Remy
Say yes, please. You’re not allowed to make me feel guilty about turning her down simply because I’m not going. Plus, family’s important. You need to go.
He groaned. Despite what Remy had said on the phone earlier, he knew she was mad at him. He needed to make things right and it sounded like turning his mom down wouldn’t be a step in that direction.
Jeremiah
Fine, I’ll go. I’ll see you after the lunch.
She sent back a smiley face emoji, which did nothing to reassure him.
When Remy stepped back from hugging Wendell the next morning, a gust of emotion caught her by surprise. She felt a mixture of pride for all they had accomplished, deep fondness for this lonely man, and a chaser of sorrow over saying goodbye.
“I’m sad to see you go.” His lips quivered. “It’s been the best thing in the world to share a house with someone again.”
“I’ve enjoyed it, too. Thank you for hosting me.”
“Thankyoufor making this place nice for me.”
“Do you promise to utilize the organizational systems I set up and stay on top of everything?”
“I promise.”
“And you’ll take your medicines and vitamins and stick to your kidney-friendly diet?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as if he were a schoolboy and she, his principal.
“I regret that I haven’t found Marisol yet.”
“I probably shouldn’t have mentioned her to you in the first place. That was just the wishful thinking of an old man.”
“I’m not giving up, Wendell. I’ll keep looking for her.”
His head moved in a smallnomotion. “I knew back then, and I’ve known every day since, that I ruined my chance with her. It’s a mistake that can’t be undone.”
By 9:00 a.m., Remy was pulling her rolling suitcase over the planks of the dock. It made an unevenbump bump bumpnoise behind her.
She kept looking over her shoulder, unreasonably concerned that Jeremiah would come running toward her, ordering the boat’s captain not to pull away. And, of course, the captain would bow to his wishes as if Jeremiah were a prince and the rest of them were commoners.
So far, no sight of him.
They climbed aboard and the mellow conversations of tourists ebbed around her. The first mate loaded their belongings, then unwound the rope that bound them to the mainland. The boat eased away.
She looked back once again.
No Jeremiah.
She’d gotten away successfully, and this was absolutely the right thing for her. She was certain of that. So she should be feeling relief instead of this dragging sense of loss.
She missed him already.
ChapterEighteen
Fiona knew exactly where to stand inside her living room—just back from the glass and sheer curtains—to observe someone’s arrival without being observed in return. Thus, she spotted Jeremiah as soon as he pulled up to take her to lunch.
She still hadn’t wrapped her mind around the fact thatherJeremiah had no memories of being Jeremiah. No recollection of her, his brother, his childhood, any of it. The millions of beautiful and heartbreaking (but mostly beautiful) moments he’d lived—gone.
Would he come to the door or honk? Would things be closer to normal between them today? Or uncomfortably strange? If the latter, she mustn’t let that get her down. He was physically safe. His past would return to him. Allwouldbe well.
