CHAPTER TWELVE
Weeks passed. One morning in August, Jessie sat side-by-side with Sunny on the piano bench and played a simple duet. Mrs. Livingston had given the music to Jessie at her last lesson. “I cannot believe we ended together,” Jessie said. “It sounded pretty good.”
Sunny laughed. “You’re going to be good at this.”
When they stopped playing, Jessie could hear violin music from upstairs. She sat very still and listened. “What’s Bryce playing? It’s so beautiful.”
“I think it’s Brahms—a serenade. Sunny turned on the bench, leaned forward and pulled her wheelchair toward the piano. “He’s practicing for a performance at the library next month.”
* * *
“There’s a band concert on Sunday,” Bryce said. They were walking on the museum grounds with Sunny. She’d graduated to a walking cast and crutches. “Do you want to go?”
“Are you asking me to go
with
you?” said Jessie. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. “Sure,” she squeaked.
Oh, honestly—get a grip, Jessica.
“Me too?” asked Sunny.
“No way. Dad’s taking you to a movie,” said Bryce. “I’ll pick you up at four-thirty, Jessie.” Bryce helped Sunny to a bench in the shade.
This almost sounds like a date. I wonder if Mom will object.
Her mind went blank. She felt as if she were floating. She was afraid to speak in case her voice cracked again. “Got to go. I promised Mom I’d watch Phillip.” She gave a little wave, started across the lawn, tripped on a tree root and fell to her knees.
Bryce ran to her and helped her up. “Are you all right?”
She looked up expecting to see him laughing, but he only seemed concerned. “Thanks. I’m fine. Have to run.” And that’s what she did until she was safe inside her front door.
“Jessie, why are you flattened against the wall? I almost didn’t see you,” said her mother. “You look flushed. Are you getting sick?” She felt Jessie’s forehead.
“Oh, Mom. Bryce asked me to go to the band concert with him Sunday.” She grabbed her mother’s hand and kissed her arm all the way up to her elbow. “Please, Mom. You’ll let me go, won’t you?”
Her mother laughed. “Ah, the amazing Bryce Peterson. It’s all right with me.” She smoothed back Jessie’s hair and refastened the ribbon on her braid. “You should be well chaperoned at a band concert with a hundred people around you. Especially in Fairfield where everyone knows who you are.”
Jessie threw her arms around her mother. “Thank you, thank you! You’re the best mom in the world!”
“Well, sometimes anyway,” laughed her mother. “Watch Phillip in his pool, will you? He’s all ready to go.”
“Come on Phillip, you little angel,” said Jessie. “Let’s go swim in your pool.”
Phillip ran from the living room. “You sick, Jessie?”
“Not sick, Phillip,” said her mom. “Just happy.”
“Happy, happy, happy,” sang Phillip as they headed outside.
* * *
Every time she went to her lesson, Jessie looked for Rita. Once the woman was sitting on the old porch, but didn’t speak.
On this Saturday, the latch on the barn door was undone and, for the first time, Jessie saw the bumper of a car inside. Her mother had already driven off so she edged closer to the opening.
“Jessie!!” It was Mrs. Livingston standing on the porch. “Are you ready to come in?”
Startled, Jessie dropped her music books onto the gravel. By the time she’d gathered them up, Mrs. Livingston was standing beside her. “Were you looking for something, Jessie?” The teacher took some of the books from Jessie’s hands and began walking back to the house.
“No, just wandering around.” Jessie followed her inside.
* * *
The next day, Sunday, was band concert day. Jessie searched through her closet and tried to decide what to wear. Maybe this was the time to actually wear a dress. She pulled out a yellow cotton sundress and her brown sandals. The phone rang. She ran to her parents’ bedroom and picked up the receiver. As soon as she heard crying babies, she knew it was Tina. “I think I might faint before he gets here.”
“This is so exciting,” said Tina. “I’m amazed your folks are letting you go.”
“What can happen with half the town staring at us?” said Jessie. She began to undo her braid with her free hand.
