“Come on.” He crossed the road and she followed him. He entered the forest, keeping his eyes open for anything, a dropped sweater, a broken branch, something. “When you came to…how far back in the woods were you? Can you remember?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I ran for a while, but I think I tired pretty quickly. I…I just can’t remember. I was so scared and not thinking clearly. My head was hurting so badly.”
“Do you remember anything that might stand out? A fallen tree, or a boulder, or a ravine? Something like that?”
She tried to think of anything like that and shook her head.
They searched for a long while. Steve finally stopped and looked over at her. “I think we should probably head back to the road, before we get lost back in here.”
Summer rubbed her upper arms and nodded. “It’s giving me the creeps being back in these woods and I’m more than ready to get out of them.”
When they made it back to the truck and Steve was starting it up, he turned to her and suggested, “I don’t want to frighten you, honey, but…”
“But what?” she prodded when he paused and looked out the driver’s window. “Steve, what?”
Being out in those woods, he couldn’t think of one plausible reason for her to have been out there, at least not in the area they had searched, if that was even the exact location. There was nothing up there. What could she have possibly been doing back in those woods? It’s not an area people hike, it wasn’t hunting season, there’s nothing up there to be sightseeing, no waterfall or cavern. And she wasn’t dressed for any of that. He turned reluctantly back to her. “Is it possible that someone brought you up here, dragged you out in the woods to…”
“To what?”
“To rape you, or kill you, but somehow you managed to get away.”
She turned from him to stare out the windshield and swallowed, “I do remember the unexplainable feeling of fear I had that night when my instincts were telling me to run.” She glanced around at the darkening woods. “Can we get out of here?”
“Absolutely.” He pulled onto the road and accelerated.
They were down into the valley before she turned to him and quietly clarified, “I wasn’t raped.”
Steve glanced over at her. He hadn’t been ready for that. “Babe-”
“I just want you to know that.”
He nodded. He didn’t know what to do with that. “Alright.”
“I’m sorry. This makes you uncomfortable.”
“I’m glad you weren’t, Summer. Damn glad. But I still think my theory holds water. At least, it’s one possibility.”
Later that evening, Summer decided to flip through the phone book, looking at all the ads for local business, trying to see if anything rang any bells. Steve was right. What had she been doing up in those woods? Did she live around here? Would anything in the surrounding area be familiar to her?
She sat at the kitchen table, flipping through each page of ads, one by one, studying every one until she got to the end of the phonebook. She slammed the book shut. This was futile. The whole search was futile. In an explosion of frustration, she shoved the phonebook violently off the table, taking the phone with it. They slammed to the floor with a bang and a clatter.
All this searching was for nothing. She had not one clue to go on. Not one. She’d never find out who she was. Never. She put her head down on the table and started to cry.
Steve heard the loud bang from the living room and got up. He stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene. The phone and phonebook scattered on the floor, Summer bent over the table, her shoulders shaking with her silent sobs.
He picked up the phone and quietly hung the receiver back in the cradle and set the phone on the table. Then he squatted down next to Summer’s chair. “Hey, sweetheart.” He pulled her around to face him. “Look at me.”
She shook her head, covering her face with her hands as a new series of sobs burst out.
Steve couldn’t bear to see her this way. He didn’t know how to help her. He wished he could fix everything for her, but the fact was, he couldn’t. Slowly, he stood up, pulling her into his arms. His hand cradled her head against his shoulder as she continued to cry. Her arms went around him and she clung tightly. He stroked the back of her head softly and gently rocked her.
He knew he couldn’t tell her that it was all going to be alright or that everything was okay. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel to suddenly have no past, no family, no friends, and no home. How totally alone she must feel. And even worse, to know that somewhere out there you had a life and a family that was probably searching for you.
“Summer.” He pulled back and tried to look in her eyes. “Listen to me. You’re not alone. I’m here for you. You don’t have to do this alone. I know this doesn’t feel like home to you, but I want you to know you can consider it your home, for as long as you want to stay. You hear me?” He shook her slightly.
She looked up at him and tried to smile. She nodded.
