Anna led Thea around, introducing her to the people who had been taking care of her for two years.
“And this is Nurse Sarah,” Anna said. “You remember her?”
“I do,” Thea said. “Hi, Sarah.” The doctors all bent their heads to take notes as Thea threw her arms around the nurse’s neck. “I’m so happy to meet you. Again and for the first time.” She laughed, a ripple of pure joy that filled the rec room. “I remember all of this. All of you. It’s like a dream slowly coming back.”
My goddamn eyes stung, and I bowed my head, jaw clenched. The last time I’d cried was at Grandpa Jack’s funeral and I hadn’t done it since. But the tears that tried to get me now were different. Good. So good they scared me.
But I didn’t cry. I never cried. Thea was okay. She was there and she was okay. Free. I didn’t need anything more.
I can walk out of here with my head up.
I turned to go.
“I think that’s everyone,” Anna said. “Dr. Milton, would you like to—”
“Guns N’ Roses,” Thea said suddenly as if the name had been on the tip of her tongue and she’d just found it.
I froze.
“Sweet Child O’ Mine,” Thea said. “Oh my God, I remember.”
I turned around. Thea was walking between all the people, wending her way toward me. Her eyes wide and taking me in, a shy smile on her lips.
“And… Lady Gaga. One of my faves.”
My heart stopped then jolted again, double-time. Delia was scowling, but now Thea was singing softly, “I want your love. Love love love…”
She was all there. Standing right in front of me.
I waited for our usual script—one that we’d played out a hundred times.
How long has it been?
The doctors are working on my case.
Can I call you Jimmy? You have kind eyes…
“Hi,” Thea said.
I swallowed hard. “Hi.”
She cocked her head. Her gaze roamed my face, my eyes, my mouth, studying me. “You’re Jimmy. Right?”
I wasn’t wearing a nametag. Rita had pulled me out of the break room before I could put it on.
“Yeah.” My voice was gruff. “That’s me.”
Thea’s smile broke free, like a goddamn sun after a decade of gray clouds and rain. She stuck out her hand and said, “It’s nice to officially meet you, Jimmy.”
I had no words. None I could trust. I took her hand, soft and warm in mine, and she gave it her signature, one-pump shake.
“Wow, this is crazy,” she said with a laugh, glowing with happiness. “Crazy and good and just…”
“A miracle,” I breathed.
“Yeah. Exactly.” She moved closer to me, as if we were alone instead of in a room full of people. “And I was right.”
“About wh-what?”
“About you.”
Her smile was brilliant, shy, and bold all at once. She still hadn’t let go of my hand. “You aren’t just a dream at all.”
Part II
Chapter 19
Thea
I open my eyes for the first time…
A hospital room, gauzy white in my blurred vision. Doctors surrounded me. One, a pretty young woman named Dr. Chen, told me I’d had surgery to restore my memory. I nodded that I understood, but I didn’t. Not truly. My memory had been lost? They said I had only a few minutes of consciousness, but that made no sense. I was always there. Awake and asleep. What they called my amnesia to me felt like an endless dream in a tiny, airless box. The surgery pulled me out, woke me up. I could breathe again. Think again.
I’m alive…
Joy suffused me like adrenaline.
Another doctor, this one with an Australian accent, asked me questions:
Did I remember my name? Date of birth?
Yes and yes.
Did I remember the car accident?
No.
I remembered the four of us—me, Delia, Mom and Dad—in the foyer, taking a photo on my phone. For Delia’s… graduation. Yes. She was wearing a cap and gown.
That memory was one bookend. The other was the hospital, and in between, empty books with their pages slowly filling back up with words. The pages were being filled in, lines at a time, cued by words or scents or the snippet of a song. One familiar face blowing open a whole new avenue of memories.
Delia stayed by my side for the two days I was in the hospital. My sister looked like she’d aged more than the two years I’d been gone. Every time she hugged me tight, she stared at me as if I were an alien life form. Everyone stared at me—specialists, nurses—while I stared at this life that was so much brighter and richer than I’d remembered.
“When are Mom and Dad coming?” I asked.
“Soon,” Delia said. “Get some rest.”
I was so tired from the surgery. I wanted to sleep, but I was scared if I closed my eyes, it would all disappear.
I don’t want to sleep ever again. I want to live.
But I slept and woke, and all that had come back was still there.
I was still here.
When I was well enough, I was taken back to Blue Ridge Sanitarium, which, apparently, had been my home for the last two years. Everything about the old building was strange and familiar at the same time. The sights and smells. The wood and the dust. The disinfectant and the potpourri. I moved through a perpetual fog of déjà vu.
“I know this place,” I said in the foyer, standing in front of a still-life painting of fruit in a bowl. “I know this picture, too.”
It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The way the light falls over the curve of the apple…
The words were my own. I’d been talking to someone in front of this picture. A man. Tall. Dark hair. Dark jacket. I could almost see him… A mirage in my vast desert of nothingness.
They took me upstairs to the rec room and there he was.
He stood near the door. In white, not black, but he was there, looking as if he were about to leave. I recognized the angle of his jaw and the softness of his eyes. Another flood gate of memories opened up. Sun-drenched afternoons. Music. This man sang to me. He played my favorite dance songs on his phone for me. He saved me when—
I brushed that dark memory aside. I’d deal with it later. The same way I’d deal with whatever Delia wasn’t telling me about our parents. Later.
As I crossed the room, more came back to me—sun and music and… paint. Yes. He brought me paint. A canvas. He brought me back to life…
And now I stood in front of him, my heart pounding like a drum.
Holy crap, he was gorgeous. Beautiful brown eyes. Stubble along his square chin. Muscle and strength and gentleness too.
“Hi,” I said. This guy made me shy, and I had never been shy in my life.
I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard and said, “Hi.”
That’s Jim. The name bubbled up from the recesses of my mind.
I saw it carved in black letters on white plastic. A nametag. But he wasn’t wearing a nametag and I hadn’t needed it anyway. I remembered his name on my own. Just as I remembered it wasn’t Jim, but…
“You’re Jimmy. Right?”
“Yeah. That’s me.”