Chapter 1
Saturday, February 16, 1974, Kokomo, Indiana
April Mathers pulled into the Joy Ann Bakery lot and, though it appeared full, she found a space on the far end near the street. Thankfully the temperature wasn’t freezing, with a high of fifty-four promised by WIOU’s DJ. He most likely just read the information provided, but Wayne Cody was usually right. Still, at seven-thirty in the morning, it was a tad nippy. April could see her breath as she hustled inside.
The waitress turned from putting more doughnuts into the case. “May I help—” She faltered, recognizing April at the same moment April recognized her. She cleared her throat. “May I help you?” All friendliness vanished from her tone, leaving only her icy words and more chill in the air.
If that’s how she wanted things, Corina Broadstreet could have it. There was no love lost between the two of them, and the less interaction April had to have with her, the better. “I’d like one dozen doughnuts—make it a variety box. Please.” Seeing the former classmate only brought up hard things, hidden thoughts she needed to keep under lock and key, especially when it also brought up the boy she tried hard to forget.
“I take it this is to go.” A flat statement. Or maybe a taunt by the glare accompanying it.
It was too early in the morning to know for sure. Did she say that because she was that stupid, or because she wanted to start something? She’d tried apologizing to the woman more than once but still ended up with this sort of reaction. April clamped her teeth on her tongue to hold back her retort. Of course she wanted it to go. Even if Corina was tossing out a dare to stay, April had moved on and had other things on her mind. And if it weren’t for the people waiting for her back at the apartments, she’d have walked out and gone to Dietzen’s Bakery instead even though it was a lot farther. Just to be rid of Corina’s presence.
April slowed her breathing before she answered. “Yes, to go. Please.” There. She’d made nice. And maybe she’d get out of this place before anything else added to her wrecked morning.
She was supposed to have slept in to celebrate her first Saturday off in a month. But then her sweet neighbor Tracy Callahan, along with her friends, woke her. On accident, but still. Tracy was moving today, and April had done all she could to forget that fact. But now faced with it, she dove in to help. This time doing a quick run for yummy sustenance for the crew. Another reason that the sooner she got out of this place, the better. The key word here was quick—quick run, quick escape.
Corina boxed up the treats and took the package to the cash register. “That comes to $2.09 with tax.”
April silently handed her three ones and waited with her hand outstretched for the change.
Instead of handing it to her, Corina slapped it on the counter, shoved the box a little closer, and walked away.
Wouldn’t anyone ever forgive and forget?
With her head held high, April scooped up the coins and stuck them in the pocket of her jeans before picking up the doughnut box and hightailing it out of there.
You know that you could forgive her too.
Now she shook her head. It wasn’t the morning to be convicted over what she didn’t have time for.
Joy Ann’s had been a place April liked to occasionally stop by for a treat—they made the best crème horns—but if it meant running into the ol’ gossip of Broadstreet, she’d locate another happy place. Anything to avoid that blabbermouth. Okay, maybe she was being too hard on the unhappy wretch. Or maybe she deserved it. Either way, there were too many painful memories associated with that woman, and it was best all-around if April avoided her.
Watching for hidden ice that hadn’t completely melted, she made it to her car and headed for home. She glanced at the box riding shotgun with her and hoped her friends would appreciate her restraint in not sampling before she got it back to them.
However, when she returned her view to watching where she was going, her glance dropped to the gauges behind her steering wheel. One in particular, her gas gauge, that should’ve pointed to an F. Only this time she noticed the needle now pointed to E.
Could she not catch a break?
Right. She’d planned to fill it up last evening on the way home from work, but she’d been so tired, so she promised herself she’d do it first thing this morning. Lesson learned. Don’t make promises when you’re too exhausted to remember.
She sent up a little prayer for enough fumes to get her to the complex and then to the gas station on her next trip, but the thought had barely winged itself skyward when her engine sputtered. Then shut off.
