She’d been pleased to discover the first pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, yellow with flowers that made her smile as she rubbed the baby-soft fabric against her cheek. How lucky could she get?
Much luckier.
The next day, she’d unearthed Gore-Tex gloves, then snow boots and a hat, followed by another pair of jeans and a cashmere sweater—with a tag from the Gap still attached under the arm.
If she got any “luckier,” she’d be Irish.
Dee fingered the cuff of her pink sweater. He really needed to stop with the gifts before her IOU pad overflowed. She was tempted to sit on her pride awhile longer and see how far Jacob would carry the magical lost-and-found game. Aside from the fact she desperately needed the clothes, the tokens had also carried her through a week of disappointments as they uncovered nothing earth-shattering about her identity.
Thanks to Jacob’s quizzing, she’d had small breakthroughs. She and Jacob often sat in front of the lobby fireplace eating popcorn and flipping through magazines to see if any of the pictures prompted a memory. Flashes taunted her, but offered her nothing concrete.
The smell of roses on a corsage pinned to a prom dress.
The wind on her face during a childhood bicycle ride with a friend.
The sound of planes roaring overhead…At a base? During an air show?
Regardless, she couldn’t help but notice how often her impressions included something to do with the military lately. Could she be blending her present with Jacob into her past? Or were the memories real? She honestly didn’t know.
Sometimes she wondered if she might be fighting herself because the present seemed so appealing. And handsome. And hot. Dee smoothed her hands along the fuzzy softness of her new sweater.
Still, the time had come to put a stop to Jacob’s charity.
This didn’t seem the best time to approach him, though, with so many people around. Were his friends always so social on the weekends?
His military pals from the diner had apparently spread the word about her because a half dozen had come to check her out. She couldn’t keep the names straight, especially when they rarely went by a real name, instead using their call signs such as Picasso and Tag. Crusty and Bronco had both brought their wives and kids—she’d been happy to see Kathleen again.
Jacob had a wide circle of friends and support. She envied him that, even as he wrestled with arranging his life. Her gaze shifted to Emily, who was on the sofa, writing in her journal while the baby slept in her swing.
For once, it wasn’t snowing. The sky stretched across a mountainous forever, interrupted only by the occasional airplane from the base rumbling past. Dee rubbed her hands over the goose bumps raising along her skin.
Restlessly, she closed the closet door and parked herself behind the computer. She’d found doing random Google searches sometimes sparked a memory.
Emily shifted on the sofa, Naugahyde crackling. “Guys are kinda dense, don’t you think?”
Dee swallowed a laugh. “What brought that up?”
“Oh, just stuff.”
“Like?” Dee nodded toward the window.
Outside, Chase helped Jacob salt down sidewalks—when the teen wasn’t lobbing snowballs at random targets.
“Well, Chase comes to pick me up last night, and he’s so clueless. He doesn’t even walk to the door. He just honks the horn. I don’t expect him to, like, open doors and pull out chairs and all that stuff, but he could at least ring the bell, don’tcha think?”
“That would be the polite thing to do.” Dee swept aside Emily’s feet and sat beside her. “Maybe he doesn’t know better.”
“Have you met his mom?” Emily shot a glare out the window and mumbled, “Or maybe he doesn’t want to mess with having a kid.”
The baby swing clicked softly.
Life hadn’t played fair with the girl, either, Dee thought.
Emily locked her journal and pitched it to the floor. “It’s no big deal really. I’ll just freeze Chase out for a little while longer until he gets the message.”
“Or you could tell him.” She couldn’t squelch the longing to dispense maternal wisdom about boys and dating.
“Yeah, right.” Emily hitched her knees up to her chest and tugged her baggy T-shirt over them. Her face turned moony-eyed with adolescent longing as she stared at Chase.