Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

D aylight crept across her pillow, and she woke with a start. Nothing around her felt familiar; the mattress, or the prevalent musky, masculine scent that perfumed the sheets. When she sat up, she saw that the Pack and Play next to the bed was empty. She felt a jolt of sheer terror climb up her spine -- where was her baby?

She pushed herself up, not noticing that she was wearing only camisole top and pajama shorts and left the bedroom feeling her heart race. She stumbled into the kitchen to find Kyle holding Sarah in one strong arm while preparing coffee with the other. Her daughter was cooing, which immediately made her calm just a bit. Gathering her wits about her, she walked toward the sound of his low voice, singing something unfamiliar to her daughter. Just as she approached, Kyle lifted his head and saw her. She felt his eyes on her then, sweeping over her scantily clad body and landing on her face.

"Good morning," he said. "I hope you don't mind. You were sleeping so soundly that when I heard Sarah start to wake, I just wanted to save you from getting up, so I came in and grabbed her."

"You didn't need to do that. I can take care of her."

"I'm sure you can, but doctor's orders, you know. You still need to take it easy, stay off your feet as much as possible."

"I'm really fine," she responded, a moment too soon. She felt a wave of dizziness overwhelm her and she started to sway, grabbing on to the counter for balance.

"Mia, you need to sit down. Now ," he said in a deep, commanding tone.

She had no real choice. She sank down into the seat closest to her.

"I don't know why…" she began.

"Concussions are crazy, take it from me. One minute you feel like yourself and the next thing you know you can hardly stay on your feet. Plus, you need to eat something. What would you like?"

"I've been such a bother already. I hate to impose on you further," she said, resting her head on her hands, leaning her elbows on the counter. Suddenly, her head felt too heavy to lift.

"No, no bother at all. Just hang on while I get this little one situated. He walked around the counter and into the living room where he'd placed a blanket on the floor near the couch. She watched as he put her daughter on it before walking back over to the kitchen.

"This will have to do. Sarah will be fine there for now."

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Now, do you like coffee? Tea? I can make us another omelet, or if you prefer, I can whip up some pancakes."

"Quite the chef, aren't you?"

"Comes with the territory. I'm from a large family. Everyone learned how to cook at an early age. Don't be fooled…I only know the basics. I never progressed past the simple stuff."

"Survival at all costs, huh?" She covered her mouth once the words left her throat. Why did I say that and why do I feel like that's my life, not his?

"Something like that," he replied, clearly not bothered by what she'd just said. "Now, what will it be?"

"Whatever you're having will be fine. I think I have to feed the baby, though."

"Right. Let me help you back into the bedroom. It will be more private for you both in there."

He walked back around to where she sat and put a hand under her elbow, guiding her up. "How's that? Still dizzy?"

"It's better now," she replied. "I think I'll be okay if you bring the baby with you. I don't want to take any chances."

"Of course."

He trailed behind her as she made her way slowly back to the bedroom, lifting the child up and bringing her along.

She sat back down on the bed and held her arms up to take her daughter from him.

"Hang on," he said, pulling the pillows together and propping them against the headboard. "You need to get comfortable first."

She smiled. He was a gentleman, that was for certain. Someone had raised him right. She settled herself against the pillows and said, "I'm good now," and reached her arms out once more to take the baby from him.

"Here you go," he said, passing the infant to her. "I'll go make us some breakfast. Call me when you're ready to come back inside. I'll come get you lovely ladies."

"Thank you," she replied. Once he left the room, she lowered one strap of her camisole and positioned Sarah to her breast. The child latched on and began drinking immediately, clearly hungry.

"What are we going to do, little lamb?" she whispered to her daughter. "This man is lovely, but we've got to be on our way. If I could only remember what I'm supposed to be doing, or where we were headed. I'm sure I'll figure it out soon, right?"

The child didn't hesitate or stop eating; she merely gazed at her mother with trust and innocence as if to say, "I know, mom. I know."

"I'm not entirely sure, but there's something about this man. I think we'll be good here until I'm back on my feet. I don't know why I think that's true, but I do."

The baby looked up at her as if to agree.

"Let's give it a day or so, and then we'll figure out where we're supposed to be. Does that sound good to you?" she whispered.

No response was necessary. She knew that for now, they had no other choice, just as she knew that despite not having her memory, one truth remained. Her daughter was the only person on earth with whom she had an unbreakable bond. Of that, she was certain.

Once the baby was finished feeding, burped, and changed into a clean diaper, she grabbed a sweater out of her suitcase to cover her camisole and slowly made her way back into the kitchen. The smell of pancakes hung in the air.

Kyle looked up when he heard her pull back a stool. "Why didn't you call me? I would have come in and walked you out of there."

"No need. I'm fine now. Just hungry. Breastfeeding seems to deplete me faster than I'd like to admit."

"Well, let's do something about that," he said with an easy smile. He turned around for a quick moment and then returned, handing her a plate of fluffy pancakes stacked neatly in a tower.

"That's a lot of food," she said laughing.

"Well, you claim to be depleted. Let's fill you back up."

"Thank you," she said.

He handed her a warmed pitcher of maple syrup.

"You never answered me before. Coffee or tea?"

All at once she was hit with the realization that at some point in her life, she would have requested tea with milk, but in this instance, she felt safer asking for coffee, even if she wasn't sure why.

"I'll have a coffee if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all," he replied, pouring some already brewed liquid into a large ceramic mug. "Cream? Sugar?" he asked.

"Just cream would be great," she replied.

He swung around again and pulled a small clear glass pitcher out of the refrigerator and handed it to her. "Here you go," he said. "And by the way. I ran your name through the system. No hits. No one filed a missing person's report for you. You have no police record. Hell, you don't even have an outstanding parking ticket."