April was having the same kind of day that Alexander had in that book she’d read to her nephews the last time she babysat them. A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.
Are you sure?
She was cranky enough to want to shout “Yes!” but needed to get her car out of the middle of the street.
At least there was an open spot along the curb.
Parallel parking was not her strong suit, but you couldn’t tell from this parking job, and she did it without a running motor while walking alongside and steering via the open driver’s door. Almost picture perfect. She smiled. Maybe things were looking up.
That’s when she looked up.
To the sign that read No Parking.
That explained the empty curb. And fit right in with the rest of her day.
Maybe if she ran all the way home—only a little over half a mile—Tracy or someone would give her a ride to a gas station and back to her car. She pulled the doughnut box from the passenger seat, locked up her Dodge Dart, and took off for the apartments.
By the time she arrived, she heaved for breath as she handed the treats to Danny Mitchell, Tracy’s fiancé, who was just coming out of the apartment. Then, once relieved of the box, she bent over with her hands on her knees, sucking in as much air as she could.
“April, are you all right?” Tracy appeared beside her and rubbed her back.
She nodded and held up her index finger.
“Hey, where is your car?” Sue MacKenzie joined Tracy, along with Sue’s husband Mac, while Danny rolled his wheelchair alongside.
April pushed out sound with effort. “I…ah…ran out…of…gas.” And I’m way too out of shape. Good grief. “Need ride…please.”
“Of course! I’ll take you. Tracy, you oughta stay here, and Mac and Danny will keep helping. We’ll be back in a couple minutes.” Organized Sue took control and steered April toward her green Bug while fishing her keys from her pocket. “Oh, wait a minute. I need my purse. Be right back.” She turned and raced for Tracy’s apartment.
That was fine by April. She used the moment just to sit and let her heart rate finish dropping to normal. At least she was breathing and not huffing. In fact, the only problem now was her eyes watered up as a full-strength pity party began. This morning was ruined. No sleeping in, her car might be getting a ticket this very instant, and of course, Corina Broadstreet brought up all the guilty memories that her name conjured.
Judith Viorst’s Alexander knew what he was talking about.
The driver’s door opened, and Sue climbed in. “Now we’re good to—hey, what’s the matter?”
April shook her head. “It’s just all catching up with me, I guess. Ever have one of those days?”
“Definitely. Want to talk about it? Oh, you better tell me where we’re going first.”
April suggested a gas station close by. “I don’t think it really hit me that Tracy is moving away until this morning, and then it’s been one thing after another. You would not believe.”
“Actually, I get it. You know, Tracy and I used to be roommates, in college and in that very apartment. That’s how she met my brother.”
Sue chuckled and April joined her.
Then she continued, a little more seriously. “Though I was good and ready to be Mac’s wife, it was still hard to leave my best friend behind. We had such great times.”
April nodded in solidarity, glad Sue understood.
“You know, I wouldn’t be with Mac if she hadn’t encouraged me to take that chance, and I wouldn’t have tried for the museum position I’d always wanted without her pushing me to try.”
“But, Sue, what about knowing she was there for you?” Though April hated to use the word, abandonment still lurked on the tip of her tongue.
“We both knew things wouldn’t ever be the same once Mac and I married and I moved out, but we still see each other and do fun things together when we can. Maybe not as much as we’d want, but more than we expected.” Sue peeked over at her before turning the corner. “I know Tracy enjoys having you next door. I’m sure she’ll want to keep in contact.”
“I’m glad of that. I’d like that too.” April squashed her insecurities, at least for this moment. “Where is she moving to? I mean the wedding isn’t for another month, so this is happening sooner than I thought. Where’s she going to stay?”
“With Mac and me. We have a spare room. She’s going to store things with her parents in Tipton, but that’s too far to go to keep her job.”
April nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s true. And you’ll get more time together.” She sighed. “Not many people around that I feel comfortable hanging out with these days. You guys are the best. Tracy’s been a super neighbor. I can’t imagine anyone else coming close to being that great.”
