Chapter 7
Her
Wanda was a surprise.
For starters, she was radiantly beautiful, looking far younger than her years. I guessed, solely by her hands, that she was maybe ten to fifteen years older than me, with long blond hair, light blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a dazzling smile.
Beyond that, she was trim and fit, and there was a bounce to her step. I’d had this preconceived notion that anyone named “Wanda” who owned a diner in a small town in Idaho was gonna look…well…weathered. Worn down by a hardscrabble life. But Wanda appeared to be thriving.
“Nice to meetcha,” she said with that warm and welcoming smile when Cash made the introductions at the counter of her midsize diner. “Can I get you somethin’ to eat, Maddy?”
Conscious of the fact that I had zero dollars to my name, I politely declined. And then my stomach rumbled. Loudly.
She grinned anew and winked at Cash. Pointing to a pair of barstools, she said, “Come on, sit down, you two. I’ve got some chili simmering, and I can have Gus whip you up a grilled cheese, if you’d like.”
The words “grilled cheese” hit me like a bright light coming on in a darkened room, and I tried to stare into it, hoping the illumination would spread, but all I could make out were shadows.
“Maddy?” Cash asked. “You okay?”
I blinked. “I…yeah. Yeah. I’m…fine. It’s just…”
Cash and Wanda were both staring at me expectantly, but I didn’t know how to explain something I didn’t myself understand.
“Just what?” Wanda prodded.
“Grilled cheese,” I said, forcing a smile that I knew must’ve looked like a grimace. Why couldn’t I remember the context? Why would a sandwich send a jolt of something almost recognizable into my mind?
“You don’t like them? We have other sandwiches, hon. How about a BLT?”
“No!”
Her eyes widened and I felt like an asshole.
“I mean, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…I actually want a grilled cheese. I think…I think they’re a favorite of mine?”
My voice went up an octave, like I was asking myself the question as I spoke the words out loud.
Cash and Wanda both tilted their heads back in understanding.
“Ahh,” Cash said. “That’s good, Maddy. You’re starting to remember things.”
I shrugged. “I guess. Wanda, I didn’t mean to snap at you. A cup of chili and a grilled cheese sandwich sound like heaven to me.”
She grinned again, bathing me in her generous warmth. “You got it, hon.”
She turned away and headed over to the window separating the kitchen from the front of the diner and spoke to someone—probably Gus, who I assumed was the short-order cook.
“Grilled cheese, huh?” Cash asked.
My gaze was on the countertop. I felt like my mind was chasing a rabbit that’d just gone down a hole. “Yeah. Weird, huh?”
“Nope. I love a good grilled cheese. And Gus makes a great one. It’s not food from Thailand, but I bet you’ll like it.”
I laughed. “I can’t believe you’ve never had Thai food.”
“Never been to Thailand,” he said simply.
“You don’t need to go to Thailand to get Thai food, Cash. You just need to go to . . .”
The name of a Thai restaurant was on the tip of my tongue, I swear. But it was like it was just out of reach, and as much as I stretched toward it, I couldn’t grab it to pull it closer.
“Go to…?” Cash prodded gently. I could tell he was hoping that I’d come up with just one verifiable fact—like the name of my favorite restaurant—that could point him in the direction of who I might be and where I’d come from.
And I wanted to give that to him so badly, but as much as I tried, it wouldn’t come.
I put my head in my hands. “I can’t remember. But I know it. I know I’ve been there.”
“To Thailand?”
I shook my head, then looked up again. “No. To a Thai restaurant.”
“Well, they got all sorts of food in Boise. Maybe that’s where you’re from.”
“I’m assuming you’ve checked, though, right?”
“Checked what?”
“Checked the missing persons logs for someone who looks like me who went missing in Boise.”
He nodded. “I have. Nobody fitting your description has gone missing. I even went back a few months, and nada.”
I sighed. “I’m scared shitless that I won’t ever remember.”
Cash pulled back his chin and made a face, like I’d spoken out of turn.
“What?”
He offered me a one-shoulder shrug. “You sure do like to cuss, Maddy.”
“Cuss? You mean swear?”
He nodded.
“That’s not normal?”
“Not around here. We’re a God-fearing town.”
I stared at him in confusion. Something about the revelation that Evansville was a “God-fearing” town set me off. Not angrily, but in a way that made me really uncomfortable. Maybe even scared for my safety. I’d have to be careful. I’d have to watch what I said.
“Sorry,” I offered. But I wasn’t. I felt like I liked to swear. And that made me wonder, given his reaction, was I an asshole? What if I was one of those people who swore just to get a rise out of others because I liked having that power?
I sighed, so frustrated. I didn’t just not remember my name; I didn’t remember who I was.
