I’m going to have to roll with whatever punches come my way.
I’m also going to have to lie my pants off. Which is unfortunate, since I’m really horrible at it. Gran always knew when I was lying, but she’d never say what my tell was.
When Marina comes to get me for dinner an hour or so later, she brings with her a clean dress.
It’s definitely vintage, robin’s-egg blue, with buttons. The slim-silhouette A-line skirt would fall at my knees.
“I brought you something dry,” she tells me. “It’s freshly laundered. And it’s time to eat. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving,” I tell her honestly.
She beams. “Then you’ve come to the right place. My mother always makes too much food, even with rationing.”
Rationing?
“I can’t wait,” I tell her. I wait for her to leave so I can get dressed, but she doesn’t. She pulls my elbow, helping me to stand. Then she helps peel off my clothes.
“These are interesting,” she tells me, eyeing my snow pants. “Where did you get them?”
“Amazon,” I answer without thinking. She looks at me.
“Where?”
“Um, a store where I’m from. Idaho.”
Lord, I hope they don’t ask many questions. I know nothing about Idaho.
“You live in Idaho? What are you doing here, then?” Marina asks, folding the turtleneck that I’d just handed her. “Is your husband away in the war?”
“I’m, uh, not married yet,” I tell her. “I don’t think. I’m not wearing a ring.”
“Me either,” she says, as if she’s confiding in me. “I’ve got a good-looking fiancé, though. I’m just hoping he comes back.”
He will.
“He will,” I assure her.
She helps me shimmy into the dress, and it fits me fine, although it’s a little snug in the chest.
“You’re curvier than me,” Marina, my gran, says, eyeing my chest enviously. “I’ve got little goose eggs myself.”
My cheeks flush because this is my gran talking.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” she says. “Being closed off up here, I sometimes forget my manners.”
“It’s okay,” I assure her.
“My mother said you can stay as long as you need to,” Marina tells me, linking her elbow with mine as we walk down the stairs. “It might be impossible for us to get to town right now. We’ll have to see. If it is, you’ll stay here until we can.”
“This is very kind of you all,” I tell her.
She nods. “We just hope you get your memory back, so we know how to contact your folks.”
“Me too,” I tell her. “It’s the strangest thing.”
“It must be awful,” she decides. “Not knowing where your people are or even who you are.”
“It’s a very odd feeling,” I tell her honestly, as I look around the dining room. A record player plays Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.” I’d forgotten how a record even sounds . . . crackling and distant.
“We hope you’re hungry,” Sophie says, as she walks to each man seated at the table and serves him cornbread.
“I am,” I assure her. “Starving, actually.”
The men go around the table and introduce themselves to me as I sit. There’s Edward, William, Albert, Frank, Charlie, and Joseph. As I glance at them, I realize they all have something in common. They’re either older or injured.
William, Albert, and Frank are older . . . in their forties. Joseph and Edward each have a physical issue. Joseph has missing fingers, and Edward has a disfigured ear.
Edward catches me staring.
“My brother shoved me into the campfire when I was seven,” he says cheerfully, taking a big bite of stew.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him. He shrugs.
“I’m used to it now. You just gotta talk into my good ear. I can’t hear a lick out of this one.”
I nod.
“You can call me Joe,” Joseph tells me, and he’s got the brightest, most sparkling blue eyes.
“And you can call me Piper.” I return the favor. Everyone stares at me now, since I have an odd name. So now I’m the odd girl they found in the snow with no memory and a weird name. Perfect.
Have Piper aircrafts even been invented yet? Feeling fairly confident that they were built in the twenties, I speak up.
“My dad was a pilot,” I tell them, leaving out the part where I was conceived in a Piper. “So I was named after an airplane.”
“Ohhh, that’s charming,” Sophie says with a smile. “I love interesting stories. Do you remember your father’s name?”
I shake my head. “No. I remember him, but I can’t see his face clearly or remember his name. It’s the strangest thing.”
“You must’ve hit your head, girlie,” Edward says. “You’d better rest up.”
“Thank you so much for your hospitality,” I tell them all. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m so grateful you found me.”
“Don’t you fret,” Sophie says, patting my shoulder. “Edward’s right. You must’ve hit your head. You’ll remember soon enough. This happened with ol’ Tom Ford, do you guys remember?” She glances around the table, where everyone is nodding. She looks at me.
“He had an accident at the mill, fell into the metalworks. He didn’t die, but he hit his head mighty hard and couldn’t remember a thing for close to six months.”
“But it all came back to him?” I ask quietly.
She nods. “Oh, yes. He was lying in bed one night, doing absolutely nothing of note, and all of it came rushing back. It darned near gave him a heart attack, he said. But he remembered, and so will you. And when you do, we’re here to help.”
She takes her seat, and I pick up my spoon to take a bite, but everyone holds hands. Marina holds hers out to me, and I pause.
She lifts an eyebrow and nudges my hand.
Ohhh. I wrap my fingers around hers, and with Edward’s on my other side, as Dale says a prayer.
He thanks God for my arrival, for my safety, and for the hands who prepared the meal.
When he says “Amen,” everyone repeats it and digs in to their food.
After a minute, Sophie exclaims, “Oh, dear. I forgot the peaches. They’re from a batch I canned this past summer, and they’re delicious. I thought having a special guest for dinner is the perfect occasion to serve them.”
She stands up and, immediately, every man at the table stands.
I pause, staring at them.
This is what having manners looks like.
They don’t sit until she returns and takes her seat.
Everyone acts as though the simple canned peaches are made of gold, and each person carefully spoons out a couple of slices onto their plates, saving them for dessert.
Not only is this a different time, but honestly, it feels like an entirely different world. The entire ambience feels different. More serene, cozier, yet more formal. There are no cell phones beeping or vibrating. There’s no TV in the background.
Marina laughs at Albert—and her face! I’ve missed it so much. It’s unlined now, and her eyes sparkle with life. This is Gran as I never knew her, but she is most certainly my gran.