "Does that mean she's waking up?" I scribble my name on the clipboard and walk back over to the bed.

"It could just be reflexes." She feeds Ava through her feeding tube. "The doctor's going to remove the ventilator tomorrow. Since the swelling's down, she'll be able to breathe on her own."

I hold onto the bed rail. "This is great news." Why didn't someone call Skylar and me and tell us?

"It's still too early to tell if she's waking up from this." She looks at me with sympathetic eyes. Maybe that's why no one called us. They didn't want us to get our hopes up. "We've had patients wake up from a seven-year coma, and then we've had patients open their eyes, look around, and still be in a comatose state." I nod in understanding and take a seat in the chair. "It's nice to be hopeful, but you have to be realistic, too."

I watch the nurse as she applies Vaseline to Ava's lips and washes her hands and face with a warm washcloth. She tries to smooth Ava's long matted hair and tucks it behind her ear.

"She has beautiful hair," I say, sadly. The nurse turns to leave and I reluctantly ask, "Did she have visitors this evening?"

"She did. Her parents just recently left. They'll be back in the morning."

"Thank you." I hold Ava's hand and pray for her to wake up. Then I open a book that's on the metal hospital bedside table and read from the last bookmarked page. It lists great locations for a bed and breakfast and also suggests great menu choices and recipes to offer your guests. Sadly, we're not in one of the areas listed to have a successful bed and breakfast. When no one comes to stay the night with Ava, I dim the lights, pull the chair as close as I can to her hospital bed, and rest my head against her torso. While holding her hand, I try to sleep. What if she wakes up? I don't want to leave her here alone. I want someone to be here with her.

In the morning I kiss Ava and leave just before 6:00; I need to be in court at 9:00.

Ava

I stare into the bright light. The doctor says, "Don't blink," I don't. "Look up." I do. "Look down." I do that, too. "How do you feel?"

My head hurts. My hand hurts. My mouth's dry. I lick my lips and they taste of Vaseline. I wipe my mouth off with the white hospital blanket. I move slowly because I hurt. "I hurt," I croak. I try to swallow, but there's nothing in my mouth to swallow. "Ava, do you know where you are?"

Ava? Who's Ava? I repeat the name over in my head, and it doesn't sound familiar. I turn my head slightly, but I don't recognize anyone in the room. A woman looks scared. She tries to smile, but it doesn't fool me. She's scared to death. The man with her looks stern. He doesn't try to smile. He watches me with something in his eyes. I don't know what. Turning my head, I want to say something, but I'm tired, oh so tired. Soon, my eyes close and sleep claims me. I hear muffled sounds, maybe someone talking, I can't be sure. I drift off to a heavier sleep than the one I was in before.

I'm exhausted. I don't dream or think. I don't wake up or move. The room is silent. Is this death? Is this what death is like? Am I dead?

When I do wake up, it's to bright lights, and people talking. I also wake to total darkness. Even when my eyes are open, I'm still in a darkness — a fog. I know no one, and I'm unable to speak or carry on a conversation. I can't answer simple questions because I have no answers. I drift back into my fog. A deep and heavy sleep where it's only darkness and me.

When I'm awake, I pray for sleep. I want to be in the deep unconscious state, where no one sees me or talks to me. Where no one asks me questions that I can't answer. When I'm awake, they want me to talk. I want something to drink, but I don't get it. I see pictures around me of people; I have no idea who they are except I recognize a man and a woman in some of the pictures because they are sometimes in the hospital room with me. She always looks frightened and he never says anything. I'm staying awake more and more as the days go on. No one speaks to me about anything important. The weather, what I had to eat today, whether or not I exercised or walked. Soon I learn the man and woman are Claire and Marshall, so when I talk to them, I call them that. I speak to the doctor, who seems to be my only friend. He just tells me I was in an accident and my memory may come back slowly or it may come back all at once. I can't recall anything. I try to scan my brain for something, some kind of memory to spark, but nothing. Where are my friends? Shouldn't my friends be here with me? Surely, I have someone else out there who cares for me.

It's been weeks, maybe months, since I've drifted off into a deep sleep that I long for. The sleep where it's just the blankness and me. Since I've woken up to this new reality, I've been moved from the hospital to a rehabilitation center. I cried when I thought I was never going to see my doctor again. I like him and trust him. I was happy, thrilled even to learn he'll continue to see me. "You can't get rid of me that quick," he said. Claire and Marshall are strangers to me. They don't tell me anything. Whenever I ask a question, they tell me to ask my doctor. When I ask my doctor, he tells me my memory will return in its own time. I want to know things now. I want answers now. Why won't they tell me anything?

Skylar Sperry

"Have you seen or heard anything from Ava?"

Chase rubs his bloodshot eyes. "No, but I drove by her house and there were lights on."

"She's home?"

"I didn't say that." He looks outside at the rain and says, "Maybe her mom or dad was there. Maybe the housekeeper was there."

"Maybe she was there." When I went to see Ava, there was a sign-in sheet posted at the doorway to her room. I thought it was so they could keep track of who was coming and going. About a week later, I was on the forbidden-to-enter-Ava's-room list. Only two names were on the list: Chase's and mine. I tried to call Claire, but her number had been changed. "We have to go there and see if Ava's home," I demand.

"And what makes you think they'll let you in to see her? It's been six months since her accident and almost five months since her father banned us from seeing her at the hospital."

"I know, I don't need to be reminded. But if she's home, I want to see her." I walk into the bedroom and remove the shoebox from the top shelf. Walking to the door I say, "You coming with me?"

"Do I have a choice? When they arrest you, you'll need an attorney."

We pull up at the McMansion and wait and watch. I have no idea what we're waiting on. I'm afraid to go up to the door and knock. I want to call Ava, but certainly she would have called me when she woke up from her coma. She didn't call me or Chase. Maybe she doesn't want to see us.

"Well, now what?"

"Go knock."

He looks at the large house with only a few lights on downstairs. "Come on, we'll both go." I grab the shoebox and we walk slowly to the front door.

"What's in the shoebox?" he asks.

"Some mementos. I thought we could reminisce about happier times."

"Good idea. She'll like that."

"I hope so. I don't have a good feeling about this."

He rings the doorbell and says, "It'll be fine." When no one answers, he rings the doorbell again.

I knock on the door and call, "Ava?"

Finally, someone comes to the door. I'm excited and happy when I see Ava standing there. The door is only partly open. She's standing behind it in a way to shield her.

"Oh, my God, I've missed you." She looks confused. "How are you?" I ask.

"I think you may have the wrong house." She begins to close the door.

"Ava? It's us. Chase and Skylar." Chase speaks slowly and calmly. "We just came by to see how you are."

We both watch as she peeks from around the door. "Do I know you?"

Amnesia? Oh, shit. I've read about this. It can be common in coma patients. You have to take things slowly with them. "We went to high school and college together. My name's Skylar, and I was your maid of honor at your wedding, and Chase was Connor's best man."

She thinks for a moment. "Then you know that my husband passed away six months ago."

"We do and we're very sorry. We visited you in the hospital while you were in a coma." I speak softly and calmly. What is too much information? What should I say and what shouldn't I say?

"If we were such good friends, I can't help but wonder why you didn't visit me in the hospital or in the rehabilitation center? I mean, if we're as good as friends as you say, wouldn't you have been there for me?"

She doesn't believe me. "Someone put us on the forbidden-to-visit-you list. We thought it was your dad. Maybe it was his way of trying to protect you." I watch her and she still doesn't believe me. I need to say something she remembers. "I was at the hospital when your mom would read to you from a book about opening a bed and breakfast."

She smiles slightly. "That book was in my hospital room." She looks from Chase to me. "I'm sorry. I don't remember either of you."

She backs away and begins to close the door.

"Ava?"

The door stops and she peeks around it. "Yes?"

"Here." I hand her the shoebox of every fun thing we ever did together. Well, not every fun thing we ever did, but some of the fun things we did. "Look through this; maybe something in here will jog your memory." She reluctantly takes it. "Do you still have your cell phone?"

"Yes, I still have it."

"Call me when you want to talk. You have me listed as Sky."

"Thank you, have a good night."

I cry all the way home. Ava has no recollection of who we are. Nothing. She looked like Ava, but she didn't act like Ava. She was more formal, more refined. She was more like her husband than herself and her mother. I never liked him. There was just something about him. Chase comes in and stays with me. We binge eat on pizza, popcorn, and ice cream. Chase tries to comfort me as he tries to comfort himself. He lost Connor, and it looks like we lost Ava, too. Although she didn't die in the accident, a part of her died with her memory. We watch movies until we pass out in front of the television together.

Over the next few days, I keep my phone charged and near me at all times. I want to answer it when Ava calls me. Every day that passes, I lose hope. On day five, I give up on ever hearing from her again.

Ava

I close the door and lock both locks before setting the shoebox on the dining room table. Chase and Skylar? Skylar and Chase? I repeat the names over and over in my head and out loud to no one but myself, hoping, praying it'll stir a memory. Nothing. I walk around the too-large house and I feel out of place. I don't belong here. This can't be my home. If it were my house, wouldn't I feel a connection to it? Wouldn't I feel like I belong here? I call Claire before 9:00 p.m. like she asked me to. She wants me to call her Mom, and I do in front of her, but when I refer to the strange woman in my mind or when she isn't present, I call her Claire. She may be my mother, but she is a complete stranger to me, at least for now. I can't remember my previous life prior to the accident. I've been out of the rehabilitation facility for six weeks, and the first few weeks I stayed with her and Marshall. Neither of them would allow me to stay at the home I shared with my husband, Connor, who is also a complete stranger. After two weeks, I insisted I was well enough to stay in my own home, even if I was alone. I told them it may jog my memory being surrounded by familiar items. It wasn't a lie; I am hoping my memory comes back.

I call Claire and she tells me about the neighbors who asked about me like I'm supposed to remember who they are. I don't. She also tells me about the ladies in her book club, and I just smile into the phone. Nothing she mentions stirs a memory. As hard as I try, nothing comes to the forefront of my head to trigger any kind of a memory.

"How was your day?" she finally asks.

"Fine. I did laundry." I don't tell her about Chase or Skylar coming over earlier this week. I'm not sure why. If Marshall did put them on the forbidden-to-visit list, it means he doesn't want them around me. They seem nice enough. Maybe he knows something I don't know. Well, take that back, he knows everything that I don't, since I can't remember anything. Claire and Marshall wouldn't be happy with me answering the door to complete strangers. I wasn't going to answer it, until I heard someone call out my name. It's awkward talking to Claire on the phone. I know she wants me to remember her, and I wish I could. But I don't.

"Your father and I will be over tomorrow. He wants to take his daughter out to lunch." I wish she wouldn't refer to him as my father.

"That sounds nice." And it does. I hate to cook. "I need to go to the grocery store and get a few groceries."

"Okay, make out a list and we'll see you tomorrow about noonish."

Noonish? Make a list? Did the old me need a list? Am I a list person? "Okay, I'll be ready. I'll see you tomorrow." I quickly hang up before she tells me she loves me. I don't know her and I don't feel love for her. Whenever she tells me she loves me, which is every time I see her, I feel obligated to say it back. Those words are sacred and shouldn't be said unless you mean them.

I walk around the house and the shoebox that's still on the dining room table seems out of place. I'm not ready to go through it. If my home that I shared with my husband doesn't stir any memories, I'm sure a shoebox full of trinkets won't do anything. This house feels more like a museum than a home someone lives in. It doesn't feel homey at all. I place the shoebox in the hall closet and walk around the house hoping for something to come to me, anything. A few pictures are on the wall, the desk, and the entryway table; all of them are of Connor and me. We look happy. He's always dressed in a suit, and I wonder if he ever wore anything else.

I force myself to go upstairs and into the master bedroom. Since my return home, I've been sleeping downstairs in the guestroom. Well, this house has many bedrooms, so I've been sleeping in one of the many guestrooms. Odd, though, they don't seem to be used for guests, but for other purposes. For example, one room seems to be used mostly for wrapping presents. Another seems to be used only for exercise, and another is used for storage.

The laundry room looks like a closet, so I've been wearing clothes that I get from there. Connor's closet is immaculate, and it's full of suits, dress pants, khakis, and dress shirts. Everything is color coordinated and categorized by color and short or long sleeves. Did I arrange this closet? Am I meticulous? I look inside the shoeboxes in his closet and find dress shoes and more dress shoes. How many pairs of dress shoes can one man have? Pulling out the drawers of the built-ins, I find fifty or more ties, and lots of T-shirts, gym shorts, and sweatpants. In another drawer, I find black dress socks and white boxer-briefs. No other color, just white. I don't remember anything, but I decide Connor worked a lot and worked out in his spare time. I don't find any blue jeans in his closet at all. Did he never just wear a pair of jeans on the weekends?

My closet is also immaculate. I have dresses, skirts, blouses, and sweaters. In the built-ins, I find lacy bras and panties in every color. Thongs, boy-cut shorts, bikinis, every style you can think of. In the shoeboxes are also dress shoes of every color and style. Do I wear these? They don't seem like my style. I search for jeans, shorts, and T-shirts, but there aren't any. I search for loungewear, yoga pants, and gym shorts, but there aren't any. No tennis shoes, nothing.

After I make sure the lids are back on the shoeboxes, I close the closet doors. It feels like the right thing to do. To have something out of place in this house feels wrong. Was I a Stepford wife? Was I always like this? Do I always put things away when I'm done with them? I guess so, because there isn't one thing out of place in the whole house. Did I ever wear jeans or anything comfortable? Do I like wearing dresses everyday? Chase and Skylar had on jeans. If I was friends with them, wouldn't I also wear jeans, at least sometimes?

I walk through all of the rooms in the upstairs of the house. We never had children and this house has five bedrooms. It makes me think that we planned on having a big family, but the rooms are all furnished with queen or king beds. This house also doesn't seem like a kid-friendly home. Metal and glass tables, sharp edges, glass tabletops. I've looked at the few photo albums we have, and the pictures are mostly of Connor and me. No children are in any of the pictures, and only a few pictures are with my parents or his parents. Even in our wedding photos, there are only a few pictures with our guests. Did we not have any friends? Chase and Skylar said they were in our wedding. Did I overlook them in the pictures? I don't recall seeing a wedding party photo.

Over the next few days, I buy groceries and stock up on the things I like. I shop for clothes with Claire and buy all of the things I want to wear. She doesn't say anything about my choices, and she helps me to shop. I also call my doctor, the only friend I have in this world. He was there when I woke up, and I feel like he's the only person I can turn to. When I was released from the rehabilitation facility, he gave me his personal cell number in case I needed anything. Well, now I feel like I need something.

"Dr. Adams speaking."

"Hi, Dr. Adams. It's Ava Emerson."

"Ava, is everything all right?"

"I have a problem."

"Are you remembering something?"

"No, that's my problem. I don't remember anything. I don't fit in here and I don't feel comfortable." I think about what I want to say so it doesn't sound like I'm rambling. "I feel like I'm living in someone else's home. I can't go outside because people stop me. They call me by name and ask how I am. I have no idea who these people are."

"Do you just smile politely, say you are fine, and walk away?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Ava, has your mother told you about a lifelong friend, or a childhood friend who might be able to help you remember anything?"

I think about Chase and Skylar and the shoebox of "fun things," as she called it. "No, Claire hasn't said anything. I haven't asked her."

"I would consider talking to her. She knows you the best and remember what I said...."

"Yeah, I know. 'Don't rush it.'" We both laugh.

"That's right. Your memory will return when you're ready, and not when you think you're ready."

He's no help. "Okay, thank you." For nothing.

"I'll call in a few days to see how you're doing, and you call me if something changes."

"Okay, but I'll see you next week for an appointment. Thanks again."

"Anytime."

When hours turn into days, I decide to go through the shoebox of "fun things" that Skylar brought over. I have nothing to lose by looking through it. I didn't go through it earlier because I feared what I would find or see. I didn't want to see pictures of me happy and in love if I couldn't remember any of it. My memories are only what people tell me they are. I can't recall anything.

First I search the house again for clues of the person I once was — my likes and dislikes, friends, favorite foods — but nothing in this house tells me anything about myself. Nothing rings a bell or triggers an alarm. I slip into a newly bought "Pink" brand sweatshirt and leggings I got from Victoria's Secret before opening the shoebox. This might be a long night. Inside the box is a romance book with a cowboy on it. The pages are worn and yellowing. I smell the pages; I'm not sure why I do that, but I do and fan them across my face. The title doesn't trigger a memory. Just Shoot Me by Becky McGraw. Next, I remove two movie ticket stubs from the movie Titanic and two from the movie How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. There's also a candy wrapper from a Snickers candy bar, a champagne cork, several photo shots of us taken in a photo booth from the fair or at the mall, and a notebook. I open up the black notebook and begin searching through it. On the inside of the notebook is written "101 ways to break-up with a guy." It's not a book title but written in a girl's handwriting. Not my own, maybe Skylar's. I search the pages and start to read what's written in the notebook. It lists funny ways to break up with a guy. These are non-traditional and far-from-ethical ways to dump a man. As I read them, I have to wipe the tears from my eyes because it's just that funny. One thing listed, was to take his phone when he was out of the room and start listing your family's numbers into his contacts under in-laws. Another breakup was to call his parents "Mom" and "Dad" the first time you meet them. Who came up with this stuff? I decide that Skylar is someone I want to talk to. She may hold the answers to who I am or who I was. At least, she'll be entertaining to talk to.

Searching my phone I remember she said she's listed under Sky, and there she is. She answers on the first ring.

"Ava, did you remember?"

Hi, and no. "Um, sorry, no, I don't remember anything."

There's a pause. "Oh, I was hoping... is everything all right?"

I clear my throat. "I was going through the shoebox you left last week. Do you want to come over?"

"Yes, of course I do. Tonight?"

I look at the clock and it's after 9:00. "It's too late, I'm...."

"No, no, it's not too late at all. I'll grab a pizza and be right over."

"Oh, okay. Good. I'll see you soon. I like cheese and...."

"Pepperoni on your pizza. Yea, I know. I'll be over in a bit."

In a bit? That seems like something I would say. "Okay, be careful."

Skylar is here before I know it. She comes in with a large pizza and a bottle of Moscato wine. She's wearing a pair of black leggings and a hot pink hoodie. Her dark hair is pulled into a high curly ponytail. She smiles and looks happy to be here. I smile in return and wish I were as excited about seeing her. If I had any memory, I'm sure I would be just as delighted.

"Please come in."

She removes her shoes and follows me into the dimly lit house. It's a big house, and I use only a few lamps that are in the large family room for lighting. I already have plates, cups, and napkins on the coffee table when she gets here.

Once we pour the wine and open the pizza box, she says, "I was so excited you called. I was hoping you got your memory back."

"I wish I had."

"Nothing?"

I shake my head. "Nada." I take a bite of the pizza and close my eyes to savor the taste. "Oh. My. God."

"It's good, right?" she says as she takes a bite.

"Oh, yeah. This is heavenly."

"Pizza Boy always was your favorite."

When the wine is gone and the pizza is almost gone, she says, "So you went through the shoebox?"

"I did." I smile and it's a genuine smile.

"You read the notebook?"

I giggle. "Who came up with that stuff?"

"Let's put this stuff away and I'll tell you." 
Chapter Two: Fact or Fiction

Skylar

We put the leftover pizza in the refrigerator and I ask where the restroom is. We were best friends until she got married and then Connor put a stop to that. Well, I think it was Connor. Chase and I didn't see her much after the wedding. I can see the confusion on her face when I don't know where the restroom is.

"I've never been to your new house before."

"Sure, follow me." I follow her down a long hallway. "Here ya go." She turns on the light and opens the restroom door wide for me.

"Thanks, wine goes right through me."

We sit on the couch and I tell her when we met. I tell her we were best friends in high school and in college. I also tell her we worked at the hospital together until she got married, and that's when she quit. "I was a nurse?" She thinks for a moment. "I'm a nurse?"

I wonder if I should have told her. Wouldn't her parents have told her this? Why didn't they? With amnesiac patients, I know you're supposed to take it slow. I do remember that from nursing school, but have I ever had an amnesiac patient before? Am I telling her too much? Is this why her parents didn't say anything? "You are. You're a damn good nurse, too." I figure honesty is the best thing for her.

"What kind of nurse was I?" She laughs. "Please don't tell me I was a corrections nurse."

Now I laugh. "We actually talked about going into corrections." Chase talked us out of it. "You worked in the operating room."

She thinks for a minute. "I wish I could remember."

"I wish you could, too. You will in time."

"I sure hope so." Before the mood gets somber, she says, "Enough of that. So tell me about the box of fun stuff."

I sit further into the couch and tuck my legs under my butt. "Here, hand me the box." When she hands it to me, I search inside and pull out two movie ticket stubs, "Here, this was our favorite movie." I hand her the stubs and she giggles. "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

"I love that movie. Is it weird that I can remember that movie, but nothing about my life?"

"No, I don't think so."

"I started to go through the box, but when I read the notebook, I stopped and called you."

"You liked the notebook?" I giggle.

"I wondered who thought of the stuff in there. Now I should assume it was you."

"And you," I clarify.

"Me?"

"Don't act all innocent...." I clear my throat. "Oh, sorry. I forgot."

"Yeah, me, too."

We both laugh, but it is nothing to laugh at. My friend suffers from amnesia, and we're laughing about it. She wipes away the tears and says, "The things written in that notebook are hilarious."

"We had a great time in high school and in college."

Ava turns towards me and tucks her legs beneath her butt. "Why did we make a notebook of ways to break up with guys, and why are they so extreme?"

"Are you ready for this?"

I smile. "I can hardly wait."

"It started in high school. We used to break up with guys through text messages. But there was this one guy who wouldn't take a hint. He kept coming around even after you told him it was over."

"I told him it was over?"

Laughing, I say, "Yeah, all this started because of you. That night, we came up with an idea of how to get rid of him once and for all."

"I can hardly wait to hear this."

"It's good. The next day when you saw him in class, you became this clingy, jealous girlfriend. It took two days of you calling him constantly, and accusing him of cheating on you with girls in his class."

Ava snorts and it makes me laugh. "So, he broke with me?"

"Oh, yeah. He totally ignored you after that."

We talk and laugh as I tell her about stories of us in school. We had a great time together, and it feels good to share them with her. I don't think she remembers anything, but it feels good to have Ava back. Well, sort of back. I take more items from the box, and tell her about each one. When she yawns, I say, "I should probably leave. I didn't mean to stay so long."

"I'm glad you came over. It feels good to laugh."

"Me, too. Maybe we can do it again." I look at her, and I realize how much I've missed her. "I've missed you," I finally say.

She frowns. "I wish I could remember you... well, I wish I could remember anything."

"Me, too."

"Why did we stop hanging out together?"

Because you got married, and Connor turned into a jerk. I think he banned you from seeing your friends and from working at the hospital. "I think after you got married, you focused on your marriage and your husband," I say instead.

She looks around the overly large room and frowns. "Is it wrong that I'm sitting here laughing and my husband's dead? I mean, I'm sad that he passed away, but I never cried because of it."

"It's hard to mourn for a man you can't remember."

"Exactly. I feel guilty about that. Claire thinks...."

"Claire?" I interrupt. "You don't call her Mom?"

"I do in front of her." She exhales deeply. "She's a stranger. I don't feel comfortable calling her Mom, or kissing her, or telling her I love her. Same with Marshall. I don't know either of them."

Her words sink in, and I honestly had no idea what she was going through. To wake up and have no memory of anything or anybody. "I'm sorry. This must be really hard for you."

"It is. Do you know what's really hard?"

"What?"

"I feel like I'm not Ava. That I'm not this person who lives here in this house." She looks around again. "Wouldn't I feel like I fit in here? Like this is my home?"

The Ava I knew before she got married would never have chosen this house to live in. She's always been more of a girl who would prefer a cottage with a white picket fence and two and a half kids. "I think this is more suitable for Connor's taste," I say honestly.

"There's one more thing that bothers me."

"What's that?"

"Did I ever wear jeans or leggings or yoga pants?"

"Why?"

"Because, the only things in my closet are dresses and skirts and heels."

That's odd. "You used to wear jeans, and you always loved yoga pants, even though you never learned yoga." I look at what she's wearing now. "Where did you get those?" I ask looking at her sweatshirt and leggings.

"I bought these earlier today when Claire, Marshall, and I went to the mall."

"They're cute. That's the stuff you used to wear when we hung out," I admit. I have no idea why she doesn't have jeans in her closet. She used to wear them all of the time. Maybe Connor was more controlling than I suspected. I unfold my legs from beneath me, and let the blood flow back to them before I stand to leave. "I should go, but you should call me again when you want a friend to talk to."

"Skylar?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for everything. It felt good to laugh with you tonight."

"It did feel good. I've missed you."

Over the next few days, when I'm not at work, I'm talking on the phone to Ava. She still has no memory, but I feel like we're making new ones. She's becoming more of the Ava I knew before she married Connor. I wish she could remember, so I can learn what happened to her during her marriage. I want to know why Connor changed so much. I have this horrible feeling that he was this mean and evil man. God, I hope I'm wrong about that.

Ava

I have this memory... or maybe it was a dream... that Chase was choking me. I can't tell if I was dreaming or remembering something from my past. I researched coma patients and I know that sometimes they'll make up their own memories if they can't remember theirs. Why would I make up a memory like that? It must've been a dream, but it frightens me thinking it might not be. I call Skylar to come over for dinner tonight. I don't remember her, but I like her. I feel like I can trust her, and she is a loyal friend of mine. Will she think I'm crazy when I ask her if Chase is capable of such a horrific act? Probably, but I need to know. I want to know what's fact and what's fiction.

Over the last few days, I have been searching photo albums, diaries, miscellaneous items in my closet and under the bed. I know the doctor said not to rush it, that my memory will come back to me when I'm ready. That's easy for him to say, he knows who he is. I have to live my life saying "hi" to strangers and acting like all is right in my world. I just want to remember so I know where to go from here. Sadly, nothing jogs my memory.

I found some recipe books in the kitchen so I'm assuming I was a pretty good cook at one time. I make a Caprese salad, linguine with baby clams in a white clam sauce, and mini cannolis for dessert. I shower and dress in a casual sundress for dinner. It's just Skylar and me after all.

When the doorbell chimes, I'm surprised and shocked when I see Chase standing at the door with Skylar. He's dressed in a suit and tie, and she's wearing a pink summer dress. I plaster on a fake smile when I see him. I wanted to ask her if he was capable of hurting me, but I can't ask her now. Not with him here.

"Hi," I greet them warmly. "Please, come in." Holding the door open wider for them, I motion with my hand for them to enter.

"I hope you don't care if I brought Chase with me." Skylar walks into the house first, followed by Chase. "I tried to call, but your phone went straight to voicemail."

"No, of course not. There's plenty of food for everyone."

When I close the door, Chase says, "I brought some wine, but I wasn't sure which kind to bring so here's a sweet red and a dry white."

I smile and take them from him. "Can't go wrong with either of these. We're having linguini and clam sauce. Thank you." He seems nice. He's polite and thoughtful. Maybe that was a dream I had of him and not a memory. Sure felt like a memory. I reach for my neck and rub it with my hand.

They follow me into the kitchen where the food is simmering on the stove. I add another place setting to the table, while Skylar stirs the clam sauce, and Chase opens the chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio.

During dinner we talk about today. We don't talk about the past. It's comfortable and it's a way for me to get to know Skylar and Chase better. I've learned that my conversations with Claire and Marshall seem forced. They talk about the past, and the way things used to be. Chase and Skylar talk about the present. The things that are going on now. I like that. It's a way for me to get to know them, and I guess it's a way for them to get to know me.

When we finish off one bottle of wine, Chase opens the other bottle. "Now I wish I had bought two bottles of the white," he says, twisting the corkscrew into the cork stopper.

"Lucky for you, we're not picky." Skylar giggles.

I listen to the banter between them and wonder if they're a couple. If they aren't, they should be. We laugh and it's an enjoyable time. After dinner, we have dessert in the family room where we finish off the wine. I decide I like Chase and that my vision, or whatever you want to call it, must have just been a bad dream. He tells me he had court today and that he was excited about the outcome. It piques my interest and I ask, teasingly, "What was the case about, a cheating husband?"

"As a matter of fact, it was."

My eyes widen. "Please don't tell me you defend those scumbags who cheat."

"No, not them. I defend the women they cheat on."

I look at him and smile. "Good for you." I'm liking him more and more as the night goes on. "I didn't know you were a divorce attorney."

Skylar says, "He's the best damn divorce attorney around."

I watch as he blushes and she continues to boast about his skills in the courtroom. "So how long have you two been dating?" I suspect they're dating, so I just come out and ask.

Skylar chokes on her cannoli, and Chase chokes on his wine. I could be wrong. Skylar sits up and sets her dessert plate on the coffee table. "We don't date."

Chase interrupts, "What Skylar means is, we don't date each other."

I had this all wrong. "You're not a couple?" Could've fooled me.

"No, we're just friends." Skylar stands and takes the dessert dishes into the kitchen. When she returns, we talk some more. "Have you been remembering anything this past week?"

I shake my head. "Nothing to speak about. I thought I remembered something the other day, but it turned out to be...."

"What was it? How do you know it wasn't a memory?" Chase interlocks his fingers and places his hands over his knee, as he pulls his knee up slightly. He looks very handsome and distinguished.

I laugh inappropriately because I'm nervous. I hope it wasn't a memory. "Well, to be honest." I pause. Should I say it? "I wasn't sure it wasn't a memory until you came over tonight."

"Me?" Chase asks. "What did I have to do with it?" He sits up on the edge of the couch. Skylar mimics his move.

"It must have been a dream," I begin to say. "I was confused and thought maybe it was a memory. But after spending time with you, there's no way it could have been a memory." I hope not, anyway.