“Tracy didn’t tell you?” Sue parked near the gas station’s office as April’s heart thudded.
“Tell me what?”
“She already has someone to sub-lease.” Sue pointed toward the attendant in the doorway. “I’m sure they have a gas can you can borrow.”
But April was still churning over the fact that someone else already had the go-ahead to move in next door to her. “Who? Who’s moving in?”
“One of Mac and Danny’s Nam guys. He’s new—in fact he hasn’t started going to their meetings since he’s been living out of state. Apparently, he read one of Danny’s articles in a magazine and contacted him. And just like that, he’s moving here so he can be in the group.”
Tracy had told her about the support group for Viet Nam vets that Mac and Danny ran. But to think someone moved here just to join them? And what did they know about this dude? Those insecurities were back with a vengeance. “Where did he move from?”
“Florida, I think. Don’t ask me for details. They won’t even tell Tracy or me. The guys are pretty tight about letting out information. That way, the vets all know they can trust them.”
“Yeah, I get that.” It made sense. Stuff like that needed to have confidentiality. But that didn’t ease the unease in her stomach. April opened the car door and stepped out. “Is it okay for you to tell me his name?”
Sue closed her door and peered over the top of her Bug. “Sure. It’s Paul Romer.”
April closed the door on her fingers.
Paul Romer braked at the light, one that dangled high over the highway, and used the moment to reread his directions. Take a left at the light on Lincoln. He glanced at the street sign. Yep, this was Lincoln. He flipped the turn signal of the small, rented U-Haul.
And that reminded him, he’d better fill up with gas while he was thinking of it. Too often his thoughts flitted away these days.
He spotted a Texaco sign and pulled into their lot, parking next to the pump. A guy hustled over as Paul hopped out to stretch his legs. It’d been quite the drive, but he was finally in Kokomo.
“Hey, aren’t you Paul? Paul Romer?” The attendant stood grinning. Could he have really recognized Paul?
“Um, yeah…”
The attendant grabbed Paul’s hand and shook it. “Charlie. Charlie Harshman. We played varsity b-ball together.”
“Right. Charlie. Good to see you.” Did that cover things enough? Paul would’ve loved to have remembered the guy. He seemed nice enough. But it wasn’t possible. And the last thing he wanted to do was explain to Nice Guy Charlie that there was no way he remembered him no matter how hard he tried. Some things just didn’t happen. “So what are you doing these days, besides pumping gas?”
“Actually, I’m running the whole operation. Bought my old man out. Got married and settled down with Brenda—you remember her, right? Brenda Marvin?” Charlie grinned as if anyone could ever forget his wife.
Sorry, Charlie, it wasn’t on purpose.
“I think so. You two were an item back then?”
Charlie laughed. “Only in my dreams. Until she asked me to the Autumn Prom our senior year and that was all it took. We’ve got a little boy and another one on the way. Bren is due come June.”
“That’s great, man. Happy for you.” Paul paused. He had to get off memory lane for a moment. “Hey, could you fill ’er up for me?”
“Sure, man.” He lifted the nozzle from the pump and, after unscrewing the truck’s tank cap, the gas started flowing. “Bren is gonna flip her gourd when I tell her I saw you. It sure has been a while. Where’ve you been, dude?”
Paul took a breath. “I did a tour in Nam, and when it was time to come home, my folks had moved to Florida, so that’s where I went.”
“But you’ve got the U-Haul. Does that mean you’re moving back?” Charlie sounded way too hopeful.
“Thought I’d give it a try.” He climbed back into the driver’s seat, hoping to bring this painful conversation to a close.
Charlie turned off the gas and replaced the cap. “Seven bucks. We’ve got to get together while you’re here. Come back by and let me know where you’re staying.”
“I will.” Paul held out the five and two ones. “Good to see you. Give my best to Brenda.”
