I shake my head as Cora places her hand on my shoulder. “We all know how much you hate the unexpected, and where this will end up, I don’t think anyone can predict. She could regain the memory of why she left and decide that it was the right thing to do. Or she might never regain the memory of why she left you. You might just fall in love with her all over again. She might be a completely different Lucy than we know. But stop the act and get it going, because the longer you try to act like you don’t care, the longer until it’s over.”
It’s not that Cora doesn’t have a point. She should’ve continued her schooling to get her doctorate in psychology.
“What do you expect me to do?” I ask.
“She remembers you, she remembers me, and although she might not want to, she’ll probably remember Toby.” She gives me a wink.
“I’m a memorable guy,” he says.
“It’s a great start. Maybe you take her to the cabin. Walk her to where you got married. Show her memories of her life here with you.”
My jaw clenches when I think about how I’ll be inflicting pain on myself if I do that.
“She shouldn’t be at the inn. She should be sleeping at the house. She should be surrounded with memories of the two of you.”
“Fuck, Cora.” I push my hand through my hair.
Her shoulders rise in a cocky shrug. “Just say I’m right.”
“Am I really going to do this?” I say more to myself than her.
“I promise you this. If this ends badly, I’ll gladly serve you a beer at noon next time.” She smiles wide and slaps me on the back.
I look at Toby, and he’s looking at her as though she hung his fucking moon. Damn them and their happiness. Their perfect family.
She won’t have to serve me a beer because if this goes bad, I’ll be bent over my brothers’ bar with an empty bottle of whiskey in my hand.
“Two months, Luce. That’s all you’re getting. And I want you to know I do not agree with this decision.” Mom stands outside her Uber in the parking lot of the SunBay Inn, her bags already in the trunk. “Mandi wouldn’t take my card to pay for you, so clean up after yourself. Don’t make them cater to you.”
“I won’t.”
She nods a few times, still looking put out. I can’t let her get on a plane and go back to Idaho with us like this.
“Mom,” I say, stopping her before she climbs into the back seat. “I’m not trying to upset you.”
She sighs. “I wanted to spare you from this, but I see now I can’t. It’s your life. You made that clear to me a long time ago.”
I rush into her arms and squeeze her tightly, hoping the friction that was there before I left Adam will evaporate this time around. I want a different outcome if I decide Sunrise Bay is where I want to be.
“I love you,” I say, meaning every word.
“Just be careful, sweetie.” She runs her hand down my back and releases me sooner than I would have.
I step back and she slides into the car, waving one last time before the Uber pulls out of the parking lot.
My phone dings with a reminder. I forgot that my neurologist wanted to get on a video call to talk to me now that I’ve been here a few days. I’m still caked in dry mud and there’s no time for a shower.
I head into the inn, thankful I’m staying in town. Climbing the stairs, I go into my room and see that my mom made her bed before she left. I grab my computer and sit on my bed, positioning it on top of a pillow.
After I dial Dr. Lipstein, his bald head pops up on the screen.
“Lucy,” he says, positioning his computer straighter.
“Hi, Dr. Lipstein,” I say.
“How is Alaska?” He leans back in his chair.
One thing I love about Dr. Lipstein is the fact that he’s laid back. He never makes me feel as though there’s something wrong with me. From day one, he’s made it clear that hopefully my memories will come back, but they may not and that’s okay too. My first appointment after I was discharged from the hospital was with a support group he suggested where some people have regained all their memories and others who haven’t regained any. Seeing those people thriving made me think I could too. But it also spurred me to want to come here to Alaska.
“It’s okay.” I shrug.
“Just okay?”
“My mom left to go back to Idaho and I’m going to stay here.”
A small smile creases his lips.
“What?”
He chuckles. “I had a feeling things wouldn’t go how you predicted up there.”
“What does that mean?”
His head tips right and left as though he’s unsure how to say whatever it is he wants to say. “I’ve been doing this job a long time. Something about your mom’s position on you returning there just flagged me. That’s all. When someone loses their memory, unfortunately, it can sometimes bring people back into their life in a way they weren’t a part of it before. You’d returned to your family after you left Sunrise Bay, but I think there’s a lot to uncover while you’re there. A large part of who you used to be.”
“I’m married,” I blurt.
His eyes widen. “Your parents didn’t tell you?”
I nod, still annoyed that my mom tried to erase this part of my life. “I guess I left him about a year ago. I don’t remember why, and I really want to.”
“Did he approach you when you got to town or did someone tell you?”
I shake my head with a proud smile.
“You remembered?”
“It was crazy. My mom and I were walking through town and there were all these people because it’s the day before tourist season starts and the entire town comes out. And I turned my head to the right and saw Adam. I couldn’t get to him fast enough.”
“And how did Adam react?”
My smile dims. “Confused. When I saw him, I felt like I was still married. I forgot for a moment that more than a year had passed since I’d even been in Sunrise Bay.”
“I see the disappointment on your face, and you should know that’s to be expected. You remembered him and that you were married. Anything else?”
“Ever since, little things from my past involving him have come back. A memory from when we were thirteen, and another one at sixteen.”
“Lucy, that’s amazing. I assume that’s why you’re staying in Sunrise Bay?”
I nod, biting my lip. “I think this is where I need to be for now.”
“I agree. I’m sorry your mother did not though.”
I shrug, appeased that Dr. Lipstein agrees I should stay. “From what I gather, she never came to my wedding. She doesn’t like my husband or his family.”
He nods.
“I’m mad because she was trying to keep me from remembering.”
He nods again.
“I mean, how could she take that away from me?” Tears slip down my cheeks. I’m unsure who I can talk to about this. The fact I have to resort to talking to my neurologist says how desperate I am for a friend. I thought my mom was on my side, marching along to get me back to who I was, and now I’ve found out she was trying to steer me away from the very place that would help me.