I opened the door. A couple of bottles read Ava Roberts, which Tucker had told me was my name.
“Do I take all these?” I asked.
“No, we keep the old bottles. Anything with a big red X is one you shouldn’t take.”
“You said this happens every few years?”
“It depends on your medicine. This is the third I’ve known about.”
I passed a table covered in photographs and returned to the first room. Nothing looked familiar, although the smell was soothing. I moved to a hall. There were three doors. I opened the first, a closet full of towels and blankets. The second was a tiny bathroom with a blue shower curtain.
The third was a bedroom with one big bed.
“Is this mine?” I asked Tucker.
He shuffled his feet, eyes downcast. “Sometimes I stay here with you.”
So, I slept with this man in this bed.
I drew in another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Will you tonight?”
“No. No. Of course not. But I should stay on the couch. It’s almost midnight, a bit late to go back to Gram’s.”
“Gram’s?”
“My grandmother.”
I hesitated. “Do I love you?”
“You did,” he said. “I completely understand that you don’t right now.”
Strange. I sat on the bed. “I’d like to be alone for a little while.”
He nodded, his face solemn. “Let me know if you want me to help you with memories. We prepared for this. There are videos and notes and photos.”
“I don’t want to do anything yet. Can I be alone?”
Tucker shoved his hands in his pockets. His hair was tousled. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
When he was gone, I closed the door and turned to my room. I stepped inside the closet and walked among the unfamiliar clothes. I liked jeans and colorful shirts. I had a lot of shoes. Some of the shirts were bigger than the others. I held one out.
This one must be his.
His clothes were here. I’d never get him to leave.
A box tucked in the far back corner of the top shelf caught my attention. It was high and hard to pull out, so I moved on, heading back into the room. The dresser proved full of socks and underwear and T-shirts. The difference in the type of items from one drawer to another told me that some of these were also Tucker’s.
There was no escaping him. He belonged here, too.
I moved to the door, listening. He must have been sitting quietly because I couldn’t hear him moving around.
I turned back to the room. Should I go out? Ask him questions?
The box in the closet nagged at me. Something about it made my stomach quiver.
I returned to it. If I stood on my highest tippy toes, I could pull it forward. Finally, it landed in my hands.
I took it to the bed and lifted the lid. Inside were stiff circles that read “Big Harry’s Diner” like the keychain that opened the door. Big Harry’s must be important.