“Really, Jessie, I’m so jealous,” said Tina. “What are you going to wear? A dress, I’ll bet.”
“For once. It’s been awhile.” She began to brush out her hair. “Why’d you call?”
“I was wondering if you’re going to let Bryce know about your amnesia research,” said Tina.
“I’ll see how it goes,” Jessie said. “I guess it’s at least time I told him about seeing the car in the country, that day at the old mill.”
“Call me with the details,” said Tina. “I can hardly wait! Bye.”
Back in her bedroom and almost ready, Jessie parted her hair in the middle, pulled some back on each side and fastened it with a silver clip. Her hair fell to her shoulders in waves. She looked at herself in the mirror and didn’t mind what she saw. The doorbell rang. Her heart started thumping and she ran downstairs to greet Bryce.
* * *
She walked beside him, trying not to jerk or worse, trip. He smiled at her. “You look pretty, Jessie. I like your hair that way.”
She began to relax and smiled back. “Thank you.”
That’s what Mom always told her, “Just say thank you, Jessie.
Don’t go on and on. And once you’re dressed and have looked in the mirror, don’t fuss with your hair or your clothes.”
He looked so handsome. Blue short-sleeved shirt that made his tan glow. Hair still damp from the shower and curling a little. And those beautiful hazel eyes—such kind eyes. The kindest she’d ever seen. She felt weak.
“What do you think about Sunny?” he asked. “Do you figure she’ll ever get her memory back?”
Jessie gave it some thought. She didn’t know if she dared tell him her suspicions about Rita. “You know, I’ve been thinking.” She slowed down. “Dr. Adams says we might jog her memory if we repeat something that took place just before she was hit.”
“You mean, go to the tearoom and then walk outside?” he asked. “She’ll get her cast off on Tuesday. Then she could walk up those steps.”
“He says it’s more sounds or smells that you need to repeat,” Jessie said. “I’ve been concentrating on what happened that day before the accident.” She was quiet for a few minutes—thinking. “But there’s something else.”
He stopped and faced her. “What do you know?”
“You cannot tell anyone. Not anyone, Bryce. Not your dad or Miss Tyler.”
He took her hand and they started walking again. “I promise.”
Now she couldn’t think. She could only feel his hand holding hers. She took a deep breath. “You know Mrs. Livingston has a daughter, Rita?”
He nodded. “My dad said he dated her when they were in high school. I guess she’s an alcoholic now.” They stopped at the curb and waited for a passing car. “What about her?”
“It’s just a feeling. They have a car parked in their barn. Rita’s not supposed to drive because of her drinking. But one day when I was at my lesson, I know she drove that barn car because we heard it leave and Mrs. Livingston got very upset.” She looked at Bryce. “I’m wondering if she’s the one who hit Sunny. Has Sunny ever met Rita?”
“Maybe.” He sounded excited. “Right after Sunny came, Dad and I went to Mrs. Livingston’s to arrange for my lessons. Sunny was with us. But I don’t remember seeing anyone except the teacher that day.”
“Was Sunny with you the whole time?” Jessie asked.
“I think so. No, wait. She was getting bored and asked dad if she could go outside.” Bryce was quiet. “Do you think she met Rita that day?”
“It all fits,” said Jessie. “But how do we prove it?” She frowned. “Daddy says the police can’t go looking into people’s barns without a good reason.”
By now, they had reached Courthouse Square. The green and white bandstand sat on the lawn, with a fresh coat of paint after the winter storms. People were talking and moving about, finding places to put their blankets or lawn chairs and preparing to listen to the music. Musicians on the platform tuned their instruments and spoke quietly among themselves.
When they stepped onto the lawn, Jessie felt as if everyone was looking at them and she dropped Bryce’s hand. She glanced at him. He had a little smile and held himself straight and tall. She tried to do the same but instead gave a nervous giggle.
I’ll never be smooth like Bryce.
