But none of his gentle prodding brought back any memory. She had no name, no past, no possessions. And seemed, as his studies had suggested was often common with her sort of memory loss, content not to remember.
“I don’t care,” she told him.
She wore one of his shirts, and they sat in the sunshine in the garden he kept thinking about hiring someone to help him deal with.
“You need to know who you are. What happened to you. Where you come from. If you have family.”
“I don’t care,” she said again. “I feel like my life started when you found me, and everything before that was dark and hard and mean. I don’t want any of it, Joe. I don’t want to know if I was a terrible person or a nice one. You said there haven’t been any reports on someone like me missing or in trouble.”
“No, but—”
“If no one cares enough to look for me, why should I care enough to look for them? You cared enough.” She smiled at him, reached for his hand. “You saved me. I was so scared, so lost, so tired, so sick. So alone. And there you were.”
“Your memory could come back, anytime.”
“I don’t care.”
She shook back her short, shaggy hair and lifted her face to the sun. “You know how this feels? It feels free. It feels new.” Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes. “It feels safe and warm. Will you let me stay?” She looked back at him. “At least for a while. I could clean. I don’t know if I can cook, but I can try. I could learn. I could weed the garden and cut the grass. I know you have to go back to work, and I feel stronger every day. I could help you take care of this beautiful old house.”
“Of course you can stay until you remember or you’re just ready to go.”
She closed her eyes again, but kept the grip on his hand.
“I don’t think I ever knew anyone like you. I don’t think I could have and ever gotten so lost. You brought me back. I don’t know from what, and I don’t care, but you brought me back. Would you name me?”
“Listen, I—”
“I’d like to use a name you give me, to think of myself as that someone.” She smiled at him now, her color healthy again, the raw, red bites fading. “A name you like, and I can try to be who she is.”
“You need to be who you are.”
She smiled again. “It’s just a name. I’d like to have one.”
“Violet. The first time I walked you outside, you picked some violets. You must like them.”
“Violet. It’s pretty. It’s perfect.” She held out a hand to shake. “Hi, Joe. I’m Violet. It’s nice to meet you.”
NOW
Mary Kate knew he’d come back. The rumbling sound overhead—the first time she’d thought thunder—meant he left or came back. She usually heard footsteps overhead shortly before or shortly after.
She figured he must have a job, so he left in the morning, came back at night. So it must be night. Or evening. Or screw it, the son of a bitch worked the night shift and now it was morning.
Time of day didn’t matter. Getting away meant everything.
She’d tried calling out after the first rumble of the day—or night. She’d banged on the door, called out her name. But she didn’t think anyone remained behind the door across from hers, where she thought she’d heard someone crying and calling before.
She wanted there to be someone. She didn’t care how selfish it was, she just didn’t want to be alone.
When he brought her breakfast, he carried in a lamp. Though he placed it well out of her reach, he showed her—gleefully—that she just had to clap her hands to turn it on and off.
“Try it, Mommy! Try it!”
Terrified, she obediently clapped it on and off, on again while he giggled.
“I made you scrambled eggs and toast and a fruit cup so you’ll eat a balanced breakfast. You should’ve told me it’s important to eat a balanced breakfast.”
“Didn’t I?”
He ticked his finger back and forth. “Uh-uh. Now, after you eat, you can wash in the sink and change clothes. It’s important to be clean. You shouldn’t have let me get so dirty all the time.”
“No, I shouldn’t have. That was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
His eyes glittered in a way that had her heart slamming into her throat. “You made lots of them, didn’t you?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry for all of them. I’m going to do much better.”