Forget Me Not

by Fern Michaels

  “What kind of plan?” Lucy asked, her eyes full of hope.

  “That’s what we have to work out. We’ll go downstairs and have a round table. We’ll talk till we can’t talk anymore. Something is bound to jump out at us. And we’ll go from there. I’m staying here tonight. I’m not letting you two out of my sight.”

  Lucy almost swooned with relief. “That’s . . . that’s kind of you, Luke.”

  They were halfway down the stairs when Luke stopped and literally shouted, “I think I have an idea. Two of my closest friends live in New York. Jack has an older brother who works for some hush-hush branch of the government. I don’t know what he does, and I don’t think Jack knows, either. Maybe we could enlist his help or at least ask him to point us in the right direction. But if we do that, that means someone else knows about this . . . problem. Do we want to risk that? No, we don’t. Forget I said anything. Jack can’t keep a secret to save his soul. That’s probably why his brother would never tell him anything.”

  Both women looked like he’d just rained on their personal parade.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll come up with something,” he assured them. “After all, there are three of us. Let’s have some more coffee and run some ideas up the flagpole.”

  It was almost midnight when Lucy’s eyes started to droop. Angie called a halt to their discussions. “We’re beating a dead horse here. The bottom line is this . . . and, you two, tell me if you agree. Tomorrow morning we are moving lock, stock, and barrel to Freehold. When we get there, we are going to call the FBI office in Newark and ask to speak with an agent. We’ll pick the time and the place. Perth Amboy sounds like a middle-of-the-road place. We’ll tell him our story and go on from there.”

  “That’s a plan,” Luke said.

  Angie laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. “It should be. It’s your plan. I was just summarizing it for us. So, do we all agree?”

  “It works for me,” Lucy said.

  “Me too,” Luke said.

  “You two are forgetting something,” Lucy said, a devilish glint in her eye.

  “What?” Luke and Angie said at the same moment.

  “I’ll be able to know what the agent is thinking. Unless my mysterious power evaporates, and I do have to say that it is not as strong as it was. Dr. Lyons was right. My brain short-circuited, and it’s mending itself little by little.”

  Luke grinned. “Well, that definitely gives us a leg up. If you girls don’t mind, I need to call my dad and my foreman to tell them I’m staying on here for a few days.”

  “Go ahead. Angie and I will make a fire with what’s left of the wood, and we’ll spread some blankets and pillows down. We are not sleeping on the second floor tonight.”

  “Okay, that works,” Luke said, fishing in his pocket for his cell phone.

  Lucy and Angie left the room, their steps a little more jaunty than they had been earlier in the day.

  “I’d say that guy is a keeper, Lucy,” Angie whispered. “You like him, don’t you? He sure seems to like you. You can see it in his eyes. And by the way, he really does have nice eyes.”

  Lucy nodded. “I like the way he stepped right in and offered to help us. He didn’t judge us, either. The best part is, he believed us. But he’s now involved.”

  “I think he’s the kind of guy who can handle anything. And what a body on that man!” Angie whispered as she clicked the switch on the gas starter. Flames raced up the chimney.

  “Shhh, he might hear you,” Lucy cautioned. Lucy’s eyes twinkled. “And that would be a bad thing . . . ?”

  Angie grinned. “Guess not. You know what, Lucy?”

  “No, what?”

  “I’m feeling a lot better about things now that Luke is here. How about you?”

  “Absolutely. Definitely. You know it.”

  This time Angie laughed out loud. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  “I thought I just did.”

  The women doubled over laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Luke asked from the doorway.

  “You really don’t want to know,” Angie said.

  “Yeah, I do. No secrets here, okay?”

  “Well, in that case . . .”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lucy lay quietly, wrapped in blankets and listening to Angie’s soft, even breathing. The glowing numerals on her watch said it was 2:10, and she had yet to fall asleep. Across the room, where Luke Kingston was sleeping, all remained quiet. For some reason, she thought he would be a lusty snorer. Was there such a word as snorer? she wondered. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force sleep. It didn’t help. It must be all the coffee she’d consumed. As far as excuses went, that was about the lamest she could come up with. In the past, coffee had never kept her awake. What was keeping her awake was fear and concern about how she was going to deal with what she was facing.

