Chapter Two
Rowan opened her eyes when her alarm went off.
The sun was low in the sky, way far to the left in her windows, heading for the horizon, and she lay there for a long moment, just taking in what she could see of the view from the bed.
It also made her realize that she’d have a front row seat for the sunrise, if she was up early enough.
Pushing herself to a sitting position, she stretched her muscles gently, taking stock.
She felt better. Less exhausted. It wasn’t uncommon for her to wake up with a headache after a nap, but today, she felt good.
She could hear muffled conversation coming from downstairs, some music playing on a low volume, and then laughter rang out, bringing a smile to Rowan’s lips.
A quick trip to the bathroom to fix her hair and her face, and she headed downstairs.
“There she is,” Stevie said, her face bright and her voice strong.
Rowan smiled and lifted her hand in a small wave. “Hi, everybody. Sorry.”
“Oh my God, don’t be sorry.” Lizzie Becker came around the kitchen island and wrapped her in a hug. Justine DiGiovanni didn’t let her wife get in her way, and she wrapped Rowan up from behind, the two of them making a Rowan sandwich.
“You look amazing,” Justine said, her lips close to Rowan’s ear. “How are you feeling?”
“Not bad,” Rowan said, internally wondering when people would stop asking her that. “The nap helped.”
“Good,” Lizzie said, then briefly touched Rowan’s face. “What can we get you? Justine’s getting burgers ready for the grill. We’ve got salad and potatoes. Beer. Wine.”
Behind her, Stevie was holding up a bottle of the non-alcoholic beer she’d brought for her, and Rowan nodded. “Perfect.” She was still on some medication, so she tried to limit the alcohol, but the NA would let her feel like she was part of the crowd.
She looked around at this group of friends, people she’d known for years. There was now a gap in her memory around each of them, but she forced her brain to remind her of what she did know.
Stevie—salt of the earth, as her grandmother would say.
The best person Rowan knew. Easily. Kind, surprisingly soft heart.
Tough when she needed to be. She was the person who would stop her truck in the middle of the road to move a turtle to the shoulder so it didn’t get run over.
She was the person you called when you needed something heavy moved or you locked yourself out or you just needed a hug. She was humanity personified.
Becca—a nice person most of the time. Could be abrasive, especially when drinking. Appreciated the beauty of a woman, sometimes to her own detriment. Never one to settle down with one, though that had apparently changed with Jasmine. Biting sense of humor.
Jasmine was a wild card. Rowan didn’t know her, which meant she also didn’t have a memory gap around her. She was actually the first new person Rowan had met since the accident—not counting medical personnel—and that was somehow a relief.
Lizzie—raucous. The life of the party, always.
Loud. Brash. But a decent human. She’d be the one on the water skis, on the inner tube, inventing a drinking game.
If you were throwing a party, Lizzie was the person you wanted to be sure to invite.
She’d keep things fun, and she’d give Becca a run for her money as far as who was louder, funnier, and more obnoxious.
Justine—the calm to Lizzie’s storm. Probably why they worked so well together. Content to sit back quietly and let her wife have the spotlight, gentle smile on her face. Food was love. If she made you your favorite meal or brought you a sandwich, you mattered to her.
These were important people in her life, people who had known her for quite some time, most of them.
And this was when the gaps in her memory took a toll, angered her.
She hated that there were things about them, things that had happened to them—both positive and negative—that she didn’t know.
Or rather, she didn’t know any longer. Things they’d done together, conversations they’d had, secrets they’d shared.
Stevie met her gaze from across the room and mouthed, okay? Rowan smiled and nodded and did her best to tug her thoughts back to the present moment.
The evening went on, Rowan exceedingly glad she’d come.
She was able to put some pieces of her memory back in place.
It was so weird, to have forgotten things that were commonplace, that everybody else knew, and as usually happened, she stopped asking questions and simply listened, filed away stuff that was new to her, sometimes jotting things in the Notes app on her phone to ask Stevie about later.
Things like how she remembered Justine having two tattoos on her left arm, but now she had an entire sleeve, and when did that happen?
Also, Lizzie’s septum piercing was new to Rowan… but was it new new?
Despite the holes in her memory, though, she was happy to be sitting around the fire pit with her friends. The nights were slightly cooler by the lake than they were at home in the city, but the fire took care of that.