"What was it about?" Skylar looks hopeful that maybe I'm getting my memory back. "Maybe it was a memory."

I pause and look away from them and focus on the shoes I'm wearing. "I dreamed that Chase was choking me."

"What?" he and Skylar ask in unison.

I shouldn't have said anything. I should have kept my mouth shut. "I know. It just seemed so real at the time. I thought it was really happening to me." I look at Chase and say, "I could feel the air escaping my lungs. It just seemed so real."

"I would never hurt you, Ava. God, I hope you know that."

He looks sad, and I can hear the hurt in his voice.

"I know, and I'm sorry." I look at him and he looks pained. "It's just... I have no memory. I don't know what's real and what's not." I look at Skylar and she looks hurt. "I don't know anyone and I have no idea what's real and what's not. It was so much like a memory." I could feel warm tears running down my cheeks. I could taste the blood from a cut inside my mouth. I could feel my airway being cut off; I couldn't breathe.

"We understand," she whispers.

"It just seemed so real." I look over at Chase. "I'm sorry."

He smiles slightly. "It's okay. But if you ever wonder if something like that is fact or fiction, ask me, or Skylar. One of us will tell you. We'll always tell you the truth, no matter what."

"I will."

Chase

When Ava told me she thought the dream she had of me choking her was a memory, I almost choked on my wine. I would never hurt her. In fact, I would do everything in my power to protect her and Skylar. I hope she knows it was just a terrible dream. I've read where amnesiacs confuse dreams with reality or fact with fiction. They don't have a memory and often will make some up. It must be true.

The last thing I want is for her to look at me like someone who would hurt her. Maybe after tonight, she'll realize I'm her friend.

"Well, I had another memory... or maybe it was a dream, too."

I watch her and she doesn't look at me. She watches Skylar. If it has to do with me hurting her, it was definitely a dream. I want to ask, but then again I don't. "Was I in it?" I ask instead.

She looks at me and smiles. It quickly eases my mind. "No, this one didn't have you in it."

I smile big, and let the relief of her words escape my body. "I'm glad to hear it." I look at Skylar and now she looks fearful.

"Was I in it?" she asks.

Ava laughs as soon as Skylar says those four little words. She understands that Skylar is afraid that the dream was of her hurting Ava or doing something unpleasant to her. "No, relax. You weren't in it either."

Skylar laughs, too. "Thank God." The atmosphere in the room instantly lightens, and I'm grateful for that. "Then you can tell me what your dream or your memory was about."

I add, "You can tell me, too."

"Now, I'm not so sure I want to. It's a little bit embarrassing," Ava says, looking at her shoes again.

"Embarrassing for you or for us?" I have to ask. Ava looks at me, and I make sure I have a smirk on my face. I want this night to continue in the carefree manner in which it started.

"Like you don't already know," she says as she tries to hide her smile.

Skylar and I both sit back into the leather furniture, and I try to appear to be more relaxed than I really am. I've never been one to slouch, and it isn't all that comfortable. At least, not when you're pretending to be relaxed.

"By all means, please go on," Skylar teases.

I interlock my fingers and cup them behind my head, hoping this will make me look more relaxed.

"Now that you're both comfortable, I guess I can tell you."

"By all means." I try to look at her, but she looks away. This must be serious. I lean up on the edge of the couch, and take a drink of my wine.

"How many times have I been married?" she finally asks.

I seriously need to remember to not drink anything when I'm around Ava. That's twice tonight that I almost spewed my drink all over me. Ava is only 25. I guess she could have been married in her teenage years or before I met her, but it's highly doubtful. I think I would have known that about her.

"Once," Skylar says.

I watch the confusion pass over her face. "I really need to give up on ever getting my memory back. From now on, I'm just going to assume everything's a dream, or I'm making it up."

"No, don't give up yet." I don't want her to give up hope just yet.

"What did you remember... or dream?" Skylar asks.

She hesitantly says, "I dreamed or I remembered a bridal magazine. No, not one, several. I guess if it is a memory, I could have read more than one in preparation for my wedding to Connor." She thinks for a minute. "Or... I was dreaming about preparing for my wedding to Connor."

That could have been it. Women read bridal magazines while planning for a wedding all of the time, don't they?

"It's that, or...," Skylar begins to say but stops.

I watch the two and I have no idea what Skylar was going to say.

"Or what?" Ava asks quickly.

"While we were in college, we had a small collection of bridal magazines." Skylar's face lights up at the memory.

"Another breakup?" Ava laughs.

I don't know this story, but it makes me laugh at the things they could have conjured up in college just to end a relationship. I know some of the things they've done to the guys they've dated, but they would never tell me everything. This one is new to me. "This ought to be good. Please tell."

"Okay, but remember, some of these were Ava's ideas, too." Skylar sits up and says with a huge smile spread across her face, "You had this boyfriend and he wanted you to meet his family one night when they were in town." Ava listens quietly as she tries to remember the night. "You got all dressed up and before you left the house, you shoved a copy of American Bride into your overly large purse." Skylar stops to laugh at the memory before she continues. "You said if you didn't like his family, you were going to take out the magazine and begin reading it at the dinner table."

Everyone laughs, and Ava says, "No!"

"Oh, yeah. I was waiting by the phone all night thinking I would need to come and get you."

"And... you didn't?"

Skylar laughs. "I really wish you could remember this."

"Me, too."

"It turns out that the family loved you, and when you went to the restroom, you dropped your purse, it came open and the bridal magazine fell out onto the floor."

Everyone is laughing at the vision. Of course, the only person who should have the memory of the actual night has amnesia, and can't remember a thing. So it's being told as it was told to Skylar by Ava.

"Oh, how embarrassing," Ava says.

"Did I call you to come and get me from the restaurant?"

"Ironically, a few months later, you asked me to be your Maid of Honor in your wedding."

Once the laughter stops, I say, "I think I remember Connor telling me this story, but I never really quite believed him. I guess it was the truth. He told me his mom saw the magazine first, and thought he had already proposed to you, and the dinner was to announce the engagement."

"I can't believe he didn't get up and leave." Ava smiles at me and she looks happy and relaxed.

"Me, either. I would have run fast and furiously." That's the truth.

We talk a bit longer before we help with the clean up and leave. I'm glad I came to dinner, even if Ava didn't invite me. Ava was one of my best friends, and I miss her. Unless her memory returns, I realize we may never get the friendship we had before the accident, but I'll take whatever I can get.

Before we leave, Ava invites Skylar to have lunch with her tomorrow. She also invites me, but I decline; I have to work.

Ava

Standing in the doorway, I watch as Skylar and Chase drive off in the same car. I didn't invite Chase to dinner, but I was glad when Skylar brought him anyway. After I shower, I slip into one of Connor's dress shirts to sleep in. I wish I could remember him. I wish a memory would surface; maybe that would trigger other memories. I don't feel like the person I was before. And I'm not sure how my family and the community will perceive this new me. Connor was an attorney. Am I expected to behave a certain way? Dress a certain way? My house and my clothes certainly tell me I am.

The next day, I shower and dress in something from my bedroom closet. Claire called and asked me to meet her for lunch. She wanted to pick me up, but today, I insisted on driving myself. It'll be the first time I'll venture out in my car alone.

I shiver when I see only one car in the two-car garage. It instantly reminds me of the accident that claimed Connor's life. Of course, the car was totaled as a result. I didn't ask and I haven't Googled the accident either. I don't want to know where it happened. With my luck, if I read about it or drive by the accident site, those are the memories that would flood my thoughts.

Once I'm fastened into my seat belt, I drive through my gated neighborhood and wish I hadn't. People stare and wave as I drive by. I have no idea who these people are, but I assume they know me. I just smile and wave back.

I stop by and pick up Skylar before meeting Claire. Claire is waiting at the entrance of the restaurant when I pull in. I didn't tell her I was bringing Skylar. I was afraid she would try to talk me out of her coming with me. I also didn't tell Skylar we were meeting Claire.

"There's your mom," she says, unsuspecting.

"She's meeting us here." I park the car and say, "She called me after I asked you to have lunch."

"Oh. Does she know I'm coming with you?"

I reach for my purse. "No, I didn't see any need to tell her."

"I wish I had known that you were meeting your mom here." She reaches for the door handle. "I haven't seen your mom since...."

"You were banned from the hospital?" I remember her telling me that there was a sign-in sheet and a week later she and Chase were on the list banning them from seeing me.

"That's right. I don't think she'll be happy seeing me here with you."

Opening the car door, I say, "C'mon, I have a feeling Marshall's to blame for that."

Claire smiles as we make our way to the front entrance of the restaurant where she's standing. She hugs me and then she hugs Skylar. I can see the confusion on both of their faces, but neither one says anything. It confirms to me that Marshall was the culprit with the visiting list. Maybe he did it out of concern or love for me, but I'm not so sure.

We sit in the corner of the quaint Greek restaurant and order lunch. The waitress acts as though she knows me, but I can't remember her. I smile and pretend that all is right in my world. I've been doing this for a few months and it seems to work. I've learned that when people ask, "How are you?" they really don't care, so the conversation is over fairly quickly. People seem to know me by sight, but they apparently aren't friends.

"I haven't seen you for awhile, Skylar. How have you been?" Claire asks as she fidgets with her white linen napkin.

"I'm good. Just getting reacquainted with Ava."

"The last time I saw you was at the hospital." I can see the uncomfortable look on Skylar's face. I didn't know Claire was confrontational. I didn't see that coming.

"It's been awhile." I can see the uncomfortable look on Skylar's face turn to something I can't figure out. "I tried calling you a few times when Chase and I were banned from the hospital, but you must have changed your number."

"You both were banned from seeing Ava?"

The waitress brings our salads and leaves.

"That's right. It happened about a week after we were asked to start signing in whenever we visited."

"I'm sorry." Claire looks sad. "I suspected something had happened."

Skylar's face softens. "It's all right. We both thought Marshall was trying to protect Ava." Skylar looks from Claire to me. "I did get concerned when I couldn't reach you by phone."

Claire gives a tight smile. "I lost my phone during all of the... commotion."

"I'm sorry. I didn't consider that." Skylar looks sadly at Claire. "I thought that once we were banned from seeing Ava, that you intentionally had your number changed to keep us from reaching you."

Claire refolds her already folded napkin, and drapes it over her lap. "You helped me through a rough time while my Ava was in the hospital. I would never cut you out of her life."

Skylar looks at her salad. "I feel horrible. I should have known better. I'm sorry."

Claire takes a sip of her water. "Well, I'm glad this is cleared up and you two are getting reacquainted."

I smile. "Me, too."

"Me, three," Skylar adds. A quick vision flashes before my eyes and it's gone before I can grasp it. "Me, three" sounds so familiar. I wish I could remember.

During lunch I finally ask. "So why would Marshall... I mean Dad, ban the two people who seem to be my only two friends from visiting me? I mean, lots of people seem to know who I am and they speak or wave to me, but they aren't my friends. They must know me because of Connor."

"It's only my guess," Claire speaks softly, "but I think it would be to protect you."

"From what?" I ask.

"That, I can't be certain."

After lunch, we do a little shopping before heading home. We stay away from large malls, so we shop at a nearby shopping plaza instead. Claire thought it would mean less invasion of my privacy. She thought wrong. People still came up to me talking like I knew them. It's not their fault I don't have a memory of who they are or what they mean to me. They tell me how sorry they are about Connor's death and what a wonderful man he was. I just politely nod, say my hellos, and make an excuse as to why I can't stay and chat with them.

After an unsuccessful shopping trip, we leave to go home.

On the drive to drop off Skylar, I ask, "Do you mind if we stop by the cemetery first?"

"No, I don't mind."

I look straight ahead. "I spoke to Brett and Nichole, Connor's mom and dad, a few weeks ago. They told me they went ahead and chose a tombstone for Connor." I turn right on Oak Marsh Road. "I think they were worried that maybe I wanted to do it."

"Are you sure you want to take this road?"

I quickly look at Skylar. "Yes. It's the fastest way to the Oak Hill Cemetery."

"You're right." She watches the road. "So did you want to choose his tombstone?"

I stare straight ahead. "No, I didn't. I think they did the right thing by picking out the grave marker for their son. I have no idea what to get for him." A shiver runs down my arm.

"You haven't been down this road or to the cemetery since the accident, have you?"

"No. What does this road have to do with anything?" Just as I say that, I see a wooden cross stuck in the ground along the side of the road. "Oh, shit." The realization hits me. I slow and pull over on the side of the road. I stare at the cross. "This is where it happened, isn't it? This is where Connor died, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, Ava. I was hoping that someone had told you."

Opening the car door, I get out without answering her. I look up and down the straight road. It doesn't seem like a likely place to have a fatal car accident. Not unless it was raining and the road was slippery. Or snowing, but it doesn't snow much in Lake City, Florida. I hear the car door shut and Skylar is right behind me. "I need to see the exact spot where it happened."

"Why?" she asks. "It won't change anything."

Because I'm drawn to it. Because I'm hoping it'll stir a memory. "Because I want to see the spot that changed my entire life. The spot that claimed my husband's life."

As we get closer to the cross, we both remain quiet. What I thought were plastic flowers around the cross, I soon realize are real flowers: white calla lilies. Someone's been here. Who would be leaving Connor flowers? "Have you or Chase been out here?"

"No. Not since before the accident. It's too painful of a reminder to see it. We always take the long way around to the cemetery to avoid this road."

"His parents or my parents must have been here and left the flowers."

Skylar doesn't say anything. I look at the wooden cross and the live calla lilies placed neatly around the cross. I also look towards the empty field. I know that when there's a car accident, someone doesn't necessarily wreck and die exactly where a family member or friend leaves the cross. I don't see tire tracks in the grass, but I do see some new grass growing further into the field. That's where the accident happened. That's where Connor's life ended, and where my life changed forever. A memory starts to take form. The taste of blood. Pain. Fear. I'm frightened. Why am I frightened? From the accident? It must be. What else can it be from?

"It happened over there, didn't it?"

"From what I heard, the car flipped over before coming to a rest on its roof. So, yes, it probably happened somewhere in the field."

I remember this vaguely: "STOP IT!" I don't know if I said it or someone else.

"Was I thrown from the vehicle?"

"Ava, come on. Let's go home." Skylar has pleading eyes, but I need to know.

"I think my memory's coming back." I want answers and maybe if she thinks my memory is coming back, she'll tell me.

"No, Ava," she says in a whisper. "It wasn't you who was thrown from the vehicle." My knees buckle and she steadies me. "Come on, we're leaving."

Skylar

Ava sits quietly in the passenger seat while I drive us home. I decided she was in no condition to drive, and that she had had enough for one day. On the drive home, she wipes away a few stray tears but remains silent. Maybe I should have told her to take another route to the cemetery. I debate on how much to tell her. What should I tell her? I know some things and other things are speculation or hearsay. Chase knows more than I do since he worked with Connor. "Take it slow with amnesiacs," the medical professionals warn. "Don't rush their memory," they say.

I park in the garage of Ava's home, and call Chase to see if he can pick me up and take me home. He can, but it'll be awhile. He doesn't ask why, and I wouldn't expect him to. Once inside the house, Ava says, "I remember blood and pain, and someone yelling 'STOP IT!'"

I sit down at the kitchen table only after Ava sits. She has a confused look on her face as she tries to make sense of her memory. "What else do you remember?"

My question saddens her. "Nothing from today."

"You've had other memories?" I ask hopefully.

She looks up at me. Her long thick dark hair is pulled up into a ponytail. "I don't know if it's a memory or a dream." I remember when she thought Chase choking her was a memory. "Today you said 'me three' when Claire and I agreed that it was nice that you and I were getting reacquainted."

"Do you remember me saying that before?"

"It sounded familiar to me, like maybe you always say that or something."

I smile and I want to stand up and hug her. "I always say that, and you always hated when I said it."

"I wish I remembered more."

"You will. I know you will."

"Do you think the blood and screaming were a memory, too?" Ava asks.

I think for a minute. I wish it was from a dream. "I think it sounds like it might be a memory from the accident."

"I was afraid of that." She stands and walks to the kitchen counter. "I need something to drink." I watch as she removes two wine glasses and a bottle of Moscato wine from the wine refrigerator. "You're not driving anymore today, are you?" she says as she walks towards me.

"As a matter of fact, I'm not."

"Good." Ava opens the wine and she pours us a glass. We talk about everything but the accident and Connor. I guess Connor is still too painful to talk about, even if she can't remember him. He's dead, and a death is still sad, even if you don't remember the person.

We drink and talk until Chase comes to pick me up. By the time he gets here, we're giddy.

"Looks like you ladies had a great time." He sets a pizza box down on the table.

"We did once we started drinking." Ava smiles. "Do you want some?" She holds up the empty bottle of wine and tips it upside down over her almost empty wine glass. "Oops, sorry, we're out."

I giggle and Chase smiles. "That's all right. I didn't want any, and it looks like you don't need any more."

He walks over to the counter and returns with three plates and napkins. "I brought pizza. I didn't expect you guys to finish off a bottle of wine so soon."

"You can thank Connor for that."

Chase looks up at me and now I wish I hadn't drunk that last glass of wine. I say, "We took Oak Marsh over to the cemetery this afternoon."

He nods.

"Yep, but we didn't make it to the cemetery," Ava says.

He opens the pizza box and places a piece of pizza on each plate and slides it over to us. "I need a beer." Chase stands and walks to the refrigerator to get a Corona.

Opening his beer he says, "How did you know?"

"I saw the cross on the side of the road."

He sits and takes a large drink. "And you just knew that was where the accident happened?"

"I got chills." Ava takes a bite of her pizza.

"Chills, huh?"

"Yep, and I felt pain, and tasted blood, too."

I watch as Chase lowers his beer. "You remembered something, Ava?"

"It was just a flash of something. I thought I remembered someone yelling, 'STOP IT!'"

"Was it a man or a woman doing the yelling?"

"I don't know. The memory was gone just as quickly as it came."

"This might be a big step in your recovery."

"I sure hope so. I just hope the next memories are more pleasant than the ones I've had so far."

We eat some pizza and leave.

Chase

The next morning, I go in to work and see Marshall Richards talking to one of the paralegals in the conference room. Lorraine has been working at the law firm for a few years, and she and Connor were always close.

The conference room has glass walls and offers very little privacy. We mostly use this room for meetings with the staff, and not for outside clients. Walking past the room, I look over and see Lorraine and Marshall sitting across from each other. It almost looks like a business meeting between the two. A million things run through my mind of what Ava's dad would be doing here talking to Lorraine. When I walk past them towards my office, they don't see me.

When I leave for court, the conference room door is open, and Lorraine and Marshall are both gone. I see a colleague in his office, and I ask him who cleared out Connor's office after his death. I'm not surprised to learn that Lorraine cleared it out, and Marshall and Brett, Ava's and Connor's dads, came to pick everything up. I assume Ava would have done it if she hadn't suffered such traumatic injuries herself.

By the end of the day, I go straight to Gondolier's Pizzeria for dinner. I order pasta and a double scotch on the rocks. I remember something that happened awhile back, and I never gave it a second thought until today. Now, I can't get it off of my mind.

While sitting at the corner table, I watch as Marshall walks in with Lorraine. Lorraine has changed from her work clothes of a dress and heels, and she is now wearing a sexier, more slimming dress. It isn't so much her outfit that catches my eye as it is the baby she's holding, and Marshall. Just before Connor's accident, Lorraine went on maternity leave. I haven't seen her baby yet, nor have I asked Lorraine about him.

I silently watch as they are led to a private table on the other side of the room. It's a small restaurant and although I try to not watch them, I find it difficult to look away. Marshall acts friendly, and he is attentive both to the baby and to Lorraine. Why is he here with her? Why was he at the office seeing her? There's only one logical answer, and I hope it's not an affair.

During dinner, I decide how to handle my exit. It's a small restaurant and I'm sure to be seen. I'm not sure if I should let them know that I've seen them together, or leave and act as though I never saw them at all.

I haven't seen Marshall since he banned me from seeing Ava at the hospital. I'm still upset with him that he would do that to me and to Skylar. I always wanted to confront him, but Skylar thought it was best to wait. Wait for what, I have no idea.

After dinner, I decide to stop by their table. Maybe the scotch had something to do with it. Maybe my loyalty to Ava also had something to do with it. If he's cheating on Claire, I want him to know he's been busted. I pay my bill, stand tall as I turn my back to the table, and clear my throat. I want them to see me and know that they've been seen before I even get to their table. After I take a drink of my water, I turn around and they are both watching me.

We make eye contact, and I smile as if it's the first time I've seen them. Buttoning my jacket, I walk straight to their table. I smile and reach my hand out for Marshall's when he stands. I'm an attorney, I can fake politeness. We talk briefly and awkwardly before I leave.

Ava

When Chase and Skylar leave, I go to bed where sleep quickly finds me.

"What's this for?" I look at the large plastic trash bag.

"I want you to throw away all of your pants. From now on, you'll wear only dresses or skirts."

I laugh. "Connor, is this a joke? I love wearing comfortable clothing."

"Wrong. You 'loved' wearing comfortable clothing. When I get home from work, I want your closet rid of such hideous items."

I watch in disbelief as he walks towards the front door. "And go out and buy yourself something more suitable to wear. I hate looking at you in those... stretchy things you're always wearing."

I toss and turn and flip my pillow over to the cooler side and dream.

"Damn it, Ava! I said no!"

"Why? I want to see them. They're our friends, and I miss them."

"I don't want you seeing them — either of them. You're above them, start acting like it!"

"You didn't think that when they were in our wedding." Connor raises his hand and slaps me across the face. "Stop it!" I yell. Instantly my face burns, and for the first time in my life, I fear my husband. I cower. I don't stand up for what I believe in. I don't defend my rights to see my friends, to wear what I want to wear. I cower and remain quiet. My lip instantly begins to swell, and the taste of blood reminds me of my current situation.

"I swear, Ava." Connor puffs his chest out and stands over me. "You're going to start listening to me if it's the last thing I do."

The next morning, I call Doctor Adams for an emergency appointment. I'm not surprised when he squeezes me in. I don't call Claire or Marshall, and I don't call Skylar or Chase. I need to distinguish what is fact and fiction. If the dream is fact, that would explain why my closet is full of dresses and skirts, why Chase and Skylar were absent from my life after my marriage, and the earlier vision of tasting blood. Of course, I was drinking alcohol prior to bed so these may not even be memories, but very vivid dreams.

Before my appointment, I sit on the floor inside my closet, and go through the photo albums stored in the boxes on the top shelf. None of the photos has Chase or Skylar in them. They're omitted from even our wedding pictures. Why would they be in the wedding party, but not be in the wedding pictures? I search through photos after photos, looking for what? I have no clue. Friends? Family? Children? No children are in any of the pictures. Did none of our family or friends have children? I look closely at the photos, notice something, remove several pictures from the album, and take them with me to see Doctor Adams.

"Ava, you're looking well," he greets me.

"Thank you."

"How are you?" he asks, sitting on the stool.

"I'm good. I've been having these flashes of something that leaves just as quickly as it came."

"A memory?"

"Maybe, and last night I had nightmares." I think for a moment and he gives me time to compose my thoughts into words. "I think the nightmares are a memory."

"Why do you think that?"

I tell him about the dreams and how Connor became more controlling in each one. I tell him about me not having any pants or slacks in my closet, and about our friends being absent from our photo albums.

"So you think that validates your nightmares?"

"I do. I also found these." I show him the three photos I took from the photo albums. One was on our wedding day, one was on our first wedding anniversary, and the last one was taken a week before the accident. "I think these are evidence that Connor was abusive and controlling." The first photo, I looked happy. The second photo, I was thinner, I didn't smile, and I even had a small bruise on my arm. The third picture, I looked like I was crying. I was thinner than in the prior year, and I had a yellowing bruise on my left cheek.

"I'm sorry. It's hard for me to tell you what's real or not," he says.

"But pictures don't lie."

He crosses his leg at the knee. "No, they sure don't. Have you asked anyone in your family about this?"

"No. I'm not sure how."

"What about your mother or your friends?"

"My friends haven't seen me since the wedding. And Claire...."

"Claire?"

"She's my mother. She's also a complete stranger to me. I might be able to ask her."

"I would say that's a good place to start. But remember, she may be hearing this for the first time, too." He pushes his eyeglasses up further onto his nose. "Many women who endure domestic violence will make excuses and lie about their injuries. I'm not saying you were abused and that you did this. I'm just saying that Claire may be just as shocked from what you tell her, as you thought it was a possibility."

"I never thought of that. Maybe I should pay my in-laws a not-so-friendly visit. I'm sure they know what kind of man their son was."

I leave the doctor's office and head home. I want to do so much, but I need to collect as much evidence as I can before I go asking family members if Connor was an abuser. On the way home, I decide to make a stop at the cemetery first. I don't take Oak Marsh this time; instead, I decide the long way around would be better. Maple Hill is a more scenic route, and a more pleasant drive.

I've never been here before, but I know where Connor's plot is from Claire telling me. I go around the loop until I see the large oak tree. As I pull in, I see a woman kneeling down in front of what I would assume is Connor's grave. It could be a neighbor, a friend, or a co-worker. Hell, it could even be a family member, and I wouldn't know.

I pull into a parking space, and she looks up at me. She looks sad, and it saddens me. Connor was my husband, yet this woman is in mourning. I've never cried over the loss of Connor. It's hard to mourn a complete stranger. I do feel bad over his death. I feel bad whenever anyone loses their life. I give her a slight smile, before opening the car door.

She stands and brushes off her knees and dries her tears. Several different species of flowers are on Connor's grave. I wasn't planning on coming, but I feel weird showing up with nothing. No trinket, no silk or live flowers — nothing. I make a mental note to bring something the next time I come. I'm his wife, so I should at least bring him something.

"Hi," I say as I approach her. I look behind her to make sure I'm at the right place. The gray granite tombstone stands almost five feet tall. In silver letters it reads,

Connor Brantley Emerson

Loving Son and Husband

His life is a beautiful memory, his absence a silent grief.

"Hi, Ava. I'm surprised to see you here."

Do I know her? "I'm sorry. Have we met?"

"Of course, the amnesia. I'm Lorraine, I worked with Connor."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"Oh, please. No apologies needed. You've been through so much."

"Thank you."

She looks back at the tombstone and says, "I should leave so you can have some private time with Connor."

I don't want her to leave, and I have no idea why. "Do you come here often?"

"I do. Connor is... I mean, Connor was great to work with. I miss him."

"Do you have children?"

"A son. He's eight months."

"I love children."

She looks at me oddly. "Really? Connor told me you both never wanted children."

Wait? What? I love kids. I can feel it when I see them at the park, or in the grocery store. "The amnesia has me all messed up," I admit. "I have no idea of the person I was prior to the accident, but this Ava I am now, loves children."

She smiles and says, "I really need to go. Have a nice day, Ava."

"You, too, Lorraine."

I look down at the tombstone at the different species of flowers lying at the granite base. It looks like Connor had a lot of friends. Maybe I had him figured out wrong. Maybe the dreams are just a dream. What about the pictures, and the bruises on my skin? Pictures don't lie.

I sit down and remain quiet. I'm not sure what to say; it's not like he can hear me anyway. I look through the flowers. Some have cards and a few don't. I read the cards, but some of the writing is hard to make out. There's a bouquet of calla lilies, and the card has fresh writing on it. I wonder if the person who left these is the same person who left the calla lilies at the accident site?

The card reads,

You are forever in my heart.

Looking around the cemetery, I suddenly feel like I'm reading something personal and private. Is this an invasion of his privacy? Can a wife invade her dead husband's privacy? I repeat the words. "You are forever in my heart." Amnesia or not, I know this is from someone who is more than a friend. Would a mother write something like this to her son? 
Chapter Three: Accusations and Assumptions

Claire

I was so excited when Ava called and wanted to meet me for tea. I suggested meeting at the Magnolia Tea Room over on Mint Grove Lane. It's a quaint tea and sandwich shop that we often frequented together. I offered to pick her up, but she insisted on driving.

When I arrive, I get us a table for two that overlooks the flower garden. In my opinion, it's the best table in the shop. I order mint tea for myself and wait for Ava to come so she can order her own flavor. Before the accident she would also have the mint tea, but these days, it's hard to tell what her preference is.

I miss my daughter and can't wait to see her. Since the accident she's different. Without any memory of who she was, she's trying to find the new her. It must be difficult, but if she ever asks, I would help her anyway I could. She struggles with calling me Mom, and I'm okay with that. She can call me Claire for the rest of my life as long as she's here with me.

When she pulls into the parking space, I watch my beautiful daughter, who is dressed in a floral pink and white dress. She looks like my daughter, but she doesn't completely act like her. The old Ava before her marriage would have exited the car smiling and searching for me through the windows until she saw me sitting here. This Ava doesn't search for me through the windows. I watch and wait for her to join me.

"I'm late. I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"It's fine, I just got here." She doesn't kiss me, but she takes the only seat immediately across from me. She orders a mint tea and I say, "What are you up to today?"

"I went to see Doctor Adams, then I went to the cemetery."

I try to hide my concern. "Did you take the Maple Hill scenic drive or Oak Marsh?"

I watch Ava and she looks sad. "I know about the accident, Mom. I took the scenic route today."

"How do you know?"

"Skylar and I took Oak Marsh yesterday."

The waitress comes over and we order the hot tea lunch special. Finger sandwiches and crumpets. Ava loved to have tea parties when she was a child. It's what started her on her porcelain teacup collection. This was Ava's and my favorite place to come before her marriage.

When the waitress leaves, Ava continues, "I saw the cross and then I got a cold chill, that's when I knew."

"I should have told you."

"It wouldn't have mattered. I needed to see the accident site sooner or later."

"Is that why you went to see Doctor Adams?"

She tells me about her dreams and about the memory, and then she shows me the pictures. "There are very few people I can ask, but I need to know. Was Connor abusive towards me, or are these dreams just that, dreams?" When I don't say anything, she says, "These pictures don't lie."

