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“What do you mean? You eat those all the time.”
“They taste like cardboard. Are you fucking with me?” Her eye narrowed, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“No. I would never do that. You always grab those crackers when we sit down to watch a movie if we don’t have any popcorn. Come on. Let’s get out of here and go eat some food that doesn’t taste like cardboard.” I winked.
I grabbed the keys to her car and my guitar case, and we walked out the front door.
“Do you want to drive?” I held up her keys.
“No. You can drive.” She climbed into the passenger side and shut the door. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” The corners of my mouth curved upward as I fastened my seatbelt.
When we reached the marina, I opened her door and helped her from the car, gripping her hand tight and not letting go.
“A marina?” She glanced at me. “The boat?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “It’s right over here.”
I helped her onto the boat, and she looked around.
“Wow. This is beautiful.”
“You love this boat,” I spoke.
“I’m sure I do. We’re having dinner on here?”
“Yeah. Sebastian dropped off dinner for us, and I thought we’d set sail for a while after we ate.”
“Can I ask something of you?” she spoke.
“Sure. What is it?” I poured us each a glass of wine.
“I don’t want you to pretend this is our first date, and I don’t want you to be overly gentlemen-like. I want to get to know the real you without all the ‘trying to impress the girl.’”
“Okay.” I nodded. “But this isn’t the first time I’ve done this for us. I’m not doing anything I normally wouldn’t do. We’ve had many dinners together on this boat.”
“I had a memory today,” she said.
“You did? What was your memory?”
“I was sitting in my office, and the flashes started happening. Dr. Bancroft told me not to fight them and to try and relax my mind when they happen. So, I did, and I remembered holding a brown leather journal in my hand and placing it in the bottom drawer of my desk.”
“That’s kind of an odd memory.” I arched my brow. “Was the journal in the drawer?”
“Yeah. It was.” She smiled.
“What was in the journal?” I asked her.
“Just notes. But the point is I remembered that.”
“Yeah. That’s great. Every memory counts, no matter how small it is. There hasn’t been anything else?”
“No.” She picked up her wine glass. “Can you tell me what happened the day of the accident?”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to know every detail of that day. If you can remember.”