“Maybe…maybe if you stop trying so hard to remember, and just enjoy being here, and all the little day-to-day meaningless things in life, like…like…I don’t know…picking flowers, or roasting marshmallows.”
“Roasting marshmallows?” She let out a shaky little laugh.
It was a start, Steve thought. “Yeah, roasted marshmallows. Hey, at least I got you smiling again. Here I am trying to make this real serious speech and you’re laughing at me, woman.”
“Was there a point to that ‘serious speech’?” She giggled.
“Point? Oh, yeah. Well, I mean, maybe if you just stop thinking about it so much and trying so hard to remember, your memory will return on its own.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“If it doesn’t, then I guess you’ll just have to get used to the listening to the farm report every morning.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t stand the farm report. I hate that you change the station every time you walk in, by the way.”
He pulled her along, heading outside. “I know what you need. Did I ever tell you I make a mean marshmallow?”
Chapter Four
It was dinnertime on Friday night, and everyone was gathered at the dining room table.
“Is anyone going to town tomorrow?” Summer asked as she passed the bowl of potatoes. “There are a couple of things we are running low on.”
“I could take you to town, if you want,” Jessie offered.
“And I’ll give you some money for whatever we need,” Steve said. “Your pay, too. So, you’ll have some spending money.”
“Great. Thanks,” Summer replied to Steve, then turned to Jessie. “What time did you want to leave tomorrow?”
“I guess around nine or ten. Would that be okay?”
“Well, I’ll need to be back in time to make lunch,” Summer replied.
“Hey, why don’t you ladies have lunch in town? No need to rush back. We can take care of ourselves for lunch,” Steve suggested.
“Are you sure?” Summer asked.
“Sure.”
*****
Jessie and Summer drove into town the next morning. It was a beautiful day, they had the windows rolled down, and Shania Twain was singing about feeling like a woman. Jessie parked in one of the diagonal parking spots on Main Street, and they climbed out.
“Where do you want to start?” Jessie asked.
“I need to go to the drugstore first, then maybe we could check out some of the other shops?” Summer suggested, shutting the car door. She had her first week’s pay tucked into the front pocket of her jeans, and she intended to spend it all!
“Yeah, I need a few things in the drugstore, too,” Jessie agreed, slamming her car door and reaching in the back for her purse.
They entered the drugstore and made a beeline for the cosmetics department. Summer picked out a tube of mascara and a lipstick, and Jessie chose a new eye shadow.
They tried on sunglasses and made funny faces at each other, until they each found a pair they liked. Summer picked out a cheap wristwatch. Then they headed to the counter to pay. Jessie grabbed a fashion magazine, and Summer added a bestseller paperback to her items.
“Were there any special stores you wanted to go to?” Summer asked Jessie, as they stepped back out onto the street.
“I wanted to check out the music store.”
“Okay. I wanted to browse a little. How about if we meet at the diner for lunch in say, an hour? Then, after lunch we can hit the grocery store on the way out of town. That way the ice cream won’t melt,” Summer suggested, waggling her eyebrows and smiling.
“Sounds good,” Jessie agreed and then her smile turned to a frown as she saw something over Summer’s shoulder.
“What is it?” Summer twisted to look. Jessie stepped closer to the telephone pole on the corner, and Summer followed her. There, tacked up to it was a white piece of copy paper with the words “Missing” written across the top and a photo and some information below. “Who is that?”
“The waitress from Margie’s diner, Darleen Johnson. It says she’s been missing since Sunday night.” Jessie turned to look at Summer. “That’s the same night you woke up in the woods, isn’t it? Weird, huh?”
Summer studied the picture of the pretty young waitress. “Yes, it is. I hope she’s okay.”
“Yeah.” Jessie studied the photo for another minute. “Well, I guess we better get moving.”
They checked their watches and went their separate ways.
Summer wandered down the sidewalk, window-shopping. She passed a jewelry store, a shoe store and a dentist’s office. She stopped when she came to the next shop. There were many items displayed in the window, such as antique jewelry, china, lamps, etc.