I take the pictures and hold them up with shaky hands to get a better view. My beautiful daughter on her wedding day was probably the last time I saw her truly happy. The next picture she looked sad, and in the last picture I hadn't seen her in months prior to it being taken.

"Oh, Ava, I wish I knew. Sometimes when we would have plans, you would cancel at the last minute. Your dad and I would call you, and you would always have an excuse for why you couldn't see us."

"When you did see me, did I have bruises on me?"

"No, you never did." I think for a minute. "Sometimes, you would have long sleeves on in the summer." Was my daughter abused, and I had no idea? Wouldn't I know if she was?

She sighs. The waitress brings us our food and leaves. "It seems like you and I had a great relationship. Did we?"

"We did. We were best friends until...."

"Until what?"

I look away. "Everything changed after the wedding. I didn't see you as often. You didn't call, and you always had other plans with Connor and his family." I look at Ava and wipe away a tear. "I figured since you got married, that his family had adopted you into their family, so to speak."

"I'm sorry. I can tell this hurt you."

"It all right. I just wanted my daughter to be happy."

We finish our tea and crumpets and she says, "Let's talk about something else." She looks around at the beautiful tea room. "I really like this place."

Smiling, I say, "I know you do."

"I think you, Skylar, and I should open up a tea room one day."

"I thought you wanted to open a bed and breakfast."

She laughs. "I do. We can do both."

"Where would you put the teahouse? Inside of your bed and breakfast and make it a tea room?"

She thinks for a moment and says, "Outside might be better. I read recently about a Taoist master who ran a moving 'tea room.' He would simply find a beautiful outdoors spot by beautifully scented flowers and start making tea, serving anyone who wanted some and accepting whatever amount of money they paid him, including nothing. This sign announced his prices: 'The price of tea is however much you give me, from a hundred pounds of gold to a penny. You can even drink for free, if they like, but I can't give you a better bargain than that.'

"But we're American capitalists, so we could do your idea of having a tea room inside the bed and breakfast — with previously set prices. We could have an afternoon tea or tea at high noon. It'll take all three of us to run and operate it."

I'm so glad to see the spark return in my daughter's eyes. It's been a long time. "And what would we call it?"

She looks outside at the beautiful flower garden. "Oh, I got it."

I laugh loudly. "That was fast."

"We could call the bed and breakfast 'The Rose Garden Inn,' and we could call the tea room 'Rose Petals' or 'Rose Buds.'"

"Ava," I say, "those are lovely names."

"Thank you. I think so."

I look at the clock and say, "I need to get home. Your father will be there shortly, and we have a dinner date."

"Is he good to you?" she asks.

"He is, I have a good life."

"Are you happy?"

I ask, "Aren't these things a mother should be asking her daughter?"

"Yes, I'm happy. Now answer the question."

How do I answer that? I am happy, but this has been a trying year for all of us. "Things are different as you get older. The giddiness isn't there. It's been replaced with issues and problems of everyday life."

I wait for her to say something, but she doesn't.

She quickly picks up the check.

I say, "I'll get that."

"No, I want to. Thank you for meeting me. I had a good time."

"I'll always meet you anytime you want. Just call me."

We stand and she says, "I had a great childhood, didn't I?"

Removing my purse from the back of the chair, I say, "You did. Your father made sure of it."

"He did?"

"He did. When you were a little girl, you gave him a handmade Father's Day card in which you wrote, 'I am having a happy childhood.' He can seem — and sometimes be — stern and strict, especially to those who don't know him well, but he's a good man."

Ava

I kiss and hug Mom before she leaves. I had a great visit with her, and I know that she was a wonderful mother. I don't need to remember that; I can sense it.

On the way home, I decide to build my relationship with my mother and with my father. Without a memory, I went into this with barriers and walls. It's hard to know who and what to trust or believe. Claire loves me and I want more of her in my life. She may not hold the answers to my questions about the last two years, but I trust her to help me to get back to the person I once was.

When I get home, I change into yoga pants and a T-shirt, and go back into my closet. I want to search through some more pictures and the boxes of mementos. The answers to my past are in this house, and I swear I'm going to find them.

The boxes and photo albums are sorted according to years. I find a lot from my earlier years prior to my marriage of friends and family members. There are several happy photos of me and Marshall. He loved me, I can see it. Sadly, there are very few items after my marriage. A few pictures of Connor and me, and a few pictures of our family, but no pictures of the friends we once had. As the years move on, I become thinner, and I don't look as happy as the earlier years. Connor, on the other hand, looks the same. He's tall with dark, tamed, curly hair. He's very serious and distinguished looking.

Just as I hold up an earlier photo and a later photo for comparison, the house burglar alarm sounds. I jump up, and the photos on my lap scatter across the carpeted closet floor. The phone rings. I run to the landline phone to answer it. "Hello, Ava speaking."

"Mrs. Emerson?"

"Yes."

"This is Guardian Protection Services. We just received an alarm at your home address. Is everything all right?"

"I think so. I'm not sure how to disarm the alarm."

"Stay inside the house, the police are en route to check it out, and I'll disarm it from here."

"Okay, great. Thank you. The security code to the gate is...."

"We already have it, ma'am. They'll be there shortly."

I want to go downstairs, but I'm afraid to, so I sit on my bed and wait. It's just after midnight and in my opinion, it's too early for someone to be robbing a house. Don't those things happen in the early morning hours? When I see headlights coming down the cul-de-sac road, I go downstairs.

One officer comes inside the house, while the others look for signs of a break-in outside. While waiting and as my anxiety level continues to climb, I call Skylar to see if I can stay with her. I would have called Mom, but she and Marshall had plans. We arrange for me to drive to her house once the police leave.

The police tell me that other than finding a man's shoeprints in the bushes, they didn't find anything. Nothing seems to be tampered with. Before they leave, Skylar pulls in and demands answers. I thought I was meeting her at her house, but I guess she had other plans. The police walk her outside and show her the shoeprints while I pack an overnight bag.

On the drive to her house, she says, "Who would be snooping around in your bushes?"

I look at her and I want to laugh. If I weren't so scared, maybe I would be laughing. "Since I have no memory, it's really hard for me to tell." A smile forms instead.

"Always a smart ass," she teases.

"Maybe it was the gardener's shoeprints?" I say seriously. "He was trimming the bushes the other day."

"Then what set off the alarm?" she asks.

"That, I don't know. The wind?"

"No, someone was there. I don't like you living in that big house alone."

She pulls into her driveway and I say, "Well, I'm not getting a roommate."

"Oh, I don't blame you. Too many crazies out there for that. I was thinking maybe you should sell it. You know, buy something smaller."

I've been seriously thinking about buying a bed and breakfast, but I'm not sure I should mention it to her just yet. She already thinks there are too many crazies out there, so she wouldn't like the idea of me opening a home to strangers. Maybe I should tell her just to see her expression. Nah, I'll save it for a time where I can enjoy the look on her face. "That might be a good idea. It's not like this house holds any special memories or anything."

We wait for the garage door to close before we get out of the car. "It must really be hard for you to not have any memories at all."

"I think I might be getting used to it. I'm making new memories, and I like that. It's always awkward when I see someone who knows me. They expect me to know and remember them. It was awkward with Mom at first, but not anymore. I can sense the love she has for me."

"And Marshall?"

"Marshall loves me. I saw proof of that tonight when I was looking over old photos."

She laughs. "He does love you. When you were growing up, he was more carefree than he is now."

"I don't understand why he banned you and Chase from visiting me in the hospital though."

"Me either, you should ask him."

We dress for bed and lie on the sectional sofa, eating popcorn and binge watching The Walking Dead on Netflix. We laugh a lot and it feels good. To us, the zombies are funny. We watch the show for Rick, the star.

The next day she gets called into work for a few hours. I want to go home, but she insisted I stay here and wait for her. While she's gone, I walk around her house and admire all of her photos on the stands and hanging on the walls. She has so many pictures of us. Framed silly pictures and some serious photos of us at my wedding. It saddens me that I've never seen these before. The house phone rings, and I debate answering it, so I just let it ring. This isn't my house and I have no right answering it. I listen quietly as the answering machine picks it up. "Sky, it's Chase. Pick up." There's a long pause. "You must be out running errands. You're not going to believe this. I saw Marshall having dinner with Lorraine from my office. I'm coming over."

Chase

After leaving a message on Skylar's answering machine, I try to reach her again on her cell phone. It goes right to voicemail. I know she has the day off; maybe she's with Ava. It's been a couple of days since I saw Marshall and Lorraine together, and I pondered about even saying anything to anyone. Normally, things like this don't bother me. You want to have an affair, go ahead. But this is different. This is Ava's family we're talking about. I think I'll feel better once I talk to Skylar about this. I'm sure it's a misunderstanding. I hope it is.

I pull up to Skylar's house and I about fall over when Ava answers the door.

"Hey," I say changing my tone and my surprised expression. "I didn't expect to see you here. Is Skylar home?"

"Come on in," she says, holding the door open for me. "No, Skylar went to work for a few hours." How long has she been here? Did she hear my message I left earlier about Marshall? "Do you want some water or a soda or something?"

She isn't acting any differently. "Sure. Water would be great." Following her into the kitchen, I say, "What are you doing here?"

"The burglar alarm went off at my house last night, and Skylar wanted me to stay here with her."

Shit! She's been here since last night. "Is everything okay at your place?" She must have heard my message. She hands me a bottle of water.

"Nothing was tampered with. The police did find some shoeprints in the bushes."

"Are they suspecting a peeping Tom?"

"Who knows? I personally think the shoeprints were left by the gardener." She opens her water and takes a drink. "What brings you here today?"

I think this is a trick question. I don't want to lie to Ava. Her amnesia is more than enough for one person to deal with. I also don't want to burden her with something I'm not sure about. "Did you hear my message I left earlier on the answering machine?"

"I did. So you think my dad's cheating on my mom?"

"Whoa, I didn't say that."

"You didn't need to." She walks back into the family room and sits on the over-stuffed chair.

"No, Ava. I don't think that."

"Then why would you call Skylar?"

"To see what her thoughts were." Ava raises her eyebrow and tilts her head slightly to the right. She may have amnesia, but she still has the same mannerisms as the old Ava. "Okay, maybe cheating might have crossed my mind." Ava looks sad. "It could have been just a friendly dinner between friends."

"Were they alone?"

"No, she had her son with her."

"Good, maybe you're right. Maybe it was just a friendly dinner." Yeah, maybe it was. I'm sure that's all it was. "How old is her son?"

"Maybe six months, eight months at the most."

"What?" She sits up in the chair. "She's around my age? My dad was having dinner with a woman my age?"

Just as I'm about to say something, Skylar comes in through the garage. "Who's your dad having dinner with?"

I stand so I can greet Skylar. "Hey," I say when she walks around the corner.

She looks at me and then she looks at Ava. "Hey."

"My dad was having dinner with a woman and her young son."

"What!"

Skylar sits down and I explain this whole mess. "It might not be anything to worry about." I don't tell them about him talking to her at the office earlier the same day. This is something I'll keep to myself. Neither of them knows who Lorraine is. I won't tell them she's some tall, voluptuous, blonde bombshell whom I work with.

"But why would my dad be having dinner with her?"

"I don't know. She and Connor were close. Maybe it has something to do with that." I add.

Ava asks, "How close?"

"She was his paralegal."

She nods her understanding. "I'm going to call Mom and see what she's doing."

"Ava, I wouldn't...."

"Don't worry, Skylar. I'm not going to say anything."

As soon as she leaves the room, Skylar furrows her brow. "Why would you say anything to her about her dad and Lorraine?"

"I didn't. I called and left a message on your voicemail. How was I supposed to know she was here?"

Ava yells from the other room, "I can hear you."

Skylar laughs, "Okay, jeesh. We'll wait for you."

I don't say anything; I'm afraid to. I remain quiet, and I remain standing until Ava walks back into the room. The expression on her face is unreadable. Skylar takes a step forward. "What is it?" I say.

"You won't believe this."

"Believe what?" Please tell me I'm wrong. Please tell me he's not having an affair with Lorraine.

"I called Mom and she said Dad's working late tonight. She said this is the third night in a row that's he's been working late." My eyes follow her as she walks back to the over-sized chair and slumps into it. "I think that bastard is cheating on my mom."

"Just because he said he's working late, that doesn't mean that he's seeing someone." I nod to the couch so Skylar will sit down. Following her to the couch, I add, "Don't be so quick to assume something."

"Does this mean I shouldn't find him and accuse him of cheating on my mom?"

I cough. "That is exactly what it means."

"Ava, call him and ask him to meet you for dinner."

"And if he accepts, then what?"

Skylar and I think for a minute, before I get an idea. "If he accepts, use your amnesia to get some answers from him."

At first they both look confused, and then Ava's face lights up. "Oh, I get it."

"Start with the things you already know are the truth, and then trip him up."

Skylar says, "Oh, you mean like the dreams. Not sure what's fact or fiction?"

"Exactly."

Ava stands with her cell phone in hand. "I sure hope he answers."

"Me, too," Skylar says.

"If that doesn't work, then you should just ask him what's going on," I say.

I wait for Ava, the entire time feeling responsible for all of this. I wish I had kept this to myself. Skylar also remains quiet. At first I'm hopeful that Marshall will answer, and then I hear Ava leaving her dad a message in his voicemail. "Tell Ava I'll be back."

I head for the door and Skylar calls out, "Where are you going?"

"I have something to do, I'll be back."

Claire

Marshall's gone again tonight. It's the third night in a row he hasn't been home. I suspected it would happen again tonight, so I didn't plan anything for dinner. It has something to do with Connor and maybe Ava, but I'm not sure exactly how. He won't tell me until he has proof of whatever he's looking for. He's a great husband and a wonderful father. It seems like everything in our life changed when Ava got married. We didn't see her as much as we wanted to, and Marshall felt guilty for the accident, and for Connor's death. I don't know why. He didn't have anything to do with it.

Marshall calls me before I make some hot tea and head up to Ava's old bedroom. I spend a lot of time in this room. Even before her accident, I used to come up here and reminisce about when she was younger. We were so close back then. We were close up until her wedding day. Everything changed after that. I secretly blamed Connor for that. I had no evidence he was keeping Ava from me, but she was different after the marriage. Just like the photos she showed me, she grew thin and depressed. I feel bad that I hadn't realized it. Ava is right, the pictures don't lie.

I have no idea what Connor did to her, if anything. I tried to maintain a relationship with her, but it was hard. She kept backing out of luncheons and shopping trips. On the day of the accident, her second wedding anniversary, we planned to meet up so she could go dress shopping. She canceled on me then, too. She said she had to take care of something, but she wouldn't tell me what. I spoke to Doctor Adams after her accident and after she awoke from her coma. He said to not rush trying to get her memory to return. He also said to be careful what you tell her. I have been careful, but I think that from now on I'll tell her things, even if they are my own suspicions. She's stronger than she was, and she's starting to remember some things. I'll just be careful about how I word things.

Lying on her full-size bed, I cry. I miss my Ava. Her relationship with Connor was probably my fault. I should have demanded to see her. We were always close, I knew something was wrong. Marshall and I talked about it, but we should have done something. He blames himself for not doing something; for not doing what a father should have done to see his daughter. What? Barge into their home and forcefully remove her from it because we assumed she was unhappy? When we did talk on the phone, it was brief. I couldn't detect she was unhappy in that short amount of time.

Today at lunch Ava said she wanted to open a bed and breakfast with a teahouse. What a wonderful idea. If only that could happen for her. She's dreamed of doing that since she was in high school. Other girls her age wanted to be nurses, counselors, doctors, and teachers. Not Ava, she wanted to be an innkeeper.

As I move to sit on the floor, I reach under the bed and pull out the stack of dusty books that have been stored there since her college years. There are several books on how to run your own business, and on what makes a bed and breakfast successful. Opening the books, I'm not surprised to see she has written in them. Ava was always one to make a list, or to circle and highlight important things. Some of the items mentioned in the books are even marked with a red pen. Under the bed there is even a notebook where she wrote important notes, food recipes, and websites for purchasing items in bulk.

I smile. I had no idea how much research she did on this. The front door opens, and I think it's Marshall home from work.

"Mom," Ava yells.

"Up here, Honey."

I try to brush the dust off of my clothes and straighten my hair before she sees me. I must look a mess. I hear more than one set of footsteps walking up the stairs.

"What are you doing up here?" Ava asks.

Skylar and Ava walk into the bedroom. "Hi, Skylar," I say.

She smiles. "Hey." Skylar stands in the doorway, holding a large pizza box.

"Well, Ava, if you must know, I was feeling a bit sorry for myself."

"Oh, Mom. I'm sorry. You should have called me. I would have come right over."

"It's okay. I'm feeling much better now."

Ava jumps on her bed, and the pillows and stuffed animals bounce off, landing on the floor. "Good, we brought pizza."

"Good, I'm starving."

I start to stand and Ava says, "No, stay there. We'll eat up here. I want to see what you're looking at."

I scoot over so Skylar can put the pizza box on the floor in front of us. Ava moves to the foot of the bed and Skylar smiles and says, "Just like old times."

Ava asks, "What is?"

"This." Skylar looks at me and says, "Eating pizza with your mom on the floor in your bedroom."

"We did do this pretty often. Skylar would spend Friday nights here, and we would order pizza on the nights your dad would work late."

"Did he always work late?"

"He's always been a hard worker, and he always wanted to provide for his family and to give his favorite daughter everything she ever wanted."

"He did love his little Ava," Skylar teases.

I say, "One weekend he took you and three of your friends to the butterfly garden in Gainesville while I went shopping with some friends."

I watch as Ava tries to remember. "Did I have pigtails?" Ava asked with her brows furrowed.

Before I can say anything, Skylar hands Ava a piece of pizza and says, "Not unless you wore pigtails in middle school."

Ava laughs. "Ugh, I'll never get this thing working." She points to her head.

"You will in due time." I take a bite of my pizza.

"In due time?" she repeats. "Now that sounds familiar."

Skylar watches me, and I look away from Skylar to see Ava. "You remember that saying?"

"I had a flash of a memory. At least I think it was a memory. They come and go so quickly. I just remember someone saying it. I wish it would come to me. Someone said it, but I don't know who. There isn't a face or a voice, but it just seems familiar."

I frown. I want my daughter to remember. "It'll come."

"Yeah, I know. In due time."

We all laugh. Ava sits on the floor with Skylar and me. Once the pizza is gone, we go through the books and the notebooks that are sprawled all over the carpeted bedroom floor. She gets in her desk for a pen, and writes down the new name for her bed and breakfast. The Rose Garden Inn for the bed and breakfast, and Rose Petals or Rose Buds for the teahouse. "These are great names," Skylar says.

"Thanks. I came up with them when Mom and I went to the teahouse."

"Ava, it's time you stop dreaming about the bed and breakfast. You need to make it a reality."

Skylar interrupts and says, "I agree. It's time we stop dreaming about it, and we make it happen."

I have no idea if Skylar is serious or not, but I would feel better if someone I knew was with Ava as she moves on to the next phase of her life. "That is a great idea."

"Mom? Really? This is just a childhood dream, a fantasy even. Where would we open one?"

"Well, gee, Ava. Let me see." Skylar reaches over her and grabs one of the books on the floor. We giggle as she searches the book for a location. "According to this location guide, Vermont is a great location for a bed and breakfast."

"Too far," I say.

Skylar laughs and raises a brow. "I guess Martha's Vineyard...."

"Yep, that's too far, too."

"Mmm, let me see, Asheville, North Carolina; Washington, D.C.; Barcelona, Spain; Newport, Rhode Island; Savannah, Georgia...."

"That's it," I say.

"Which one?" I tease. "Barcelona?"

"No, Savannah. It's closer than the other places you listed, and it's a beautiful area."

"Um, excuse me." Ava laughs. "I don't think I should be opening or running a business in my condition. Have you forgotten that I can't remember anything?"

"No, Ava, we haven't forgotten. That's why Skylar is going to help you."

"Mom, Skylar works; she can't just up and move."

"Speak for yourself. I'll call in my two-weeks' notice right now, if you want."

We all decide to wait before Skylar calls in and resigns from her nursing job. We laugh as we go through old high school yearbooks and old photo albums. Nothing jogs Ava's memory, but we are all okay with that. It's about making new memories, and getting her back to some kind of normal, and that's just what we are doing.

Marshall comes home and asks to speak with Skylar alone. I know it's the first time they've seen each other since he banned her and Chase from seeing Ava at the hospital. I still have no idea why he did it. He said he was trying to protect Ava. Maybe he thought they would try to force her memory and cause more harm than good. I have no idea. I know that whatever reason he had for doing it, it was for Ava's benefit.

They return from the study and I can see relief on Skylar's face. I know she and Chase must have wondered if they were banned from seeing Ava for other reasons. Marshall will need to call Chase and clear it up with him, if he hasn't already. He's been busy with other things, but this should take top priority. We have dessert and coffee at the table while Ava and Skylar share their ideas with him. He agrees that every place they mention is too far away, except Savannah.

"So when will this move take place?" he asks.

"It's still in the early planning stages," I say.

"I don't see any reason to postpone the search," he says.

Skylar chimes in and says, "Ava's worried about running a business with her memory loss."

"I see. Can you add?" He looks at Ava with a serious look on his face.

"Um, yeah. I can add."

"Can you count?"

"Of course I can count."

"Then I think you're ready. Your memory has nothing to do with you moving on with your life. I think a bed and breakfast could be a very profitable and exciting business for the both of you."

Marshall is doing what Marshall always does. He's supporting our daughter anyway he can. Nothing is more important to Marshall, than Ava's happiness. Sometimes he has a hard time showing it, and sometimes he gets so consumed with work, but I never misunderstand his intentions when it comes to his daughter even when others misunderstand them.

Chase

After I left Ava and Skylar in search of Marshall, I went everyplace that I knew to check before realizing how few places I knew to look. I went by Marshall's office, Lorraine's condo, and a few local hotels. If he's having an affair, assuming he is having an affair, where else would he go? I drive around the city, looking for his black Hummer and her yellow Mustang. Both vehicles should be easy to spot. If I find him, I have no idea what I would say. Would I even confront him? What he does is none of my business. I just don't want him hurting Ava. And if he's hurting Claire, then Ava gets hurt, too. In my opinion, Ava is my business.

I search for two solid hours, driving back and forth from Lorrain's condo to Marshall's office. I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed when I don't find them. With everything that Ava has been through with her father, her husband, and the accident, I'm definitely relieved to not have anything to report back.

When I called Skylar earlier, she told me that she and Ava are going over to spend the evening with Claire. I'm glad she won't be home alone. I just tell Skylar to have fun and I'll speak with them later.

Ava

When Chase left, Skylar and I decided since Dad was gone, we would go over and keep Mom company. I'm glad we did because I had a good time. I didn't remember my past, but it was still fun.

When Dad showed up, I couldn't help remember that Chase said Dad had lunch with a woman from his office and her young son. He's loving towards Mom and that's what I care about. I want to ask him what's going on, but I can't. I can't come out and just ask him. What would I say? "Hey, are you sleeping around on Mom?" No, I can't ask that. Maybe the old me was confrontational, but that's not who I am now. Maybe if he was acting differently towards Mom, I would ask him, but he's not.

At the end of the night, Mom and Skylar insist that I take the notebook and the books about being an innkeeper home with me.

They say it was something I always wanted to do. Although I can't remember that, I do feel something in my soul that says they're right. I didn't act excited about the possibility of opening and operating a bed and breakfast, because I didn't want to get my hopes up. But deep down, I can't wait to read through my notes and start reading the books. And I have been reading about tea rooms and the Japanese tea ceremony despite my amnesia.

"So, are you coming back to my house with me?"

"No, why would I? I have my own home to go to."

"Ava? Does your amnesia affect your short-term memory, too?"

"Skylar? Is that your name?" I tease. "God, I hope not. What are you talking about?"

"The burglar. The alarm? The shoeprints in the bushes that you didn't tell your mom and dad about? Does any of that jog a memory?"

"That wasn't anything. The prints were left by the gardener...."

"And what about the alarm?"

"That was from the wind... or something."

"Look, I would feel better if you'd come and stay with me tonight. At least until we have your dad or Chase look at the alarm system for you. Maybe it did just malfunction."

I know she's looking out for my wellbeing, and I appreciate that. I just don't want to be a burden on her. "I need to go home. I really want to get started on these books," I admit. I also want to distract her so she won't worry about me going home.

"Are you serious about that?"

"Well, I'm at least going to read over the books." That part's the truth.

"You'll call me if you need me?"

"I'll call you on the hour, if it'll make you feel better."

She thinks for a minute as if considering that to be a good idea. "I have work tomorrow, just call if you need me." Before I can say anything, she adds, "Or, I could have Chase stay with you...."

"No, that won't be necessary. I'll call if I need you."

Skylar drops me off and waits for me to enter the house through the garage. Since my car is still at her house, we've arranged for her to pick me up tomorrow after work so I can get my car. If I need to leave before that, I'll call Mom, Dad, or Chase to pick me up.

I shower and make some hot tea before getting settled in the guest bed with my books, notebook, pen, and my laptop. I'm excited to start reading on what could possibly be the next adventure in my life. I use red pens, highlighters, and black markers and start highlighting and making a list of things I'll need. Am I really considering moving to a new area and opening a bed and breakfast with a tea room? Can I do this? Is it fair that I ask Skylar to give up her career to come along with me on this wild ride? What about my mom and dad? What about Chase? I like him. He's been a good friend. I don't want to leave them behind.

After researching Savannah, Georgia, I'm excited when I find some affordable prime properties. Savannah is a historical area with many Victorian homes that could be turned into a bed and breakfast. Luckily for me, Connor left me very well off. The house and the car are paid off, and the money from the life insurance policy is more than I'll ever need. I'm blessed in that sense. I've been bored with just sitting around home and racking my brain to remember things, anything. Sometimes, I think I'm trying too hard. Maybe if I focus on this, my brain can rest and my memory will return.

The more I research, the more excited I become about the possibility of becoming an innkeeper. I know I can't do this alone, and I know that Skylar may just be caught up in the moment or just saying she'll join me in this new adventure out of friendship. Finally, I stow everything beneath the bed and turn in for the night.

I dream of fighting and nosebleeds, I dream of stairs, broken bones, and pain, I dream of black eyes and sutures; I dream of a monster named Connor.

I wake from my dream afraid to move. I can't decide what's fact or fiction. Who can I ask if Connor abused me? I can't ask his parents without sounding like I'm accusing him of being a batterer. If I do ask, it'll be as if I'm assuming he was. Mom, Chase, and Skylar... they already said they don't know. They also said that I wasn't around much after my marriage. Is it because I was battered and broken, and couldn't be seen in public?

After spending the early morning researching more about Savannah, Georgia, I decide to call a Realtor and schedule some appointments to see some potential property for a bed and breakfast. I don't remember my past and I don't like the dreams, or the visions I've been having. It could be Connor was a great guy, but I have no idea. If he wasn't, then I'm better off without him.

I don't tell anyone about my plans to travel to Savannah this weekend. I can't ask them to join me or to help me in my decision to move ahead with my life. I also can't tell them my dreams haunt me and I need to get away, that I need to run far and fast away from my hometown.

On Thursday, I tell Mom and Skylar that I may have the flu, and I plan to stay in all weekend. Skylar tells me she's working twelve-hour shifts on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and Mom says that she and Dad have plans for Friday and Saturday night.

Planning to leave early on Friday morning, I pack what I think I'll need Thursday night for my trip to Savannah. Chase calls me and tells me he's pulling up to the house with food. Frantically, I change out of my jeans and sweatshirt, and into sleep pants, a T-shirt, and tie my hair into a messy bun. Skylar must have told him I was sick.

As I walk to the front door, I toss a pillow and throw blanket onto the couch to make it look like I've been lying around. I open the door and Chase is walking up the sidewalk, carrying a small sack. I'm glad it's not pizza. "Hey, what brings you over?"

"I heard you were sick, so I brought you some soup." He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. "You don't feel as though you have a fever," he adds.

"No fever, just a sore throat, headache, and an upset belly," I lie, shutting the front door.

"The way Sky talked, she thought maybe it was the flu."

That's because I told her I thought it was the flu. "I wonder where she got that idea from?"

"Hard to tell. Do you want some chicken noodle soup?"

I start to walk toward the kitchen and say, "Sure, thanks."

"Go lie down, and I'll warm up the soup for you."

I could warm up the soup, but I do what he says and go and lie on the couch. "Okay, thanks." I feel bad for lying about being sick, but what choice do I have? I have to keep up the charade.

Chase returns with two bowls of soup, crackers, and two bottles of water on a wooden serving tray. I'm sitting on the couch and prop my feet up so Chase can also sit on the couch with me. I watch as he sets the tray on the middle cushion. He doesn't say anything as he hands me my soup. After several minutes he says, "When did you start feeling ill?"

"Um, earlier today." I quickly take a bite of my soup to avoid having to say anything else. I don't want to lie to him. I can feel him watching me from the corner of his eyes. Why do I feel like he knows something? I cough and sniffle to add to the lie already in progress. He remains quiet.

He sets his empty bowl down and takes a drink from his water bottle. "So, what are your plans for tomorrow?" he finally asks.

"What's that old saying, 'Feed a cold and starve a fever'?" I set my empty soup bowl down. "It looks like I'll be feeding a cold, since I don't have a fever." I cough and sniffle again for good measure before taking a drink of my water.

"That's odd," he says, rubbing his hand over his five o'clock shadow.

"What is?"

"It's the strangest thing. When I walked past the guest room, the light was on, and it looked like you were packing to leave or something."

Shit. I wonder for a second if I can't blame it on the amnesia, too. No, I can't continue this lie. "I had another dream last night."

