Page 36 of The Uncomplicated Café
“Why don’t we begin with you, Sam,” Carla said gently.
“Okay.” Sam’s knee twitched with nerves. He cleared his throat again. “I, uh, don’t really know where to start. I don’t remember much of anything before I woke up in the hospital in Redton a few months ago.”
“Were you sick?” Max asked in concern.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, looking more relaxed as he focused solely on his son. “You see, Max, my boat got caught in a storm.”
Max nodded as if the information wasn’t new to him.
“The storm sent my boat miles off course, and I don’t remember exactly what happened, but I got lucky. A whale-watching tour found me, and I was taken to a hospital where I got the help I needed.”
While Abby appreciated Sam’s tactful explanation, she could read between the lines. Shipwreck victims often suffered fromhorrible ailments—dehydration, malnutrition, hypothermia, hypoxia, among many other possibilities. No wonder Sam looked so haggard. Her chest squeezed at the harrowing experience he’d endured.
“I know why you got lucky!” Max said proudly. “Abby and I prayed for you every night.”
Sam’s gaze flickered to Abby, then back to Max. He blinked rapidly as if to ward off tears. “Thank you,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion.
“Plus,” Max added. “You had the sea glass I gave you.”
“The what?” Sam squinted as if he hadn’t heard Max correctly.
“The sea glass,” Max repeated. “The aqua piece I found. You always took it with you.”
Sam shoved a hand into his pocket and withdrew a tiny bluish-green stone. “You mean this one?”
“Yeah. That’s it.”
“Y-you gave this to me?” Sam’s voice cracked.
“Yeah. For good luck.” Max cocked his head, perplexed by his dad’s confusion. “You don’t remember?”
“I—I remembered that it was important. That it meant something,” Sam murmured, his glassy gaze fixed on the stone in his hand. Clenching his fingers around it, he closed his eyes, struggling to compose himself. When he finally opened his eyes again, they shimmered with tears. “They never found my wallet, or any form of identification. Only this.” He uncurled his fingers, revealing the sliver of sea glass. “It was stitched into the watch pocket of my jeans. I had no idea—” His voice warbled, as if overcome by the revelation that he’d possessed a link to his son all this time. He swallowed, meeting Max’s gaze. “When I woke up in the hospital, I’d lost my memory. I didn’t remember who I was, where I lived, or anyone in my life.”
“Oh.” Max’s face fell. “You didn’t remember me?”
Sam shook his head, unable to speak, and Abby’s heart broke for them both. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to lose so much of yourself, to not even know what you’d lost. It had to be pure agony.
“I’m so sorry, Max,” Sam croaked.
“But you remember me now?” Max asked hopefully.
“Yeah.” Sam roughly rubbed the corner of his eye with his knuckle. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”
“Good.” Max nodded, satisfied with his answer. “Then you’re all better now.”
Sam smiled sadly. “Not quite. There’s still a lot I don’t remember. The doctors said my memories could come back all at once or in pieces, little by little. There’s no way to know for sure. But there is one thing I know for certain.” He held his son’s gaze. “You’re the most important person in the world to me. And as long as we’re together, everything will be okay.”
Max beamed up at his dad, and Abby’s heart mended and broke all at once.
They’d finally witnessed the moment she and Max had prayed for—their miracle. And yet, while God had answered one prayer, He’d denied another. One family reunited meant the other one ripped apart.
How was it possible to be happy and heartbroken all in one breath?
“I don’t understand.” Logan’s voice tore through her conflicted thoughts.
To anyone but her, his tone sounded calm and steady. But she caught the subtle undertone of tamped pain and felt the cold, clammy sweat on his palm pressed against her own.
They’d each lost something that day. Something they’d never get back.