  Lucy looked at the orange-red embers in the fireplace. In another hour there would be nothing but smoldering black ashes, and then the room would be freezing cold, unless she got up and adjusted the thermostat. She squeezed her eyes shut again. Maybe, instead of thinking about the mess she was in, she should think about the white knight named Luke Kingston, who had shown up at her front door. She felt the same connection to him that he said he felt to her. How strange is that?

  What was really strange was that he hadn’t cut and run when she’d told him about her present predicament. He’d jumped right in and offered to help. Most people would have thrown up their hands and run like hell. Not Luke. She liked him. Not just a little bit, but a lot. Kissing him, she knew, would be an experience to end all experiences. And then . . .

  Lucy squirmed in her cocoon of blankets. Thoughts of Luke and the possibilities that loomed out there would keep her awake forever if she continued. Damn, I might as well get up and make a cup of tea. More caffeine. Then she could take some of the big lawn bags and go upstairs to get a head start on packing up her stuff so she didn’t have to do it in the morning. That was exactly what she should do. She moved then, quietly, and got up. She tiptoed, or tried to, across the room and out to the kitchen.

  Lucy was taking the first sip of tea when she looked across the room to see Luke standing in the doorway. She wanted to smile, to say something witty, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “Couldn’t sleep, huh?”

  “I tried, but sleep wouldn’t come. I tried every sleep trick I’ve ever heard of, but nothing worked. I’m too wired. Guess you couldn’t sleep, either.”

  If I could get you out of my mind, I might have had a shot at sleep. All I wanted to do was get up and crawl under the blankets with you.

  “TMI, Luke,” Lucy said, setting her cup down on the table. “There’s one tea bag left. Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?”

  “You’re right, too much information. Damn, I keep forgetting about you and your . . . special abilities. Well, would you have let me crawl under the covers with you?”

  A devil perched itself on Lucy’s shoulders. “Well, yeah. The fire died down, and I was cold. Nothing warms up a person like another person’s body heat. No problem now, though. I turned the heat up.”

  The same little devil that was perched on Lucy’s shoulders danced his way over to Luke’s shoulder. He chuckled. “I don’t much care for tea. So, here we are,” he said.

  Well, that was brilliant for a one-liner.

  Lucy laughed. “On a scale from one to ten, I’d give it a three.”

  “You know, Lucy, it’s really hard to keep my mind blank. And yet I never considered myself much of a thinker. Can we call a truce here, where you stop reading my mind?”

  “That’s your end. What do I get on my end?”

  “My undying support.”

  “Okay. It’s a deal.”

  “You’re lying, aren’t you? You can’t turn it off, can you?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Like I said, here we are. What should we do?”

  “Talk, I guess. W
hy don’t you tell me more about you and your sister and how you got into the construction business. I like hearing about people’s childhood. Like I told you, my own was far from normal. Tell me about your best memories, and this will go a long way toward . . . you know . . . our friendship.”

  They talked then like two very old dear friends until the sun came up.

  Lucy’s eyes were misty when she said, “Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have so many wonderful memories?”

  Luke leaned across the table. “I do know, Lucy. Every day of my life I thank God for being so good to me. I’m just sorry you had such a . . . I don’t know what word to use to describe yours.”

  “Shitty will do it.”

  Luke laughed. “When you have kids, you’ll be able to revisit childhood with your own kids. It will be all the more precious to you.”

  “Kids? I just assumed I would have only Izzy, Bizzy, and Lizzy. I never let my thinking get beyond those cartoon characters.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong. My sister told me that those characters are so real to her kids, so imaginative, that she just assumed the person who created them, meaning you, was transferring her own childhood antics to Izzy, Bizzy, and Lizzy.”