"Ava, are you remembering something?" He leans up from the couch and looks concerned.

Who knows? "I dreamed of blood, yelling, and broken bones."

"And you think that might be a memory?"

"I don't know what to think. I also had a dream where you hurt me, and I thought that was real. I have no idea what to believe."

"What does this have to do with the suitcase sitting on the bed in the spare guest room?"

I smooth the blanket over my lap and say, "I need to get away, Chase. I need to start over with a fresh start."

"Where are you going?"

"You know about my dream to own a bed and breakfast?"

"I may have heard something about it a time or two," he teases.

"Well, Mom thought Savannah, Georgia, would be a great location to open one up."

"That's not too far away."

"That's what she said. Anyway, I called a Realtor and I have an appointment for Saturday morning to see some potential properties."

"What time are you planning on leaving in the morning?"

"I was thinking about 8:00 a.m. I want to beat the rush-hour traffic on I-95."

He runs his hands up and down his jean-clad thighs. "Ava? Have you thought about who will help you run it? It'll be a lot of work for one person."

I tell him that Skylar mentioned she was interested in opening it up with me. I also tell him I don't feel comfortable asking her to give up on her career for something that may or may not work. If the bed and breakfast failed, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.

"I think she might be hurt if you don't ask her. Assuming the properties you look at are suitable and what you want. She's a big girl, and she's more than capable of deciding what to do with her future."

"You're right, she is. I'll think about it. Let me see if the properties are even worth considering. If they are, maybe I'll ask her to join me." He nods and I know he approves. I think it may even take more than two people to run it successfully. Maybe if we're organized enough, two people will be enough.

We say our goodbyes, and I finish packing before heading to bed.

The next morning, I shower and have coffee before leaving. I'm surprised when I back out of the driveway and Chase is pulling in. I look at the clock on the dashboard and it reads 7:58 a.m. I know Chase had plans to go fishing with his friends this weekend. Skylar was telling me it's an annual trip for them. Before I can put my car in park, Chase is exiting his truck. He knew I was leaving this morning, and I'm worried something may be wrong. I lower the car window and ask, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, it's fine. Park your car, you can ride with me." He opens my back car door and removes my luggage.

Confused by his statement, I ask, "Where are you going?"

"To Savannah. Hurry up," he says, closing the car door. "I don't want to be late."

"Savannah," I say but he's already walking back to his truck. Instead of pulling into the garage like he instructed, I get out and walk back to his vehicle. "What do you mean, I can ride with you? I thought you were going fishing?"

"I'm going with you. I can't let you drive to Savannah alone."

"What about your fishing trip?"

"It got canceled. Hurry up and park the car or we'll be late."

Chase

I watch as a confused Ava pulls into the garage and parks her car. I anticipated an argument when I got here, but I guess the element of surprise was on my side. She was too stunned to see me to argue with me.

I had a vacation day planned for today to do some grouper fishing with some friends from college, but when she told me her plans were to travel to Georgia by herself, I knew I couldn't let her go alone. I went home last night, called my buddies, and told them I had to cancel on the fishing trip. I hated to do that, but there are enough guys going, that I won't be missed... too much.

Ava walks to my truck with a smile on her face, and her purse slung over her shoulder. I'm glad to see that she isn't upset with my decision to go with her. I didn't want her to go to Savannah and make a rash decision, one she may regret later. With everything she's been through this year, she needs to be with a friend. I can offer her some legal and professional advice, and still keep an open mind.

"Ready?" I ask once she's seated in the passenger seat.

"Whenever you are," she says sweetly.

She doesn't question why I'm here, and she seems genuinely happy that I'm going with her. Maybe she's just happy that I'm doing the driving, so it's hard to tell. Once we are on I-10, she asks, "So, you didn't have anything better to do with your three-day weekend than to spend it with me in Georgia?"

Is this a trick question? I've had a crush on Ava since before she met Connor. I've never told anyone, but I couldn't hide my feeling from Skylar. She saw right through me. She knows how I feel and she swore to secrecy to never reveal my feelings to anyone, especially Ava. "No, I thought it was more important to see your dream come true," I say instead. We were friends for a long time before my crush actually started. Then when I was ready to reveal my feelings to her, she met Connor.

"Chase, thank you. That is so sweet. So, you don't think this is a mistake?"

I think for a brief second. "To chase your dream? Never. Unless your dream is to be invisible and fly by flapping your arms." I quickly look over at her before I continue. "I do think if you pursue this, you'll need help from a close friend or a family member."

"I've been thinking about what you said last night."

"About asking Skylar to join forces with you?"

"Yes. I'm going to ask her and if she says no, I have a backup plan."

"Look at you." I smile. "What's your backup plan?"

"I'm going to ask you to be my co-innkeeper."

I laugh loudly. "Me? An innkeeper? I don't think so. Ava, you may need another backup plan to your backup plan."

"I figured you'd decline my offer. I'll just hope that Skylar was serious about coming aboard. If not, Mom and Dad will help me."

"Did they say that?"

"No, but a girl can dream, can't I?"

We pull up at the bed and breakfast and Ava is excited. She notices the cute sign out front that reads, "Orange Blossom Inn." She comments on the large wrap-around porch, the white wooden rockers, the bistro tables, and the beautiful landscape. This place definitely has curb appeal.

I look more closely and notice the large slate roof that needs replaced, the sidewalk that needs repaired, and the old carriage house that looks like it may fall over with the next windstorm.

"Chase, look, this place is beautiful," she says with more excitement than I've seen from her in a very long time.

"Yep, it's something all right."

We park and get checked into the bed and breakfast. They were booked up for the weekend, but Ava insisted that she and I were friendly enough that we could share her room. She's right, we are friendly enough to share a room together as friends. I can share a room with a beautiful girl for the weekend. We're friends, right?

Once we get settled into the room and freshen up, I follow Ava downstairs as she begins her mission. She speaks with the husband-and-wife innkeepers, Steve and Lou Ann Mohler, and tells them her plans for opening a bed and breakfast on the other side of town. Instead of looking at Ava as competition, they offer to show us around and help her in any way they can.

Ava has a notebook and jots down ideas. She also has a list of questions she asks. We walk through the Victorian-style home, through the kitchen, and then the main living quarters where the owners live. Outside is a garden where there are lots of shade trees and sitting areas. I think this would be great for Ava, and for Skylar, but it may also be more than two people can handle. If the inn is open every day of the year, I don't see much time for a personal life for anyone who chooses to be in this business. I keep those reservations to myself. Ava doesn't need to hear my negative thoughts. This is her dream, and I'll support her anyway I can. I may bring it up later to her.

Once the tour of the inn is over, we drive around town and do a sneak peak of the properties she has listed to see tomorrow with a Realtor. There are four total and I can cross three of them off of her list without ever going into the houses. From a man's standpoint, there is just too much work for the price they're asking for the property. Unless the price is negotiable by a significant amount, it's a waste of time to even look at them. I don't say that, not today anyway. This is Ava's dream, and she should at least experience the entire thrill of becoming an independent business owner. I'll remain silent until she's about to make a big mistake, then I'll politely share my concerns with her. She's smart, and I have faith in her that she'll make the right decision.

After dinner the innkeepers, Lou Ann and Steve, offer us drinks and join us on a stroll around the property. We walk through the garden while Ava and Lou Ann enjoy a glass of Moscato and Steve and I have a glass of Rémy Martin. Luckily for me, the innkeepers have great taste in after-dinner drinks and they both took a liking to Ava. They tell us what brought them to Savannah and that they opened up the bed and breakfast after they retired. "We always loved the history of Savannah and thought it would be a great way to stay social and active. We do close down during the off season, and that's when we vacation and visit our family and friends.

"You run this business alone?" I ask.

Lou Ann says, "Oh, heavens, no. We thought we could at first, but we had to hire outside help. It's a lot of work for two people. The laundry, the cleaning, and not to mention the cooking, even if it is just breakfast."

Ava swirls the wine around in her glass. "I can imagine. This is an eight-bedroom inn, right?"

"It's seven bedrooms. It was actually a ten-bedroom house, but we had to add more bathrooms to turn the bedrooms into suites."

When Ava and I turn in for the night, I tell her I have a bad back and I need to sleep on a hard surface. That was a lie. I hate firm mattresses and I hate hard floors even more. This isn't a good time to tell her I have feelings for her, not with her having amnesia and all she's been through. She graciously helps me make a bed on the floor with the extra quilts we found in the closet. I watch as she climbs into the bed and sinks into the pillow-top mattress. Once Ava is situated in the queen-sized bed, I turn off the lights and climb into my makeshift bed on the floor. After thinking about sharing a room with Ava, I suggested calling local hotels to get me a room since the bed and breakfast didn't have any vacancies. Ava didn't want me to leave, so I didn't mention it again.

I don't sleep well and I wake up with a stiff neck and back. I'm grateful I have only one more night of sleeping on this hard floor. While Ava showers, I fold the blankets and place them back in the closet.

I lie at the foot of the bed and marvel at how wonderful the bed feels. I have almost dozed off when Ava tells me she's done in the bathroom. I shower while Ava does whatever girls do after they shower.

I take a longer than normal shower. I want to give her enough time to do what she needs to do. I'm pleasantly surprised and shocked to see her dressed and ready when I exit the bathroom. She has minimal makeup on, and her hair is still damp but braided down her back. She's wearing a pair of black yoga pants, a white hoodie, and a pair of tennis shoes. I knew Ava was naturally beautiful, but I didn't know she was naturally stunning.

"You take longer than I do to get ready," she teases.

"Sorry, unlike you, I have to work hard for my good looks." I smile and she giggles. "You ready?" I ask.

"I am."

We go downstairs and have breakfast with the other guests and the owners. I've never stayed at a bed and breakfast before, and it isn't what I expected at all. I think I was expecting a check-in desk and a restaurant-style dining room. Instead, there is one large table and everyone sits at it and the guests are served family style. The other guests are also surprised and pleasantly happy. The owners, Lou Ann and Steve, tell us that through the week, breakfast is served buffet style in the other dining room. But on the weekends, the guests seem to like the sit-down family-style meal. The coffee and the other drinks are set out on a beverage counter for easier access.

Once we're done, we leave to meet the Realtor at the first house. By the time we look at the last house, the Realtor, Ben Michaels, is joking and flirting with Ava. This is unprofessional and it pisses me off. I also don't like that Ava seems to be flirting back. Ava walks ahead as she looks through the house and he asks, "So, what's the story on your friend, is she single?"

"Who, Ava?" Who else would he be talking about? Of course it's Ava. I need to stall so I can come up with something.

"Yeah, she's hot."

"No, she's married and has kids," I lie. There, that should keep him away from her.
Chapter Four: Leap of Faith

Ava

"I thought he was interested in me the way he was flirting, then he turned cold and all business like."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too. I have no idea what got into him."

"Me, either. Maybe I had something in my teeth?" I ask, running my tongue over my teeth. He was the first guy I flirted with after Connor's death. Not that I would have dated him, but it was fun to flirt for the short time it lasted.

"It could have been the spinach and onion from the quiche you had earlier."

"No, please tell me I don't have spinach stuck in my teeth." I quickly reach into my purse and pull out a compact mirror. I'm relieved when there isn't anything stuck between them. Chase laughs and I swat his arm.

On the drive back to the bed and breakfast, Chase asks, "So, did you like one better than the other?"

I scrunch up my nose. "To be honest, I thought the first three were a bit run down. What did you think?"

"Some of them were in pretty bad shape."

"I'm afraid it would take more money than I want to spend on repairs just to get everything up to code."

"That's what happens when homes stay vacant for long periods of time."

"Well, maybe I need to look at another area. Mom won't be happy, but maybe I should look up in the New England states."

Chase looks from the road and looks me in the eyes. "You can't be serious. That's a two-days' drive from where you live now."

"Or a few hours on an airplane. Depends on how you look at it."

"It's still too far to move, no matter how you travel to get there."

"Maybe you're right. That last house wasn't too bad. It has some great features that I loved."

"It had a rough exterior, but cosmetic work will do wonders for a house, and it was priced to sell."

"Maybe we should have Skylar, Mom, and Dad look at it with us."

"That's a good idea. Take a day or two to think it over."

As we pull into the bed and breakfast, Steve and Lou Ann are sitting on the porch swing. "Have any luck?" Steve shouts from the porch.

Ava gets out of the truck and says, "We saw one that might be a possibility."

Lou Ann frowns. "We had to look at six houses, before we decided on this one."

Chase and I spend the rest of the evening with Lou Ann and Steve. Although we just met them, they are nice and down to earth. We learn a lot about them and Chase shares some things about us. We don't tell them about my amnesia or that I have no idea of the person I was prior to this year. I'm afraid that some people will judge me or look at me differently. I don't tell them I'm widowed. They assume that Chase and I are a couple, and I let them believe that.

Chase is kind and sweet, and he's everything I would expect from a man I would date. I could actually see myself with him, if I hadn't been married to his best friend. I'm not sure how Chase and I met, and I'm not sure how Connor and I met either. I've never asked and no one has ever told me. I do know I knew Chase longer than I knew Connor. If Chase was interested in me, then I'm sure I would have dated him and not Connor, since I knew Chase first. Certainly, I wouldn't have dated them both at different times in my life, would I?

My phone rings and I'm surprised to see it's from Dad. I stand and make my apologies. "Sorry, I have to take this." I walk off the porch before answering. "Hello, this is Ava."

"Hi, Ava. I'm at your house with dinner, but you're not here."

"No, I'm not home."

"I can see that." He chuckles nervously. "Will you be home anytime soon? I don't mind waiting for you."

"Um, no. I won't be home until tomorrow."

"I see. I should have called first." There's a noise in the background and I can't make it out. "Are you out of town?"

"I am. I'm in Savannah, Georgia."

"Oh, what are you doing there?"

"Chase and I are looking for a house."

"Wait. What did you say?"

I laugh. I know what I said and I know how it sounds. "Chase came with me to Savannah to look for a house for a bed and breakfast."

"If Claire and I had known, we would have come with you."

I tell him about my plans to go alone, then Chase showed up and came with me. "Is everything okay with you?"

"I was hoping maybe we could talk over dinner."

I would like nothing more than to talk with him. "Maybe we can have dinner tomorrow night?"

"I wish I could, Ava, but I have to work."

There's a pause and I try to hide my disappointment.

"Ava?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"I know I don't always show it, but I love you."

"What are you talking about? I've never doubted your love for me." Well, I wondered at first after coming out of the coma.

"That's good to hear. There's just been so much that happened since.... I just want you to know that you're my first and only priority." He sounds so sad. "I love you, kiddo."

I clear my throat and say, "I love you, too." Why would he bring dinner and what does he want to talk to me about?

"Have fun and don't buy anything until I see it."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Okay, be careful and we'll talk when you get home."

"Okay, bye."

That night, Chase sleeps on the floor again and we talk in the dark until the early morning hours. He tells me about his past relationships and he also tells me about the girl who got away. I feel bad for him and tell him I think he and Skylar would make a great couple. He coughs and sputters before getting up and getting a drink of water from the bathroom.

"So you don't like Skylar?" I ask when he returns from getting a drink.

"No, I love Skylar. She's like my sister."

Oh, I get it. "Say no more."

"Plus, I wouldn't date Skylar because I don't want to be the victim to one of her break-up schemes."

We both laugh as we talk about the past I can't remember.

The next morning, we say our goodbyes. Chase and I exchange phone numbers with Steve and Lou Ann before leaving. They say they'll keep an eye out in case they see or hear about something becoming available. This weekend we found one possible house for my bed and breakfast. One is definitely better than none. We also met new friends and that was a good thing.

On the way home, Chase and I decide that the last house we looked at was worth a second look. I also decide to ask Skylar to seriously consider joining me to be co-innkeepers together. I want to ask Chase to come, too. I know he won't, because he can't. He's some big-time attorney, and that is something he can't walk away from. What do I have to offer him? A job as a gardener, a handyman? That'll never do. He'd laugh in my face.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

Looking up at him, I smile. "Just my new adventure. Do you think Skylar would come with me?"

"I think Skylar would gladly go with you. She almost lost you once, and she wouldn't want to lose you a second time."

"Thank you." I think for a minute and say, "I'm worried it'll fail and then she might be upset with me because she'll be unemployed and in debt."

"She's a big girl, and I think with her and you being nurses, you'll both find employment quickly, if you ever need to."

I decide to go ahead and ask him. "What about you, would you come, too?"

He laughs. "I don't think I would make much of an innkeeper."

"You could open your own law firm."

He slowly looks over at me before focusing back on the road. "Ava, you want me to come with you to Savannah?"

"I'm being selfish, aren't I? I know I've known you for only a few months...." I stop and we both laugh. "Well, you know what I mean. I like you, and I don't want to leave you behind."

"Well, thank you. I like you, too." He smiles. "As you know, I can't just pack up and leave. I've worked very hard to get where I'm at in my current job."

"I know that. I'm sorry to put you on the spot like that."

"You're not putting me on the spot. I'm glad that you want me to be there with you. If you open a bed and breakfast close enough, none of us will need to relocate; therefore, not much will change for some of us."

"It's Skylar. Everything will change for her." I shift a little in the seat to face Chase. "I wish Florida was a great location for a bed and breakfast, but it's not. When tourists visit, they want to stay on the beach, or at a Disney resort, not a bed and breakfast."

"That's true, but Savannah is close enough, and it's a great location for what you're looking for."

"I guess we'll see what happens."

"If I were you, Ava, I would talk with Skylar to get her take on everything. I know she's interested in this new business adventure, but you may want to see how far she's willing to move, and how much she's able to spend."

"That's a good idea. I'll call her now to meet us at my house so we can talk to her."

"We?"

I smile. "Yes, I need an attorney for legal advice, and a friend for great advice."

Skylar

I had just gotten off work when Ava called, wanting to meet with me. I think she's forgotten what three twelve-hour shifts in a row do to a nurse. I went home and quickly showered before running over to her house to meet with her.

Chase's truck was just pulling into the garage when I arrived. I almost peed my pants as I watched him unload a suitcase from the backseat of his truck. I ask while getting out of the car, "Is there something you two want to tell me?" I nod at the suitcase in Chase's hands. Maybe he's finally revealed his feelings to Ava.

"There is," Ava says, walking into the house. "Chase, would you open some wine?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I need it after the weekend we had," she yells from the bedroom.

"Weekend?" Hell, here I thought it was just one night. Wine? Are they going to tell me they're a couple now? Is this a celebration? I whisper, "Chase, did you tell her?" He doesn't say anything but shakes his head. My eyes follow him as he walks over to the wine cooler on the kitchen counter where he chooses a bottle of white wine. Ava comes out wearing different clothes than she had on. "Then what's going on?"

"Just wait, she'll tell you in a minute." We each get a glass of wine, and sit in the family room where the seating is more comfortable. "Okay, you gotta tell me what's going on."

Ava sits on one end of the couch, and Chase sits on the other end. We all take a sip before Ava tells me about their trip to Savannah. I listen as she speaks with enthusiasm in her voice. "So, I guess what I want to know is, how serious you are in joining me?"

"We're talking about this seriously?" I ask.

"Yes, I'm serious and I'm ready. I could do this without you, but I'd rather do it with you."

I look over at Chase and he remains silent. He has his 'attorney face' on and I have no idea what he's thinking. I look at Ava and ask, "You can open a bed and breakfast without me?"

She laughs. "No, not at all, but I didn't want to add any pressure on you."

I smile and say, "No pressure here." Ava may not remember who she was prior to the accident, but she is a lot like the girl she used to be before she got married. I'm thrilled the amnesia or the accident didn't change that. I think for a brief moment and say, "But seriously, I guess it all depends on the location, and the amount of money it'll take." I don't say anything else.

"That's understandable. Chase and I looked at four houses in Savannah and one is a possibility for an inn. I love that area and I really hope to find something there. If not, the Carolinas would also be a good location."

"You aren't interested in moving to Massachusetts, Maine, or Rhode Island?" I ask.

"Those are all great places and I think the bed and breakfast would really excel there. But no, I don't want to move that far away."

"Ava, I want you to understand, I don't have as much money as you have. It would take my entire savings and I'd have to take out a loan. How much money would a house or a building like that cost?"

Chase speaks up and rattles off some numbers from the top of his head about a reasonable cost for a Victorian home. Of course, I know it depends on the city and state we make our purchase. Around Martha's Vineyard, there's no chance in hell that we could afford a cottage, much less a Victorian home. Ava suggests she could buy it, and I could make payments to her from the profits of the business. Assuming there are any profits. She isn't bragging about her finances; she's just letting me know there are other options for me. Chase says most of the work that needed done on the one house was cosmetic, and the foundation and structure were solid. Since the house was previously a bed and breakfast, we didn't need to add additional bathrooms to each of the bedrooms. We could do most of the painting and landscaping. I'm excited to see he's involved in this adventure, but I also know he may have an ulterior motive: Ava.

"Well, what do you think?" Ava asks excitedly.

I already know my answer. I don't need to think about it before I say, "I'm in."

"Really?" Ava squeals as she jumps up and hugs me. "You won't regret this, I swear."

"I know I won't." I have no reservations at all about this.

"Do you want me to call the Realtor so we can look at it again?" Chase asks.

"I'm off tomorrow and Tuesday. Is that too soon?" I ask.

"Give me a minute to make a phone call, and I'll let you know."

"I want Mom and Dad to look at it with us," Ava says, reaching for her cellphone.

Ava

Four months later Connor's mom and dad stop over unannounced and uninvited.

"Look, I don't know what the big deal is about me selling my house."

"Because it belonged to our son. Ava, you can't just sell it; it's part of Connor. There are so many memories here of you and him."

"Look, Brett and Nichole, I'm sorry." I want to say they're memories that I don't remember. I want to say the dreams I have about Connor aren't rainbows and butterflies. The dreams or memories I have of Connor are dark and morbid. "But I need to move on."

"Ava, Connor hasn't been dead a year yet. Don't you think you should have waited before selling this house and moving on?"

"Waited for what? Nothing will change. Even if my memory comes back, it doesn't change anything. I'm sorry, but Connor will still be dead." I see Dad coming down the street in his black Hummer. I didn't call him, but I sure am glad to see him. I understand Brett and Nichole are upset about Connor's death, and maybe me selling this house is another reminder of the loss of their son. I have no idea. I have no memories of Connor, but I do have nightmares. My most recent nightmare is of Connor pushing me down a flight of stairs in this very house.

"Ava, we know Connor's gone, but this was the last house he lived in before he died."

I don't say anything. I'm tired of talking. I watch as Dad gets out of his Hummer and walks over to us as we stand in the middle of the manicured lawn. He walks past the "Sold" sign that's posted in the yard.

"Brett," he nods. "Nichole, what's going on?"

"Marshall, couldn't you have talked some sense into your daughter before she sold her and Connor's home?"

I watch Brett as he talks to Dad.

"Ava, go into the house," Dad demands.

I look at Dad and he isn't looking at me. He's watching Brett and Nichole.

He tells me, "I'll be right in. Go ahead and finish packing or we'll be late."

He's right, we'll be late for my move if I don't hurry. I say my goodbyes even though no one replies. Once I'm in the house, I look out the window and watch the interaction between the three of them.

It looks like a heated argument, and I have no idea why he told me to go inside. Maybe he thinks I'm still his little girl and he wants to protect me.

Skylar and I bought the Victorian house in Savannah. Chase, Mom, and Dad went with Skylar and me to look at it, and Skylar fell in love with it right away. I'm so thankful she was able to see the beauty through the rough exterior. Hardwood floors, oak mantel fireplaces, cast iron claw foot bathtubs, wainscoting on most of the walls, large picture windows, and a wrap-around porch. Dad and Chase painted the house while Skylar, Mom, and I started to do some landscaping but eventually hired a professional landscaper. We could have planted flowers and a few bushes, but we wanted more than we could have done. The corner lot of the house was actually big enough we could add a butterfly garden, a rose garden, and a cobblestone walking path.

When Dad walks towards the house, I meet him at the door. "You won't have any more problems with them."

I close the doors after he enters the house. "What did you say to them?"

"I told them if they're upset the house sold, then they should have bought it."

I wish I had thought of that. "What did they say?"

"They left, didn't they?"

"I feel bad for them...."

"Don't, Ava. It'll be okay. I told them you needed to move on, and this was the best move for you. I think they understood. They're still in mourning and aren't thinking rationally."

"I know they're sad over the loss of their son." I feel guilty that I haven't mourned Connor. I'm sure when my memory returns, if my memory ever returns, I'll also mourn him. "I can't imagine what they're going through."

"Me, either. It was touch and go for you, and I prayed every day God would spare your life."

"You did?" Over the past four months, Dad, Mom, and I have slowly been getting closer. Because I lost my memory, they're taking their time for me to get to know them, and I appreciate that. It was hard at first, but I can feel the love they have for me.

"I love you, Ava, and I'm working to improve our relationship to be where it was before your marriage."

Before my marriage? What the hell happened to all of my relationships during my marriage? I have dreams or should I say nightmares of beatings and fights with Connor, but I never dream of my family and friends. I never dream of love and support. "I love you, too, Dad."

"Are you ready?"

"I have a few things upstairs, and then I'll be ready." I look around the near-empty house. Skylar and I thought it was a good idea to take all of the bedroom suites with us to the bed and breakfast. They are like new and good quality, plus we needed them to keep the cost down. I kept a few things of Connor's and gave everything else to his mom and dad because I knew they would want them. I'm not sure what they'll do with all of his clothing. I put the rest of the stuff in storage, and I'll go through it at a later time.

Dad and Mom drive together, while Chase, Skylar, and I ride separately in three cars packed with stuff to Savannah. It feels like the drive took twice as long as it really was.

We don't open for another couple of weeks. June 1st, to be exact. We need to get moved in and do a trial run to make sure we know what we're doing. Lou Ann and Steve have been helping us tremendously. We talk to them a few times a week. It seems I have more questions than I realized I would have.

Once we pull into the bed and breakfast, I have never been so grateful for the moving company. The bedroom suites and some of the other items we brought with us have already been delivered and set up in the proper rooms. Now we just need to unload the cars and trucks, make the beds, and go to the grocery store. Well, that's not all we have to do, but that's what we'll do first.

The hardest part is unloading the vehicles. It seems that I've been planning on opening a tea room for some time now. Before my amnesia, I'd been buying tea sets and serving dishes and putting them away. I had no idea, but when Mom and I went into the spare bedroom to sort through my stuff, we found boxes and boxes of vintage and new glassware. Mom said she had forgotten I had some things, and she didn't know about the other items.

Once everything is unloaded and brought into the house, we all get to work. The painting, repairs, and cleaning are already done, and now it's time to turn this Victorian house into a bed and breakfast. The kitchen is huge and beautiful, and it's bright and spacious. It's everything you want in a room you'll spend many hours a day in. Of course for a house of this size, you would need a big kitchen.

The more we do, the more excited Skylar and I are. Chase and Dad left, they said they're going to check out some fishing spots. There isn't anything left for them to do here. They can't make beds, and I don't want them anywhere near our kitchen cabinets.

Mom, Skylar, and I laugh a lot as we wash the dishes and put everything away.

"I can't recall ever seeing you this happy, Ava."

I look at Mom with a smile spread across my lips. "Thank you. I am happy. I just feel like this is something that I'm meant to do." I look over at Skylar and say, "That we're meant to do together. I can't imagine following my dreams with anyone else."

She walks over and hugs me. "I can't imagine doing this with anyone but you," she says.

Mom thinks for a minute and says, "You know, I'm secretly living vicariously through you girls."

She looks sad, almost like she wishes she were doing this with us. I make a mental note to include her and ask her advice often. Even if I don't need it. "Mom, you can come up and stay anytime you want."

"That's right, Claire. We have plenty of room, and you are always welcome."

"Thank you, but I'll be fine. This is a great opportunity for you girls. I just hope you enjoy the ride to your success."

"You really think we'll be successful?" I ask, not sure if we will be or not. I hope we will be, but I also know there is a possibility that we could fail. If we do fail, it won't be from a lack of trying.

Skylar and I watch Mom as she looks around the vast white kitchen. She exhales and smiles. "This house, the spacious kitchen, and your everlasting friendship — it's all a recipe for success. There's no way it can't be successful."

Skylar and I hug Mom and tell her how much we appreciate her support. When the last box is unpacked and everything is put away, we start to make the beds. We don't separate into different rooms, we all work in the same room together. We laugh a lot and decide each room needs to be a theme. I had originally thought the bed and breakfast should be called Rose Garden Inn, but Skylar has a better idea. She thinks it should have a coastal feel and name since it is so close to the water. I think it's a wonderful idea, but then Skylar starts to joke about possible names we could use. "Rip Tide Inn," "Tidal Wave Inn," or "Rip Current Inn." Although these are great names if you want to be reminded of death by drowning, they aren't great names for a bed and breakfast. Suddenly, the coastal-themed bed and breakfast doesn't seem like such a great idea. We're trying to bring in guests, not frighten them away. So, we decide on "The Rose Garden Inn" for the inn's name and "Rose Petals" for the tea room.

Chase and Dad come home with food and wooden rockers. It's an odd combination, but we are grateful for both. Skylar and I both had decided on wooden rockers and porch swings for the large wrap-around porch, and some bistro tables and benches around the garden, and beneath the large mossy oak trees.

After dinner Chase and Dad set the new rockers out while Mom, Skylar, and I shop for a few things online. We need a commercial coffee pot — one made for restaurants — and pots and pans. Once we make our purchases, we all sit outside and enjoy the cool evening.

I make a list of groceries we'll need for the bed and breakfast. I guess I am a list person after all. Skylar doesn't need a list; she just buys what she wants or what she thinks we'll need. We also go through the recipes and try to plan our menu. Lou Ann and Steve pull in and I'm happy to see them. They brought a homemade walnut cream vanilla cake, and Mom makes coffee to go with it.