“Here you go, m’lady,” Stevie said softly as she handed over a long stick with a marshmallow on the end. “Toast away.”
She did, rolling the marshmallow slowly, high over a flickering flame so it toasted evenly.
“That’s gonna take forever, Ro,” Lizzie said. “Stick it down in there.”
Justine laughed and put a hand on her wife’s arm. “Leave her alone. Not everybody wants a hunk of charcoal on their s’more.”
“It’s the best, though.” Lizzie pouted.
“I’m with Lizzie,” Becca said. “Char that sucker.”
“I’m Team Rowan,” Jazzy said, tossing Rowan a soft smile. “Golden brown, am I right?”
“Exactly,” Rowan said, still spinning the stick slowly in her hand.
When it had finally reached perfect toasted status, Stevie was right there with the graham crackers and chocolate, and she held out the bottom.
Rowan set her marshmallow on top of the little square of chocolate, and Stevie set the top graham cracker down and squeezed as Rowan pulled the stick away.
When she handed the whole thing over, it looked like a television commercial version of a s’more, melty and perfect.
“Nice,” Jazzy commented, shooting her a thumbs-up from across the fire.
Lizzie just shook her head in mock disgust, making Rowan laugh as she took a bite, then oohed and aahed over how good it was.
“So, Rowan.” She could tell by the way Justine’s tone had clicked over to serious that the questions were about to begin.
It was okay. She’d been expecting them, but she felt herself brace a little, just the same.
“How’s the memory thing? Like…” She glanced at her wife.
“We just kind of got bits and pieces. What…do you remember?” She waved a hand.
“And you don’t have to answer. Truly. I’m just being nosy. ”
Rowan smiled at her and hoped it was reassuring. “You’re not being nosy. I don’t mind questions.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t remember the accident or anything for about three years, maybe three and a half, before it. It’s a giant hole.”
“God,” Jazzy said quietly.
“Dude, that sucks,” Becca said, shaking her head.
All eyes were on her now, Rowan could feel them even if she hadn’t looked up and met them all, one set at a time.
“It’s been hard. But I do my best to fill in the blanks when I can.
” She held up her phone and tipped it from side to side.
“If something comes up in a group conversation, like here, and I don’t remember it, I jot it down to ask somebody about later.
” Her eyes rested on Stevie. “Stevie’s been taking the bulk of my inquiries,” she said with a grin.
“That’s gotta be so weird,” Justine said. “Man.”
“Has there been anything huge?” Becca asked, and Rowan felt more than saw the look Stevie shot her.
“A few things, yeah. My grandma died a year and a half ago, but that’s gone from my memory, so when my mom told me, it was like losing her all over again.”
“Oh, God, Ro.” Lizzie’s voice was tender and sweet. “I’m so sorry. That had to be rough.”
“Then there’s strange things, like my mom being three years older than I remember. Same with Kevin, my cat. I mean, I didn’t lose those years with them. I was there. But I don’t remember them, so it feels like I got robbed of some time. You know?”
“Wow.” Becca tipped her beer bottle to her lips and took a healthy slug. “I can’t even imagine.”
“And Evie,” she said softly, not realizing she was going to say her name until it had escaped her lips. “I don’t remember us breaking up.” She cleared her throat. “She was the first person I asked for in the hospital.”
The group went quiet around the fire, with the exception of small sounds of pity, little hums or murmurs.
The silence held, and just as it was about to border on uncomfortable, Lizzie asked loudly, “Well, what the fuck were you doing on a rickety ladder with nobody there to spot you anyway?” She turned to Stevie.
“Where the hell were you?” She gave Stevie a playful shove, indicating this was all fun and games.
“I know, right?” Stevie said. “I gave her hell, trust me.”
“From what I’ve been told, I was trying to clean my gutters on my own instead of spending the money to have somebody do it.” Rowan shrugged.
Justine and Jasmine said in unison, “Spend the money,” and everybody laughed.
“Now you tell me,” Rowan said, joining them.
“So…will your lost memories come back?” Justine’s voice was soft, like almost everything she said.
“They could.” Rowan took a sip of her beer. “They might. Some things have. Like, Kevin’s bag of food was a different brand than I remembered when I got home. About a week later, I remembered that he’d had some stomach issues about a year ago, and his vet had me switch.”
“And the garage door code,” Stevie said, pointing at her.