Page 72 of Remember Me

“Stay put. We’ll talk to the people at the information center, explain the situation, and get permission to drive our pickup here. Then, we’ll take her with us.”

Kayla’s face burns red with rage. I swear if she could walk she would physically assault one of us.

“Are you really serious, Phineas? You’re going to leave me alone with two derelict strangers who could possibly abduct me? And make me travel in a truck?”

I bite down on my bottom lip to refrain from laughing and admire the thick skin of the lovely couple. They have a sense of humor! A half-hour later, despite a tantrum, Kayla is out of sight. Out of mind.

And Maddie is having the time of her life on the tractor ride. Make that...weare having the time ofourlives. The three of us. Finn, Maddie, and me.

CHAPTER 44

Skye

The grassy picnic area near the entrance of the apple farm is filled with families and kids. While some have managed to snag one of the scattered planked tables, most like us are seated on blankets spread out on the ground.

Next to the jug of cider we made is a big wicker basket. We’ve devoured almost everything Rosita packed for us. The scrumptious Mexican lunch included fresh guacamole and chips, tacosde carnitas, andesquites, a tasty grilled corn salad. Plus the yummy apple donuts I bought at the village bakery.

The early afternoon weather is divine. The clean, fragrant air is crisp, and the sun shines brightly in the clear blue sky. Everything is picture postcard perfect. Nearby, two aging musicians are playing oldies but goodies. Harmonizing, the shaggy-haired men, one paunchy, the other wiry, strum their amped up guitars. Despite their years, they’re actually really good, and probably in their heyday in the early eighties, they were a popular duo that got lots of gigs. Children of all ages are frolicking on the grass to the classic songs, including Maddie. Leaving me alone with Finn.

After I stash everything in the picnic basket and move it out of the way, Finn sprawls out on the plaid blanket, propped up on his elbows, his tattooed biceps flexing as he holds his head between his fists. Admiring his long lean, muscular body, I reposition myself so I’m lying next to him. Both of us have our eyes on barefooted Maddie, who’s uninhibitedly swirling andwhirling to the rockabilly music. It’s hard to believe that this robust little girl almost died of an asthma attack a few weeks ago.

At the sight of her, joy surges inside me. “She’s such a free spirit,” I say, adjusting the sunglasses I’ve put on.

Finn doesn’t take his eyes off her either, but I can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, she is. Sometimes I wish her mother could see her.”

At his unexpected words, my breath hitches. “Maybe she can.”

“What do you mean?”

We turn to face each other. His eyes search mine, waiting for me to elaborate.

Keeping my gaze on him, I falter for words. “I mean, maybe her presence is here.”

“Like an angel?”

“Yes. In a spiritual way.”

His tone grows serious. “Do you believe in life after death, Scarlet?”

“Yes. I do.” How could I not? I’m a living example. I died and came back. I was given a second chance like none other. “What about you?”

“I’m not sure though I’d like to believe we come back in other forms.”

His response makes my skin prickle. “Do you think about your wife a lot?”

“All the time. I can’t help it. Maddie is the spitting image of her.” He pauses. “And not just physically. She inherited a lot of her mother’s personality. Her inquisitiveness, spunk, and courage.” A wistful smile lifts his lips. “They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Your wife sounds like she is... I mean,wasan amazing woman.”

“Yes, she was.” His voice is melancholic, like he’s drifting back in time. “Perhaps, you know her.”

My vocal cords are on the verge of imploding. I want to scream out I know her well.Sowell. I. Am. Her.Instead, I swallow back the words and ask, “What do you mean?”

“She was a well-known reporter for Conquest Broadcasting. Skye Collins.”

“Skye Collins.” I repeat back my name slowly, reflectively. It’s the first time I’ve spoken it in ages. It feels so natural on my lips yet so alien. “Yes, I remember her. She died in a car accident, right?”

“Yes, a terrible accident. Her car went over Mulholland.” His jaw ticks, hesitance etched on his face. “The police believe she was murdered.”

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