"The house looks great. We almost didn't recognize it," Steve says.

"Thank you."

"Are you getting reservations?"

Skylar says, "We have a few, nothing too exciting."

"As word spreads, you'll get more. What about your menu? How's that coming along for you?"

Skylar and I laugh. "Well... we know to serve fresh homemade foods and desserts, but if you cook and bake everyday, when do you have time for anything else?"

Mom says, "Is that what has you puzzled?"

"Yes. We've gone through all of these books and everything's homemade."

Skylar says, "Time management is a big concern for us. Eventually, I want to date, or go out, or something." She laughs. "I didn't want to turn into Miss Crocker so soon in my young life."

"I want time to date, too," I say, laughing.

Mom and Lou Ann look at each other and Lou Ann says, "Well, you might be in luck."

"I'm listening," I say, sitting up a little straighter.

"The secret is you bake once a week, but you do need to provide a hot fresh breakfast daily."

Chase and Dad laugh and it makes everyone laugh. "So, you don't slave away covered in flour everyday all day over the hot oven?"

Lou Ann doesn't laugh but she smiles and says, "I don't, but it may be something you chose to do."

We have a leisurely visit before Mom, Dad, and Chase leave to return home, but Steve and Lou Ann stay a little longer. "You know, I was thinking, if you girls want to start baking this weekend, maybe we could do it all together. I have two ovens over at our place; we can do it there."

"That's a great idea and then we'll have a stock pile before we even open for business," I say.

"We may need another deep freeze; one might not be enough." Skylar scrunches her nose as if she's thinking.

We make plans to meet up Sunday after church for a bake off and then Steve and Lou Ann leave.

Chase

It's been months since Ava's accident and since Marshall banned Skylar and me from visiting her at the hospital. It's also been a few months since I saw Marshall with Lorraine at work, and in the restaurant with her little boy.

I haven't seen Marshall since then until today. It's none of my business what he does in his spare time; I just don't want Ava to get hurt as a result.

When he put Skylar and me on the do-not-visit list at the hospital, I was pissed. Later, Skylar and I decided maybe it was his way of protecting his daughter. Once Ava got released and we were able to build a relationship with her, those days in the hospital didn't seem as important as they once did. What was important is that we got our Ava back and she was getting better everyday.

While we were in the car to get food and rocking chairs for the inn, Marshall opened up and told me his fears about what happened to Ava during her marriage to Connor. He tells me things that I already suspected and he said banning Skylar and me from the hospital was his only way of protecting Ava. If those things really happened to Ava, I don't blame him. I knew it had to be something.

He also confides in me why he was meeting Lorraine at the restaurant that evening I saw them. It wasn't the reason I was thinking and Connor wasn't the man I once thought he was. Obviously, I was a fool.

Skylar

Ava and I walk around this huge house that suddenly feels too big with everyone gone. We walk through each bedroom, and I notice how much they remind me of Ava and Connor's house. Same bedroom suites, same bedding. "Let's go shopping."

"For what? I guess we need to get some groceries."

"For bedding and some new lamps."

"Skylar, we can't afford those things. In case you haven't noticed, we just bought a house."

"Yes, we can. Let's at least go and look at some new bedding. This stuff reminds me of...."

"Connor." Ava says.

"Yes, of Connor."

"I was afraid of that. But I know we can't afford to shop at Dillard's or Macy's. Not since we just spent money on the house."

"Dillard's? Girl, I'm talking about shopping at Target." I giggle. "Bedding at Target is very affordable and it's good quality. I've never been able to afford Dillard's." I laugh.

"Does Target really sell good quality bedding?"

I'm reminded once again that Ava truly cannot remember her past. She used to love Target. "C'mon, let's go and just look around. We don't have to buy anything, unless we absolutely fall in love with it."

Once inside Target, Ava acts like a kid at Christmas. I guess she didn't know about their shabby chic collection. We start off with one cart, but soon we have filled three. We also add a fourth cart for groceries.

We spend most of the night washing and changing out the bedding, one room at a time. The rooms are coming along and it's beginning to look more comfortable and inviting. Connor had great taste, but it was more formal, industrial, and modern. A bed and breakfast should offer a soft and inviting feel, something that says, "Come and stay for awhile. Lie down, I'm soft and comfortable."

The main living quarters in the house is set up like a small two-bedroom apartment. It'll be perfect for Ava and me, but if one of us wants to entertain a guy for the night, this setup won't work for either of us. The walls are thin, and someone will be hearing what the other one is doing. God knows, I don't want to hear the sex noises that Ava makes on any given night, and I sure as hell don't want her hearing mine.

"We did it. We took a leap of faith, and this is where it got us."

I look at Ava and she looks happy and content. "I'm glad we did, and I couldn't be happier."

"Really? You're not just saying that, are you?"

"No, not at all. I'm thrilled to be here, and I'm more thrilled to have you back in my life."

Over the next few days, we schedule food deliveries from commercial food vendors. We talk more extensively to Lou Ann about menu items. I guess I'm not the only one concerned about the food we'll serve. Ava and I are great cooks, but for some reason, this frightens me. It's just breakfast, so how hard can it be?

On Sunday, we take some dessert and breakfast casserole cookbooks over to Lou Ann's. We also take some ingredients, baking dishes, freezer bags, and a mixer with us. This is an exciting day and we are both happy.

We park in the back of Lou Ann and Steve's bed and breakfast and use the back entrance into the kitchen. It takes several trips for us to haul everything inside. I laugh to myself when I see how they have everything set up. Her entire kitchen is set up in stations. It looks like there is a sweet station, a bread station, and a breakfast station. Boy, do we have a lot to learn. They have a KitchenAid mixer in each station. A total of three KitchenAid mixers. I laugh when I think of the handheld mixer that Ava and I brought with us to use. Being an innkeeper is a lot harder than I thought.

We have coffee as they explain everything to us. Like us, they learned through trial and error. They aren't the third or fourth generation of innkeepers in their family. They are the first generation and it took a lot of errors before they mastered the art of success. Ava listens as she takes notes of everything Lou Ann says. I wonder if it wouldn't be easier for Ava to just use a recorder instead.

"Do you have aprons and hairnets?" Lou Ann asks.

"Um, no. Do we need them?" I look at Ava and she shrugs her shoulders.

"You do, and you'll be glad you wore them. Nothing like ruining a batch of cookies because there's a hair in the dough."

I make a face at the thought of hair being in the cookie dough. "We need hairnets and aprons," I say.

"Now," Ava agrees.

"Here, we have extra."

Once we're ready, we all get to work. We make muffins, biscuits, French toast, pancakes, cookies, scones, and macaroons. Although we are in the same business as Lou Ann and Steve, ours will be somewhat different. While their kitchen closes after breakfast until the next day, ours will reopen from 1:00 to 3:00 for an afternoon tea. We've already decided that we aren't going to have a menu to order from; it's not lunch. We'll just have light sandwiches, scones or macaroons, and puffed pastries with a choice of favorite teas. It'll be a different set up from a full-service tea house. It'll be a tea room with a twist.

By the end of the day, we are a floury mess, but it was the best day ever. We help with the clean up and head home.

As the week goes on, reservations come in and the rooms get booked up. Deliveries are coming in, and the stress and excitement are building. We sit outside and someone parks their car and walks up to the front porch. He is extremely good looking, and I remember him as being the Realtor who sold us the house.

Ava stands up and smiles. "Hi, Ben, how are you?"

"I'm good. Just wanted to stop over and see how everything's going."

"It's going very well. Ben Michaels, do you remember Skylar?"

"I do, it's nice seeing you again."

"Likewise."

He looks around and says, "This place looks amazing."

"Thanks. It looks a little different from when you first showed it to us," Ava says.

I watch as he stands at the bottom of the stairs. "Care to join us for a drink?"

He looks at me and then to Ava, as if he's unsure.

"Please, you should join us, unless you have someplace...."

"No, no. I have no other plans."

He walks up onto the porch and I stand. "Red or white?" I ask, holding up my wine glass.

"Whatever you're having is fine, thank you."

We finish off the bottle of wine before he asks Ava, "So, your husband and children aren't here with you?"

Now the conversation's getting interesting.

"Excuse me? Husband and children?"

He looks confused. "Yes, your friend, Chase, told me you were married with children." What is Chase up to? I sit back and watch the show. It's a bold move, even for Chase.

"Are you sure you heard him right?"

"Yes, I was thinking about asking you out and I asked him if you were single. That's when he told me you were married with children. Not just one child, he said you have several."

I spit my wine out from shock, and no one seems to notice. I think Ava's in shock, too.

"That's odd." Ava thinks for a moment and says, "I'm not married, and I don't have any children."

Once this is cleared up, he finally asks Ava out and she accepts. Things are moving along for Ava and maybe this will be a new start for her. Well, at least until Chase shows up and puts a stop to it. I know Chase likes Ava and I also know that he's liked her for a long time. It's not my place to tell her about his feelings. I've always secretly hoped those two would be together. Maybe he just needs a slight push or a gentle shove in the right direction. I'm not above doing that for a friend.

Ava

I walk Ben to his car, and we make plans to have dinner Saturday night. Now, I understand why he stopped flirting with me before. I thought it was odd that we got along so well and then suddenly he just backed away from me. I know it was Chase, but why would Chase say I was married with kids? I don't understand it. Maybe he's just looking out for me; maybe he's just giving me time to find myself, before I find someone else.

I watch as Ben leaves before returning to join Skylar on the front porch. "Why would Chase tell someone I was married with kids?"

She stands, and we walk into the house. "I have no idea. Are you going to ask him?"

"Should I?"

"If you want answers, you should. How else will you know his reasoning? Maybe he likes you, and he doesn't want you seeing anyone."

"I doubt that. He was the best man at my wedding. I doubt he would have those feelings, especially since he was such good friends with Connor."

We say good night, and I turn into bed. I toss and turn thinking about Chase, Ben, and Connor. My thoughts are a jumbled mess of confusion. I can't make sense of anything. I was married to Connor and yet I can't remember him, and therefore I have no feelings for him. Chase is a dear friend and although I can't remember him, I can feel we had a closeness. As for Ben, I like him and he makes me laugh.

"Ava, you look stunning. Are you ready to celebrate your birthday with our friends?"

"Thank you. I am."

We have dinner and dance. I'm surrounded with flashing lights, friends, and our family. I slow dance with Chase, and I feel safe. There's a cake with birthday candles and gifts. There's laughter and shouting. Why is there shouting at my birthday party? There's drinking and hitting, and then there's pushing.

"I told you I don't want you around him."

"God, Connor. Chase is our friend. There's nothing for you to be jealous of."

"Ava! Don't make me tell you again. Stay away from him!"

Why was Connor so jealous of Chase? Is this when I learned to fake my happiness? Is this when I first learned that marrying Connor was a mistake? I drink champagne although I don't feel like celebrating. I smile and pretend I am having a great time. Deep down inside, I've already decided I'm going to ask Connor for a divorce. He isn't the man I thought he was, and this isn't what I want for my life. Sitting at a table alone, I watch as Connor also pretends to be in marital bliss. He laughs and smiles as he makes his way around the room.

We both are quiet on the drive home from the party. I plan to tell Connor I want a divorce, but not today; not while we're alone. I need to have someone with me, but why? Why can't I remember?

Once we are on the top of the stairs, he stops. "I saw the way he was looking at you."

"Who?"

"Chase, I saw the way he was looking at you. I don't like it."

"Jesus, Connor. If it's not one thing, it's another. Chase was not looking at me in any way."

"Ava, I mean it! You stay away from him, and Skylar, too, for that matter."

"No, I won't. You can't tell...."

He slaps me across the face. "I can tell you and I do tell you that I want you to stay away from them." I grab my face — it burns from my salty tears. He's never hit me before. I expect an apology from him, thinking that maybe, hoping that maybe, it was an accident.

"Maybe you need a permanent reminder of why you shouldn't disobey me."

And without another word, he pushes me down the flight of stairs. I remember crying, pain, and tears. I remember a deformed right arm and a gash on the back of my head. I also remember sutures, a cast, and weeks of therapy, but I don't remember an apology.

The next morning I lie in bed awake. I smell coffee, and I hear Skylar in the kitchen. I look at my arm and make a fist. Did I break my arm? Did Connor push me from the top stairs of our home? I use a handheld mirror and look in the full-sized mirror for a scar to the back of my head. I see a scar! My dreams are not just dreams. They're memories.

Finally, I dry my tears and walk out to talk to Skylar.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she says without looking at me. "I thought you were going to sleep the day away."

I pour a cup of coffee and sit across from her at the breakfast bar.

She looks over the newspaper, and her smile disappears. "What's wrong?" She sets the newspaper down on the counter.

My hands shake so I set my coffee cup down on the counter. "I think Connor abused me!"

Skylar sits up straighter. "Ava, are you sure?"

"I have a scar. Let me back up. Last night I had a dream that he pushed me down a flight of stairs. In my dream I broke my arm and I had a gash on the back of my head." She doesn't say anything. Skylar looks shocked at hearing my words. I've never told anyone about my dreams of Connor before. "I have these dreams more and more frequently. Sometimes they're vivid and sometimes they're vague. Anyway, I woke up and I have a scar in the exact same place as in my dream."

"Ava, I don't know what to say." She looks sad. "I hope that's only a dream. Like I said, I didn't see you much after your wedding."

"In my dream, it was my birthday party and I danced with Chase; Connor was furious."

"You remember your birthday party?"

"Just what I dreamed about it. You were there in my dream. Did I dance with Chase and was Connor mad?"

"The party was shortly after your wedding. It was probably the last time I saw you. If I remember correctly, you did dance with Chase, but I didn't notice Connor having an attitude about it."

"I think he hid his anger from others. The sad thing is, I have no idea if these are memories or if I'm just making this stuff up." I pause before adding, "I feel like I'm going crazy. Maybe he was this really nice guy, and I'm turning him into a monster."

"You did break your arm in the car accident, could the dream be part of a memory?"

"I broke my left arm in the accident, in my dream it was my right arm that I broke."

I wait before she says anything. "Let's call your doctor and see if he knows anything about it."

"I think he would have told me if he knew."

"Maybe he can x-ray your arm and see if it's ever been broken."

"Good idea, I never thought of that. I'll call him Monday."

"Ava, if Connor ever hurt you, I swear that I didn't know anything about it. I would have stopped him. I would have done something to help you. Chase and all of us would have done something."

"I know you would. If he did hurt me, I'm not sure why I would have stayed. Why wouldn't I have gotten help, or gone someplace safe?"

"I don't know, I wish I knew."

I said I would wait until Monday to call Doctor Adams, but I couldn't wait. I ended up calling him later in the day. As always he listened to my concerns. "I have your X-rays from when you were in the hospital, I can look those over and see if you've had previous broken bones. Can you come in on Tuesday so we can discuss my findings?"

"Sure, I'll be there."

On Tuesday, Skylar and I meet Doctor Adams at his office. I'm shocked when I see Chase walk into the waiting room. I look over at Skylar because I know she told him that we would be here. Skylar ignores my look as she smiles at Chase. I sign in and we take a seat. Chase and Skylar begin talking about the bed and breakfast. He doesn't ask me about my dreams, or memories, or whatever they are. He just acts like this is a luncheon date, and I'm fine with that. The less I talk about it, the better.

I sit and fidget until the nurse calls my name; we all stand.

I tell Skylar and Chase, "I'd like to go in alone, if that's okay?"

If it were just Skylar and me, it would be fine for her to go in with me, but since Chase is here, I'd like to go in alone. I'm not sure what the doctor will say, and I'm not sure how I'll handle the news.

"Sure, that's fine. We'll be right here waiting for you when you're done," Chase says as he nods.

"Are you sure, Ava?" Skylar asks.

I smile to let her know I'm fine. "I'm positive. I'll be out as soon as I can."

They both sit down, and I follow the nurse through the single door separating the waiting room from the treatment rooms. Instead of the doctor using my old X-rays, he tells me he'd feel better taking some himself. After a couple of hours, X-rays, scans, and testing, I get the dreaded answers I've been waiting for, plus some I didn't expect. Although I already had a suspicion, the truth is still disturbing to hear.

"Ava, I'm going to recommend you seeing a counselor. I have a friend who lives in the Savannah, Georgia area, so you won't need to make the drive back here."

"Okay, I'll call him tomorrow to set up an appointment."

"Ava, if you have any other dreams or memories, call me."

"I will. After what you confirmed today, I'm sure the nightmares will be coming more and more frequently."

"That may be, or you may remember everything all at once."

I try to smile but a tear falls instead. "Great. That should be fun," I say sarcastically. I stand and pull my purse over my right shoulder.

"You call me if that happens." He stands and fastens his white lab coat. "I'll see you next month, if not before."

After the appointment, Skylar, Chase, and I meet Mom and Dad for lunch. On the drive to the restaurant, I let everything sink in that the doctor just confirmed. I didn't tell Chase or Skylar what the doctor said; I don't want to repeat everything — saying it once is more than enough.

Mom and Dad are already sitting at a table when we arrive. They look sad and somber as they stand as we approach the round five-top table. After the pleasantries are over and we order our lunch, Dad wastes no time in asking what Doctor Adams said. "So, are the dreams a memory?"

I take a deep breath, and look past him at the large oil painting on the white wall behind him. "There's evidence to suggest they are." I hear Mom and Skylar gasp, and curse words from Chase and Dad.

Dad speaks first. "That son of a bitch. I swear if he wasn't dead, I would kill him with my bare hands."

Mom speaks more rationally. "Doctor Adams determined that your right arm has been previously broken?"

"He did, but there's more." My mind races with everything I learned today. Tears fill my eyes and for the first time, things are actually sinking in. "Connor didn't just hit me, he beat me." I lick my tongue over my front teeth before adding. "I've also had several cracked ribs, and my front teeth aren't real; they're dental implants." My lips quiver and I stand to run to the restroom.

Skylar

I watch as Ava runs to the restroom. I want to run after her, but my legs refuse to move. My mind replays her words over and over in my head. What did that monster do to her? How could she have endured such beatings and I didn't know? She never reached out for help. She never came to me once in the two years she was married to ask me to help her. Did she fear for her life? Is that why she never came to me for help? I sit there and watch as Chase and Marshall run after her. I want to go, but I can't. Guilt runs through my body. I've let Ava down. She needed me and I wasn't there for her. I honestly had no idea what Connor was capable of. I had no idea he was hurting her. I hear sniffles and look up at Claire. Claire? She had no idea of the nightmare her daughter was living. She didn't know about Ava's injuries either.

I stand and move over to sit beside Claire. I hug her and we both cry. It's selfish. I should be comforting Ava. I don't know how I can ever face her again. I was her best friend and I let this happen to her. I should have known something was wrong when she stopped calling or answering my calls. Deep down I suppose I did know, but I just had no idea about the severity of it. I had no idea he was capable of harming her; I just thought maybe he was controlling and was jealous of our friendship. At times I also thought she was happy and just wanted Connor in her life. Married people are like that, right? They only need each other and not their old single friends.

"Stay here, I'm going to check on Ava." I stand and see that Chase is walking Ava back to the table. I stare at Ava as I sit back down. Her eyes are red and puffy. Marshall isn't with them.

When they both sit, I say, "I'm sorry, Ava. I should have done something."

Ava stares at me with tear-stained eyes. "No, don't. This isn't your fault, just like it's not Mom's fault, or Chase's fault, or Dad's fault. Connor is the only one responsible for this. I don't want anyone here blaming themselves for what's happened." Claire sniffles and Ava hugs her. "I'm fine. It was a bit of a shocker to hear about my injuries from the X-rays Doctor Adams performed, but I'm fine."

"Are you, really?" Mom asks.

"I am. I promise."

The waitress comes and sets the food on the table. Chase says, "Can we get his food to go, please? He had someplace he needed to be."

"Marshall's not coming back?" Claire asks.

"No, he asked me to take you home after lunch. He said he had someplace he needed to go."

"I wonder if he went back to work." I remember he said he wanted to kill Connor. I doubt he went back to work. I hope he didn't go to Connor's mom and dad's house. On second thought, I hope he did. I want to know if they knew their son was a wife beater.

During lunch, Ava talks about happier times. She talks about the bed and breakfast, and she talks about a new book she's been reading. "Jami Alexander writes the best romance books I have ever read."

"I've never heard of her before," Claire says.

"I found her online. She had a free book so I downloaded it. I loved it so much, I ordered all of her other books in paperback."

"I'll have to read one." Claire lifts her glass of water. "I'm always looking for a good book to read, although I usually like more of a suspense book."

"Her books aren't just romance. They're romance with a twist of real-life issues and problems people like us face. You should pre-order her next book. It's called Lost in Savannah, Georgia."

Claire smiles and I know it's Ava's way to take her mind off of the beatings that Ava endured at the hands of her husband, Connor. "I'll do that as soon as I get home."

After lunch, and only after Claire knows that Ava is all right, we leave to go home.

Marshall

I've had about all one father can take. How could I have been so stupid? Ava and I have always been close. When she started cancelling dinner and lunch dates with her mother and me, I should have known something was wrong. She always sounded fine on the phone, and Connor was so nice and attentive to Ava when we were around. I speed to Brett and Nichole's house. If anyone knew that Connor was harming Ava, they would. They would have to know what their son was capable of.

I see Nichole's car in the garage as I storm to the front door. I clench my fist as I ring the doorbell. Someone is taking ownership of Connor's actions today. I suspected a lot of things about Connor, but not once did I suspect he was capable of hurting Ava. Well, not physically anyway. The day I cleared out Connor's office with Brett after Connor's death is when things became clear to me. I had no idea, and it started me on my crusade to learn everything I can about Connor while trying to protect Ava.

When no one answers, I ring the doorbell again, and I pound my fist on the door. I yell, "I know you're home, I'm not leaving until we talk."

"Hello, yes, I'm home. How can I help you?" Nichole speaks quietly from the other side of the closed door.

"We need to talk, now," I yell.

"I'm sorry, Marshall. I just waxed the floors, and I can't open the door right now."

"Then let me in through the garage." I turn to leave and she says, "I can't."

"Then let me in through the back. I need to talk to you about your son."

"Marshall, I can't. I've waxed the floors and they're wet," she whispers. "It'll take an hour or more until they're dry enough to walk on."

"Fine, I'll go to Brett's work, then."

I turn to leave and the door creeks open slightly. "No, don't bother Brett."

Turning around, I don't see her standing there, but the door is slightly open. I need to get my composure, but I'm too pissed to think rationally. "Did you know your son was beating my daughter during their marriage?"

She opens the door further and peeks around it. She stands there with bright red blood on her face, her nose is actively bleeding, and her left eye is already bruising. Her normally neatly brushed hair is in disarray, and tears are streaming down her bloodied face. Splattered blood is on her white blouse.

"Nichole, what in the hell...."

"Marshall, you need to leave." She wipes her bloody nose with the back of her hand.

Several things run through my mind and I don't like any of them. Did Brett do this to her? Is this what Connor did to my Ava? Was Ava beaten this badly at the hands of a man who was supposed to have loved her? Did I hand my daughter over to a monster who was capable of harming her this badly? I walk into Nichole's house uninvited and close the door tightly behind me.

"Is he here?" I begin to search the downstairs rooms of the house. "Brett, get your ass out here."

"Marshall, he's not here," she says in a near whisper.

I turn to look at her and she cowers. I freeze. I would never hurt her. Is she so frightened that she believes I would hurt her, too? "Let's get you cleaned up, then we'll get you some help."

"Marshall," she says as she walks into the kitchen. "You need to leave. He won't like finding you here when he returns." She runs cold water over a dishtowel and holds it to her bleeding nose. I watch as she holds it with shaky hands.

My mind flashes with visions of Ava in this same condition. I want to run and hold my Ava tightly and protect her from this ever happening to her again, and at the same time, I want to dig Connor's body up, and kill him all over again.

"Nichole, we need to get you some help. Please, come with me. You don't need to stay here with him."

"Marshall, please. You don't understand."

She's right. I don't understand. "You can stay with Claire and me. I can take you to a hotel, or anywhere you want. You're better than this."

"Am I?"
Chapter Five: Four Months Later

Ava

It's been four months since I was forced to face the truth about my life with Connor. It hasn't been easy, and it's even more confusing for me to understand why I would have stayed in a relationship like that. The person I am today would never have stayed in a violent relationship. But maybe that isn't true. Maybe the person I am today is like the person I was before I married Conner. Have I changed? I don't know. Life is too short and it can end at any time. I know leaving isn't always easy. Money can definitely make it seem impossible to leave, but now some cities and towns have safe houses for women who have suffered domestic violence. Fortunately, money wasn't an issue for me, so why did I stay? Often, we think in terms of fight or flight, but there is a third reaction: freeze. Sometimes, in emergency situations we simply shut down and can't react.

I'm thankful I haven't had any more dreams or memories. I can only hope that the past will stay in the past and I can move on to a better future. I would like nothing more than to forget the past. So far, so good.

I still have no memory of the person I was before the accident, and I'm fine with that, too. I'm my own person and I like the person I am becoming. I'm confident, independent, and happy. Having a man in my life would be good, but being forever single doesn't scare me. Being forever single doesn't necessarily mean being forever lonely. I have friends and family who love me, so what more do I need?

Skylar and I are a great pair. We work well together, and we share the same dream: to be successful and to have a great time doing it. We don't need to be rich, but we do need to be happy.

I dated Ben Michaels briefly before breaking it off with him. He just wasn't my type. Actually, I didn't have to break it off with him. It seems that if you just mention the word "marriage," or obliquely refer to marriage, some guys really do get scared and leave on their own accord. It was almost comical how Skylar took care of the problem for me. I owe her for this one even if it was an accident on her part. She bought a few old wedding veils and dresses at a thrift store that we planned to make ghosts out of for Halloween. Ben was here and saw them lying on the table. He left abruptly and it was the last time we saw him.

The rooms at the bed and breakfast are staying booked up. We have only one or two vacancies on any given weekday night and seldom have vacancies on the weekend. Skylar and I do what Lou Ann suggested. We bake and cook on Sunday, and that helps us have some downtime through the week to do what we want to do.

Today, Skylar is out running errands and I'm running the tea room. We decided to have the tea room set up as a help-yourself mini-buffet. It's easier for us and the guests seem to enjoy it. The bell over the door chimes, alerting me that someone is coming or leaving. I see a tall attractive man standing at the doorway, so I walk over to greet him.

"Hi, may I help you?"

He's wearing a pair of white pants, a sky blue linen shirt, and a pair of tan Sperrys. He looks like he just stepped off of a boat.

"Hi, hope so." I watch as he looks around the open foyer. "Is it always this quiet here?"

I can hear women softly talking and laughing, and teacups clanking. "It's our tea time so it's a little noisier than usual."

He smiles, "Perfect. My name's Xander Jamison and I'm looking to rent a room for a couple weeks, maybe even a month. Do you have something available?"

I notice his perfectly white smile. "Hi, I'm Ava Emerson. A room for two, I think we can accommodate that."

"A room for one," he corrects.

Oh, that's even better. I immediately look at his ring finger and there isn't a ring on it. He's single, and he's tall. Things are looking up. "Let me make sure we have a room for the next two weeks."

"If you have something for a month, I'll take it."

"Would you like to see one of our rooms before committing to stay that long?"

"No, thank you. That won't be necessary. I just need a clean room, some quiet, and access to wifi."

"We can accommodate all of those requests. Are you on vacation?" I ask, not thinking. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that. It's none of my business why you're here. I just usually don't get a request for a room rental longer than a few days at a time."

He laughs. "It's okay. I'm on a working vacation, you could say. I came here for a few days, but I thought I would stay longer. It seems like such a quaint town with a lot of history."

"It is. I haven't been here long, but I do love the area." I look into the tea room. "If you want to help yourself to some tea and crumpets, I'll check availability and get your bill made up for you."

"Tea and crumpets, huh?"

I laugh. "Don't knock it until you try it."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be...," he stops and looks at the sign over the room and finishes, "... in the Rose Petals Tea Room if you need me."

"Okay, sounds good. I won't be long." I turn to leave and when I figure up the bill, I go back into the tea room.

Standing in the doorway, I see the tall, handsome Xander Jamison sitting at the window seat looking out into the rose garden. He has only a dainty teacup sitting in front of him. Apparently, he doesn't like the food we serve during tea time: cucumber sandwiches and crumpets. I laugh to myself. I don't get many masculine men having tea in my tea room. I turn around and walk into the kitchen to make him something more suitable to eat and drink.

When I walk back into the tea room, it's empty of the other patrons. He's looking around the room and smiles when he sees me walking towards him. He stands as I approach his table. I'm taken aback by his politeness. I can't recall a time a man stood for me when I approached them. "Please sit down. I brought you something more suitable for lunch." I set the plate of food down and he continues to stand. He's now looking at the chicken salad sandwich, carrots and celery sticks, and the fresh fruit plate.

"I didn't know what you wanted to drink." I look at the bottle of Corona with lime, a mug of hot coffee, and the glass of milk still on the tray.

"Wow, you shouldn't have."

"I noticed you didn't like the tea, or the crumpets." I look down at the broken teacup.

He follows my eyes then picks up the teacup and the broken handle. "Sorry, my finger didn't fit into the tiny handle."

I look at him and we both bust out laughing. "I can see that. I'll have to remember to order no-handle teacups for the men from now on."

"Men don't really have tea in here, do they?"

I clear my throat and say, "The smart married men do. You ever hear the saying, 'Happy wife, happy life'? Drinking tea out of dainty teacups is a small thing that husbands can do to make their wives happy."

He laughs loudly, baring an all-tooth smile. "I have heard that a time or two, and I'll have to remember that. Still, these dainty teacups are easy to break. I once broke two expensive china teacups at my aunt's house because the handles were too small."

"Good thing these teacups aren't all that expensive." I look at the tray of drinks. "Which one of these drinks would you like?"