  “Your sister is right. I do have a vivid imagination. I guess you could say they were my hungry dreams and wishes that never came true.”

  “Did you ever make a wish, like on the North Star, or when you blew out your birthday candles?”

  Lucy made a strangled noise in her throat. “All the time, but they never came true.”

  I’m going to make it my business to make all those wishes come true, come hell or high water. As soon as I find out what those wishes were.

  Lucy wisely remained silent as she stared out the kitchen window.

  “Are you going to tell me what your wishes were?”

  “I wished for a dog who would be allowed to sleep with me. A golden retriever. I wished for a special friend who I could tell my secrets to. I wished for my parents to love me so much, they couldn’t bear to send me off to boarding school. I wished for a big red wagon so I could put my dog in it and pull it around. I wished someone would teach me how to swim. The list is kind of endless. It doesn’t matter. Not a single one of my wishes ever came true. Don’t feel sorry for me, okay? If you do, I’ll just feel worse.”

  “Okay.” Luke sighed. “If you tell me where the nearest diner is, I’ll go and get us some breakfast. And then we can get this show on the road.”

  “Go out to the end of my street, and make a right, then a left. Stay on Grove till you come to James Street. Stay on that and you’ll see the Parsonage Diner. You can get Angie and me fried-egg sandwiches with bacon and a smidgen of ketchup. Get some coffee and real cream. And whatever you want, of course. They’ll pack it in a heat bag, so it will still be warm when you get back. The food is really good. For diner food.”

  Luke was at the door when he turned around. “I think I can truthfully say, this was the best all-nighter I ever pulled. I like you, Lucy Brighton. Your turn, Lucy Brighton.”

  “I like you, too, Luke Kingston. A lot, Luke Kingston.”

  The minute the door closed behind Luke, Angie burst into the kitchen. “Wow! All I can say, Lucy, is wow! That guy is so hooked on you. I mean hooked.”

  “You were listening!”

  Hands on her hips, Angie looked indignant. “Of course I was listening. How did I know he wasn’t . . . What if he had some kind of ulterior motive? I wanted to be ready to jump in and save you. I’m your friend.”

  “Well, now, don’t you feel silly?”

  “Not one little bit, my friend. I enjoyed the whole conversation. I’m thinking this guy might just be the one for you, Lucy.”

  Lucy laughed. A joyous sound. “I think you might be right.”

  Angie walked over to the kitchen door to look at the temperature gauge hanging underneath the hurricane lamp. “Oooh, it’s forty-four degrees. How’s your foot?”

  “Really itchy. I was able to fix it myself when I got up. I can’t believe how quickly it healed. Some spots are still very tender, but I’m out of the woods, and I’m almost finished with the pills. I know, I know. Don’t say it. I am so lucky, and I know it. By next week I should be able to wear a tennis shoe if I don’t lace it up.”

  “Lucy, are you taking all your things? Or are you going to leave some stuff here?”

  “Well, believe it or not, I don’t have all that much. I pretty much live in jeans and shirts. My fashionable wear is all in two garment bags. I plan to just dump everything in some lawn bags. Shoes and boots in one, winter jackets and sweaters in another. Three bags plus the garment bags, and I’m good to go. What about you?”

  “My stuff is still in my car. I never unpacked when I got here, because you weren’t here, and I don’t know . . . I just didn’t feel like unpacking. And then I called and found out about you and headed for Florida. Fifteen minutes, and I’m with you.”

  Lucy grinned. “When was the last time you slept in your clothes?”

  “I don’t think I ever did. We should do it more often. Look! We’re ready!”

  Luke took that moment to blow through the door. “It’s cold out there, ladies, so be sure to dress warmly. Breakfast is served!” he said, opening the heated silver bags and setting out three fried-egg sandwiches.

  “Oh, God! This is so good. You should try Lucy’s fried-egg sandwiches, Luke. They’re even better than these are, and these are good.”

