Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

T he horizon began to lighten with pale pinks and lavender streaks out where the ocean met the sky. Slowly the stars faded, the sun made its way to the very edge of the earth and continued to climb, bringing with it a new day. Mia had hoped that the dawn would make her feel better; instead, it filled her with dread. She'd have to tell Kyle about what happened in the very early hours of the morning, and she knew he'd be angry with her for not waking him up then.

She heard someone moving around downstairs. She could only assume it was Sibby, who had prepped the turkey the night before and had planned to put it up to roast early in the day. While this kitchen had two wall ovens, Sibby's plan of attack for the meal included using both. Mia knew that it would be a busy morning and that if she wanted to bake off those cinnamon rolls, she'd better get down there soon. She glanced over at Kyle. He was still asleep. She quietly pushed the blanket off her body and was about to put on her fuzzy socks once more when she heard him stir.

"Mia?" he questioned. "Where are you going? It's early."

"I was going to help Sibby. I think I heard her put the turkey in the oven."

"Right. But she usually goes back to bed after she does that. No one else is up yet. Even Daisy is still asleep. Come back and lay down with me. This is the best time of the day."

Last night's event sat heavily on Mia's chest. She knew she had to tell Kyle about the mysterious man on the driveway, but she recognized that once she did, all hell would break loose. What difference will it make if I tell him later? That man is gone. Maybe he was just lost, trying to figure out how to get wherever he was supposed to be. Maybe he wasn't looking for me. Why ruin the holiday that the entire family was looking so forward to?

She was building a defense in her mind for keeping this news secret just a little bit longer when he reached out his hand, beckoning her back to his warmth and the safety of their bed. "Just for a little while. I have cinnamon rolls to bake," she told him as she sat back down on the mattress. He pulled her to his side.

"Oh, right. I was supposed to get up and put the dinner rolls in the downstairs refrigerator for you. I guess I didn't hear my alarm."

"No worries," she said as she fit herself against him, her head on his shoulder, his arm snaked around her waist. "I was up, so I did it."

"You went down to the dark basement yourself?" he teased. "See any ghosts?"

It was her opening to tell him the truth, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. "No ghosts. Just that creepy boiler clicking on as I hit the last step. I almost had a heart attack."

He chuckled. "Yeah. When we were kids, we'd dare each other to go down there at night. Sibby was the bravest of all of us. She never got scared."

"Why am I not surprised?" Mia asked. "Your sister can do anything she sets her mind to. She's got that oldest daughter vibe. I'm so impressed by her resolve in all things."

"It's a family trait, I hope," he said. "I like to think that we all have a bit of that." He began to trace a light pattern against her hip with the tip of his fingers. "When I was first put on leave, that's what got me through it. Without my family reinforcing my hope that I would make it out to the other side of that entire mess, I don't know what would have happened to me. It was bad enough as it was, I mean, you saw the condition of my condo that first day you got there. I was a mess, and my home reflected my state of mind. Without my family believing in me, telling me repeatedly that I'd be cleared of the charges, I don't know if I would have made it through. Then you showed up and I felt that old resolve returning. You gave me a reason to want to be better, to do my job better, to absolutely be the man I always knew I was – I am."

"Kyle. You shouldn't doubt yourself. You might be the best man I've ever known. I don't want to think about what might have happened if it wasn't you at the scene of my accident."

"Just to be clear, Mia, it's not like you remember the other men in your life. I don't currently have much competition," he teased.

She felt a chill run up her spine and she shivered. That man from last night. Was he familiar to her or was she imagining that she knew him somehow?

"Are you cold?" he asked. "I know what we can do to warm you up." He brushed his lips against her cheek with a feather-light kiss.

Just then they both heard Daisy cry out.

"Give her a minute," Mia said. "Maybe she'll fall back asleep."

When the cry became a wail, he said, "Let me get her and bring her in here. You're cold, I'm not. I'll be right back."

He got out of bed and Mia rolled over onto the warm spot he left behind. She pulled the blanket up under her chin. She was filled with dread. She had to tell him. She had to tell him now.

Kyle returned to their room with a happy Daisy. He'd changed her diaper and removed her sleep sack; she was kicking her feet and cooing at him simultaneously.

"Here you go," he said handing Mia the baby. "I'm just going to brush my teeth. I'll be right back."

She sat up, took her daughter into her arms, and unzipped the sweatshirt she still had on from last night's adventure. She brought the baby to her breast and willed herself to be calm. Daisy latched on immediately and Mia closed her eyes. She saw the lights on the driveway, the man in the hoodie on his phone, the car backing away. It was as if this nightmare was on a loop, repeating in her mind endlessly. She felt the mattress dip and realized that Kyle was back. She was about to tell him when he reached over and kissed the top of Daisy's head before running his fingers along the trail of milk leaking from the nipple of her other breast. He locked eyes with her as he put his wet fingers in his mouth and sucked. It was a simple gesture, but it sent shock waves to the center of her being. If I tell him, will I lose him? If I tell him, will he forgive me?