He searches the tray of beverages. "Would you think badly of me if I chose the beer this time of day?"

I want to laugh when I think of my glass of wine sitting on the kitchen counter. "No, not at all."

"Ava, would you join me for lunch?"

I look around the empty tea room. I have a few tables to clean up, but I can do that later. "Sure, let me get my lunch from the kitchen."

"Good, I hate to eat alone."

"Me, too, I'll be right back." When I return from the kitchen, Xander is still sitting there; his food is untouched. He stands as I approach his table with my plate of food and glass of white wine. We talk about the history of Savannah and we also talk about the bed and breakfast. He said he usually stays in hotels when he travels, but he thought he would try something different this time. I learn that he travels around the United States, and he works from home on his computer, or wherever he's staying for the night. Home is where you lay your head, right?

When Skylar returns from running errands, Xander and I are still sitting at the table talking.

"Hi, am I interrupting?" she asks.

"No, not at all." Xander stands and reaches his hand out for Skylar's.

"Skylar, this is Xander Jamison. He'll be staying with us for the next few weeks."

Her eyes sparkle, and I swear I can see dollar signs in them. "Hi, nice to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine."

She looks at him before she looks at me. "I have groceries to carry in, and I'll clean up in here while you two finish your lunch."

"We're done. I'll help you with the groceries."

"I can also help," Xander says, still standing.

Now I stand. "No, finish your beer, we can get everything. I can't have our guests working and helping out. Thank you, anyway."

"Are you sure?" He picks up his beer and downs what's left in the bottle. "I'm finished here."

Skylar and I laugh.

"Well, in that case, we could use the extra hand," Skylar says.

I pick up my plate and he also picks up his plate and follows us through the door leading us to the huge kitchen. We set the dishes in the sink and go out the back door to Skylar's car. He takes the heavier items and leaves the lighter items for Skylar and me to carry. Once everything is brought in, I show him his bill and he pays for the entire month. I then show him his room and hand him the room key. "Breakfast is served buffet style from seven to nine, and tea is served from one to three. Guests are welcome to use the seating areas in the house, the tea room, and the seating areas in the gardens and front porch anytime."

"Is the extra key for the front door?"

"It is. I always forget about the extra key, but yes, it's for both locks."

"Do you and Skylar live on the grounds?"

"We do. We actually live in the house, so if there's any problems we'll be right here."

"Very good. Thank you, Miss Ava. I certainly appreciate your hospitality."

"You're more than welcome, Xander. If you need anything, Skylar and I spend a lot of time in the kitchen or on the front porch."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Skylar

Later that night I ask, "Who in the hell is that hunk of beefcake?"

"Shut up." Ava laughs.

I also laugh. "All jokes aside, where the hell did he come from?"

"He walked in looking for a room for the month."

"Is his girlfriend or wife staying here with him?"

"Nope, single occupancy."

"Why is someone who looks that good, looking for a room by himself for that long?"

"I don't know, and I didn't ask."

"Did you happen to notice he's not wearing a ring?" Before she can say anything, I say, "Of course you did. You two had lunch together."

"Just because he isn't wearing a ring doesn't make him single," she says. "He was hungry and he didn't like the tea or crumpets we served in the tea room."

I'm teasing Ava because I love the smile of her face and she is so easy to joke with. "Since when do we have a full-service kitchen... and a bar?" I try to keep a straight face, but I can't hold it any longer. I laugh and say, "He is totally into you."

"Stop it. He was hungry and he needed a room. I was just able to provide both for him. He was nice, and he booked a room from us for an entire month."

This is huge and it was good business on Ava's part. Keep the customers happy and they'll return. "Good job, but he was still into you. I don't care what you say."

Ava smiles and stands from the couch. "Good night, Skylar. Five o'clock comes pretty early in the morning." She reaches down and picks up her book, Moving to New York, written by her new favorite author, Jami Alexander.

I also stand. "Yes, it does. See ya in the morning."

In the morning we do our normal routine. We both shower and start the day with fresh hair and makeup. I'm not a morning person, and I never have been, but I do feel better when I am dressed and ready for the day earlier rather than later.

Once we're dressed and ready, we turn the lights on in the house, and start preparing the coffee and breakfast for our guests. Usually the guests' doors are closed tightly, but the room Ava issued to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome has an open door with his lights on. An early riser, just like Ava. I smile to myself and tend to filling the carafes of regular and decaffeinated coffee.

Just as the food is being placed on the table, our guests start to shuffle from their rooms into the formal dining room. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome is leading the pack. He smiles when he sees me, but he smiles brightly when he sees Ava.

Ava and I usually eat with the guests so we can recommend points of interest for them to visit in and around Savannah. Ava and I aren't from the area, but we did a lot of research and rode many of the tour trolleys to learn about Savannah. The chafing dishes on the buffet ensure the food stays hot all through breakfast, and they allow Ava and me time to enjoy a meal with our guests. She and I sit at opposite ends of the 12-person dining room table. This way we can speak with everyone, and not just a few people sitting on one end of the rectangular table within hearing distance. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome sits nearest Ava. Of course he does.

One couple plans to visit the twenty-two historical squares that are located in Savannah. We recommend they take the trolley to the furthest square and work their way back. When Ava and I first opened the bed and breakfast, we noticed that many people would plan to explore the beautiful parks and the squares that Savannah is known for. That's when we decided to offer picnic lunches at an additional fee for our guests. These lunches were a great idea and the picnic baskets range in size and price. While some people want something plain and simple, others want something fancier with imported wines and cheese. To each his own and we aim to please everyone.

Another couple plans to attend Mass at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist.

Someone else has scheduled a ghost tour. Because Savannah is the oldest city in Georgia, it's filled with stories of ghost hauntings and sightings. Ava and I share the story of when we repainted this old bed and breakfast when we first bought it.

"Ava and I both believe in ghosts, so when we repainted this old bed and breakfast, we left the outside colors the same. A white house with bluish-green shutters. It's believed that the not-blue and not-green shutters help to keep the spirits out. Not wanting to take a chance if it works or not, we left the colors as they were originally painted. Oddly, the local independently owned store where we purchased the paint knew exactly the color of paint we needed. The name of the color is 'Haint Blue.'"

That story gets many laughs everytime we tell it. People think we made it up, but it's the God's honest truth. In Savannah, "Haint Blue" is a real name for a paint color.

After breakfast, everyone leaves to begin exploring the beautiful city and to begin their day doing whatever it is they have planned. Xander, however, takes his laptop and sits on the porch swing on the wrap-around porch. Ava and I clean up while the two girls we hired start cleaning the guests' rooms.

Just before noon, we're able to sit outside in the rose garden and have a glass of sweet tea before we set up the tea room. Ava and I have a busy morning, but after the tea ends at three, the rest of the day is down time for the both of us.

"What are your plans for later?" I ask.

"I'm hoping to finish reading my book."

"Are you still reading the books written by Jami Alexander?"

"I am, I love all of her books. I tried to search for her biography using Google, but nothing comes up. It's just a list of the books she's written. Nothing is mentioned of where she was born and raised, nothing. Even her author photo is of her books, nothing personal is listed at all."

"Um, Ava. You kind of sound a little stalkerish." I laugh.

She pauses and takes a sip of her iced tea. "I'm just always interested in the authors of the books I read. I want to know something about the person who is capable of writing such enticing and gripping novels."

I think for a minute and laugh. "What if it's a guy and he's using an alias?"

"Why would someone do that?"

"I'm not so sure I would read a romance book written by a male. I think it would be ingenious for a male to do that. Romance books written by a male would be a little different from those written by a female. He certainly would have a different perspective of things."

"Wouldn't he just use his sister's photo, if he has a sister, and make up a fake biography?"

"Hi, am I interrupting?"

We both look up and Xander is removing his sunglasses. He's standing there dressed in a white linen shirt and jeans. His hair is unruly, and his five o'clock shadow makes him look older than he is.

"No, not at all." Ava smiles.

"I was heading out to get something to eat and wondered if I could bring you both something back for lunch?"

"It all depends on where you're going," I say, half teasing and half serious. Ava laughs although she looks embarrassed.

"I was heading out to Carla Jo Dean's restaurant. According to this pamphlet, it's one of the better places to eat."

"And that pamphlet would be correct. Ava and I love the crab cakes and the dessert minis they have there."

Ava stands, holding her book, and says, "You should have the buffet for lunch; that way you can get a variety of everything. She really is a great cook."

"Thank you, I will. Can I bring you both something back?"

"Nothing for me, but thank you," Ava says.

I also stand. "Nothing for me either, but thank you. We usually eat something here during the tea hours. Don't want to stay for tea and crumpets?" I tease.

He laughs and says, "Not until you get teacups to fit man-sized hands." I'm not sure what he's talking about.

Ava says, "He accidentally broke the handle from a teacup yesterday."

I remember seeing some superglue lying beside a teacup in the kitchen last night. "Happens all the time," I lie.

Ava interrupts and says, "We need to set up for the tea, but I hope you enjoy your lunch."

"Thank you. I'll see you two later on today."

Xander leaves and Ava and I set everything out for the tea. We have more people than normal and we restock the tea and food as needed. The tea room is soon becoming quite popular amongst the locals. Who doesn't enjoy a flavored tea and something sweet in a beautiful rose décor room? One older woman once suggested we offer hats, feathered boas, and gloves to add to the tea experience. Ava and I haven't done that yet, but if we ever go to an auction where these are available, I'm sure we'll buy them and offer them for the ladies.

When everything is cleaned up, I leave during down time and go to my new favorite spot: Tybee Beach Pier and Pavilion. It's located 15 miles east of Savannah, right on the Atlantic Ocean. Ava usually doesn't want to leave, so she stays and oversees the bed and breakfast. I love Savannah and plan to see everything I can.

Chase calls me on the drive over to the beach. "How's Ava doing?" he asks.

"I'm good, how are you?"

"I'm sorry, Skylar. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine and it's okay. Ava's doing well. You should call and talk to her."

"I tried, but it went to voicemail. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay there with everyone."

"I'm heading to the beach, and Ava was at the house when I left. She said she wanted to get some reading done." I turn onto South Campbell and say, "You should come and visit for the weekend. The more I sightsee, the more I love it here."

"I need to do that, maybe next weekend."

"Okay, sounds good. I'll tell Ava you called."

"Have fun and don't forget the sunscreen."

"It's already been applied. See ya."

Xander Jamison

Once I'm in my car, I make the dreaded phone call to my business manager and friend, Wesley.

"Where in the hell have you been?"

"Calm down. I told you I was getting away for awhile."

"And I told you I advised you not to."

"Relax, I feel fine. I think the fresh air and the time away are doing me good. I feel great."

"Where are you?"

"Why, so you can come and get me? Not gonna happen."

"Look, I know you're running away from the truth, and no matter how far you run, you can't ignore what has already been confirmed."

"Is that what you think? That I'm running away?" Am I running away? "If it is, then you've never been more wrong." I look out the car window for a parking space near the city market. The long line outside of Carla Jo Dean's restaurant tells me I may need to park down at the River Walk.

"Isn't the news the reason why you left?"

No. I left so I could get some work done, and figure everything out. "I'll be back shortly. I gotta go."

"Dammit, Xander. Don't you dare hang up on...."

"I'll call you again later. See ya." I hang up before he can get another word in. I really felt bad about leaving the way I did, but I had to. I didn't have any other choice. I couldn't listen to another word, and I have a deadline I need to make. People won't be happy with me if I don't perform, and God knows I needed to get away; I needed time to think, and to let the most recent news sink in.

I call Mom next. She won't approve of my decision to leave, but she'll understand it. I hope.

"Xander, are you all right?"

"Yes, Mother, I'm fine."

"You know I hate when you call me that. It's so impersonal."

"Sorry, Mom. How are you?"

"I'm fine, but that's not the important question. The important question is how are you?"

"I feel fine."

"Good, now that you've sorted things out, it's time for you to come home. We have things to discuss."

"Mom, I'm not ready. I need more time to think." She sighs. She's not happy with me.

"Where are you?"

"Mom, please. I'll be home soon. I just need to think."

"Xander, I didn't ask you that. I said, where are you?"

I can never lie to my mother. "I'm in Savannah."

"Where in Savannah?"

"I'm staying at the Rose Garden Inn. Please don't show up. I'm fine and I'll be home as soon as I sort everything out."

"Xander, don't be silly. I have far more important things to do than to chase my adult son around Georgia. I know you'll be home when you're ready. But please, don't wait too long."

"I won't, Mom. Thank you for understanding."

"I don't know if I understand, but I'll give you some space. I love you, and call me if anything happens."

"Thank you, and I love you, too."

"And you'll call me if something changes?" I can hear the worry in her voice.

"I will. I'll call you first."

"You can call me second. You know who to call first," Mom says.

How can I forget? "Okay, I'll call you second. I love you and I'll talk to you later."

I park at River Walk and do a little sightseeing before having lunch. The cobblestone roads and the quaint shops make it an enjoyable walk up to the City Market where Carla Jo Dean's restaurant is located. I think about the news I received before I left. Am I running away? Am I using work as an excuse to not deal with my real problems? I think about Ava and think that if nothing good comes from this trip, I at least met an incredible woman. At first I debate whether the line going into the restaurant is too long, but seeing that the line is diminishing quickly, I decide maybe the wait won't be as bad as I think.

Ava

Having finished reading of Jami Alexander's romances, I have been reading David Bruce's William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet: A Retelling in Prose. It's the classic play retold in modern English, with all of Shakespeare's bawdy jokes clearly rendered. As I read, I think that if parents realized how bawdy Shakespeare's jokes are, they would march with pitchforks and torches to the school library and demand that the book be taken off the library shelves.

While I sit out in the garden reading, and sipping on fresh squeezed lemonade, Xander appears with three bags. I set my book down and say, "Hey, I see you made it back."

"That I did. You failed to mention that reservations might be a good idea. May I sit here?" He looks at the empty cast-iron chair across from me.

"Yes, please, sit down. Reservations? It's a weekday, so why would you need reservations?"

He smiles, looking younger than he really is. "I don't know, it may have something to do with Carla Jo Dean and her sisters' monthly book signing."

I cringe. "Sorry, I forgot about that. She and her sisters do have a book signing there once a month."

"It's okay." He sets two bags down on the small iron bistro table and set the other one on the ground beside him. "The food was definitely worth the wait."

"The food is pretty good, isn't it?"

"It sure is. I picked something up for you and Skylar while I was there." He hands me a bag, but his face is blank and serious.

"Thank you," I say cautiously because his expression doesn't reveal enthusiasm or excitement.

"The line starting from inside the restaurant leading outside to the sidewalk for the autographs told me her books were worth having. The food line was much shorter with seating inside, but the food was also definitely worth having."

An uncontrolled smile forms across my face as I remove two of Carla Jo Dean's cookbooks from the bag. I open one and see that it's signed to Skylar. I close it and open the other one. It reads:

Ava,

Your friend is quite persistent. I hope you enjoy the cookbook. I am intrigued and plan to visit your quaint tea room at the Rose Garden Inn.

Yours truly, Carla Jo xo

"Oh! My! God! Thank you!" I stand up and Xander also stands. I think he may be frightened at my excitement. I try hard to keep it under control, but it's difficult to do. I hug him and thank him again for such an awesome gift.

"It's nothing, Ava, but you're very welcome."

I sit down and read the inscription again. "What does she mean that my friend is very persistent?"

"Well, I didn't know it at the time, but apparently, they issue only three hundred wristbands at nine a.m., and you need a wristband to attend the two-hour-long book signing that begins at noon."

"That's true, they do. And you didn't leave here until after eleven." He smiles and it makes me laugh. "What did you do? How did you manage to get these books?"

"I guess it's frowned upon to try to purchase wristbands from women once they have already been distributed by Carla Jo Dean's staff and security."

"No, you didn't!"

"I did. I guess I don't have enough money to purchase free wristbands. I also learned that women are serious about their cookbooks and about Carla Jo Dean."

"They didn't throw you out of the restaurant or the book signing, did they?"

"They wanted to."

"I'm sure they did, what stopped them?"

"It seems Carla Jo has a soft spot for a crying man."

"Stop it. You weren't crying, were you?"

He looks at me and his eyes look like blue crystals. "No, I wasn't." He licks his lips and I can't help but watch. "She had sympathy on me and let me have two books. Her sisters were already gone by this time, so I was able to get only her signature on each of the books for you and Skylar."

"That's an amazing story. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

"Skylar and I always wanted to go there for the book signing, but with the hours we work here, we've never been able to make it."

"It worked out perfectly then. I was in the neighborhood, and she had some extra books on hand."

"Thank you. I think this is the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me." I have no memory so this is definitely the nicest thing that I can remember.

His smile fades. "If this is true, that's very sad." I remain silent. "Oh, I got you and Skylar something else." Opening the other bag he reveals two to-go containers. "Crab cakes and dessert minis."

"A man after my own heart. You didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to. After you making me lunch yesterday, and me repaying you by breaking your porcelain teacup, it's the least I could do. Truce?"

No truce is needed, but I say, "Truce. Thank you again. Do you want to join me for some crab cakes and dessert?"

"I couldn't eat another bite, but thanks. I have work to do and I best get busy since I blew the first half of the day wandering the beautiful streets of Savannah." He stands with his gift bag and walks away.

"Have fun," I tease. I don't eat the food right away; instead, I wait for Skylar to come so we can eat it together. Reservations are steady and things are coming together for Skylar and for me. I think I have finally come to terms with the possibility that I may never get my memory back. I have no idea of the person I once was, but I like the person I am now. I think that's all that matters. Still, it would be nice to recover all my memories from before I met Connor.

Mom and Chase call, and they both want to come for a visit this weekend. Mom said that Dad is busy so she'll ride over with Chase if we have rooms available. I'll always have a room for Chase and my mother. Skylar said she was going home this weekend to see her mom and brother. Mom and Chase can stay in the living quarters with me while she's gone. Opening the bed and breakfast was my idea, and I don't expect Skylar to give up her life to fulfill my dream, although I know she would and she would never complain about it.

On Sunday, right after breakfast, Mom, Chase, and I gather in the kitchen to prepare food for the week. Mom helps, while Chase watches. It's a relaxed and fun time for all of us. Well, at least I think it's fun for Chase. He samples the food and laughs a lot. Mom looks out the window and asks about the guy who is sitting under the oak moss tree. I look over her shoulder and see that Xander is on his computer working.

"That's Xander Jamison."

Chase stands and also looks out the window. "What kind of work does he do?"

"Computer work. I'm not sure exactly what he does."

"He's very good looking," Mom says.

Yes, he is. "I haven't noticed," I lie.

Chase looks down at me and I ignore him. I walk back over to the oven to check the mini quiches that are in the oven. "What brings him to a bed and breakfast?" Mom asks.

"I have no idea. He paid for the room for four weeks with a credit card, and that's all I cared about." I do like him, and I like his company, but Mom and Chase don't need to know that.

"Have you talked to him?" Mom asks.

"A little. He usually spends his time in the garden or on the porch swing out front."

"Let's invite him in. Maybe we can get to know him more. You know, see if he's married, stuff like that," Mom says.

Before I can say anything, she's out the door and walking in the direction of Xander. I watch out the window as he stands to greet her. Always a gentleman. They talk briefly before he closes up his computer and follows behind her towards the door. I quickly remove my apron and tighten my ponytail. I want to ask Chase how I look, but I don't. I don't want him to know that I care about my appearance now that Xander is coming in. Xander hasn't met Mom or Chase yet. He didn't join us for breakfast yesterday or today. Maybe he sleeps in on the weekends or something. He comes into the kitchen after Mom and immediately smiles when he sees me.

"So, I see you've met my mother."

"She invited me in. I hope that's okay?"

He looks uneasy and I wonder if Mom didn't pressure him into joining us.

"It's fine. This is what we do every Sunday, but usually it's just me and Skylar." I look over at Chase. "This is a close friend, Chase Murphy. Chase, this is Xander Jamison."

They shake hands and I offer him a seat, while Mom removes the quiches from the oven. "Xander, we were going to try these quiches. Would you like one? Ava got this new recipe book with so many delicious recipes for us to try." Xander looks at the counter and smiles when he sees the Carla Jo Dean cookbook he got for me. He doesn't say where the cookbook came from, and I wouldn't expect him to.

"I would love to sample Ava's cooking, thank you."

I get the coffee and Mom places the mini quiches on four plates for us, along with a cinnamon roll, and some of the French toast casserole we made for the upcoming week. We sit around the informal butcher block table and eat. It's not as uncomfortable as I thought it might be.

"Ava, you're quite the cook."

"Thank you, Xander. I can't take the credit, it's Carla Jo Dean's recipes." We both smile and it's our own little secret.

Chase talks to Xander, asking him where he's from and what he does for a living. I've never asked him any of those questions. I wanted to, but I was worried that maybe I was prying. He rents a room and what would it be like if I started to ask him personal questions? Awkward, that's how it would feel. He never asked much about me either, not personally anyway.

Chase and Mom leave and Skylar returns from her weekend away. "It's hard work going home for the weekend." I hold open the screen door for Skylar as she lugs her luggage up the porch steps. Lugs her luggage. I guess that's how "luggage" got its name.

Skylar's dad passed away when she was young and it was just her, her brother, and her mother. "Your mom had some things for you to do while you were there?"

"Just a few things. You know, paint the bedroom and wash the baseboards. Nothing too big." She laughs. Skylar would do anything for her mother, even spend her weekend painting. "Do you know how much I hate washing baseboards?" she asks as if I don't know.

"I know how much you hated painting them when we moved here."

"Don't remind me. I hate painting and I hate cleaning."

I laugh. "Don't we all. It's not my favorite pastime either."

Later in the week during tea time, Xander pops his head into the kitchen. "Hey, I hope you're not busy."

"No, not at all. C'mon in." I'm standing at the refrigerator with the door wide open.

"He comes in and looks around the open space. "I was heading out to get some lunch, thought I might see if you and Skylar wanted me to bring you something back."

I close the refrigerator door, holding all the ingredients I need to make a sandwich. "Skylar's out for the afternoon, and I'm working the tea room. I was going to have a sandwich, but thanks for asking. I appreciate that."

"No problem. I thought I would ask. See ya in a bit." He turns to leave.

"Xander?"

He turns around and smiles. "Change your mind?"

"I have more than enough food, if you want to eat here with me."

He looks at the all of the food I'm placing on the kitchen counter. "Are you sure? I don't want to put you out or anything."

I reach for the fresh Italian roll on the counter behind me. "Yeah, pretty sure I have more than enough food for the two of us."

"Ava, if you're sure. I was heading out...."

"Don't be silly. There's almost always enough food here to feed more than a few people. Grab a knife from the drawer; you can help me cut up the fresh vegetables."

Xander cuts the tomatoes far better than I would have. His slices are thin, firm, and evenly sliced.

"Onions?" I ask.

"Sure."

"Good, you can cut those up, too." We both laugh. I like onions, but I don't like cutting them. They make me cry and my nose runs. It's a sight to see for sure. While he does that, I cut up the cheese, lettuce, and bread.

I check on the guests in the tea room before joining Xander back in the kitchen. He pours us both a glass of sweet tea and then we set our plates on the bistro table outside in the garden. "I hope this is okay? Seems like too beautiful of a day to waste it eating inside."

"This is perfect. I love eating outside."

In between bites, we talk briefly about his hometown of the Outer Banks, North Carolina, and about my hometown of Lake City, Florida. I've never been to the Outer Banks and I'm not surprised when he tells me he's never heard of Lake City. It's a small town in north Florida. Unless you live there, you have no idea where it is.

"You don't sound country enough to come from a rural area. Especially a rural area from the South."

"I was born and raised there, but my parents are from Ohio. They met when my dad was in the service and that's where they made their home when he was discharged."

"I'll have to put Lake City on my bucket list of one of the places to visit before I kick the bucket."

I was going to say something but I laugh instead. He said it so seriously that I thought he was serious at first. Maybe he is serious. When the laughter stops, I asked, "So what kind of business do you do?" I hope this isn't too personal. I don't know him and it looks like we may be spending a little time together in the next month.

"Graphic design, mostly. Thinking about starting up a blog."

"Oh, that sounds interesting. What will you write about on your blog?"

"Books, health and wellness, vacation spots like Lake City, Florida."

I smile with my mouth closed, and I try hard not to laugh or show my teeth since I just took a huge bite of my food. After I swallow, I say, "I'm almost positive that if you visited Lake City, you would not call it a vacation spot. It's a great place and I love it there, but people drive through there to get to their vacation destination. Now, the Outer Banks, that's a place to vacation."

"It is," he says. "It's beautiful there with lots to do."

He tells me about growing up there and how relaxing it is. I learn he loves to fish, and to just spend time outside.

After lunch, he offers to stay and help me clean up. When I insist I have everything under control, he takes his computer outside to the garden. When the afternoon tea is done and cleaned up, I sit on the porch swing and read.

The next morning, our day starts off as it always does. A delicious meal with our guests and polite conversation. Being an innkeeper is truly a wonderful job. I feel like I'm living vicariously through our guests. I can offer site-seeing spots for our guests to visit, and hear about their experience when they return. I'm also learning about some fishing spots for the men to visit while their wives shop. It's not always easy trying to please everyone, but Skylar and I are doing our best.

A couple around 60 who have been staying with us are having their last breakfast before leaving today, and I can't help but notice that they are amazing in how they treat each other. They are genuinely in love, they engage in real conversations about many topics, they make jokes that only they understand — it turns out that an EAR-DO is their name for what happens when a pet dog has one or both floppy ears flopped across its head — and they joke about things lots of people understand. It's clear that they love each other, but it's also clear that they have lots of interest in things other than just each other. This is a couple who can talk about more than work and family and television.

As the couple is getting ready to leave, Xander mentions how great they are, and how refreshing it is to see a couple getting along so well. He says, "I have known many men who complain about being married and losing their freedom; those men say that they would love to be single again. They complain that they work hard on their marriages and that being married is a lot more work than play. They complain that they have to work so hard on being married that they have no time to do anything other than that and work to make money."

The woman asks him, "Are you married?"

Xander clears his throat before answering. "No. Never been lucky enough to find the right woman."

"Well, do you know the expression, 'Happy wife, happy life?'"

"I may have heard it a time or two."

"Always remember this: That saying is nothing but what I call CUB: Complete Utter Bullshit."

We all start laughing. That is not what I expected her to say.

The woman continues, "No one should give up their life in order to 'work' on their marriage. Of course, I'm not talking about small compromises.

"The saying is backwards. It should be, 'Happy life, happy wife.' A woman — and I know because I am a woman — falls in love with a man because she loves the kind of man he is. He is a man with passions and interests. A woman decides to marry the man because she loves the man he is then. People change, and their passions and interests change, but if a man changes after marriage into someone who thinks that he has to ignore all his passions and interests just so he can work on his marriage, he is going to stop being the man the woman fell in love with."

Oh, that makes a lot of sense.

She continues, "And if the man is unhappy, how can he show her anything but unhappiness? The saying should be 'Happy life, happy wife,' my friend.

"The same thing applies to the woman. A man falls in love with a woman because he loves the kind of woman she is. She is a woman with passions and interests. She needs to have passions and interests, or she will stop being the woman he fell in love with. So another saying should be 'Happy life, happy husband,' my friend.

"But best of all would be this: 'Happy lives, happy couple.'

"Marriages need time for play, and not just in the bedroom."

Her husband nods; he is in total agreement.

I look around the table and everyone is listening to the woman. As the couple leaves, the other guests give them an ovation.

Xander was the first person to come down for breakfast this morning, and he stays the longest, drinking his coffee and enjoying and engaging in polite conversation. When the last person leaves, he says, "Ava, may I ask what are your plans this evening?"

Plans? I never have any plans since someone has to be here around the clock. "After the tea, I was going to try to get some reading done. Maybe sit outside under the moss tree."

"Would you like to go sailing with me later?"

"Sailing? As in a boat?"

He laughs. "Yes, that's the only kind of sailing I know."

"You have a boat?" I ask.

"I do have a boat, but it's not here. I've been renting one over by Tybee beach. I was hoping maybe we could have dinner on the boat, watch the dolphins, and maybe stay for the sunset."

"She would love to. What time should she be ready?" Skylar asks.

"Is five p.m. a good time?" He's looking at me although he's answering Skylar.

"Perfect, she'll be ready."

I sit there with my mouth closed, not saying a word, but listening to Skylar and Xander making plans for me. A date with Xander. I think I like this idea, so why am I not saying anything? When I find my voice I ask, "Should I pack us a picnic dinner?"

I can feel all eyes are on me. "No, just bring yourself, and maybe a sweater. It can get chilly pretty quickly on the water."

"Okay, then. My sweater and I will be ready at five."

He stands and pushes his chair in. "Ava, I'll see you later, and Skylar, thank you for everything."

I watch as he walks away. "Anytime," Skylar says.

"See you at five," I finally say.

"Yes, you will, Ava," he says as he walks out of the dining room. I hear the bell over the large entryway door and I know he has left the building.

During the afternoon tea time, a small delivery comes in under my name. It's not the bulky, large deliveries we are accustomed to getting. This is smaller, more personal. I carry the not-too-large but heavy box over to the porch swing. Although I order almost everything online, I don't recall ordering anything recently. Opening the box, I'm excited to see a new tea set, complete with a teapot, sugar and creamer, and six teacups and saucers, all with a dainty red rose design. Skylar joins me on the swing and also looks excited. "Oh, where did you order these from?" she asks as she lifts a beautiful cup and saucer from the box.

"I didn't order them, I thought you did," I look at her with a surprised look.

She doesn't look at me but turns the teacup upside down to see who makes them and where they are from. "As much as I would love to take the credit for them, sadly, I can't. Is there a card inside the box?"

