The dark brown front door swings open, and a young female whose sharp facial features strongly resemble the aging man beside her steps out.
“You’re here!” the woman shouts, a broad smile spreading across her face, softening it up. She bolts toward us in her high-waisted ripped jeans and white crop top. Barefeet, chipped,painted toes, and all. Casual, indeed. She juts out her hand to me, a throng of bracelets decorating her tanned wrist. “I’m Branda. The coolest Prewitt sibling. Even Noah’s agreeing from wherever in the world he is, right, Ashton?”
I cover my mouth, not knowing if it’s appropriate to laugh at that. I look at Ashton, but he shakes his head at his sister while wearing a loving smile. It’s as if he’s already tired of her antics but loves her and appreciates her too much to comment on it. The older man approaches from behind, bumping his daughter out of the way before I even have a chance to shake her hand.
He’s tall and slim with—surprisingly not balding—short salt-and-pepper hair that matches his black T-shirt and white, pleated dress pants. He rolls his sparkling hazel eyes as he reaches out his hand. “Hi, Esme. I’m Lincoln, but you can call me Link. I’m the coolest Prewitt overall.” We shake hands, and then he cuts his eyes to Branda and puts a hand to his ear. “Hear that, Branda? That’s the sound of Noah agreeing withmefrom wherever he’s sullenly run off to.”
They all laugh, and this time, I join in, already feeling more at ease as they jest over who is the coolest Prewitt according to the missing Noah.
Dark humor must run in the family, and somehow, I fit right in.
Which is a thought I should not be entertaining.
Finally, Ashton says, “I think we can all agree Noah would say Esme is the best out of all of us.”
I blush, but I don’t feel quite comfortable to comment. I shouldn’t vibe with these people like my immediate response is to. It’s not like I knew Noah as long as they did before losing my memories, anyway. I was a blip in his life, but if what I wrote was true, it was the best blip in time.
But what good is living to my best if I can’t remember it?
Link and Branda agree, saving me from having to speak.
“Well, let’s head on inside. It’s hot as blue blazes out here,” Link complains, already walking toward the house. We follow him inside.
The air conditioning kisses my face as I leave the sticky July heat behind me. The house is immaculate with its vaulted ceiling, arched windows, spiral iron-clad staircase, and minimalistic color scheme and tones. It’s a house that screams that this family comes from money, but it’s not ostentatious. This place is a whole other universe compared to Ashton’s eclectic home, though I guess Noah had a role in creating the contradicting rooms.
“Can I get you some tea? Water? Coffee?” Branda asks as Ashton and I sit down on the suede brown loveseat.
“I’ll take some tea,” Ashton comments.
“I was asking Esme. You know where the tea is,” Branda quips, then she turns a sweet, hopeful smile on me. “So? What will it be?”
I sneak a glance at Ashton, who nods in encouragement for me to answer. He doesn’t look put off by his sister’s sass, only mildly amused.
“Coffee, please. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Make that two cups,” Link hollers from down one of the hallways on the right side of the home.
“Got it, Daddy.” And with that, Branda nearly skips across the dining room and into the kitchen tucked away on the far left of the house.
Ashton releases a breath followed by a laugh. “I don’t know why I miss her when she’s not around.”
“Do you want me to make you some tea?” I offer.
“Nah. Just wait. She’ll come out here with a steaming cup of peach tea. She just likes to pretend she doesn’t enjoy hospitality.”
“Does she still live here?”
Ashton nods. “She says someone has to look after Dad and Grandma, and that she’s perfectly content being the one to do it. Says she doesn’t want to get married. That she’s happy in her singleness. She’s only twenty-five. Plenty of life ahead of her.”
“Hm.” Happy in her singleness. I think back to ten years ago when I was seventeen and gearing up for high school graduation. I was so focused on finding a husband that I ran into the first arms that welcomed me. Lane did a number on me with his subtle manipulation and chipping away at my ideas of love. I took a little time after we ended, and I didn’t find a man who wanted to marry me until Bryan came along. Safe, bland Bryan. And we all know how that ended up, though I wonder what manipulation I’m missing from my time with him if he actually told me something along the same lines of what Lane told me.
But then Noah apparently popped into my life and was going to give me the happily ever after I’d always wanted. It wasn’t until after the accident—no, the attempted murder—that I woke up with no recollection of my adult life and realized I could chart a new path forward. I was forced to pave new roads. Make new brain connections.
“Esme?” Ashton’s concerned voice tips me from my thoughts. He’s sitting up and twisting toward me.
“Lost in my head,” I say with a weak smile. At that time, Branda walks into the room holding a mug.
“Only because I love you,” she says through a smirk, holding the plain black mug out to Ashton. He takes it with two hands, though he glances over at me as if to say, “Told you.”
