Page 20 of Tell Me You Love Me Again

“My bad, Snook. What did you say?” I asked.

“I said I was ready. They’re waiting for you to give them your account information. I told them I didn’t remember it.” She looked sad when she said that. I pulled her body into mine and kissed her forehead.

“It’s okay, Snook. I got it.” I kissed her again before going to the counter and giving them my information so they could set up her phone. It took all of ten minutes and we were done.

“You hungry?” I asked, as we made our way back to the truck. I placed the bags in the back seat before I helped her inside and getting in myself.

“I am.” She smiled softly.

I pulled out of the mall’s parking lot and headed toward the river walk to her favorite brunch spot. I’m hoping the familiarity of the place will unlock some memories. This was one of the places I brought her when we started dating. It had just opened, and I was able to secure us a table for a late lunch. She fell in love with the atmosphere and the food, so it has been one of our spots ever since. When I pulled up, I noticed the expression on her face, and I smiled inwardly.

“You know where you’re at?” I asked as I parked my truck in the parking spot.

“I do,” she uttered. She turned her head toward me and smiled. “This is my favorite place for brunch and their mimosas.” She giggled.

“Yeah, you can definitely take down some bottomless mimosas.” We both laughed. I got out, then went around to help her out and headed inside. The place hadn’t changed much, but I noticed a few upgrades. The hostess came and sat us quickly and I ordered for the both of us. I knew Chi loved their pineapplemimosas, and I just needed a beer. They could keep that fruity shit. I ordered her the chicken and waffles with the red velvet waffles, and I got the ribeye with eggs and potatoes. While we waited for our drinks, I took the time to just admire my wife. She was sitting across from me, and I noticed her looking around.

“What’s on your mind, Snook?” I asked. The waiter came and sat our drinks down and left quickly. I looked at her, waiting for her to answer.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed.

“Nah, baby. We don’t do that. Tell me what’s on your mind,” I insisted.

Sighing dejectedly, she opened her mouth to start speaking, but stopped before any words came out. Getting up from my seat across from her, I took a seat beside her.

“Talk to me, Snook. What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking about how I could remember my family, and not my husband. I know that can’t be easy for you. I’m trying. I really am, and I really appreciate your patience through all of this.” I wiped the tears that streamed down her face and kissed her forehead.

“Snook, you don’t have a reason to feel bad. If you don’t remember what we had, we’ll always be able to make fresh memories together.” She blushed and took a sip of her mimosa. I meant every word. If she couldn’t remember what we had, I’d just spend the rest of my life making fresh memories with her.

Our food finally arrived, and we ate and had a casual conversation. My mother called asking about her, so I told her I would stop by. I could tell Chiara was nervous, but she didn’t have a reason. My mother loved her just like she gave birth to her. She knew what we had going on and she encouraged me to keep doing what I was doing because Chiara would appreciate it in the end. We finished with lunch and were pulling up to my parent’s house in no time. Chiara looked as if she wanted to haulass, but she had nothing to worry about. I walked her to the door and waited for my mother to come and open it. When she did, a smile graced her face as she let us in.

“Hey, Ma.” I kissed her cheek. When I backed up, she headed toward Chiara, who looked nervous as hell.

“Hey, baby.” She gave her a hug, which Chiara reciprocated. “Y’all come in and sit down,” she suggested, and we followed her from the foyer to the living room. “Chi, how are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“I’m doing okay. I have a few headaches, but it’s nothing that Tylenol can’t cure,” she revealed.

“Did the doctor say how long that would last?”

“No ma’am,” Chiara answered.

“Ma’am?” My mother looked between me and Chiara. I told my mother that Chiara didn’t remember a lot, and I assumed my mother was one of those things.

“Sweetie, you can call me Paula. Here, follow me. I got something for you. Hopefully, it’ll jog your memory.” Chiara looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders because I didn’t know what my mama had up her sleeve. We followed into the kitchen, and she uncovered a dish and the smell of pineapples and cinnamon hit my nose.

“That smells so good,” Chiara spoke.

“Good. It’s your favorite dessert that I make for you.” I watched as my mother plated a nice helping of pineapple cobbler and sat it in front of Chiara with a fork. Smiling, she watched as Chiara took a bite and closed her eyes and savored the flavor.

“Oh, my God. This is so good. I remember eating this before,” she smiled.

“Good. When Gabe first started bringing you around and told me that your favorite fruit was pineapple, I started finding different recipes. This particular one was one of your favorites.” I watched as my mother and Chiara kept talking and interacting.They were talking like old friends as my mother told her old stories of me as a child. She had told her these stories before, but it was nice that she was onboard with trying to help her get her memory back.

“Ma, where’s Pop?” I asked, taking a bite from Chiara’s plate.

“Get your own and he hasn’t gotten back from his trip yet.” My father had his own transport company, but his was more of private transportation. His company provided chauffeurs for various events.

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