I look through the box and there isn't a card, but there are four oriental teacups without handles. I can't help but smile when I realize the tea set is from Xander. I remember I told him I would have to order some teacups without handles for the men who have tea with their wives. Although it was mostly a joke, he thought it was a good idea.

"What's so funny?" Skylar asks.

"These are from Xander."

"How can you be certain?" she asks, not sure my guess is correct, or wondering why Xander would buy me a tea set.

I remind her of the story and she concurs. "Not just good looking, but he's thoughtful, and he has great taste."

I can't help but agree. I planned on thanking Xander right away, but he's still out for the day. After the noon tea, we wash the new tea set and I get ready for my date. Skylar French braids my hair, and I decide to wear a floral sundress and white sandals for my date. I also have a white sweater in case I need it for later. I have to admit, I'm looking forward to spending some time alone with Xander, and being away from the bed and breakfast. A little mascara and clear lip gloss, and I'm now ready.

The doorbell rings, which is very unusual for the inn. Most people looking for a room just walk in. I answer the door expecting to see a delivery guy, but I see Xander standing at the door holding a bouquet of stargazer lilies instead. I greet him with a smile. He is wearing white linen pants and matching shirt with pale blue stripes, and his signature tan Sperrys. He's casual and sexy. He removes his sunglasses and returns my smile.

"Wow," he says.

That's the only response I need to get butterflies and a blush to my face. His hair is curly, unruly, and sexy. When I find my voice, I invite him in.

"Here, these are for you." He hands me the pink and white flowers. "Thank you. They're so beautiful," I say honestly. I lift them to my nose and inhale.

"I guess the florist was right."

"Right about what?"

"She said you can't go wrong with lilies."

Smiling, I say, "And she would be correct. You're a smart man to listen to her. Come back with me while I put them in water." I lead the way into the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. Xander stands in the doorway and watches me. I want to look over at him, but I concentrate on filling the vase with water instead. I cut the stems and arrange them neatly in the vase. "I got a delivery today."

"Fresh fruits and vegetables?" he teases. I think he's teasing. He isn't smiling so I can't be sure.

I watch him. "I got this beautiful tea set for six handleless oriental teacups." I wait for him to reply, but he doesn't, he just watches me. He isn't going to take credit for sending them. "Thank you, they're absolutely beautiful." Still no reply. Am I just assuming he sent them? "The men attending the afternoon teas with their wives also thank you."

Now he laughs. "And that's what gave me away."

"It is. But, seriously, you didn't have to do that."

"I did. I felt bad about breaking your teacup."

He looks remorseful and I feel bad. "I told you not to worry about it. It was something I picked up at a yard sale, and it's not a big deal, but I do like the ones you sent better than the one you broke."

"You're welcome, Ava. I'm glad you liked them."

I look at the stunning vase of flowers. "I have the perfect place for these. I pick up the vase and smile as I walk past Xander. He turns and walks behind me. I place the beautiful stargazer lilies on the center of the round table in the foyer. I rearrange a stack of my Jami Alexander books and a few other knickknacks neatly around the table. I stand back and admire the flowers. "Perfect."

"You're a romance reader?" Xander steps closer to the table and picks up the book on top of the stack.

"I am. This author is new to me, and I love everything she's written so far."

He reads the back of the book cover before he puts the book down and says, "Since when did a book with a drug addict classify as a romance book?"

"It's romance with a twist. She writes about problems real people face, while somehow she manages to give everyone a happily ever after."

"Only a woman could come up with something like that and make it happen."

"Or someone who understands women."

He steps back from the table and asks, "Are you ready?"

"I am. Let me tell Skylar we're leaving, and let me get my beach bag. I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

Xander

I wait patiently for Ava in the foyer. I scan the stack of twelve books on the table all written by the same author. I read the blurbs on the back of a few books. Of course, she's right: The books are written about normal people with real problems. Down syndrome, poverty, illnesses, and even domestic violence survivors.

Nervously, I step away from the table and readjust my shirt collar. I fidget with the change in my pocket, as I replay everything in my head. Do I have everything? Did I plan this date to be special enough? I know very little about Ava, but I know enough to know that she is someone special. If I want to get to know more about her, I have to be someone she'll want to spend some time with. How much of my life do I share? How much can I tell her before she runs away? Not much — that I know for sure. I can tell her things about my earlier years; that'll be safe enough.

I hear footsteps coming down the hall, and I stand more confidently than I feel. When Ava appears, I swear she looks more stunning than the last time I saw her. I want to know more about her. I want to know who she is, where she came from. I also want to know her hobbies, her likes, and her dislikes.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to make sure I have everything."

"No apologies needed. Not sure what you thought you'd need this evening, but it looks like you have more than enough." I reach my hand out for her beach bag. "I'll take that for you, it looks heavy."

It looks like she wants to say something different, but she says, "Thank you," instead.

I put the top down on the convertible and she stares out the window on the drive to the beach. She smiles, and she's removed her hat and replaced it with sunglasses. She has dimples that I've never noticed before.

"You have dimples."

She tries to hide her smile. "I do. They don't show all the time."

"Only when you smile."

"And laugh," she adds.

"They look good on you, you should wear them more often."

She looks over at me as if it's the first time she's ever heard those words. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

"You're welcome, it's the truth." Savannah offers beautiful scenic routes and it's easy to get lost in its beauty. I make a mental note to try to get her out as much as I can while I'm here. She's always at the inn and either doesn't have time or doesn't make the time to enjoy what Savannah has to offer.

Once we set sail in the large rented boat, I notice her dimples are deeper than I originally noticed. She looks young and carefree. I've never seen this side of her before.

"So, you've never been sailing before?"

"If I have, I don't remember."

I'm a little confused by her comment. If you've been on a boat, wouldn't you remember it? I don't mention it. "I thought we could do some dolphin watching first, then have dinner."

"Sounds perfect. Do you come out here often?"

"I try to go boating every chance I get. But, since I'm here and without a vessel, I've rented a boat only a few times. I've asked the people who work at the pier about dolphin watching, and they led me to this certain area." I steer the boat in the direction I need to go. "There were dolphins the last time I was there, but since I'm trying to impress a pretty girl, we probably won't see any."

She laughs, revealing dimples, and a blush comes her cheeks. As soon as I turn into the cove; we see dolphin fins coming up out of the water.

"Look!" she says, pointing to the pod of about six dolphins.

Good, they're here, and I think she's impressed. I lower the sail and open a bottle of champagne. I don't think she even noticed the pop and the cork. When I hand her the glass of champagne, she looks surprised.

"Oh, I love champagne, thank you."

"Are you hungry? I thought we could have some fresh fruit while we watch the dolphins."

"Sounds wonderful."

I open the lid to the wooden picnic basket and remove the plastic wrap from the prepackaged pineapples and strawberries. I hear a soft giggle coming from behind me. Maybe the meal I planned will be more impressive than the appetizer. I hope so, anyway.

"They're such nice mammals," she says, looking at the dolphins.

I have to agree. "They are; it's so calming to watch them.

She smiles at me as she picks up a slice of fresh pineapple, and turns to watch the dolphins. With her back to me, I watch Ava instead of the dolphins. I watch the way the loose strands of hair blow in the wind. I notice how straight her back is even when she's relaxed. My guess is that she has had years of dance lessons. I also notice her manicured natural nails with nothing but clear polish on her fingers and toes. Such natural beauty; truly a rare and pleasant find. She is so classy, but she isn't like other women all made up with unnecessary makeup and/or created out of plastic surgeries. Single solitaire diamond earrings grace her single pierced earlobes.

Once the dolphins have fed, they leave the area. It was nice while it lasted.

"Shall we eat?" I ask.

"It depends on what you brought for us to eat," she teases.

"I wasn't sure what you liked. I did find some cold cuts on an Italian roll that says on the packaging that it's fresh until tomorrow." I maintain a straight face so she can't tell I'm teasing.

She crinkles her nose but says, "Sounds delicious." The crinkle on her nose doesn't match her words. I reach inside the picnic basket and pull out a white linen cloth. I drape it over a makeshift table on the boat. Next, I pull out two containers of homemade clam chowder soup and some homemade bread for dipping. Her eyes get big but she remains quiet. I pull out two spinach salads, two entrées of pecan-crusted salmon with lemon glaze, with roasted potatoes. I decide to leave the dessert minis from Carla Jo Dean's restaurant in the picnic basket.

"This doesn't look or smell like cold cuts."

"I didn't say I bought them; I just said I found them."

She thinks back on the conversation before she smiles. "You're right. I misunderstood you." She watches me set everything out. "So, should I assume from the porcelain dishes and silverware that you made this dinner yourself from scratch?"

"No, you should never assume anything. Especially from me."

She looks confused. "Okay. It smells delicious, but I'm lost here." She looks at the table and scoots closer to get a better look. "These are Carla Jo Dean's dishes. I can tell them anywhere. Only her dishes have the ivy pattern around the edge."

I smile. She's pretty and smart.

She opens the picnic basket and looks inside. "Those are her dessert minis I love so much. If you ordered food to go, wouldn't they put everything in to-go containers?"

Normally they would. "I guess she likes me."

"She doesn't even know you." I can see the confusion on her face.

"I went in and ordered the dinners to go, she saw me, and I explained that I was trying to impress you. She said something about it being impossible to impress a girl with Styrofoam carry-out containers. So she offered me her restaurant's dishes with the promise I would return them unbroken."

"Well, Mr. Jamison. If I wasn't impressed before, I certainly am now."

"Well, thank you, Miss Emerson. Shall we eat?"

During dinner, we talk about more personal things than we ever have. I share with her that I have an identical twin brother named Andrew, and that my parents are still married to each other.

I ask her, "What about you? Do you have any sisters or brothers?"

"No, I'm an only child. My past is somewhat... how should I put this... confusing." She looks out towards the sunset.

I ask cautiously, "How's that?" God, please don't tell me you're married with kids. That would totally suck.

She looks at me with empty eyes. "I don't have any siblings. You've already met my mom, and she's still married to my father. Chase and Skylar are my best friends, and you've already met both of them."

Whew, no husband and kids. "Doesn't sound too confusing to me."

"I suffer from amnesia. I have no memory of anything prior to fifteen months ago."

"You're an amnesiac?"

"Since I suffer from amnesia, yes, that would make me an amnesiac." She smiles and reveals those deep dimples.

"Sorry. I'm just trying to figure this out."

"It's okay. It's a lot to take in."

"How did that happen?"

"I was married and from what I've been told, we were going out to dinner to celebrate our second wedding anniversary." She pauses as if she's trying to remember. "There was a car accident, and Connor, my husband, was killed, and I was in a coma for several weeks."

"Oh, Ava. I'm sorry for your loss. I had no idea."

"Thank you, but it's okay. Sadly, I don't remember him, and I realize I may never get my memory back. I have to move on and make new memories."

"Do you remember anything at all?"

"Some things have come to me in my dreams, but no, I haven't remembered anything to make me believe I'm this magnificent chef, or some mathematician, or an international jewel thief, or anything like that."

I love her sense of humor. "Wow. This is an incredible story. I honestly had no idea. I have a newfound respect for you."

"Don't," she laughs. "The amnesia is probably an easy way out. Having to deal with the death of my husband, and missing him everyday, I imagine, that would be harder than not remembering him at all."

"I don't know about that. Was it weird for you when you finally went home after waking up from the coma?"

"It was. The clothes in the closet fit me, but they didn't look like anything I would wear. The neighbors would see me and start talking to me, like I knew them." She tells me about seeing Chase and Skylar for the first time and having no recollection of either of them. "Skylar had this box of memories she kept of the things we did together. When I looked through the box, and after she explained what everything meant, we immediately became friends, and Chase, well, that didn't happen as quickly." She laughs, and I don't pursue why she and Chase didn't become friendly right away.

She runs her hands up and down her arms. "Are you cold?"

"It's getting a little chilly. I have a sweater in my bag."

"I'll get it for you. I have some coffee in a thermos, if you want some."

"You brought coffee?"

I hand her the sweater and as much as I want to take the credit for the coffee, I can't. The credit goes to Carla and her staff. "I do, with creamer and sugar."

"Carla really did think of everything."

I couldn't have taken the credit even if I wanted to. "She did."

While we watch the sunset, we have dessert and coffee. I try to focus on the beautiful sky, but I can watch only Ava. I knew she was someone special from the first time we met. I'm drawn to her, and I want to be the one to put happiness back into her isolated world.
Chapter Six: Secrets

Ava

On the drive home, Xander and I stop at Vic's on the River for a cocktail. This was the perfect date, and I wasn't ready for it to end. He is quite the gentlemen and does all the right things women like to see from their date. It's easy to see that he's had a good upbringing, and it's good to see that chivalry still lives on.

I order a Kahlua and cream and he orders a Scotch on the rocks. A memory flashes before me and it's gone before I can grasp onto it. I wish those memories would linger more and come more often, or not come at all. I hope that memory doesn't turn into a dream later on tonight. I hate having dreams from my past. They're never pleasant.

"Is everything okay, Ava?"

"It's fine, thank you." I'm thankful for the distraction of my not-so-pleasant past. "I've had a great time tonight, thank you."

He smiles and sets his glass of amber-colored liquid down. "I'm glad, so did I." He shuffles in his chair. "Is it too soon to secure a second date?"

Hell, no, it's not too soon. "I'm sure there's something written in Miss Manners that says you need to wait 2.5 days or something like that before asking for a second date," I tease without any hint of a smile.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He takes a drink of his Scotch and then asks, "Do you think we have waited long enough, now?"

I giggle. "It's been long enough for me."

"Good. I saw that the food and wine festival is being held this weekend along the river. Would that be of interest to you?"

Who doesn't love food and wine? "Sounds like fun."

He picks up his drink and says, "Once you work out your schedule with Skylar, let me know when you're free. We could go in the afternoon, or later in the evening. Whatever works out for you." He tosses the rest of his drink back and downs it in one swallow.

I watch him finish off his drink before saying, "Okay, I'll ask her tomorrow."

He pulls out his business card from his wallet and slides it over to me. "I'll be gone most of tomorrow, but here's my number in case you need me."

I call the number on the card using my cell phone and say, "And here's my number in case you need me."

He pauses for a minute with a crooked smile on his lips. "You're pretty funny, Ava. I like that."

On the drive home, he reaches over and holds my hand. I like it. His hands are soft but strong. I guess they would be soft. He does computer work, nothing about that would cause them to be calloused or rough.

He holds the car door open for me and also the door to the house. The house is dark with just the nightlight on in the foyer. The guest room doors are all closed, making the house appear to be empty. He looks at me with hooded eyes and asks, "Is there something in your Miss Manners book about kissing on the first date?"

I'm sure there is but at this point in time, I don't care what Miss Manners has to say. "Nope, she gives no advice about kissing on the first date."

"I've wanted to kiss you all evening." Then what are you waiting for? He touches my cheek softly with his right hand. In a raspy, low voice he says, "Ava, do you have any idea how irresistible you are?"

Closing my eyes, I focus on the warmth of his soft breath on my cheek. The shake of my head is my only reply. He softly touches the corner of my lips with his mouth. Moving slightly, he kisses me ever so sweetly. I don't think I have ever been kissed so softly in my entire life. We both moan softly before the kiss ends. I want more, but I don't initiate it. I don't want the kiss to end, but I let it. I wonder if this is how I always am with a first kiss? Am I also so eager and ready to kiss on the first date? Xander softly touches my chin with his thumb, and I finally open my eyes.

"Should I walk my date to her room to ensure she gets there safely?" He moves his hands slowly down my arm barely grazing me. It almost tickles but I don't dare laugh. The hair on my arm stands and my breath catches. I wish I could remember if these feelings are normal for me. If I've had them before, wouldn't I remember? I can't imagine forgetting something that feels so incredible. He stops only when he reaches both of my hands. We stand there holding hands like teenagers.

I hope I can make it to my room with my wobbly legs. "No, I think your date can make it on her own. Thank you."

"How about I watch you from here to make sure?"

"Okay, if you must, Xander. You're very thoughtful, thank you."

"I'll see you in the morning, Ava. Thank you for such a great evening."

"You're welcome, Xander. Sweet dreams."

Skylar was still awake when I walk through the doors to the main living quarters. "About time, I wanna hear all about it."

"Hi, to you, too. How was your evening?"

"Great, booked two rooms for the next couple nights. Enough about me. Let's hear how your date went."

"Good, we saw dolphins, Carla Jo Dean packed us a dinner with her fine china, we watched the sunset, then we went to Vic's and had a drink."

"Wait. What do you mean Carla Jo Dean packed you a dinner using her fine china?"

I plop down on the couch and tuck my legs beneath me. Skylar turns the television off. "Either Carla Jo likes him, or she's his mother."

"Well, from everything I've read about Carla Jo Dean, she runs the restaurant with her three sisters, and she's never had children. So, she is not his mother."

"I don't get it. He goes into her restaurant for the first time and comes out with two signed cookbooks. He goes back in and comes out with two meals, dessert, and coffee, and her good dinner dishes. Not the to-go containers that everyone gets when they order take-out food. She gives him her good dishes for our date."

"Ava, he's good looking, he's tall, and he does have a certain amount of sex appeal." I watch her and she's right. "He's easy on the eyes and he's easy to like. I wonder if he's a good kisser?" I immediately look away. "Oh. My. God. You kissed him!" It's not a question. "You kissed him on the first date."

"I had to."

We both bust out laughing. "Really? The best you got is that you had to?"

"It's true, I did. He has these dark mysterious eyes and these full soft lips.

She watches me and nods her head. "Okay, say no more, I get it."

"You do."

"Oh, yeah, totally. Does he have a brother?" she teases.

I smile. "As a matter of fact, he has an identical twin brother."

"No! You have got to be kidding."

"No, he told me tonight."

"You mean there's two of them running around? God, help me."

The next morning at breakfast, I'm disappointed that Xander isn't the first one up as he usually is. He's the last person to arrive at the breakfast table. He doesn't sit beside me, since another guest has already taken that seat; she is a petite attractive older woman. She's pleasant and she must be one of the guests whom Skylar checked in last night. Xander greets everyone as a group before getting his food and coffee. He sits at the seat furthest away from me. It also happens to be the only seat left at the table. I feel disappointed, and I'm not sure what I was hoping for: an intimate conversation, an early morning kiss, his hand holding mine beneath the table?

"Well, there he is. I thought you might sleep the morning away." I look at the petite attractive woman and wonder why she would be talking to one of our guests like that.

Xander's back stiffens as he slowly looks up at the woman talking to him. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I told you I wouldn't come, but after researching the area, I just had to. There's so much history here, and for the life of me, I don't know why I haven't been here sooner."

"Are you alone?" he asks, watching her closely. He furrows his brows and he looks upset.

I look quickly at Skylar and she is also watching Xander and the woman. The other guests are eating and not paying much attention. What in the hell is going on here?

"I am. Your father and brother had to work. I was hoping you could show me around later."

His face looks more relaxed. "Of course, I would love to."

He lifts his cup and then looks at me and says, "Ava." Then he looks at Skylar and says, "Skylar." He says to both of us, "This is my mother, Rachael. Mom, these are the two women who own and operate the inn."

I look away from him and now focus on his mother. I didn't notice it before, but they do resemble each other. They have the same dark hair and blue eyes, and they are both attractive. He gets his height from his father, no doubt.

I greet her: "Hi, Mrs. Jamison, it's nice to meet you."

"Please, call me Rachael. Mrs. Jamison was my mother-in-law." She looks away from Skylar and looks at me. "It's nice to meet you both, too. I hope my son here has been on his best behavior."

"Yes, ma'am. You've raised him well." I can feel Xander smiling at me and I don't dare chance a look over at him. I don't want to look at him and remember the first-date kiss we had last night. Would his mother approve of that? Perhaps not.

"Thank you."

"I hope you found your room comfortable," Skylar says from across the table.

"I did very much. This is a lovely place you have here. I'm looking forward to trying out the tea room with my son later today or tomorrow."

Xander says, "I'm not sure we'll have time for it today."

I know he isn't impressed with our tea or the crumpets we serve. I say as innocently as I can, "You'll have to make time. We just got a new tea set in that we haven't used yet." Your son bought it for me when he broke one of my teacups. Of course I don't say that. He knows what tea set I'm talking about, no doubt. I want to smile big, but I smile slightly instead.

Rachael picks up her coffee cup and takes a sip. "Sounds lovely."

After breakfast, everyone leaves and begins their day. Skylar and I walk into the kitchen to start the cleaning-up process. There's a tap on the kitchen door and then Xander walks in and says, "Hey, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, I thought you and your mom left?" I say, tying the apron around my waist.

"I have to get something from the bedroom, I'll give you two a minute," Skylar says.

"Thank you, Skylar," Xander says.

When she's gone from the room, he walks over to me. "We were leaving, but she forgot her sweater so I had to bring her back to get it. I wanted to let you know that my mother showing up here this morning wasn't a scare tactic."

Scare tactic? What does he mean by that? Oh, I get it. Skylar and I are the queens of break-ups and scare tactics, and I never once thought to introduce my date to my parents so quickly after the first date. I laugh. "I never thought that it was, but that would be a pretty clever way to end an unwanted relationship."

"It would be, but she showed up on her own accord, I swear."

"I guess I don't scare that easily. That's okay, she seems very sweet."

"She is. I wanted to tell you that I had a great time last night."

Smiling, I say, "I did, too. Thank you."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. I also wanted to make sure we were still on for this weekend."

"This weekend?" I ask, pretending to have forgotten our date.

His confidence is leaving his face. "Ava? Are you serious?"

I make sure I smile big enough to show my dimples. "I'm just kidding. I'll check with Skylar and then I'll text you later."

He smiles and squeezes my hand. "You know you're not funny, right?"

"It depends on who you ask."

He walks away and says, "Have a great day, we'll talk later."

Xander

I get my mother's sweater from her room and then ask her, "What would you like to do today?"

"If we hurry, we can make morning Mass at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist."

"Okay, morning Mass it is."

The church is quite impressive in size and in its French gothic architecture. It's probably the most magnificent building I have ever seen. After Mass, we drive over to Forsyth Park for a walk and lunch. I secretly text Ava and tell her we won't be back in time for tea.

"Are you texting the girl from breakfast this morning?"

I set my menu down. "What do you mean?"

"Xander? How long have I been your mother?"

I know where she's going with this. "Twenty-nine years."

"That's right. When you look at someone with that certain spark in your eyes, do you think that I can't see it?" I never doubted that for a minute. I don't answer her. I don't have to. "Now, are you going to tell me? Are you texting the girl from the inn this morning?" I can't lie to my mom. It's like an eleventh commandment: "Thou shalt not lie to Rachael Jamison."

"I was."

"Are you seeing her, Xander?"

"We've gone out once."

"Did you tell her?" Mom fidgets with her napkin. This isn't an easy conversation for either one of us.

"No. I just went out with her once. There's nothing to tell her."

"I beg to differ. If you get into a relationship with someone, she has a right to know what she's getting herself into."

"Mother, if and when I'm in a relationship, I'll go into great detail and explain everything to her. We've had one date and that's hardly a relationship. Please, can we talk about something else?"

"When are you coming home so we can deal with this? Your brother and father are worried about you."

"Soon. I need to work this shit out in my head, first. I need some time."

She reaches over and holds my hand. "Xander, I love you. I'm not sure how much time we have."

"I'll be home soon, I promise."

She sighs; she isn't happy with my answer. "Ok, just don't wait too long."

Mom and I both order a salad with grilled chicken breast, and we share a dessert.

"I'm glad you came to visit and that we had this time together. You look well, how are you feeling?"

"I'm well, Xander. Your brother and Jennifer broke up the other day. He's pretty upset about it."

"She wasn't right for him." I never liked Jennifer, but I acted like I did for my brother.

"Maybe you could call him later if you feel up to it."

"I will."

On the drive back to the inn, Mom wants to talk about Ava. She wants to know things about her that I have no idea about myself. Hell, with her amnesia, she probably doesn't know either. I can't imagine going through life and having no idea of who you were before the accident. I don't tell Mom anything about her. That's Ava's story to tell and if she wants people to know, she'll tell them.

When we pull up at the inn, Ava's sitting outside on the porch swing reading.

"Oh, Xander, I forgot that we were supposed to have tea this afternoon."

"I texted her and told her we wouldn't make it today."

"Oh, good. We wouldn't want her to keep a table reserved for us if we couldn't make it."

"She said she'll reserve us a table for tomorrow." From what I've seen, this tea room doesn't get busy enough where a reservation is needed.

I park the car and Ava smiles when she sees us. She's wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. Her hair is black, curly, and up in a high ponytail. As we walk the steps leading up to the porch, Ava sets her book down and says, "I can't wait to hear about your day." Mom sits on the swing with Ava, and I sit on the rocker glider next to the swing.

"What did you guys do today?"

"Savannah sure is a beautiful city. First, we went to Mass at St. John's Cathedral."

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

I watch the interaction with Ava and my mother. I mostly watch Ava. She's pretty to look at, but she is also very sweet. She seems to care genuinely about what we did today.

"It is. Have you been to Mass there?" Mom asks.

"Skylar and I have, but only once. I think it's a must to attend Mass in such a gorgeous church, whether you're Catholic or not." She takes a sip of her lemonade. "I'm sorry, can I get you a drink? I just made a pitcher of fresh squeezed lemonade."

"I don't want to bother you, thank you." Mom smiles.

"It's no problem." Ava begins to stand but I say, "Stay here and chat with Mom, and I'll get us a drink if that's all right."

"Sure, thank you."

When I return with the drinks, they are both laughing and talking about broken teacups. I assume they are talking about me, but they aren't.

"Skylar and I went to this yard sale once and there was a big box of chipped dishes that we assumed was trash. When we looked inside the box, there was this beautiful white porcelain coffee pot with a yellow and orange floral pattern, among the chipped dishes. It wasn't broken, chipped, or anything; it was in perfect condition. I asked how much for the box and the lady said $1.00. We carefully took it home, we went through it and saw that there was a coffee pot, sugar bowl with the lid, creamer, four teacups and saucers, and a serving platter all in perfect condition."

"Oh, that's amazing," Mom says.

"Skylar researched it and found that the dishes dated back to the 1930's." Now that's interesting. "That's my best yard sale find to date." Ava has no memory, so Skylar must have shared this to her. I can't imagine what it would be like to have no memory of anything.

"I haven't been to a yard sale in years." Mom looks away from Ava and looks at me. Here it comes, now she wants to go yard sale-ing. "Xander, when you return home, we'll have to spend a Saturday going to thrift shops and yard sales."

"I'd like nothing better," I say sarcastically.

Ava gets an ornery grin on her face but remains quiet. When a few guests return to the inn, Mom says, "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll try to take a nap."

I stand with Mom and say, "I need to try and do some work. Ava, thank you for the lemonade."

"Yes, Ava. Thank you for spending some time with us this afternoon." Ava also stands with us, holding her book and empty glasses in her hands. "It was nice getting to know you."

"No thanks needed. It was nice having someone to visit with."

I follow Mom and Ava into the house, and watch as Ava disappears into the kitchen. I walk Mom to her room before getting my computer and doing some work.

"She sure is a nice girl," Mom says as she walks into her bathroom.

She sure is. "I'll meet you later for dinner," I say to Mom before leaving. "I'll either be in my room, or downstairs working."

"Okay, Xander. I'll find you in a couple of hours."

When I walk into the tea room to work, I see the coffee set that Ava described neatly displayed on the fireplace mantel. Beside it is the signed cookbook I got her from Carla Jo Dean displayed on a bookstand. I walk over to it and look more closely. If there is such a thing, this would be a true yard sale treasure. Who would have imagined that this beautiful display on the mantel would have cost only $1.00? A free book and a dollar for the coffee set.

After checking and replying to my e-mails, I'm actually able to get some work done this afternoon. My mind drifts off to Ava and my more serious problem. What to do? I know what I need to do, but damned if that's what I want to do. My mind races back and forth from the news I received just before I took off and came here. I need more time and that is something I don't have.

When I can no longer concentrate, I go outside and call my twin brother, Andrew. "Drew, what's up?"

"Just working. How are you?"

"I'm good. Mom's here with me."

"Yeah, I know. She made me promise I wouldn't call and tell you she was on her way to see you. Are you coming home with her?"

"No."

"Xander...."

"Yeah, I know. I need more time. I need to wrap my head around all of this."

"I get that, I do. But don't you think being around your family at a time like this would help? Maybe we all can come together and come up with something. Running away isn't the answer. You know that, right? You need to be with family and we need to be with you."

"I'll be home soon." I feel like he's lecturing me. "How's Jennifer?"

"That's a low blow, especially for a relative who knows where it hurts most." He's right. It's a shitty way to take the conversation away from me.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Mom told me that you two were no longer together. She wasn't right for you, and you deserve so much better than that."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

Skylar walks into the room and smiles when she sees me. "I gotta go, but I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay, later."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation. I would have come back later."

"No, it's okay."

Ava

The next day during tea, Xander and his mother show up dressed up. It looks as though they are going to dinner instead of attending a tea. I knew they were coming today, so I made a few special items to have on the buffet for our guests. The fresh flowers we usually have on each table, I replaced a day early to make sure they were fresh and welcoming.

I watch as he escorts his mother to the window table that overlooks the butterfly garden. He stands tall and proud as he holds his mother's chair out for her. There isn't a menu to look at, but they sit down first anyway.

When the bell over the door rings, I head in that direction to greet whoever is entering. Skylar is already there smiling. I'm not sure why she looks so happy, it's just a guest. As I get closer, I now understand the look on her face. Carla Jo Dean and her three sisters are standing in the entryway foyer of our bed and breakfast. I'm suddenly aware of the frumpy floral sundress I wore today; I sure wish I had on something more appropriate. I greet them with a smile to match Skylar's.

Carla Jo Dean says, "You must be Ava and Skylar. A friend of yours recommended this place to us just last week."