The concert began with the “Star Spangled Banner” and the crowd stood up. Seated back on the grass, people forgot about Bryce and Jessie and enjoyed the music while they ate lunch from picnic baskets and read books. Small children chased each other around trees and were shushed by their parents when they became too rowdy.
Jessie felt so happy. She clapped with enthusiasm after each piece and drank a cup of punch that Bryce brought her from the drink stand.
It’s a perfect day!
When the performance ended, they stood and worked their way to the street. Then she
saw
it. “Bryce!” she said. “Look at the red flower on that antenna! That’s the car!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jessie and Bryce pushed through the crowd, but by the time they reached the curb, the car was gone.
“Drats!” exclaimed Jessie. “What should we do?”
Bryce’s face was red with fury. “I can’t believe that car is still driving around loose. Let’s go to ROSIE’S CAFÉ and have a coke. We need to do something, make a plan.”
They sat in a booth and sipped their drinks. “This is what I remember about that afternoon at the museum,” said Jessie. “Let’s write it down.”
Bryce still looked grim but seemed calmer. He pulled a paper napkin from the silver holder and got up to ask the waitress for a pencil. “Okay. Fire away,” he said.
“The sounds were people talking and laughing, your dad tapping a glass, dishes and silverware, chairs scraping on the wood floor…” said Jessie. Bryce was writing it down.
“What about people walking, like the waitresses? And once someone dropped a tray and it was really loud,” said Bryce. He added that to the list.
“I forgot about that,” said Jessie. “How about smells? What do you remember?”
Bryce smiled. “The cookies. I remember because they smelled like they just came out of the oven. And the smell of coffee. Some people don’t like tea. And how about the lilacs? They were all over the place, in vases and outside the open windows too.”
She nodded.
Boy is he cool to notice the lilacs. What other boy in town would pay attention like that?
“That’s nice, Bryce. About the lilacs.”
His eyes became sad. “My mom loved lilacs.”
“Oh,” said Jessie. “No wonder you noticed.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“What did
you
smell?” he asked.
“I remember the scones,” she said. “Or maybe I just remember how they
tasted
with butter and jam,” she laughed. “But what I really remember smelling was outside. They’d just mowed the grass and I love that smell. Also, all the flowers in the beds on the lawn and the trees too. Everything smelled like spring.”
He probably thinks I’m silly. Like some dopey girl in a book.
But he was smiling at her and it was the sweetest smile.
Oh, I like him so much!
He finished writing the list on the napkin, folded it and stood to put it into his pocket. “We’d better start home. Your folks will be out looking for us.”
The sun was setting as they walked. Pink and orange streaked across the endless horizon. Jessie didn’t want the day to end. When they got to her house, she said, “Thank you for inviting me today. I had so much fun, even though we didn’t make much progress on the mystery.”
Bryce took hold of her wrist and pulled her toward him. “Me too. It was great.” He kissed her cheek.
“Mama, Mama!” shouted Phillip from the upstairs window. “Kiss, kiss, kiss, Jessie?”
“Phillip, get in here and take your bath,” ordered his mother from the next room.
Jessie jumped back. “Oh, no! He’ll be going on about this for days.” She ran up the porch steps, then turned and waved. “Thanks again.” She floated through the door.
Jessie leaned against the wall and relived the moment. After a while, she went to the kitchen where her dad was starting to make sandwiches for supper. “Daddy, we saw the hit-and-run car drive by the band concert, but we couldn’t get through the crowd fast enough to see a license number.” Her voice shook a little.
I hope Daddy didn’t hear Phillip shout from the window.
“The police will find it, Jessie. These things take time.” He spread butter on a slice of rye bread. “Will you get the ham and cheese from the fridge?”
Her hand trembled as she took the food from the refrigerator and set it on the counter.
“How was the concert?” her dad asked. “Did you have fun with Bryce?”
She thought of the kiss. Her head felt light, as if it might drift into the air if she didn’t hold it down. “Oh, we had so much fun, Daddy. It was great!”
He turned and looked at her closely, smiled and resumed his sandwich making. “That’s good. Bryce seems like a nice boy.”