Lost and Found – By Tori Mitchell #2
John shuffled out of the bathroom, nearly bumping into Alex in the hallway. "Sorry," he said gruffly, frowning at the woman who'd become his lifeline. It wasn't right to keep her here. "I shouldn't have asked you to come. You've got lots to do."
Alex shook her head and smiled. "I called one of my co-workers to reopen the library. They're covering my shift today. I can stay as long as I'm needed."
John fought the urge to wrap his arms around the petite woman. His gut said Alex was someone special. Most women wouldn't drop everything for a stranger. He felt blessed that he'd stumbled into her library, out of all the places in town—even if he didn't remember what brought him to Sunset Cove.
Together, they made their way back to his hospital bed. The emergency room was quiet now. It seemed like most of its patients had gone home.
Home , he thought. I'd like to go home. The only place that feels like home is Alex's library, though. He held back a laugh, imagining what Alex might say if he asked to sleep at the library until he got his bearings again.
The urge to laugh fell away as they stepped into his room. Officer Wells was waiting for them, sitting calmly on the guest chair next to his bed.
John paused for a moment, some unknown fear making him stop. He glanced at the officer's gun, holstered and safely away. John pushed aside his worries and cleared his throat. Maybe the police had answers now. "Have you figured out who I am?" he asked.
Officer Wells shook her head, looking him over from head to toe. She drummed a hand against the chair's armrest. "Sorry, we don't have any news. The doctor's discharged you, since you don't have any obvious medical problems."
"Other than the memory loss," he said, huffing out a laugh.
"The amnesia puts me in a tough spot," she agreed. "What do we do with you?"
John closed his eyes and waited to hear his fate. He needed a place to stay until his memories returned, or a family member came forward. That could take a long time.
"He'll come home with me," Alex said, stepping up to stand next to him.
John turned to stare at her. She’d done too much already. "You can't do that."
"You can't do that ," Officer Wells agreed, putting an emphasis on a different word. "We'll find suitable housing for John. I've called the men's shelter to ask if there's a bed available. It might take a few hours, though."
"Why can't he stay with me?" Alex demanded.
"My house was a bed-and-breakfast. I've got a half-dozen empty bedrooms, just waiting to be used.
John can stay with me until he gets his memory back or we figure out a long-term plan.
" She looked at John's bandaged forehead and frowned.
"He's got a brain injury. He doesn't belong in a homeless shelter. "
John bit back a smile. He admired Alex's spunk. She didn't seem afraid of anything—including men with amnesia who wandered into her library.
Staying with the pretty brunette might be a bad idea, but she had a valid point. He didn't have many options. If he pretended her home was still a bed-and-breakfast, it might be okay.
You shouldn't flirt with the owners of your hotel room. That would be rude.
Still, it seemed like fate had driven them together. Something felt right about spending time with Alex—even if he couldn't remember his own name.
"I'll work at the library," he volunteered quietly, turning to face Officer Wells. "I can help Alex, and I promise not to be a burden. Will the police keep trying to figure out what happened?"
Officer Wells pulled a phone out of her pocket, frowning as she scrolled through her messages.
"I've got my department watching for a missing person's report, but nothing's come up yet.
I'll follow up in a few days." She pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to John, then turned to Alex.
"Keep him calm. His brain needs time to heal. Call me if anything changes."
Alex nodded, pulling Officer Wells in for a hug. "Thanks for everything, Gabby. I'll be in touch."
John felt a sense of peace as they walked out of the hospital. He still wasn't sure why he'd stumbled into Alex's life, but he was in good hands.
He stared out the window as they drove back to the library, willing himself to recognize any of the buildings or landmarks.
The houses were pretty, and the ocean sparkled as they cruised close to the beach.
It looked like an ordinary beach town, though.
Lots of sand and plenty of tourists. It didn't remind him of home. Wherever that was.
John sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned back on the headrest. Life was confusing right now.
He felt more cheerful when they parked in front of the library. John still wasn't sure why books made him so happy. Was it the place itself, or its ties to Alex? No matter what it was, this building seemed more like home than anywhere else. He rushed forward to open the door for Alex.