"So, is that a dead end?"

"That is, but I was about to Google you when I heard Sarah get up. I'll do that after we eat."

They ate side by side, seated at the counter, and after a few minutes of silence he asked, "Did finding your name on your driver's license jog your memory at all?"

"A bit," she lied. She couldn't tell him the truth. Mia wasn't her name. She had no idea what her name really was, but she knew that it wasn't what was printed on that small card.

"Maybe as the day goes on, more will come back to you. Time is the only cure for your problem," he said, swiping his forkful of pancake through a puddle of syrup on his plate.

"Kyle…what if it doesn't? What then?" she asked. Frightening thought, but she couldn't help herself. She felt a shiver run up her spine.

"Let's not go to the worst possible place. Let's believe that with some more rest and a little bit of time, all will be revealed," he said in a soft yet reassuring voice.

She wasn't sure if that was a good thing. She wasn't sure that she wanted all to be revealed. After all, the unknown was a scary place. But so were the shadows that lurked around the corners of her memory. The memory that was blocked. For now.

The days passed peacefully and without incident. It was already Saturday, almost a week since the accident. Her memory remained unrestored, and she felt fully unsettled.

Kyle had been a gentleman, giving her space to take care of the baby. He quietly took care of her, cooking their meals and making her feel like a welcomed guest in his home. She was beginning to think that even if she had no idea where she was supposed to be, she should find somewhere else to stay. This man was kind, but she didn't want to feel obligated to him. Plus, being around him, she was constantly aware of his maleness. He was attractive, and she found herself noticing small things, like the strong shape of his fingers and the broad nature of his shoulders and back. The way his tee shirts strained against his biceps made her stomach weak. She recognized the danger of getting more intimately involved with him.

Plus, he was trying his best to locate her family, and she had a bad feeling about that. She still couldn't put her finger on it, but she was sure that she didn't want him to uncover that part of her life. She was feeling certain that her family was the reason she'd been driving so fast that night when they first met after the accident.

For now, the baby was napping in the bedroom, and she was trying to clear her mind from the panic that seeped around the edges of her thoughts. She was deep in concentration journaling, trying to write down the details of her life now, hoping it would jog a memory of her past. She was so immersed in her task that she didn't hear Kyle step into the living room. When he sat down on the couch next to her, she almost jumped out of her own skin.

"Oh! I'm sorry. Did I startle you?" he asked.

"No, it's okay. I was just trying to remember more of where I was headed before I had the accident."

"Still nothing, huh?" He shook his head.

"I promise, I'd tell you if I could. Would she, though? A chill passed up her spine at her last thought. What was the secret that she was keeping? She knew that it was dangerous, whatever it was…

"Well, I've got just the thing to take your mind off your troubles. Come to dinner at Sibby's with me tomorrow night. Meet the rest of my family. It will be loud and crazy, believe me. You won't be able to concentrate on anything other than what's on your dinner plate."

"I don't know, Kyle. I've imposed on you enough." Do I really want to meet more people? I can barely keep myself together here with just him. It's stressful enough, but he's been so kind. How can I say no?

"This is one way to repay me. I don't want to go either, but I promised Sibby." He looked down at his feet and she sensed he needed her to be there.

"Well, since you put it that way," she smiled. "Sarah and I would be delighted to accompany you." Well maybe not delighted. Obligated is closer to the truth.

A smile crossed his face just then, and she couldn't help but think that he looked so handsome this way.

"Thanks. You're really helping me out here. But there's something I have to tell you first, before you hear it over at my sister's house."

From the look in his eyes, Mia could see that whatever this was, it was troubling him. Everybody has a secret , she thought. I wonder if his is bigger than mine…

"You may be wondering why I'm able to be at home here, with you."

"I noticed that you were here all day long, of course, but I didn't want to pry," she said. "I didn't feel like I could ask you..."

"I want to explain," he began, and then he recounted the night when the shooting occurred. He told her everything, how he was sure the young perp had a gun, how it turned out to be a toy, how devastated he felt when he saw the blood seeping through the victim's shirt. He told her about his suspension pending the investigation and how he'd locked up his personal weapon as well.

"I don't even know how I feel about holding a gun again, and that's a liability in my line of work. More than that, it's not who I am. I was raised around guns, my dad taught all of us how to shoot and how to take care of a weapon. He stressed safety first. Besides, it's a requirement of my job and a massive responsibility. It should be so much a part of me to carry my service revolver that I don't even have to think about it, but now I'm not sure…"

"Kyle," Mia said softly, moving closer to him on the couch. "Don't do this to yourself. You made a mistake, we all do. Besides, it won't happen twice. This trauma you've lived through will prevent you from ever doing the same thing again."

He looked up at her just then, his green eyes misty. He was so open and so vulnerable that it made her insides turn to liquid. She reached out and put one hand on his shoulder where she could feel the physical evidence of his stress and pain. "It's okay, Kyle. You've done enough penance now. When you go back to work, which I'm sure will happen, you'll start to feel like yourself again."

They sat in silence for a long while before he quietly said, "Thank you for understanding. It means a lot to me."

"Of course," she said. She had the sudden thought that if she continued to sit next to him, something might happen between them. She wanted to reach for him and kiss away his troubles, to feel more of his muscled body, share herself with him in the most intimate way. Instead, she asked, "Will you be okay if I go take a nap?"

When he looked up at her this time, she was sure she saw something else in his eyes, a longing of some sort. She wondered if the desire that she noticed there mirrored what she was feeling as well. She had better leave the room before she did something she'd regret. Her life was already complicated enough.