“I will.” Charlie patted the door, waved, and hustled back inside the building where it was undoubtedly warmer.
Paul pulled the door shut and drove onto Lincoln again, looking for the next turn-off. If all went well, he’d be arriving at his new place in under five minutes. Home before nine in the morning. Again, he was glad to have stopped for the night in Indianapolis, getting himself revived to handle today. He never could’ve managed that conversation with Charlie if he hadn’t.
His folks did everything they could to help him and still prayed for a miracle. But amnesia caused by his brain injury couldn’t be reversed. So no matter how hard they prayed, he was for all intents and purposes a blank slate looking for a fresh start.
No, that wasn’t exactly true.
First, there were tiny bits of his memory that didn’t get removed by the accident, only they had nothing to connect with because all context was gone. He hoped that somehow he’d run into something or someone who came with these minuscule flashes to help him learn who he was, even if he couldn’t remember.
Jim Croce’s voice pulled him back to the present. Oh, if only he’d had the wherewithal to save his memories in a bottle as a backup plan. Paul turned the radio down and resumed his thoughts.
He also prayed that being with a group of vets would mean someone understood him. But that might be too much to ask.
However, that was one of the reasons the article by Sergeant Major Daniel Mitchell spoke to him and why he followed up. The other reason was the name of the town. Kokomo. Sure, after talking to Danny on the phone, he learned that the meetings were actually in a nearby small burg called Alto, but according to his parents, Kokomo was where he grew up, went to school, and did everything that an all-American boy did before going off to war.
And if Charlie was any indication, there were people in this town who could fill in a few blanks and help him recapture a snapshot or two of his past.
One more right turn and he’d arrive at his destination. There. He spotted the filled truck outside the apartment. One guy in a wheelchair caught his gaze and waved. Must be Danny.
Paul pulled up behind the Dodge truck and hopped out. He might be saying hi to strangers, but that was an everyday occurrence for him. What wasn’t routine was the impression that this was a turning point in his life. A simple moment to determine his future. He shook the heavy thought away.
“Hey, Paul, you made great time. I’m Danny.” The guy in the wheelchair kept talking as he wheeled closer. He nodded toward a tall guy behind him. “This is Mac. My best friend and brother-in-law who is taking the music business by storm.”
Mac held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Paul. Ignore Danny. You’ll get used to him. Glad to have you join our group.”
A pretty girl exited the apartment, her hands filled with a box.
“That’s my fiancée, Tracy. You’ll be moving into her place as soon as we get the rest of her stuff out. C’mon over, Trace, and meet Paul.”
“In a sec.” She set her box in the back of the already-full truck bed and hustled over, wiping her hand on her jeans before offering it to him. “Nice to meet you, Paul. I’m sorry we’re not out already.” Then she caught Mac and Danny’s gaze. “It’s a good thing I haven’t had the phone turned off yet. Sue called from St. Joe’s. April slammed her fingers in her car door and they’re checking to see if they’re broken.”
“She did what?” Danny wheeled his chair to face her.
“They’d arrived at the filling station and were talking over the top of the car when April closed her door on her fingers. That poor thing has had the worst morning. First, we wake her being too boisterous, then she runs out of gas trying to do something kind for us, and now this. No one would believe it if it happened in a Movie of the Week.”
“Do they know if her fingers are broken for sure?” Paul’s gut cringed. She was only a mention by Tracy, whom he’d just met, but April had a name and most likely a past and she was a fellow human being in pain. At the very least, she deserved a little empathy from him.
Tracy continued. “She’s had X-rays, but they were waiting for the doctor to tell them what they found. Sue said she’d bring her straight home, and then if you, Mac, could go with her, you two would take care of her car.”
“Sure. Hey, Paul, maybe we should show you around.” Mac turned to the apartment without waiting to see if anyone followed.