"I've got some paperwork to fill out for the police. We can get dinner soon," Alex promised. She walked up to the desk and smiled at her co-worker. "John, this is Ashley Marino. She can help you if I'm busy."
"No rush," John said, giving Ashley and Officer Wells a friendly nod. He was grateful that the police officer had followed them to the library, rather than keeping him at the hospital.
He wandered over to the bookshelves, determined to stay out of Alex's way. Juvenile fiction, fiction, non-fiction—it was all here, waiting for readers to discover their next adventure.
When he came to a cart filled with books, he stopped. "I promised to help you," he called to the front. "Can I re-shelve these?"
"Oh, don't worry about that," Ashley said, rushing toward him and pulling the cart out of the aisle. "Most people don't understand our system. I'll put them away tomorrow morning."
John raised his eyebrows and held up a book from the top of the stack.
"'The Myth and Legend of Hercules,' JF 398.
2. That's the call number for myths and fairy tales, right?
It goes over there." He pointed toward the juvenile fiction section.
"I promise not to mix Hercules into Grimm's fairy tales. "
Alex's jaw fell. She dropped her pencil on the desk and dashed to John's side. "How do you know that? Are you remembering things?"
John blinked. How had he known where this book belonged?
Alex
Alex watched as John shelved every item on the returned-book cart. One by one, he found the right home for each book. The repetitive action seemed like second nature.
Gabby glanced back at Alex, her brow furrowed. "He knows how to put books away. Why is that such a big deal?"
"I think he's worked with libraries," Alex said, watching as he paused for a moment with a DVD in his hand.
They'd split the children's and adult DVDs into three areas—new release, older movies, and series collections.
He nodded briskly and headed in the right direction.
"Most people don't understand the Dewey Decimal system.
Honestly, lots of people struggle to find fiction books in alphabetical order. "
Gabby laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "Guilty," she admitted. "I put my books on the return cart. And I always need help finding my next book."
Alex stepped forward as a young girl approached John. To her surprise, John immediately knelt down and listened carefully to the child's question. They walked to the children's section together, and he quickly found a book to hand to her. She hugged the book to her chest and grinned.
"He's good with children, too," Alex noted.
John walked over to the women, a smile stretched from ear to ear. "You've got cute patrons. I love working with kids." He held a hand on his head, as if the thought gave him a headache. "I'm not sure why."
Alex put a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "This is a good sign. Hopefully, you'll remember your name and a few other details soon." She glanced at the clock. It was past closing time. "Go relax in the chair by the window. You're supposed to be resting."
But John shook his head. "I'd like to keep working. I need to earn my keep."
The women watched as John returned to his task. Alex shrugged. "He's a hard worker. We're going to get along just fine."
She looked over as the door's bell chimed. Pastor Rick Harris walked into the library, a stack of papers clutched in his hand. Pastor Rick led the local Lutheran church and the town's Kindness Committee.
"Hello!" he greeted the women. "The hospital called me. I've spoken to the men’s shelter, and they're willing to house him for a night or two."
Alex groaned. The shelter again? John wasn't homeless. Based on his behavior and well-groomed appearance, John had a home waiting for him. He just... didn't know where that house was.
"He's staying with me," she blurted. "I've got all those extra rooms."
"Are you sure?" The pastor glanced at his paperwork, his brow furrowing with concern.
"We could get a hotel room for him, but the doctor doesn't want him alone until his memory returns.
Unless someone comes forward to identify him, he should be under supervision.
I can't ask you to house a stranger, though. "
Alex shook her head, insulted that he'd implied she couldn't handle one man with amnesia. "I trust him. He seems like a nice guy. Besides, the church says we're supposed to shelter the homeless and feed the hungry. That's all I'm doing." She raised her eyebrows, daring the pastor to turn her down.
Pastor Rick sighed and nodded. "You shouldn't do this alone, but I can't stop you. You've got my number. I'll drop some clothes from our community closet on your porch."
"Thanks," Alex said, watching as John cheerfully wheeled the library cart back behind her desk. "I can handle this." She turned to Officer Wells, a question coming to her mind. "John's afraid of your gun, though. Should I be worried about that?"