I hesitate. The flavors are all familiar, so why can't I remember if I like cheesecake? My mind is blank.
But there are two flavors I’ve learned I don’t like. Brussels sprouts won’t be a problem here. “Are any of them apple flavored?”
“Sorry, no.”
“That’s a good thing. Apples make me gag.”
With that out of the way, cheesecake seems like a great way to console myself while my three closest friends are at the Christmas Cherry Auction.
Taking a toothpick, I poke a cherry sample and cautiously bring it to my lips. Very few adults wouldn't know if they like cheesecake so I'm prepared to control my reaction.
The creamy morsel melts on my tongue. Oh! My eyes flutter shut. I love cheesecake. I toss the used toothpick into the trash can and grab a sampler tray to take home.
The baker waves. "Enjoy."
In the beverage aisle, my gaze drifts over every color of soda can possible. Nothing seems right.
A flicker of a memory hints that a White Russian would hit the spot, but no ID means no booze.
I'm stuck in limbo, not knowing how old I am. My memories indicate I've enjoyed alcohol, but every memory seems to be at a friend's house, never in public.
I should've nudged Jolene or Starla for help securing alcohol. Too late now.
Sparkling cider it is. I snag a bottle, the gold, shimmery label lifting my spirits.
I load my treats onto the belt at the checkout line. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I fish it out—someone from the Aubergine Affair is calling. My heart skips a beat as the cashier scans my items.
The Aubergine Affair is the sex club where the auction is being held.
I swipe to answer while counting out dollar bills for the cashier.
"Molly? It's Laz, with the Christmas Cherry Auction."
"Hi." I grab my bags and step away from the checkout.
"Look, we had a mix-up on our end. You should have gotten an invite. Roxy—one of the originals—has an extra dress if you want in."
Me? In the auction?
I glance at my sweatpants and baggy sweatshirt. My knees go weak. I lean against the dog food display that runs along the front wall of the store. My hands shake so much, I set the bag with the cider down before I drop it.
Fresh start. Tonight. Let the Christmas Cherry Auction work its magic for my future.
"Molly? You there?"
"Yeah, sorry." I can't get too excited. "I want to do it, but there's something I need to tell you."
"If you're in, I have programs to reprint. Can it wait?"
"No."
The cashier catches my attention. "You okay?"
I nod, grab my bag, and move to the end of the dog food display, away from anyone who might hear.
"What's so urgent?"
"Nobody knows this, but I have amnesia. I don't know if I'm a virgin."
