“Why are we at the library again?” I ask Cadence for about the fiftieth time.

“We’re going to decide our new course of action.” He says plopping down into the rickety wooden seat and taking a long sip of tea.

He keeps saying that, but so far, we’ve just been sitting here for ten minutes with Cadence peering expectantly around us. I’m fairly certain he just wants to see Risa. And it’s not like we don’t have computers at home, so he can’t say it’s just to research the accident.

“There’s not supposed to be beverages in here.” I remind him.

“It’s in a closed container. It’s fine.” I’m about to argue when a frizzy head pokes out from between two shelves and then Risa starts to walk past with a handful of books. Cadence jumps up to help, only succeeding in knocking all the books on the floor. His face is bright red as he mumbles apologies. Now this is painful to watch.

“Hey Risa, we’re trying to plan out our next step in the mystery that is my life, want to join?” Risa checks the watch on her wrist and bobs her head.

“Sure, I can spare a few minutes. So how did meeting the parents go?” She asks. Cadence is still fumbling with her discarded stack of books and mumbling apologies, and it seems to take a moment for his brain to catch up with his mouth.

Risa already has the books gathered up and calmly reaches to take the last one that Cadence is clutching for dear life. It seems to dawn on him that Risa is trying to pull it from his hand and he awkwardly releases the book to shuffle back to our table.

“So, what about Darryl’s parents?” Risa asks after I bring her up to date.

“That’s a great idea. Brilliant idea! We should’ve thought of that. Leary, we should’ve thought of that. You’re smart people.” Cadence says. I shoot him a glance. He is acting really weird.

“I’m not so sure about it, since things with Margaret’s parents went so south.” I say.

“No, Auntie K is part of the family. We probably should pay her a visit. I haven’t been by to see her since a little after the funeral when mom sent over a few casseroles.” An expression of sadness passes briefly over his face, but at least he’s finally sounding normal.

“Maybe…”

“I’ll do all the talking,” Cadence reassures me. He turns to give Risa a creepy smile that I think is supposed to be flirty. We are definitely going to have to discuss his flirting habits if he doesn’t want to be labeled as a stalker. “Thanks for the idea again.” To her credit, she doesn’t seem that concerned by it.

“So… uh… how did you like that book?” Risa asks me. I’d only read the first chapter but what I’d read wasn’t too terrible. The main character seemed pretty likeable and the fantasy world was described well.

Cadence chimes in about his favorite parts and then they start to ask each other about different books. I tune out as they start enthusiastically talking about their favorite authors. At least Cadence is sounding less creepy now.

I get up to walk around the books and neither even notice. When I see Evan walking past, I follow him to the screenplay section, he sits on the floor and starts to read a copy of a play, but I can’t see the title. This is the first time I’ve seen him actually holding something, I almost reach forward to see if the book is real, like I wanted to do the last time I saw him reading. Before I can, I hear Cadence and Risa calling me. I turn towards their voices and by the time I turn back, Evan is gone.

***

Darryl's house looks pristine. It’s a brilliant baby blue with white shutters and a large porch. Evan is swinging on the wooden porch swing out front when we arrive. An immaculate lady in scrubs answers the door at our knock. She looks to be in her early thirties and everything about her screams perfection. It makes me think of how put together Analise was. But there’s something more inviting to her. Where Analise was like a cold stone statue. Mrs. Davies is like a warm summer day.

There are dark circles under her eyes and a stain on her rumpled top, indicating that the perfection is a façade. She’s worn out but puts up a good front, most likely. Before we can say anything, she pushes open the door and pulls both of us into a hug. Definitely not the reaction I was expecting.

“Hi, Auntie K.” Cadence says. “Mom sent another casserole.” He holds out the dish to her as she ushers us inside. Serenity was ecstatic to hear that we were going to check on Karina, Mrs. Davies’ first name. She insisted on sending us with food. It took a lot of convincing to only end up with one casserole and not five. “And she said not to be a stranger and to remember to call if you need anything at all.”

“Oh, Serenity is such a peach, I still need to send back the dishes from the last ones she sent. Would you like some sweet tea? Water? Lemonade? I don’t have soda, but I have plenty of different juices. You know the game, name a juice and I probably have it.” I make a mental note to ask Cadence about that later.

“I bet you don’t have banana juice.” I say jokingly.

She motions us to a leather green couch that looks like it’s never had anyone sit on it. Next to it are two well-worn recliners and a rocking chair.

“There’s banana-apple and banana-pineapple.” She says. Cadence is smirking at me.

There’s an almost empty bookshelf with tons of pictures along the shelves instead of books. There’s quite a few of Darryl, Evan, Cadence, and myself as children. There’s one of the younger versions of the four of us, probably around 10, in bathing suits, the ocean crashing behind us.

The oldest picture of us includes Margaret, we’re all covered in paint and grinning wildly. There’s a family picture of Darryl and his parents. Mrs. Davies and the man are gazing adoringly at each other over top of Darryl’s head.

Mrs. Davies takes the casserole into the kitchen and Cadence yells out cranberry-grape and she brings out two glasses of juice. Mine is a tan color and it tastes exactly like bananas and apples. So, banana juice is a thing apparently.