Summer looked at the words painted on the glass,
Miss Myra’s Resale Shop
. A small bell tinkled above her as she opened the door and stepped inside. An elderly woman at the counter looked up. She had gray hair pulled back in a bun and a pair of glasses hanging around her neck by a gold chain.
“Good morning, dear,” the woman greeted her. “It’s a hot one out there today, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am. It sure is,” Summer agreed. She began browsing through the store. There were racks of clothing toward the back that drew her attention. Wandering deeper into the store, Summer found a rack of women’s blouses and tops against the back wall. She pulled out several sleeveless blouses, tank tops, and short sleeve tee shirts. She brought her selections to the counter.
“Did you find everything you were looking for, dear?” the elderly woman asked.
“Well, I found several tops, but I do need a purse. Do you have any of those for sale?” Summer responded.
“Oh, yes. I believe I do. Come with me.” The woman came around the counter and waddled down an aisle. “I have several back here on this shelf,” she said over her shoulder.
Summer looked over the selection and picked up a brown macramé bag. She looked at the price. “Yes, this will do.”
They headed back to the counter, and the woman totaled up Summer’s purchases, putting them in a brown paper grocery sack.
“You’re new around here, aren’t you, dear?” the woman asked.
“Yes. I’m staying out at the Garrett farm,” Summer explained.
“Oh! You must be that woman that lost her memory,” the woman exclaimed, putting her hands to her cheeks.
“Yes. I’m afraid that’s me,” Summer confirmed.
“You poor dear! Oh, I feel so sorry for you. How awful that must be.”
Summer just smiled, not knowing what to say.
“I’m sorry, dear. It’s a small town, and that story has circulated all over town.”
“I understand.”
“I’m Myra.” The woman extended her hand, and Summer shook it. “So, how do you like our little town so far, dear?”
“It’s lovely, and the people have been so nice to me. The Garrett’s were kind enough to give me a place to stay and a job cooking and cleaning until my memory comes back. If not for them, I would have ended up in a shelter.”
Myra nodded her head. “You know, dear, I’ve known Steve a long time. He’s a good man, a real good man. And don’t listen to any of the gossip you may have heard around town, either.”
“Gossip?” Summer repeated, not understanding.
“Yes, dear, about his wife. Did you know she disappeared years ago?”
“Well, yes. He told me a little about that. It was such a sad story.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Do you know what happened to her?” Summer asked.
“Me, dear? Heavens, no, only that she came to town one day, and no one knows what happened to her. But…”
“But, what?” Summer prompted her.
Myra leaned close over the counter. She glanced around even though Summer didn’t think there were any other customers in the shop. Myra whispered, “Well, people…busybodies, mostly, they think maybe Steve had something to do with it.”
“What? Why?” Summer asked disbelievingly.
“Well…just between you and me…they used to fight a lot, and there was talk of another man,” Myra explained with her eyebrows raised.
“Really?” Summer asked.
Myra put her hand to her chest. “I never believed a word of it, mind you. If you could have seen him, why, he was devastated, I tell you. No, I believe that man loved his wife, completely. He’s been a different man since her disappearance,” Myra finished, shaking her head sadly.
Summer didn’t know what to say.
“But he’s done a good job raising his daughter on his own. It must be very hard, and he must be very lonely, though he’s never dated since…” Myra broke off as she studied Summer a moment, and then came around the counter, taking her by the hand. “Come with me, dear,” she said, pulling Summer along.
She stopped at a rack of cardigan sweaters and began flipping through hangers until she found one she liked, and pulled it out. She threw it over her arm and moved to another rack of summer dresses. She eyed Summer up and down, and then made her selections. Then she shoved Summer toward a tiny dressing area, with a drawstring curtain. “Try those on, dear,” she ordered.
“But, ma’am-” Summer started to protest.
“Myra. And don’t start. I insist.”
Summer tried the first dress on and looked in the mirror. She couldn’t believe how feminine she looked. It was a dress she never would have even considered trying on herself, but it looked beautiful on her. It was a white, eyelet sundress with a full skirt and little spaghetti straps.