I nearly laughed at the silly thought. He wasn’t mine, but I was bursting with happiness that he was here. I stuck out my hand.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Jimmy,” I said, his impending touch making me shy again.
His large, strong hand with scars across the knuckles engulfed mine. I gave it a shake but didn’t let go.
“Wow, this is crazy,” I said. My cheeks hurt from smiling. “Crazy and good and just…”
“A miracle,” he said.
God, the way he was looking at me. I searched my memory for some moment with Jimmy that was more than talk and music. There had to be, given how insanely attracted I was to him already. I found only echoes of conversations about Marc Antony and Cleopatra. And Jimmy protecting me from the sick asshole who’d made me touch him. Jimmy hauling him off of me, making him go away. Jimmy holding me and singing, promising that he’d follow me into the dark.
“Yeah. Exactly.” I moved closer to him, my hand still in his. “And I was right.”
“About wh-what?”
“About you,” I said. “You aren’t just a dream at all.”
He was taller than me by a good six inches. His head inclined slightly as if he was going to kiss me. Which was nuts. I just met him, for crying out loud.
Only I didn’t. We met a long time ago. We met over and over again. This time, instead of slipping away to wherever the amnesia took me, I was staying right here. If Jimmy wanted to kiss me in front of all these people, that was fine with me because I wanted to kiss him too. Badly. It would be a bow on the momentous gift of waking up, so to speak, because my God, this man was sexy in both the most obvious and understated of ways.
“Thea,” Delia said from behind me, jerking me from my thoughts. Her tone like a cold shower. “It’s time you rested. Say goodbye to Mr. Whelan.”
“Why?” I said.
Before she could answer, an older man with a grandfatherly face spoke up.
“Because your sister is right,” he said. “You should rest. You can talk with Jim again later. Tomorrow, maybe. Or the next day. Or the day after that.”
Something passed between the two men. An inside joke, maybe, because Jim looked like he was biting back a smile. I stared at the older man, my brain working as if I were on Jeopardy! and the seconds were counting down until the buzzer.
“Alonzo,” I blurted. “You’re Alonzo.”
He tipped an imaginary cap to me. “Indeed, my dear. And may I say it’s so very good to have you back, Miss Hughes.”
“Thank you,” I said. My gaze returned to Jimmy like a tractor beam. “I’m glad to be back.”
“Come, Thea,” Delia said stiffly. “The doctors have more questions.”
Nurse Rita stood beside me. “Let’s take you to your room.”
I loved Rita so much—thousands of memories of her taking care of me with kindness and patience clogged my brain, as each day was almost identical to the next.
Until Jimmy came. Bringing music and singing, paints and canvas.
Delia took my arm and physically pried me away from him. I gave him a parting smile I hoped wasn’t too desperate and let my sister and Rita drag me away.
Dr. Chen and Dr. Milton followed us up to the third floor of the sanitarium. We passed a dining room on the way to the elevators, and the scent of fried chicken wafted out.
“I’m super hungry,” I said. “I haven’t eaten anything in two years.”
“Of course you have,” Delia said. “Don’t exaggerate.”
“Wait, please explain, Thea,” Dr. Chen said. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I know that I ate, but I can’t remember eating. Does that make sense?”
She and Dr. Milton exchanged glances.
“Is that bad?”
“Not at all,” Dr. Milton said. He had a silver beard and a full head of hair the same color. He reminded me of Jeff Bridges but with Hugh Jackman’s accent. “Do you find you can describe many of your memories this way?”
“I can clearly remember things from before the accident. With details. But my time here…” I gave my head a shake. “The details are fuzzy. Maybe they’re not all back yet?”
Like Mom and Dad. They’re not back yet, either.
A soul-deep fear dug itself into my heart, and suddenly I lost my appetite.