Page 57 of The Two Last Moments

Then I hear a small inhale of surprise. The barista behind the counter is staring. “Lark! Wow, long time, no see.”

Lark freezes next to me. Goes completely still. I’m not even sure she’s breathing.

“Hey, you all right?” I whisper. “Do you want me to get you out of here?”

Her brave expression returns. “No. I’ve… I’ve got it.” She’s still holding my hand as she walks up to the counter, and I follow behind her. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you. How do you know me?”

The barista laughs. Her white halter top sets off her dark skin, and honey-colored curls are piled on top of her head. “Wait. You’re serious?”

Lark nods.

“I’m Denise. But you’ve only been in here about a million times. What’s going on with you?”

“I was in an accident. I lost my memory.” Lark glances over at me like she’s looking for corroboration.

I’m tempted to check Lark’s pulse, but that might distract or annoy her. Instead, I stand at a protective angle near Lark’s shoulder. “She was in the hospital,” I say. Meanwhile, my brain is trying to sort out what the heck is happening.

Lark was at the same café where someone sent emails about my uncle. Why?

“That’s insane,” Denise says. “But you’re okay? Was it like a head injury or something?”

“It’s complicated. I just can’t believe you know me. Do you know my last name?”

“Wow. Nobody has ever asked me that question before.” Denise blinks for a few more seconds, then comes around to the other side of the counter and hugs her. Lark seems hesitant at first, then returns Denise’s gesture.

Denise turns to the other woman working behind the coffee counter. “Hey, could we get some of those cookies that just came out of the oven?” Then she looks back at us. “I’m going to need to sit down for this conversation.”

We head to the corner table. Lark is the last one to sit down. She’s staring at the table like it’s going to reach out and bite her.

I press my knee against hers, and she nods at me.I’m okay.

“I don’t know your last name,” Denise says. “I never even thought about that before. You used to come in all the time. Like, every day for a while. And you’d said—”

“I sat here?” Lark interrupts. “This table?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Denise shakes her head in disbelief. The other barista brings over a plate stacked with chocolate chip cookies. “So, wait a minute. Is it just a coincidence that you’re coming in here? Or was it like, intuition or something? Leading you back here?”

That’s the big question, isn’t it?

Lark seems to be lost for words.

“Maybe we should start at the beginning,” I say. “The beginning for Lark, anyway. Then it might make more sense.”

Lark nods for me to go ahead. Her hand rests on my thigh under the table, and I place my hand over hers. Hoping to steady her however I can.

I explain to Denise how I found Lark after she’d been hit by a car. How she’s been staying with me for over a month now. I leave out Kathy Sullivan. If Lark wants to share that part of her story, I’ll let her be the one to do it.

Lark squirms uncomfortably while I speak, and then she interrupts me. “But we came here for a different reason. We were hoping to find Danny’s uncle. His name is Travis Bradley.” Lark pulls out the picture that we printed before coming. “This is him. He would be older now. Is there any chance you recognize him?”

Denise studies the photo. “I don’t. I’m sorry. I don’t get how he fits into you coming back here, though.”

“I don’t get it either,” Lark mumbles.

I try to catch her eye.Whatever the explanation, it’s going to be all right, I want to say.We’ll figure it out. But she won’t look at me.

“Could you tell me more about, um, me?” she asks. “How do you know me exactly?”

Denise breaks off a piece of cookie, shifting in her chair. “Like I said, you would always sit at this table. You usually had a laptop with you. You did some kind of freelance work, I think? Anyway, you would come in when Cam was working, and when he went on break, he would bring you a cinnamon latte and sit down with you. We could’ve set our clocks by it.”

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