“No need to glare down at me like that,” I growled in response. “I’m just finishing up some paperwork before I head home.”
Suzie arched a brow. “You’re not avoiding Megan because you’re upset, are you?”
“What? No!” Even though it gutted me, every time she looked at me with the eyes of a stranger, I was determined to make Megan remember. “Gus sent me a text saying that the girls took her to the Cowboy Café for lunch.” I hoped they could help knock something loose in the recesses of her memory.
“Oh, that’s a good idea. Maybe we should all do something like that. I mean, not me, of course, because we aren’t all that close. But the town loves her.”
They did. “I don’t want to overwhelm her yet. She’s still jumpy.”
Suzie nodded and let her arms fall to her sides. “Okay, but it’s still time for you to go, so go on. Get out of here.”
I sat back in my desk chair and arched a brow at the hospital administrator. “So eager to get rid of me?”
“No, but the longer you stay, the greater the likelihood your services will be needed and the next thing you know, it’s after eight.”
Dammit. “You’re right. Five minutes or less to finish this chart and then I’m gone. I swear.”
“I know, because I’ll be back in exactly five minutes. If you’re still here, you’re taking up the overnight shift for a month when Megan gets her memory back.”
I knew Suzie was just determined enough to do it, too. “Five minutes.”
Ten minutes later, I drove away from the hospital feeling aimless. Restless. I would never avoid spending time with my wife—we didn’t get enough time together as it was—but what I needed now was something else. Someone else.
I didn’t know who, exactly, until I found myself idling in the driveway of my childhood home. My parents loved Megan like she was theirs, and no one would understand my pain better.
A knock on the window drew my attention and I looked up to find my mom smiling down at me with sympathy. “You plan to sit out here all day, or do you want to come inside?”
I motioned for her to step back and got out of the car. “I was just taking a moment to get my thoughts in order, Mom.”
She tilted her head to the side and pulled me into her small, toned arms. “Oh, honey, scattered thoughts are always welcome here, especially if they’re yours.” She squeezed tight and I squeezed her back, lifting her off her feet. “Stop doing that.”
I grinned, the way I always did. “Can’t. It’s too fun.” For too many years I hadn’t been able to do it and now that I could, I did it whenever I could—mostly because it made her laugh.
“You’re not too old to take over my knee, young man.”
I laughed at that. “You didn’t put me over your knee when I wasn’t too old, Mom. Who are you fooling?”
She sighed and wrapped an arm around mine, tugging me toward the front door. “No one, I guess. How are you doing, honey? How’s Megan?”
I sighed and toed off my shoes at the front door. It was one of the concessions Mom had made to retirement, becoming more relaxed and not requiring formal footwear in the house. Now she preferred everyone comfortable in bare feet, socks or guest slippers.
“I’m as good as can be expected, Mom. Megan is good physically, but she still remembers nothing. No one.”
“I’m sorry, Casey. What’s the action plan?” She smiled and nodded for me to follow her into the kitchen.
“Sam will be here the day after tomorrow, and then we’ll come up with something. For now, the plan is to just remind her who she is, who we are together. She’s at lunch now with Persy, Gus, and Hannah.”
“Oh, what a wonderful idea! I’ll take my turn, too.” Mom settled herself on one side of the counter and motioned for me to sit on a stool on the other side. “Corn fritters and salad for lunch, if you’re hungry.”
“Starved,” I said as I realized I’d skipped breakfast and lunch, determined to get everything done quickly so I could return to Megan. “Can I do anything?”
“Just keep me company and tell me how you’re doing. For real.”
“I’m heartbroken, Mom. The woman I’ve loved for more years than I can remember doesn’t remember me. She doesn’t know a damn thing about our amazing life or our friendship. And the worst part is that I know she might never remember.”
I couldn’t think of that, refused to even entertain it as a possibility, even though I knew that wasn’t an option.
“Really? From what I understand, this is a wholly temporary condition.”
“Mom,” I groaned. “You’ve been on the Internet again?”
“Of course, I have. Megan is the daughter I never had. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure she remembers how much she is loved and cared for in this town.”