Danny did, but Tracy stopped. “Hey, don’t you think I should finish the clean up, so Paul gets a good first impression of the place?”
Mac turned around. “Paul, are you good with a bit of mess while we finish getting Tracy here out of your crib?”
Paul chuckled. He was going to like these people. “Not a problem.” He held out his hand to Tracy, motioning her to go first, and then followed the group into his new digs.
Tracy was right, there were still things to clean, but it wasn’t awful. Apparently the place came with basic furniture—a couch, chair, and coffee table in the living room, a small dinette set in the kitchen, and beds and dressers in the two bedrooms. They appeared to be the same size and design, so either one would be fine by him.
Danny did a quick glance out the door. “What all did you bring with you? We probably ought to have discussed that it was semi-furnished.”
“Yeah, though my mom would’ve sent all the same stuff, I’m sure. She packed up some boxes of things, said they’d remind me of home.” Paul glanced away, hoping they wouldn’t see the futility in his eyes.
Mac put a hand on his shoulder. “Moms are like that. It only means she loves you.”
“Yeah, I keep telling myself that.”
Tracy came over, concern pinching the bridge of her nose. “Are you okay?”
Danny cleared his throat. “Mac and I make it a policy to not share anything outside of our group with anyone, including the girls. Even our conversations, just so you know. It’s up to you if you share, though I will say that our women are trustworthy prayer warriors. But they will not learn anything from us.”
That spoke volumes to Paul, even though Danny had given him the Reader’s Digest version of that when they talked on the phone. Mac and Danny just climbed miles in his estimation.
Paul took a couple of breaths. “I was in an attack in Nam and received a head injury that caused permanent amnesia. I can’t remember anything from before the hospital, including my family. They are kind and loving people, and I’ve grown fond of them, but it’s like getting to know strangers. It has made for some awkward moments, so I’m hoping that a little space will help.”
“Oh, I see. I’m so sorry.” The compassion shining in her eyes validated her words. But she didn’t ask a lot of questions or press for degrees of amnesia, and that raised her up there with Danny and Mac. These were good people. It gave him hope in a way that nothing else had.
A car door slammed.
Paul glanced out to see two chicks walking toward them from a green VW Bug. The tall one appeared to be mothering the shorter blonde. That made him smile. Until the blonde raised her face.
The flash popped in his head. Just long enough for him to see the girl again. The same one who was walking toward the apartment.
Some strange voltage jolted him, and he turned away, wandering deeper into the apartment’s interior.
Part of him wanted to race to her and beg her to tell him how he knew her. Another part, the stronger one, pulled him into the shadows to watch her from where she wouldn’t notice him. Not for perverse reasons, but to see if he could make a current memory for the flash to connect to. Silently, without fuss.
Tracy was the first to go to her. “Oh, April, I am so sorry. Are they broken?”
“Yeah, I get to wear this splint for around four weeks. He said the breaks aren’t bad as breaks go, and because it’s at the tip of these two guys—” She held up her splinted index and middle fingers on her left hand. “—it should heal faster. Oh, and I’m young and strong.” She shook her head, swiping her hair from her shoulder and laughed. “At least he didn’t call me young and stupid. I can’t believe I did this.”
The other girl guided April to the couch. “Let me get you your pain pills. That’s what took us longer.” She told everyone else while she turned toward the kitchen. “We stopped at the pharmacy to get it filled. Just glad there was no one in line ahead of us. Did we pack all the glasses?”
“I’ll find one.” Mac hustled out the door.
Leaving a straight view for April to see Paul.
He knew the second her gaze landed on him. She’d been smiling as Mac went out, glanced toward the kitchen where Tracy and the other chick pulled open cabinets to double check despite Mac running for the rescue. Then somehow, she scanned to where Paul stood in the shadows of the hallway. Her eyes widened, her mouth formed an O, and the color left her already pale cheeks.
She remembered him. But it didn’t appear to be a good memory.