  Conversation consisted of Luke’s telling the girls about his father’s cooking obsession after his stroke and how he tried to replicate his wife’s recipes. “Sometimes, he is spot-on, but I never admit that to him, and neither does Adel. We always tell him something is missing or he almost has it but not quite. I don’t want him to give up and sit in front of the television. He lives to cook. I think he feeds half of Palm Royal.”

  “That is so sweet,” Angie said. “Does he bake, too?”

  “Sort of. He has tried for two years to bake a better angel food cake than Adel. And, according to Adel, he actually succeeded, but she wouldn’t tell him. She just keeps saying he doesn’t get the vanilla right or he beats the egg whites too long. One thing about my dad is that he doesn’t give up. I’d love to tell him about all of this, but I can’t take the chance he won’t say something to someone. Sometimes he forgets. He’d know exactly what to do.”

  “When he isn’t cooking, what does he do?” Lucy asked.

  “He plays poker one night a week with Bud, Judge Wylie, who is a widower, too, and lives two doors away, a couple of the neighbors, and a stock boy from Publix, who, according to my dad, is the biggest cardsharp he’s ever seen. He walks twice a day. There are two widows he favors with his company from time to time. He goes into the office at least twice a week to tell everyone what to do. He spends quite a bit of his evening time on the Internet with my sister and the kids. We keep him busy. When my mother died, he went completely to pieces. They weren’t husband and wife—well, they were—but they were one entity. That’s how my sister and I thought of them. Actually, anyone who knew them thought the same thing. It was a hard couple of years till he came out of his cocoon and joined the world again.”

  “I hope I get to meet him someday,” Lucy said. “He sounds just the way a father should be.”

  Angie, sensing a possible Lucy shutdown, interjected forcefully, “I think it’s time for all of us to get on the stick and get out of here. I, for one, am ready. I folded everything up in the family room. The fire is out, and I closed the glass doors. Refresh my memory, Lucy. Are we leaving your parents’ winter clothes in the closet? Or are we packing them?”

  “My gut says leave them. Luke, disconnect the fridge and all the TVs. It will take me only fifteen minutes to toss my stuff in the bags. Don’t forget my Crock-Pots. I’m taking all three of them. They’re right there on the kitchen counter.”

  “You have three Crock-Pots?” Luke asked in amazement.

  “She’s
the Crock-Pot queen!” Angie laughed.

  “Now, that’s funny. My guys call me the Crock-Pot king. That’s how I cook when I’m on-site. You got any good recipes?” He twinkled.

  “Nah. I just toss everything in the pot and hope for the best.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Luke continued to laugh.

  Angie jabbed Lucy in the ribs. “Who knew! You guys have sooo much in common. Guess you’re really meant for each other. I bet you could somehow work that into IBL.”

  “Where’s that FedEx box? Don’t let me forget it.”

  “What is it?” Angie asked.

  “The prototype of Dizzie, the duck. I’m adding a new character to my trio.”

  “Oh, Lucy, that’s great!” Angie said, clapping her hands.

  “I’m excited about it, and so is Henry. He said the sales department told him that advance orders of everything have tripled, and once the advertising gets under way, they expect everything to go through the roof.”

  “Okay, then, let’s get to it,” Lucy said, looking around her bedroom. She quickly straightened out the covers on the bed and started dumping her clothes into the plastic bags. “See,” she said, “I was right. Fifteen minutes on the dot.”

  “Did you check your night tables?” Angie called from the doorway.

  “Good thinking. I forgot.”

  “What did you forget?” Luke asked from the doorway as he picked up one of the plastic bags.

  “My drawers in my night table. Oh, my gosh, I would have forgotten this,” Lucy said as she reached into a drawer and pulled out a little box. “It’s my first tooth. The tooth fairy left me a silver dollar. I remember how shiny it was. Look!”

  Angie and Luke crowded closer to look into the little box. “You lost two teeth at the same time?” Luke asked.

  “No, no. The little tiny one is mine. The other one is my mother’s first baby tooth. She gave it to me.” Lucy bit down on her lower lip as her eyes started to burn.

  “Are you sure it’s hers?”