Shit. I look at my phone. It’s eight-thirty. I’ve been running for well over an hour. As though my mom feels my panic, her name flashes on my screen as my phone vibrates.
“I have to go. It was very nice seeing you again,” I say before hugging Ethel and smiling at Dori. I’ve decided I’m not pretending to know someone if I don’t anymore. It’s weird to hug people when we both know I have no clue who they are.
“Are you okay?” Ethel asks, and I step backward a few feet.
“Great, I just have to finish my run and get back to my mom at the inn.”
“We can drive you,” Dori suggests.
I raise my hand to say that’s okay. I turn around to head into the woods when a semi crosses over the hill and blares his horn when he sees me in the road. I stand there as if I’m made of stone.
“Lucy! Get out of the street!” Ethel screams.
I look over at her and snap out of it, dashing to the side of the road. But I’m not on the trail, and I fall down into a ditch that’s all muddy from the recent snowmelt. The semi passes by with a whoosh and I lie back, not wanting to get up out of sheer embarrassment.
The two old women peer over the edge of the road at me.
“Do you not remember that semis can squish you like a pancake?” Dori asks.
I sit up, looking at my clothes, now caked in mud. My phone vibrates again. “Yes, I do remember. It just took me by surprise.”
Honestly, I wish I had an answer to why I froze just now. As sad as it is, I’ve wondered if I hit my head again, would my memory resurface? I know, stupid, but late at night when I’m trying so hard I give myself a migraine, I fear I’ll never be who I was.
“I should call Adam,” Ethel says.
“No!” I yell and climb up from the ditch.
“Well, we’re at least taking you with us,” Ethel says.
I can’t refuse their offer now.
Of course, these veteran mothers are prepared with towels in the back of the car. I don’t ask why though. They lay them out for me and I slide into the back seat, relieved to at least have a ride back to the inn.
Until Ethel slams her foot on the gas and my head hits the back of the seat.
Dori peers over the passenger seat. “You remember me now?”
I shake my head.
“Didn’t think so.” She turns forward and I send a text to my mom, saying I’ll be there shortly.
Mom: It’s fine. I packed my bags. Please pack yours. I’m going to meet Adam and his father for coffee and then we’ll leave.
My stomach sinks while I stare at the text message. She can’t be serious. Adam was my first breakthrough in weeks. I hammer out a message.
Me: No. Please wait. I’m coming and then I’ll go with you.
Mom: Sweetie, it’s 8:45 now, I don’t want to be late.
Me: Call them and ask to push it back.
Mom: Truth is, it’s better if you just don’t go. Let me handle this. You had a tough day yesterday.
I clench my phone. She’s going to leave me out of this, and now I’ve fallen in mud and have to shower before I can join them. I don’t like all these people making decisions on my behalf.
“Take me to town,” I say to Ethel.
Ethel glances at Dori. It’s clear they’re having some weird conversation with just their eyebrows.
“Sure,” Ethel says. “Anywhere specific?”
“Where people would meet for coffee?”
“That’s vague,” Dori says but looks back at me. “Do you remember what coffee is?”
I stare at her blankly. “Yes, I know what coffee is. I just need to find my mom, Adam, and Mr. Greene.”
“Oh,” Ethel says and her and Dori’s eyebrows go in all different directions. “Why?”
“Because this is my life and so what if I don’t remember anything? I’m going to eventually. One day I’ll find out exactly why my mom and Adam don’t like one another, why I’d leave Adam and go to my parents, and everything else about who Lucy Davis was. Or is.”
“You mean Lucy Greene,” Dori says.
Shit. I never thought about that. I am Lucy Greene, but only until Adam divorces me.
We pull into downtown and I reposition my ponytail, trying to look halfway presentable.
As I step out of the Cadillac in the parking lot behind the square, a minivan pulls up beside the car and a woman flies out, swarming me. “Lucy, Lucy!”
My back presses against the car as she tackles me and hugs me so tightly, I struggle to breathe. Pulling back, she holds my forearms, looking me over.
Then her face transforms into a scowl and her pointer finger is right in front of my face. “You leave me again and so help me God, I will sucker punch you right between the legs.”
I squeeze my thighs together on instinct, but the only thing I’m happy about is that I recognize her. “Cora.”
She’s a little older than I remember, but her strawberry-blonde hair and freckled face still holds youthfulness.
“She remembers her, but not me?” Dori says from next to us.
“Hello, Ethel. Dori.” Cora tips her head in greeting. A crying baby sounds from the minivan and Cora backs up. “Sorry, give me a moment.” She pulls out a baby and settles it on her hip.
“You have a baby?”
Her smile dims.
I hate that reaction. As though I’m disappointing people.
“Yeah, Luce, I married Toby, remember? And I was pregnant when you left.”
My heart sinks. I don’t remember such milestones in one of my best friend’s lives. But I do know that there was never a thing I kept from Cora, so maybe she can help me regain some of my memories.
“Can we talk in a bit? Are you busy?” I ask.
“It’s story time at the bookstore. It’s Brody’s favorite time of day. But after, you can come over while he takes a nap?”
“You should go to story time with them,” Ethel says.
“Next time. I have to get to the coffee shop.”
“Just go in for a second. In the meantime, I’ll find Hank and Adam for you.” Ethel pulls out her cell phone.
Cora’s already got her stroller out and is placing her son inside. “Walk with me. You were gone last night before I could catch up with you. We arrived a half hour after the action, from what I heard.”
We round the corner into the town square and it’s just like last night but not nearly as crowded. Cora stops in front of a bookstore next to the brewery. I look inside.
“Presley?” I ask, remembering the woman inside from last night.
“You know her?” Cora acts surprised.
“I met her last night. She looks so much like Clara.”
“Oh yeah. That’s a whole thing I’ll have to fill you in on when we catch up.”
“So Cade, huh?”
She nods. “She just whirled into town and put a sold sign on the man. Another Greene off the market.” Her smile dims again.
I want to say ‘stop it. I’m fine. Don’t feel sorry for me.’
“Of course, you were the first to get a Greene man off the market,” she says, elbowing me.