"We're so happy to have you here."

"I'm a little embarrassed to say I didn't even know this gem was here."

"It's okay, we haven't been here long." We meet her sisters Martha, Rosa, and Brenda, before showing them to the tea room. I'm thankful that today I changed the tea menu. Our usual items are good, but today's menu is better. Carla Jo is just as beautiful and sweet in person as she appears to be on television.

Skylar and I stay at the door as they make their way into the tea room. When guests realize who they are, the room buzzes with excitement. Skylar takes her phone out and starts snapping pictures. I'm still too stunned to move. Carla Jo sees Xander sitting at the table with his mother, and he stands as they walk towards them. He motions for Skylar and me to join them.

Skylar stashes her phone in her pocket and we make our way through the room. I'm surprised to see Carla Jo hug Xander. I know he's a likable person, but they appear to be more like close friends or family. We walk to the table in the middle of their conversation.

"Rosa, would you run out to the car for me and get the books in the back seat?"

Rosa leaves and Carla Jo says, "I'm glad I ran into you today. I've been carrying around several of your books that I want you to sign."

Did I hear her right? Skylar looks over at me and I shrug my shoulders. Is Xander an author? Xander says, "Have you met Ava and Skylar? They're the owners of the inn."

"We met briefly when we came in. This is quite a lovely place you have here."

Skylar says, "Thank you, we like it."

"Jami was quite persistent the first day we met."

Jami? Who's Jami? I remember the signed books, and I also remember the picnic lunch she packed for us.

"Thank you for the signed cookbooks, and for the delicious picnic dinner you arranged for us the other night."

"Ava, you're very welcome, and it was my pleasure." The bell over the door rings and we watch as Carla Jo's sister, Rosa comes in with several hardback books. "Jami, whenever you have time, I would be so grateful if you would sign these for me. As you already know from the first time we met, I've been a fan since I read your first book."

I'm confused, and I'm stunned when Rosa sets the books on the table beside Xander and his mother, Rachael. My favorite author, Jami Alexander, wrote the books: Living in Seattle, Married in Los Angeles, Loving in Detroit, and Dating in Boston. Xander looks at me and then looks at Carla Jo. "I'll sign them before you leave today."

"Thank you."

Oh, my God. Jami Alexander is Xander Jamison. Xander writes under a pen name. I had no idea. His pen name is his first and last name reversed. How clever. All this time I thought Jami was a girl. A guy writes all of my favorite romance books. Suddenly I'm shy and embarrassed.

I can't say anything or move, but Skylar says, "It was nice meeting you. We hope you enjoy your tea and if there's something you need that isn't up there, please let us know."

"Thank you," Carla Jo says. I look at everyone before leaving, but I don't think I see them. I'm shocked. I'm not upset at Xander for not telling me, I understand why it was important for him to keep his identity a secret. A few guests have their cameras out snapping photos of Carla Jo and her sisters, or of Xander and his mother; I can't be sure who the bigger celebrity is.

Xander looks worried when he says, "Ava, we'll talk soon."

I look at Xander, Jami, whatever his name is, and smile. "I'll see you later this evening."

I have no idea how I walked out of the tea room without falling over, but I did. Skylar and I don't say a word until we are in our private living quarters. "Ava, that hot guy you're dating is the number one New York Times bestselling author Jami Alexander."

"We're not dating. We went out once; that doesn't make us a couple."

"He's already planning your next date. I think you'll be a couple sooner than you think."

Skylar is so excited and I'm not sure it's because of the two people sitting in our tea room or if it's because I'm actually starting to get a life.

When the excitement wears off, I sit on my bed and read the newspaper. I didn't have anything else to do today. I just needed a few minutes to myself. On the front page is a story of a local man who helped a woman who was being abused by her live-in boyfriend. It said the hero was driving by and witnessed the man dragging the near-naked woman from the house by her hair. He called 911 before getting out of the vehicle and rescuing the woman from further abuse. The woman and her two young children are now staying in a shelter for battered women until she can find steady employment and a place to stay. The boyfriend is now out on bail for a charge of domestic assault.

I leave the inn and drive to a local restaurant to purchase a gift card for the hero, and then I drive to Toys R Us and purchase two gift cards for the children. I'm not sure what to get for the abused woman, so I decide to send her a check. I write a personal note with the gift cards to the Savannah Tribune, and to the man and the battered woman. I don't have the addresses of the people the article is about; I figure the newspaper would forward the cards and notes for me. The addresses of shelter are kept secret, but often newspaper reporters know where they are. If nothing else, the editor could call the shelter and someone could pick them up. The note to the hero reads:

Hi,

I just read the article in the newspaper where you helped the battered woman and her two children. I had this need to reach out and thank you for what you did for them. Not everyone would have done what you did. It was very brave and honorable that you would put your life in danger to help a stranger and her two children.

I wanted to do something but had no idea what to do for you. I decided on a gift card from the Olive Garden. Maybe you can treat yourself and a date to dinner and a drink or dessert. I just felt the need to reach out to you and to thank you personally.

I'll sleep better at night knowing there are good people like you walking our streets.

Thank you, Ava Emerson

Later that night, Skylar leaves and I sit outside under the mossy oak tree. Normally I would read, but my mind won't concentrate on the words in the book. I think about the battered woman, Carla Jo Dean, and Xander. I see Xander's mother, Rachael, wandering about the rose garden. When she sees me, I wave and smile.

I was hoping to talk to Xander, but I'm happy to see his mother walking towards me.

"It sure is peaceful out here," she says.

"It's my favorite time of the day." The sun hasn't set, but it's low on the horizon. The breeze blows, and it's cool enough to sit outside without sweating.

She continues to stand beside me. She's changed from the clothing she had on during the tea. "I was hoping to catch you alone this evening."

Really? "Please have a seat."

"Thank you." She sits down across the table from me. "I could tell from your expression today that you didn't know my son was an author."

I want to laugh, but I smile instead. "I didn't know, but I think I was more shocked to know that my favorite romance author is a man."

She laughs. "That didn't happen by mistake. Xander always had a talent for writing. He could write poems, literature, research papers, and even his resume was interesting. In college he graduated at the top of his class in journalism."

"That's pretty impressive."

"We are very proud of him. After college he got a job at the local newspaper and that's where he got the name Jami. His colleagues would call him that teasingly." She smiles at the fond memories. "He even won the Pulitzer award in journalism for a series of stories he wrote on poverty."

I listen intently. "I had no idea. I know his books are wonderful and refreshing to read. Everyone has problems, but they also find a happy-ever-after."

"They do. He isn't like other authors. He writes about real-life people with real-life problems. He spends many hours researching these problems and interviewing these people and the troubles they face on a daily basis. He researched genres and other authors and I think that's when he decided he would write about romance under the pen name Jami Alexander. He didn't think women would read his books if they knew he was a man." I'm not sure I would have either. "It's not that he keeps his identity a secret on purpose, he's just very private. And now that he's a number one New York Times bestseller, it would almost be like he's bragging."

"I understand, really I do. You don't owe me an explanation."

"Oh, but I do." I turn around and Xander is standing behind me. He's wearing jeans and his signature white linen shirt

"If you'll excuse me, I'll give you both some time to talk," Rachael says.

"Thank you, Rachael," I say.

"You're more than welcome, Ava."

"I should have told you, and I'm sorry I didn't." Xander sits in the chair his mother was sitting in just a few moments ago. "When you told me about your amnesia, I should have told you then."

"Xander, I don't think you owe me an apology or an explanation. We went out only once, so it's not like we've dated for months and you've kept this big huge secret from me all this time."

He looks serious. "Ava, I feel like I've deceived you and I'm sorry."

I have an idea and a smile forms on the corners of my mouth. "If you sign my books for me, I'll think about forgiving you." Now, I have a full-tooth smile on my face.

He's also smiling. He leans up on the cast-iron bistro table and takes my hand in his. "If you'll still go to the Savannah Food and Wine Tasting Festival with me on Saturday, I'll not just sign your books, I'll also personalize them for you."

I don't have to think twice about this. It's a win-win for me. Signed books from my favorite author, and a date with a handsome man. "It's a date."

"Good."

"So, do I call you Xander or Jami?"

"If you want me to answer, you'll call me Xander."

Xander

Whew. That was a lot easier to clear up than I thought it would be. All she wanted was for me to sign her books for her. I thought she just had the few books on the foyer table and the one she's been carrying around reading in her spare time. Little did I know she has every book I ever wrote stashed in her living quarters.

We order a pizza and she watches a movie while I sit and sign the books for her. Usually, I have no idea what to write. Sometimes, I write funny stuff. In a 15-year-old girl's book, I once wrote, "Thanks for saving my life in Vietnam." But for Ava, I knew exactly what to say in each book I signed.

Ava

Always expect the unexpected.

Jami

And in another book, I write,

Ava,

Always unexpect the expected.

Jami.

She laughs as she tries to peek inside the book to see what I'm writing. I cover it up like it's some big secret. Secret. Shit. I have something else I should tell her, but how? There's never a good time to say what I have to tell her, or to anyone. I'm here for only another three weeks. She may never need to know. Once I leave here, we'll probably never see each other again, so she won't need to know what I'm hiding. I'll enjoy the time I have with her and not worry about the other problem I have. As if that's even a possibility. It's the only thing I can think of.

Mom reluctantly leaves and goes home in the morning after breakfast. I promise her I'll be home soon and then we can deal with my problem. I know I should get home now, and face the painful truth, but I can't. I'm not ready to face my fears; I'm still in denial.

On Friday, I have a leisurely day in my room. I didn't go down for breakfast and I didn't leave my room for lunch. Ava calls my cell phone and tells me she's made some homemade soup and asks if I would like to try some. I say "No," but immediately there's a knock at my door.

"Room service," she giggles. I hear her through my phone and through the door as well.

I swipe disconnect and answer the door. Ava is standing there, holding a tray with two bowls of soup, some crackers, and two bottles of water. The smile on her face shows through her eyes. "May I come in before everyone staying here thinks we now offer room service?"

"By all means." I'm not feeling well, but I don't tell her that. As I close the door, I say, "What a pleasant surprise."

"I hope it is." She carries the tray and sets it on the desk. I didn't see you leave, and unless you're hiding a hot plate and a refrigerator in this room, you couldn't have eaten anything today."

She's not just beautiful and smart, but she's also very observant. "I was going out this evening for dinner," I lie.

"Yeah, you sure look like you were just getting ready to head out."

I look down at my gym shorts and wrinkled black T-shirt. My bed is unmade, and I haven't showered yet for the day. I must remember to never lie to this woman. "I wasn't feeling well today," I say honestly.

"Rachael called the inn and said that she was worried about you. She said you weren't answering your phone, and asked if I could check on you."

I look at the dresser and my phone isn't on the charger. "I'll call her in a bit and let her know I'm all right. Did she happen to say anything else?" I hope not.

"Nope, that was it. I can go down and call your mom for you while you eat and let her know you're all right."

There's food for two on the tray. "Aren't you staying and eating with me?" I can see the hint of orneriness in her eyes. I love the look she gets before she says something funny.

"Not if you're sick. There's no need for the both of us to get it." She walks past me to the door.

"I'd like for you to stay and eat with me. Strep throat isn't contagious, is it?" She backs away and I laugh. "I'm kidding about the strep throat, but I would like for you to stay and eat with me."

She walks towards me and places her hand on my forehead. "No fever, so you're not contagious. I guess I can stay for dinner."

She walks over and gets a bowl of soup and a bottle of water from the tray and hands it to me.

"Thank you." I sit on the bed and let her sit at the desk while she eats. "How do you know I'm not contagious?"

"I'm a nurse. Fevers are contagious. I could check your blood pressure, take your temperature if you wanted. Skylar and I even have some over-the-counter meds if you need anything."

"Is she a nurse, too?"

"She was, now we're innkeepers." She takes a bite of her soup.

"Do you remember being a nurse?"

"I don't. Oddly, I remember how to nurse. I can't remember anything about my life, or my family, but I remember how to care for surgical patients."

I think about what she says. "Maybe the loss of your memory is God's way of protecting you." She stiffens. Did I say something wrong?

"Yeah, maybe."

She doesn't stay long after we eat. I think I was hungrier than I thought. The food was good and satisfying. "I thought I could pick you up around six tomorrow evening."

"I thought you could stay in bed and get well." She gathers the empty dishes and places them on the tray.

"I'm fine, and I'm not contagious. So, I'll be here to get you at six. I spoke to Skylar and she's okay with staying at the inn while we're out."

"I don't mind waiting until you're better. There'll be another food and wine tasting."

"Yes, there will be, but we'll be there at this one. Look, I'm already feeling better." I stand and escort her to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow night at six if not before."

"Okay, if you insist. But when tomorrow night comes, I don't want you crying over a bellyache."

I laugh. "Okay, I won't. I'll man up just for you, Ava."

"Just get better tonight, and if I don't see you for breakfast, I'll know the date's been canceled."

That gives me less than twelve hours to get better. "Okay, I'll see you for breakfast. Thank you for dinner. I truly appreciate it."

"It's okay, I can't have my guests getting sick on me. If you need something, just call me and I'll bring it up for you."

"Good night, Ava."

"Good night, Xander."

The next morning, I'm up bright and early, showered, and ready to start my day. Normally, I would open my door and wait for the lights to come on in the dining room. Today, I head to the kitchen and offer my assistance to Ava and Skylar. Of course, they don't need my help. So I have coffee and watch them work. I feel better today, but I'm not feeling as well as I had hoped. I'm determined to keep my date with the woman who has recently caught my eye.

"You're looking better this morning," Ava says, walking past me with the breakfast casserole.

My eyes follow her. "It must have been the soup."

Before she leaves through the door to set the casserole on the buffet, she says, "May I suggest if you want to continue to feel better, you should ditch the coffee and have a glass of that orange juice on the counter instead."

Ava leaves and Skylar says, "She's right about that. Vitamin C will definitely help you more than the coffee will." Deciding the two nurses in the room might be right, I set my coffee mug down on the counter and reach for a glass of juice instead. "So you have big plans for tonight, do you?"

I down the orange juice. "We're going to the food and wine festival."

"I know we talked about you taking her there, I think it's a good choice."

"I hope it's enough to impress her," I admit. "I like Ava, and I would like to continue to see her while I'm in town."

Skylar looks at me as if I said something wrong. "Xander, if you want to impress Ava, just be yourself. She's a very simple girl with old-fashioned values. She doesn't need fancy things, or a lot of things, or even expensive things to be happy. She just likes the simple things in life. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

I think about what she says and I get it. I think I knew that about her all along. "I think I do."

Ava walks back into the kitchen, carrying only the oven mitts. "What's taking so long with the biscuits? We have guests who need to be fed."

Skylar places the last of the hot biscuits into the basket and covers them with the white cloth. "Hold on, I'm coming."

Ava says, "Xander, can you get the juice for me, please?"

Before I can answer she's out the door with a bowl of fresh fruit. I follow behind her and Skylar with the juice pitcher.

I spend most of the day down by the lake with my computer. I've recently been inspired to write my next book. I have to admit that the beauty of Savannah, and the beauty and personality of Ava, are my inspiration. I always go and spend a month or so in the city where my book is centered, but it's the first time that I've met someone while working and researching. I usually focus on my writing, but Ava caught my attention and kept it. I try to write, but I find myself thinking about Ava, what Skylar said, and about my problem. I know what I need to do, but I don't know if I can tell her. Not yet anyway. As soon as I come to terms with it, I'll tell her.

On the way back to the bed and breakfast, I remember Skylar saying that Ava likes the simple things in life. I don't buy her roses or flowers today, I stop by Walmart and get her something that she'll be sure to love. This is something I can honestly say I never gave to a girl before, but Ava isn't like any other girl.

I shower and dress casually for our night out. It'll be warm and we'll be doing a lot of walking, so casual is the best attire for this evening. As always, I'm looking forward to spending time with Ava. Before knocking on the door to get her for our date, I assemble her gift and set it under the large mossy oak tree.

She opens the door with a huge smile on her face. "What is that?"

I look up, wiping the sweat from my brow. Setting up the hammock was not a big job, but it tired me. "I didn't get you flowers, but I saw this and thought it was a better idea."

"A hammock? You got me a hammock?" Her smile lights up her entire face. The screen door closes behind her as she walks off the porch to join me under the tree.

"I did. Do you like it?"

"I love it."

Good, just the reaction I was hoping for. "Here, see if it works." I stand and give the empty hammock a shove. "It looks like it works. The hammock has its own stand so we can move it anyplace you want it."

"This spot is perfect." I thought she would sit down gingerly at first, but she flops down on it in a sitting position, and pushes off with her foot. The hammock swings easily and I watch as her hair blows in the wind. She looks young and carefree. In a sitting position, she pats a place beside her. "Here, try it. It's big enough for the both of us."

I sit on it more cautiously than she did. It swings smoothly and she pushes off with her foot. "Thank you, Xander. I love it."

This date is starting off exactly as I had hoped. We find a parking place at the old railroad museum and she says, "I have always wanted to attend one of these." I hold open her car door for her.

As we walk around, I begin to feel ill. I was hoping with all of the orange juice I had this morning that whatever I am feeling would have passed. I don't say anything to Ava.

"So, tell me something about yourself," I say.

"Like what?" She takes a bite of her shrimp skewer.

"Something that makes you different from everyone else."

She laughs. "Hey, there's a wine booth. Let's get something from there."

Not sure if it's a distraction or not, I follow. "I'll go first. I write romance books under a gender-neutral name."

She stops in front of the wine booth. "Not fair, I already know that."

"What do you want to drink?" We hold hands and it feels good.

"Riesling for me, please"

"Two Rieslings, please." I put the cash down on the counter. "Your turn."

"I have amnesia," she teases.

I want to laugh, but I still find it difficult to joke about. We get the wine and continue to walk around.

"I like the shock on people's faces when they realize that I write best-selling romance books."

She giggles, "I bet you do."

"Your turn."

"Don't get mad at this one."

Why would I get mad? "I won't."

She takes the last bite of her shrimp and throws the trash away in the bin. "In high school Skylar and I would break up with guys using non-conventional ways."

"Do you mean through a text message?"

"No, nothing like that."

Now I'm intrigued. "I may need an example."

"I was afraid you might." We both take a drink of our wine. "I once tried to break up with a guy in college and when he kept calling me, I knew what I needed to do."

"What was that?"

"I went out with him again."

I chuckle. "Good way to let him know you're serious about ending things with him."

She doesn't look away, she watches me. "Before our date, I bought a book and tucked it inside my purse. While we were in the restaurant, the book fell from my purse onto the floor of a very busy restaurant." When he picked up the book Baby Names: The Easy Way to Choose the Perfect Name for Your Baby by Heather Kennedy, he quickly ended our date and that was the last time we ever went out."

Was she really pregnant with his baby? "Should I assume you were pregnant?"

"We never had sex."

One part of me wants to laugh, but then I kind of feel sorry for the guy. "You and Skylar did this often?"

"Apparently. I have amnesia and I can't remember doing anything like this."

"Your amnesia comes in handy, doesn't it?"

"Sometimes it does. What about you? Have you done anything so heinous?"

I think back on my twin brother, Drew, and me. "I told you I have an identical twin brother, didn't I?"

She laughs, "You did. I think I know what you're about to tell me."

"You do?"

"You traded classes in school with your brother to pass a test or something?"

No, not that. "Because we were identical twins, and not many people could tell us apart, I would often break-up with his girlfriends and he would break-up with my girlfriends."

"Because breaking up is hard to do?"

"As you know, it is."

"You two look that much alike?"

"Well, I can tell us apart." I smile. "My brother and our parents seem to be able to tell us apart, too."

She smiles a big smile. "Always a smart ass?"

"No, not always, but sometimes."

Ava

Xander and I walk around the festival eating and talking. When I said I was going to eat something from every booth, I was only kidding. But we do try something at a lot of them. The food is delicious, and the wine is good. We don't drink much wine since neither of us are big drinkers. It's evening and still very warm.

"Do you mind if we sit for a second?" Xander asks.

He guides me to a picnic table before I can answer. "No, not at all. Are you feeling okay?"

"I think the heat is getting to me."

As soon as we sit down, I notice he doesn't look well. "Sit here, while I get you some water." He doesn't say anything before I leave and find a booth.

While waiting in line, I hear someone yell, "Call 911."

I look in the direction of the commotion and see it's coming from the picnic table where Xander and I were sitting. I scan the crowd frantically, and I don't see him. The skin on the back of my neck crawls and I get a rush of panic through my body. Leaving the stand before I get the water, I run towards the commotion. Xander is on the ground having a grand mal seizure.

I rush to him and yell, "Help me get him on his left side." Someone does. We need to hold him in this position until his seizure stops, or until help arrives. Whichever comes first.

"Did someone call 911?" a man asks.

"I did. They're on their way."

"Is there a doctor around?" I ask. Please say yes, please say yes.

No one says anything. I'm a nurse, and I know there isn't anything I can do for him here. If we were at the hospital, we could give Valium I.M., or something to stop the seizures temporarily until doctors can find the cause. It's tough to watch someone I care about suffering, knowing I can't do something to help him. I keep him on his side and wait for help. When one seizure stops, another one starts.

"Does he have epilepsy?" someone asks.

"I don't know." I search his arm for a medic alert bracelet, but there isn't one. When I hear the sirens, I'm relieved. Xander has been having seizures for almost seven minutes. This isn't good. Everything becomes foggy as I watch Xander and the medics. I step back and let them start the IV and take his vitals. I feel useless just sitting here doing nothing. I see his cell phone lying on the grass and walk over to get it. I'm happy to see no one has stepped on it.

"Ma'am, you can ride to the hospital with us. They'll need some information from you."

"Okay." In the ambulance, Xander isn't convulsing, but he is unconscious. I know that the meds they gave him to stop the seizures probably aren't the cause of his unconscious state. I need to call his mother, but I can't from inside the ambulance. The sirens would surely frighten her. I look at Xander lying on the gurney. He looks paler than normal, and his body seems lifeless. I get a flash of a vision as cold chills run up my arm, but it leaves quickly. I have a feeling this is a memory I don't want to remember.

Xander's eyes flutter open and he looks around in confusion. I lean forward careful not to bump the wires and tubes connected to him. I'm hoping if he sees me it'll put him at ease.

"Hi," I say as calmly as I can.

"Ava?"

"Don't talk, Xander, it'll be okay." He looks around the ambulance watching the staff and then the monitors. He inspects his hand and follows the IV line leading from his hand to the pole. The bags of fluid are swinging from the bumpy ride and he closes his eyes. Good, maybe he'll rest.

When he opens his eyes again, I gently squeeze as I hold his left hand. "Ava, there's something you need to know about me." What could he have to tell me? He has seizures? He's epileptic? "I was going to tell you, but I didn't know how."

He pauses and I say, "You had a seizure, Xander. There are medications you can take...."

"No, Ava. It's not just the seizures."

I hold my body still, but my heart races. I wait for him to find the words.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how to say it."

I squeeze his hand again. "Just say it. It's can't be as bad as you think."

"Ava." He clears his throat. "I have cancer."

Cancer? I'm a nurse, I know what cancer is, but can this be right? He seems healthy. He doesn't appear to be sick... well, not before yesterday. "Xander, are you sure?" What a stupid thing to say. If someone has cancer, of course they're sure. "You can beat this. There's chemo, and radiation, and...."

"It's too late for that." He watches me with sad eyes.

I squeeze his hand tighter. "Wh-what do you mean, 'It's too late for that?'" I stutter. What I'm thinking can't be right. I need to hear it. I need for him to clarify what he means. It's too late today or this week. What does he mean?

He turns his head so he's facing me directly. I notice, for the first time the dark circles under his eyes, his dry lips, and the worry lines at the corner of his eyes.

"Ava, I'm dying." 
Books By Brenda Kennedy

I support Indie Authors. If you read this book, please take the time to go to the purchasing site and give it a review.

Independent authors count on your reviews to get the word out about our books. Thank you for taking the time to read my books and taking the extra time to review them. I appreciate it very much.

Disclaimer: People and places in this book have been used fictitiously and without malice.

Coming Soon

The Forgotten Trilogy

Book Two: Living for Today. Coming... Fall 2016

Book Three: Seeking the Future. Coming... Winter 2016

Available Now

The Forgotten Trilogy

Book One: Forgetting the Past.

The Starting Over Trilogy

Book One: A New Beginning

Book Two: Saving Angel

Book Three: Destined to Love

The Freedom Trilogy

Book One: Shattered Dreams

Book Two: Broken Lives

Book Three: Mending Hearts

The Fighting to Survive Trilogy

Round One: A Life Worth Fighting

Round Two: Against the Odds

Round Three: One Last Fight

The Rose Farm Trilogy

Book One: Forever Country

Book Two: Country Life

Book Three: Country Love 
Acknowledgements

My husband, Rex: Thank you for supporting me and for coming with me on this ride. Thank you for understanding that although I am in my pajamas, I am indeed working. You are my partner for life, and I love you.

My children: Thank you for reminding me what is important every single day. I love you.

My grandchildren: Thank you for reminding me that I am somebody; I am your grandma and nothing else matters. I love you all.

My sisters and brothers: Thank you for your endless support. I love you.

My brother, David: Without you, I wouldn't have been able to publish the first book. Thank you for making my ideas better and for all you do. Editing, proofreading, polishing, formatting, ideas, articles, and research websites. See, I do pay attention. Thank you. Thank you for pushing me until I get it right. Maybe someday, I'll learn the right place to put the commas. I love you and I can never thank you enough. I love you. David writes collections of anecdotes such as The Funniest People in Movies, and he retells classics in such books as William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream: A Retelling in Prose. His books can be found for sale on all leading online electronic book sale platforms.

Christina Badder, Owner and Operator of CBB Productions: My P.A., and my friend. Thank you for taking care of all of my promotional needs. The blog tours, author spotlights, book cover reveals, give-a-ways, Rafflecopters, ARC's, and everything that I don't know that you do or things I forgot to mention. I hope you know how much I appreciate your hard work and dedication. Girl, I love your work and your vision. You are so amazing and I am so glad I found you. I plan on keeping you, forever. For more info on Christina and her amazing work, see www.cbbproductions.com. Christina is also a LuLaRoe consultant, if you're looking to purchase the softest leggings around.

Becki Angle Martin: Thank you for designing this stunning cover. You saw my vision and brought it to life. Thank you.

Thank you to all of my Beta readers: You are amazing and I couldn't do it without you. I appreciate your honest opinions and reviews, and I love the bond that we have developed. Also, I appreciate that I can trust you and count on you. Thank you for encouraging me to write and for giving me ideas. You never disappoint. I love you guys!

Thank you to "Brenda's Street Talkers" for sharing my books, making teasers and banners, and for the love and support I receive from you every day. I love you girls.

Thank you to all the bloggers who shared in the author's spotlight and the blog tour for Forgetting the Past. I appreciate you more than you know.

A very special thank you to author DB Jones for your endless and continuous support. I feel like I've known you my entire life.

To my readers: Thank you for reading and reviewing my books. Thank you to my loyal readers who have followed me from the beginning and to those who are new to my books.

For those readers who enjoy a darker, more intense read: My daughter, Carleen Jamison, has recently published her debut novel, titled Inappropriate Reactions. It is Book One of the Mind Games Series. This book is intended for mature audiences only and is available on all leading platforms. You can follow her on

Smashwords Author's page: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/carleenjamison

Facebook Author's Page: https://www.facebook.com/author.c.jamison?fref=ts

Info for David Bruce, My Brother

Smashwords (Books for Sale, and Free Books)

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bruceb

WordPress Blog

https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com
About the Author

When I first started writing, I wanted to write about real people whom others could relate to with real-life problems and real jobs. I love to read about the billionaire 20-something-year-old, but knew this wasn't the kind of story I want to write. When my first trilogy, The Starting Over Trilogy, took form, I was thrilled to be able to make the book as close to realistic as I could.

I wanted to touch on real-life problems. Not because I want to show the weakness in my characters or to show the disturbing truth, but because I wanted to show my characters' strengths. The Starting Over Trilogy dealt with domestic violence: a problem that is all too familiar to too many women and men.

Next came The Freedom Trilogy, a spinoff of The Starting Over Trilogy. The series started off with the All-American military family and the real problems some face during deployment. I picked my daughter's brain and used her real emotions during the deployment stage. Thank you, Amanda. Then the story turned to drug abuse and rehabilitation.

The Fighting to Survive Trilogy focuses on battles of a boxer, depression, and how to move forward after the loss of a child. It tells the story of two families who are fighting the same battle.

Then The Rose Farm Trilogy took form. This series takes place in my old hometown in rural Ohio. I was excited to revisit my country roots and quickly learned that although I now live in Florida, I was never far from home. This series focuses on poverty in rural areas and how little a person needs to be truly happy. Although it takes place in my old hometown, the people and the circumstances are purely fictional, except for Rick Crooks and his sister.

I hope that in my future books I am still able to continue to write about problems most of us face while continuing to give my characters the happy-ever-afters that they deserve.

On a lighter note: I moved to sunny Florida in 2006 and never looked back. I love freshly squeezed lemonade, crushed ice, teacups, wine glasses, non-franchise restaurants, ice cream cones, boating, picnics, cookouts, throwing parties, lace, white wine, mojitos, strawberry margaritas, white linen tablecloths, fresh flowers, lace, mountains, oceans, and Pinterest. I also love to read and write and to spend time with my family.

My books, thus far, have been inspired by the things I love and the people who influence me, every single day, to be a better person.

You may follow me on:

FB author page : http://on.fb.me/1ywRwmI

BookBub Author's Page: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/brenda-kennedy

GoodReads : http://bit.ly/1szWiw5

Twitter : https://twitter.com/BrendaKennedy_

Webpage: http://brendakennedyauthor.com