In the end, it didn't matter. As Daisy happily drank her breakfast, Kyle pushed himself out of bed.

"I think it's best if I shower. If I stay here now, Daisy might see some things she should never see."

"Okay," Mia said, feeling the same electric current between them that he felt. "Maybe I'll shower after she's done? Will you be able to watch her for a bit?"

"Of course. But take your time. Daisy and I are old friends now. She'll be fine."

"I know. Thanks," she said, but in her mind, she grappled with the dilemma at hand. The opportunity to tell him had passed. She would need to find a time and a way to divulge the truth.

Organized chaos. That was the only way Mia could think to describe the scene in the kitchen. The smell of rosemary, thyme, and citrus scented the air as the overly large turkey roasted in the oven; there were both sweet potatoes and yellow potatoes peeled and boiling away on the stovetop and Sibby and Colleen were both wielding large knives as they chopped celery and carrots, onions, and garlic to mix into a large bowl of dried cubes of bread for something they called "stuffing."

"I made a large pot of coffee, but breakfast is on you, today, Mia. Do you think you can handle scrambling some eggs and frying the bacon in the fridge?"

"Of course. Let me throw these cinnamon buns on a baking sheet and get them going. I think you'll like them."

"You don't have to ask me twice," Sibby said. "I love a warm cinnamon bun."

Mia quickly arranged the raw dough on the parchment paper that covered the baking sheets. She felt good to be included and she knew she could handle eggs and bacon, so she pulled the refrigerator door open to retrieve what she needed from inside. It was all the other food prep that was going on this morning that confused her. Plus, she was truly baffled as to why none of it was familiar. This was clearly a time-honored, national holiday. Why don't I remember this? she asked herself. Maybe my family doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving… but if that was the case, there must be a reason. Do I even have a family? Or wait…she wasn't from here at all… And then it hit her so hard that she had to stop herself from falling over. I'm not American! I'm British! It was fuzzy, but she had the distinct memory of Kyle asking her about that when they first met.

Besides, things weren't adding up. Did all professional bakers use metric measurements as she did, instead of imperial ones? Kyle seemed confused when she asked him to measure out one hundred milliliters of milk and fifty grams of butter for the rolls they made last night. It took a minute for her to figure out the conversion back to ounces and tablespoons. Something was most definitely off. Could she be from London? And if so, why did she not have a more distinct accent when speaking?

"Mia?" Sibby's voice broke into her inner monologue. "Are you okay over there? You've had that refrigerator door open for quite a while."

"Have I?" Mia looked around and realized that Sibby was right. She had been lost in her own thoughts and still hadn't pulled out the bacon, eggs, and butter. "Oh. Right. Sorry." She quickly took the items and placed them on the counter, then closed the door. "I'll get breakfast going now."

"I know you will," Sibby teased. "Once you get your mind off my brother, that is."

Mia blushed but was happy to let Sibby think that she was daydreaming about Kyle instead of questioning everything about her own very existence. The vortex of uncertainty that constantly swirled around her head these last weeks seemed to pick up speed for a moment. She tried to shake the feeling away, but it continued to build until she lifted the tray of uncooked cinnamon rolls and turned to put them in the second oven underneath the one that held the turkey. As she opened the door, a wave of warmth bathed her face and she had a clear vision of that happening before, with a much larger oven in a commercial kitchen. It felt like déjà vu.

Just like that, she remembered.

It was familiar because she owned a bakery. Not just any bakery, either, and she was no ordinary baker. She had created one of the most iconic wedding cakes of all time, for two of the most famous people in the world. Panic overwhelmed her as she remembered, and her hands began to shake. These weren't run of the mill people, not just another bride and groom. They happened to be high ranking members of the royal family. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she knew that somehow, this was the reason she was on the run. As if a door unlocked, her memories flooded back to her, washing over her and nearly knocking her off her feet.

I am British! She felt the shockwaves deep in her soul. I don't recognize Thanksgiving because I've never celebrated it before. I have a brother, Finn. Somehow, he helped me get to the States. I was supposed to meet him at a safe house in Port Hope. Shit! My name isn't Mia. It's Maeve.

She composed herself enough to finish her task and begin making breakfast for the family by finally removing the last of the ingredients from the large kitchen refrigerator. She didn't want to let on that her memory had returned, plus, she now had the beginnings of a headache that pounded along her forehead with an increasing intensity. Let me make it through breakfast. Then I'll figure out my next steps.

Maeve didn't know much in that moment, she only was sure of one thing: she had to take her daughter and leave here, and she had to do it fast. It was the only way to protect Kyle and his family. She was sure of it.