She forced her breathing to even out while they finished their conversation. Then, thank goodness, Jacob powered ahead without pausing to give anyone else a chance to ask the questions stamped in their curious eyes. She shook off the uneasy sensation of being gawked at and charged forward.
He held the chair for her before settling across the table. She forced her hands to steady, reminded herself to relax.
With a fingernail, she flicked the edge of a menu that peeked from inside an old school primer. “Can we not tell people about my, uh, memory issue just yet? I don’t want that to be everyone’s first impression of me—crazy amnesiac lady.”
“Whatever lowers your stress level. I didn’t say anything to the guys over there, in case you were wondering. I spoke straightaway with the doc and she’ll keep patient confidentiality.”
“Thank you.” Dee stole another glance at the diner’s patrons and wondered if everybody would treat her problems with as much care as Jacob had.
Table by table, diners stopped staring and returned to their meals. Except for one group over by the potbellied stove soda dispenser. Emily was standing there, draped over a teenage boy. They were with a group of seemingly normal, everyday kids.
A fragment of Dee’s peace edged away. What kind of life did her own child have? Was she missed along with trips to the park and ice-cream parlor? Dee couldn’t decide which bothered her more—her child crying for her or not missing her at all.
Jacob drummed his straw against the table absently. “Let’s try a word association game.”
Anything sounded better than waiting around for her past to magically unveil itself. Of course, it also made her all the more vulnerable to Jacob. What would she reveal unwittingly? “Okay. Ready whenever you are.” Liar.
“Home.”
An empty hall echoed. “House.”
“House.”
Stenciled cartoon airplanes along a wall. “Nursery.”
“Baby.”
Love. “Child.”
“Husband.”
Nothing. She drew a blank. Her head throbbed with the effort of trying to force an image. She pressed her fingers to her aching temples. “It’s fading.”
Jacob touched her elbow. “We’ll try again later.”
“Sure.” Dee swiped her hand over her forehead, feeling wobbly and caught between two worlds. She looked around the room to ground herself in the moment.
Her gaze hooked on Emily feeding French fries to the teenager she guessed to be Chase. His mother must be watching the baby, because Madison wasn’t anywhere in sight. Chase’s clothes hung from his frame. Broad shoulders filled out his oversize T-shirt and open button-down. Dee couldn’t help but think that if Emily were her daughter, she’d blow that boy out of the water for putting his hands so low on Emily’s hips, especially in public.
She could see the tension in Jacob’s jaw, felt an echoing frustration. What was the right answer for those two? She honestly didn’t know. They were stuck in such an awkward age, hiding all those confused feelings behind too much hair and droopy pants, teenagers trying on new personas like hats.
Was she much better off? Trying to find pieces of herself and patch them into a whole person.
Even if she discovered her old identity, she wondered how much of the new creation she would carry with her. She couldn’t imagine emerging from this ordeal as if it had never happened. Certainly her short time knowing Jacob would be imprinted on her brain long after she left Rockfish and this moody man behind.
“Supper was nice.” Clouds puffed into the night air as Dee spoke. “Thanks for the fried walleye.”
Outside Dee’s motel door, Jacob leaned against his truck fender. “No problem.”
He watched Dee clutch the doorknob behind her back. Was she reluctant to say good-night, too?
They’d shared a room once, but concerns for her health had offered a substantial cold shower. Tonight, especially after that kiss, his resolve was weakening.
A fleeting image of waking up next to her tormented him. He couldn’t leave fast enough. “See you in the morning.”
“Jacob—” Her voice reached to him.
Glancing back over his shoulder, he asked, “Yeah?”