“Hey,” he said, misinterpreting the sigh. “It’s okay. Just rein in the cuss words and you’ll be all right. God’s in the forgivin’ business.”
Again, a jolt of alarm went through me. Did everyone in this town speak like that? Like they operated under His eye?
Wait, where had I heard that before? “‘Under His eye,’” I said, looking hopefully at Cash. Maybe he’d heard it too, and we could trace it to something connected to me.
“Under who’s eye?”
Damn. Swing and a miss. “Nobody’s. Sorry. These random thoughts keep coming to me without context. I’m just trying to work them out.”
Cash grunted, like he understood.
Wanda turned her attention back to us and asked, “Sodas?”
Cash nodded, so I did too. “I’ll take a Dr Pepper, Wanda.”
“That sounds great,” I agreed. It occurred to me that I loved Dr Pepper.
Wanda smiled kindly and headed over to the fountain to fill some glasses with ice and pop.
Pop, I thought. “Pop,” I repeated.
“You remember something?” Cash asked.
I pointed to Wanda. “She said ‘soda,’ but in my mind, I thought ‘pop.’ Is that a regional thing?”
Cash shrugged. “You hear both around here. One’s as common as the other.”
I sighed and put both hands to my forehead. I had a killer headache. The doctor told me I’d likely have them off and on for a while. “Why can’t I just remember?” I muttered.
“What’s that?”
I eyed the sheriff, feeling so dispirited.
“It’s so frustrating, Cash. I know I love Dr Pepper and grilled cheese sandwiches and Thai food, but if you asked me what my favorite color is, I don’t know that I could tell you. And I know my favorite actor is a toss-up between Neal McDonough and Daniel Craig,
but I don’t think I could name a movie either one has been in. And, worst of all, there’s someone I know I’m in love with. Someone I cry about at night, but I don’t know who or where he might be. I’m heartbroken over someone I don’t remember. It’s driving me crazy!”
“I bet,” he said. “But Maddy, it’s not gonna come if you try to force it. You gotta just let it come.”
My eyes stung with sudden tears. “But what if it doesn’t?”
He sighed as Wanda set down our drinks. “You can’t think like that. You gotta have hope. And patience.”
I pointed at him. “See, that’s the thing, Cash. I swear to God, I’m not a patient person, but I don’t know how I know that.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that there’s a clump of knowledge about yourself that you do know or remember, and a clump of knowledge about yourself that you can’t remember. Do I have that right?”
“Yes. That’s it. That’s it exactly.”
“Maddy, I don’t think the problem is as big as you think it is.
If you focus on the stuff that you know about yourself without having to think about it, you’ll start to build bridges into the clump of knowledge that you can’t remember.
The bridges are memories. Maybe some are really small, like little islands, and if you start to find them, then you can build bridges that connect those little islands until you reach the mainland of all your memories, and somewhere on that mainland is your true identity.
“I doubt it’s gonna be a situation where one day you wake up and just remember everything about yourself, but maybe you can start with the grilled cheese and work your way up from there.”
“Yeah, sure, Cash, I understand all that in theory, but in practice, how do I go about doing that?”
“Well, when you think about the craving for a grilled cheese sandwich, does anything else come to mind?”
I closed my eyes and inhaled a steadying breath.
I had to allow my mind to fill in some of the blanks without pushing too hard.
“Tomato soup,” I said, opening my eyes again.
“I like grilled cheese and tomato soup. Together. And I have this whisper of a memory from when I was a kid where I was really cold…like it was winter, and I’d been ice skating till my hands and feet were numb with cold…and when I got home, I had a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup,
and I felt warm again. And…happy.”
Cash’s lips broke into a toothy grin. “See? That’s a memory, Maddy! You found a bridge.”
“But I can’t remember anything visual. Like, I don’t know what our kitchen looked like, or my parents, or if I have siblings. It’s all so fuzzy.”
“It still counts,” the sheriff insisted. “Remember, little bridges between the islands are the goal. They’ll start to connect after you find enough of them.”
“Here you go!” Wanda announced, setting down our plates loaded with a grilled cheese sandwich, a cup of chili, and thick-cut fries. My mouth watered. I picked up one half of the sandwich and took a huge bite, then closed my eyes and allowed my mind to drift.
For a few seconds, nothing came to mind other than the delicious taste of gooey cheese and buttery bread, but then there was this fuzzy outline of something. Something I couldn’t really pull forward, but I had the sense of him. That man. The man I knew I was heartbroken over.
I couldn’t picture him, but there was something…a scent. “Gio.”
“What’s that?” Wanda asked, but then she immediately added, “Uh-oh. Here comes trouble.”
I opened my eyes and found both Wanda’s and Cash’s attention now turned toward the front of the diner.