that currently filled Finn’s features. He looked as if it came as no surprise that no one missed him.
“Sure there is.” She said it as much to remind herself as to remind him. “There’s B.”
* * *
“B?” Amelia spoke as if the letter should mean something to him, and Finn had the vaguest sensation that it did.
“Doc Searle didn’t show you the watch?”
Finn looked at his left hand, noticing the now-faint tan line that showed where he wore his watch. Dr. Searle had mentioned an inscribed watch but hadn’t shown it to him. Somewhere from the back of his brain came the fact that where a man wore his watch usually indicated if he was left-or right-handed. It seemed an odd detail for a person to know with the certainty he did and backed up the theory that he was somehow connected with law or security—he seemed used to collecting details as clues. Only if that were true, where was the force that should be out looking for their missing officer? Why wasn’t someone posting departmental notices? APBs?
Finn went to reach for the small drawer in his bedside table, but the action sent jolts of pain through his chest. “Let me look,” Amelia said. “It’s in here.” She pulled out a square gold watch on a black leather band. A nice watch, the kind that got given as a gift. Amelia placed it facedown in Finn’s hand. He ran one finger over the words as he read the inscription. Finn: all my love, B. The sight of those words brought up a bittersweet emotion he couldn’t place. Sorrow? Regret? Loss? Anger? It wasn’t clear enough to name, but it was strong enough to tighten his throat.
“See?” Amelia’s soft, comforting voice came at his shoulder. “There’s at least one person out there who loves you and misses you.” She said it like a blessing, like something that should make him feel better. It didn’t, but he couldn’t explain why. His face must have shown the turmoil, for Amelia’s face lost its encouraging glow and she backed away. “I’m sorry. Maybe there was a reason Dr. Searle waited to show that to you.”
“No,” Finn countered, “I’m glad you did...sort of. Kind of helps to see solid evidence that I’m Finn.” He turned the watch over to stare at the face. It should look familiar, but it was just an object. “I was wearing this when you found me?” He knew plenty of men who’d stopped wearing watches now that cell phones were an easy way to keep track of time—the watch clearly had sentimental value to him.
“It’s all we had to go on. There was no wallet or cell phone or car keys or that sort of thing.”
“If it was a robbery, why not take the watch?” His brain was used to putting facts together like this—it made Finn more convinced he was in some kind of security field.
“That’s what I can’t figure out. Only, you were wearing gloves—I found the glove before I found you—so maybe they didn’t see the watch.” Amelia twisted a finger around one curl of her cascading blond hair, hesitating before asking, “So, no idea who B is?”
Finn took a deep breath, trying to focus his thoughts, to push them through the veil of murky nothingness. “Only that she’s important.” It surprised him—in a much-needed good way—that he knew B was a she. He felt like some strange emotional version of Hansel and Gretel, scanning the world for bits and pieces of a trail to lead him back home. He was Finn and he had—or once had—a B. It wasn’t nearly enough to go on, but other than his recollections of Amelia’s rescue, it was all he had.
He put the watch on, pleased to note it matched the faint tan line on his wrist. He had at least something of his life now. “Thanks for showing that to me. It helps. Really.” He smiled at her, pleased when she smiled back.
“There is more, you know,” Amelia said as she rose up off the chair to open the narrow closet on the far side of the room. “You were wearing these when I found you.” She held up a pair of jeans, a plaid shirt and a heavy fleece—clothes that could have been attributed to half the men in Texas, and certainly no big clues to his identity. “Nice boots,” Amelia offered as she hoisted a pair of worn cowboy boots. She was digging for anything positive to bolster his spirits, and it touched him that she was trying so hard.
“They look like mine,” he said, not sure how he could make the claim but wanting to go along with her relentless hunt for affirmations. “Like something I think I’d wear, I mean.”
“Well,” she said, rehanging the clothes, “you know more now than you did this morning. Tomorrow you’ll find out even more. That’s what Dr. Searle said, that you’d get things back as you went along. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if by this time tomorrow you know your name, your address and your grandmother’s birthday.”
A knock on the door signaled Dr. Searle’s entry into the room. He nodded toward the watch on his hand. “So you’ve seen that. Bring up anything?”
Nothing good, but Finn didn’t really want to admit that. “I don’t know who B is, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Only it’s a she, and she’s important,” Amelia added. “That’s good progress, don’t you think?”
Finn touched the watch again and thought about the tender inscription now against his skin. B sounded like a wife, or a sister, or a love—so why didn’t he remember her, and why hadn’t she come looking for him? Why was his response to the watch so dark? Nothing made any sense.
“Pie?” Dr. Searle noticed the three pieces sitting on the tray beside Finn’s bed.
“Amelia was fixing to convert me to her theory that pie makes everything better. And that knowing which flavors I like was vital information.”
Dr. Searle laughed. “I could think of worse therapies.”
“I read that tastes and smells are among the most powerful memories. It seemed like an ideal way to wake up Finn’s brain cells.”
Finn sat up. “You were researching amnesia?” He hated using that term to refer to whatever it was that happened to him. It sounded so dramatic.
“Well, if you call looking things up on the internet on your smartphone while you’re waiting in line at the pharmacy for Gramps’s prescriptions research, then yes. I mean, really, how many amnesia patients does a person get to meet? It’s fascinating.”
Not so much from where I sit, Finn thought darkly. The feeling of everything being just slightly beyond his control was too prickly for his liking. Exhaustion pulled on his composure, and he tried to stifle a yawn.
“Speaking of Gramps, I’d better get home to him. He’s usually good about his evening medicines, but not always. And he’s an absolute bear in the morning if he stays up too late watching television.” She touched Finn’s arm again in that soft, kind way. “You must be worn-out—it’s been quite a day. I expect rest is about the best gift you can give yourself right now, so see that you get lots of it. I’ll stop back by tomorrow after church. And I’ve already added you to the prayer list, so you’re set there.”
“Pie, pajamas and prayer—what more can a man ask for?” Finn had to wonder if he was always this bad at conversation or if his slumbering synapses just made him say stupid things. “Thank you,” he offered, finding the words painfully inadequate for all Amelia Klondike had done.
Her blue eyes glowed, as if she understood all he’d failed to say. “You’re welcome. Rest up now, and we’ll see