She perches on the edge of one of the recliners and reaches to take my hands. “It’s good to see you walking again, dear. I’ve been meaning to give you a call and see how you’ve been doing. And you,” She reaches for Cadence, “you look well. I hope you’re taking good care of your sister.” He nods enthusiastically.

“I’ve been meaning to give you this too.” Mrs. Davies goes to the bookshelf and pulls out an envelope. “Just a little thank you for speaking about my baby.” She’s got tears glistening in her eyes. “It was a nice service wasn’t it. He would’ve been proud.”

“He would’ve loved the attention. We all miss him.” Cadence has tears glistening in his eyes too.

“My baby always said that laughter was good for the soul and that that’s why his goal was to make everyone he met laugh at least once.” Mrs. Davies says.

They both begin sharing stories about Darryl. He really does sound like a fun guy and again it bothers me that I can’t remember him.

Mrs. Davies turns to me.

“You really do look well, dear. Both of you do. Now I’m sure the two of you aren’t just here to reminisce.”

She’s a sharp one. She eyes both of us with the same expression I’ve seen Serenity give Clef and Alto when they’re goofing off too much at the dinner table.

“We had some questions.” I say before Cadence has a chance to.

“About that night?” I swear this woman must be a mind reader like Mama Etta.

“Yeah, did Darryl mention where we were going or anything about what we were doing?” I ask.

She lets out a long sigh.

“I’d heard that you had some memory loss, but I just couldn’t quite believe it. Oh sweetie, this must be so hard on you.” She reaches to take my hand again. I think she might be the first person that I’ve met that responded like that.

I’m used to the looks of pity, the oohs and ahhs, and the ones that casually changed the conversation. And of course, the few people that thought I was joking at first. But she’s giving me a knowing look as if she understands my pain, while nothing compared to hers, it’s almost a relief to find someone to empathize with.

“I wish I could help. I really do. I was working the late shift that night and wasn’t home till early morning. By that time…”

She trails off and I can practically see the scene playing out in front of my eyes. A tired and bedraggled Mrs. Davies coming home to an empty house, perhaps a phone call or a cop car showing up to inform her of the accident. She shakes her head as if to shake away the memories and purses her lips in a thoughtful way.

“Now that I think about it, all he’d mentioned was that he was going to work on a project that night, but he said he’d be back before his curfew and not to worry.” She pulls a tissue out of her pocket and dabs at her eyes. “I wish that I knew more.”

“No, no that’s all right, we’re sorry to bring it up so soon after what happened.” Cadence chimes in. “We really are.”

“You’re all good kids, I know it wasn’t anyone’s fault what happened. You be good to your parents all right? They love you.”

She’s tearing up again. Cadence reaches over to hug her.

She gives us a lecture about staying out of trouble, I can sense what she really wants to say, though. No parent should have to bury a child. While she desperately misses her son, she’s not angry that I’m still here. She doesn’t blame me, and for some reason crushing guilt washes over me at the thought. I feel like she should blame me. Maybe not because I survived, but whatever happened that night, I’m fairly certain it was because of an idea of mine.

The conversation changes. Mrs. Davies seems like she needs to talk. I ask her about how we all met, and she tells me a hilarious story about us all meeting in a theater production during elementary school.

Apparently, there was a mix up and Darryl was given my costume, but instead of trying to figure out why someone handed him a girl’s dress, he went on stage and acted my part out perfectly which left me to do his role.

The switch was done so well that everyone thought we’d planned it. After that we all became inseparable. And it helped that he lived nearby like Evan, and that he and Cadence were already friends because they played in little league baseball together.

She continues for hours telling us all sorts of stories and it’s in the middle of a story about the four of us trying to build a teepee hut in the backyard with sticks, leaves, and mud that it happens. My head pounds and then I’m not just hearing her talk anymore, I see it. It all plays out in front of me like a movie.

It’s a sunny day, and the four of us are working hard. A younger, long haired Evan has his curls tied back in a ponytail. He’s making mud, using water from the hose and carefully mixing it into a bowl of dirt.

Cadence and I are dressed identically in overalls and t-shirts, something that Darryl keeps making fun of. I’m climbing up and down the large tree in the yard to pick out the perfect branches for our teepee. I’ve got a little gold pocket knife that I’m using to slash the branches off before taking my bundles to Darryl.

He has a bright red cast on his arm, but it’s not stopping him from helping. He also has his own pocket knife, that he’s using to peel the bark off the branches. Then Cadence is forming the teepee, he seems to be having trouble getting the branches to bend how he wants. Mrs. Davies interrupts to bring us bowls of ice cream and we each abandon our projects to sit on the porch swing and eat our already melting treats.

“He had a broken arm.” I interrupt her story with wide eyes. This is the first thing I’ve truly remembered, and I savor every little detail from the hot sun, the bug bites, the rough bark, mud, and the sticky ice cream. Cadence’s mouth drops open, but Mrs. Davies doesn’t seem to catch the exchange.

“Oh yes. He got that from climbing the tree in the front yard.” She says and then it dawns on her too, and both of them are staring at me with open mouths.

It takes everything in me not to jump up and dance from the excitement. And then I do it anyway, Cadence joins and even Mrs. Davies jumps up.

I remembered something!