Page 5 of Back to Square One

Rowan laughed as Stevie pointed to the door that led down to the bedrooms. “You guys are down there. I picked my room, so decide which of the other two you want.”

“I can tell you what I do want,” Becca said. “Is there beer? That was a long-ass drive.”

“There is. Take your stuff down and I’ll get you one.”

“God, this place is amazing,” Jazzy said as she took in the living space and followed her girlfriend toward the downstairs door.

Once they were on their way downstairs, Stevie caught Rowan’s eye. “Doing okay?”

Rowan nodded, but added sheepishly, “I know I slept for most of the ride, but I think I’m going to take another quick nap, if that’s okay.” She got super tired, super fast—another side effect of what she’d been through.

“Babe, you’re on vacay. You can do whatever the hell you want.”

Rowan gave her a grateful smile. “ ’Kay. Be down in a bit.”

Upstairs in her room, she closed the door and crossed to the windows, where she simply stood and stared. The lake was a gorgeous blue, sparkling in the sunlight, an occasional boat speeding by in the distance, leaving a white line behind it. She could see the beach area—the house had its own section of private beach, Stevie had informed her—but nobody was out there yet, obviously.

Down below, closer to the house, was a fire pit surrounded by Adirondack chairs in a whole rainbow of colors. Apropos, she thought with a smile, since everybody there this week was queer.

A yawn cranked her mouth open wide, and she stretched her arms over her head. This fatigue was new to her, this need to nap. She’d never been a napper. Napping meant you missed part of the day, and that had always been a no-no for her. But now? She had no choice. If she didn’t nap when her body told her to, she’d end up asleep by seven in the evening. She wasn’t happy about it—she worried about missing important parts of her days—but after some experimenting, she’d found an hour to be the perfect amount of rest time. Less than that didn’t seem to help her tiredness. Longer just left her groggy and angry about it. The car ride had been an exception—she was stressed from all her mother’s doting, plus the lull of the humming engine had contributed. Now she pulled out her phone and set her alarm for sixty minutes, then stretched out on the bed facing the windows so she could watch the birds glide by on the breeze. She was glad to be here, happy to see friends. There was definitely a melancholy aspect to this trip, but she’d expected that and was doing her best to ignore it.

It didn’t take long for her eyelids to grow heavy, and soon she was out.

Chapter Two

Rowan opened her eyes when her alarm went off. The sun was low in the sky, way far to the left in her windows, heading for the horizon, and she lay there for a long moment, just taking in what she could see of the view from the bed. It also made her realize that she’d have a front row seat for the sunrise, if she was up early enough.

Pushing herself to a sitting position, she stretched her muscles gently, taking stock. She felt better. Less exhausted. It wasn’t uncommon for her to wake up with a headache after a nap, but today, she felt good. She could hear muffled conversation coming from downstairs, some music playing on a low volume, and then laughter rang out, bringing a smile to Rowan’s lips. A quick trip to the bathroom to fix her hair and her face, and she headed downstairs.

“There she is,” Stevie said, her face bright and her voice strong.

Rowan smiled and lifted her hand in a small wave. “Hi, everybody. Sorry.”

“Oh my God, don’t be sorry.” Lizzie Becker came around the kitchen island and wrapped her in a hug. Justine DiGiovanni didn’t let her wife get in her way, and she wrapped Rowan up from behind, the two of them making a Rowan sandwich.

“You look amazing,” Justine said, her lips close to Rowan’s ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Not bad,” Rowan said, internally wondering when people would stop asking her that. “The nap helped.”

“Good,” Lizzie said, then briefly touched Rowan’s face. “What can we get you? Justine’s getting burgers ready for the grill. We’ve got salad and potatoes. Beer. Wine.”

Behind her, Stevie was holding up a bottle of the non-alcoholic beer she’d brought for her, and Rowan nodded. “Perfect.” She was still on some medication, so she tried to limit the alcohol, but the NA would let her feel like she was part of the crowd.

She looked around at this group of friends, people she’d known for years. There was now a gap in her memory around each of them, but she forced her brain to remind her of what she did know.

Stevie—salt of the earth, as her grandmother would say. The best person Rowan knew. Easily. Kind, surprisingly soft heart. Tough when she needed to be. She was the person who would stop her truck in the middle of the road to move a turtle to the shoulder so it didn’t get run over. She was the person you called when you needed something heavy moved or you locked yourself out or you just needed a hug. She was humanity personified.

Becca—a nice person most of the time. Could be abrasive, especially when drinking. Appreciated the beauty of a woman, sometimes to her own detriment. Never one to settle down with one, though that had apparently changed with Jasmine. Biting sense of humor.

Jasmine was a wild card. Rowan didn’t know her, which meant she also didn’t have a memory gap around her. She was actually the first new person Rowan had met since the accident—not counting medical personnel—and that was somehow a relief.

Lizzie—raucous. The life of the party, always. Loud. Brash. But a decent human. She’d be the one on the water skis, on the inner tube, inventing a drinking game. If you were throwing a party, Lizzie was the person you wanted to be sure to invite. She’d keep things fun, and she’d give Becca a run for her money as far as who was louder, funnier, and more obnoxious.

Justine—the calm to Lizzie’s storm. Probably why they worked so well together. Content to sit back quietly and let her wife have the spotlight, gentle smile on her face. Food was love. If she made you your favorite meal or brought you a sandwich, you mattered to her.

These were important people in her life, people who had known her for quite some time, most of them. And this was when the gaps in her memory took a toll, angered her. She hated that there were things about them, things that had happened to them—both positive and negative—that she didn’t know. Or rather, she didn’t know any longer. Things they’d done together, conversations they’d had, secrets they’d shared.

Stevie met her gaze from across the room and mouthed, okay? Rowan smiled and nodded and did her best to tug her thoughts back to the present moment.