Serendipity

Author: Janet (SkyGirl5)

Genre: S/V, AU

Summary: Usually, nothing interesting happens in the boring little town of Port City, that is until a woman crashes her car on a nearby road and stagers into the town without any knowledge as to who she is or where she came from.

Disclaimer: Sydney, Vaughn, etc are properties of JJ Abrams and ABC.

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Chapters 1-10 // Chapters 11 - 20

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Chapter 1

Michael Vaughn awoke to the harsh beeping of his alarm at 5:30 a.m., like he did every morning. He groaned and rolled out of bed before shuffling across the room and smacking the alarm off. Placing the alarm in a location where he had to remove himself from bed to turn it off was the only way he was able to wake himself up at such an ungodly hour. After the noise was gone, he stood there for a moment, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before shuffling to the bathroom and into a boiling hot shower to start yet another day.

He didn’t dislike his life, he truly didn’t. It certainly had its points of amusement; he was simply bored and ready for a change, some excitement. Actually ‘bored’ was rather an understatement considering he had lived his entire life in the small town of Port City, Massachusetts (population 953 souls, according to the last census). He was born there. He was born in the very room he slept in on a cold, wintry November night thirty-one (almost thirty-two) years earlier. In Port City, his parents owned a small diner named “Spoons”. Why the name? Michael had no idea, but it was theirs. He lived above the diner for his entire life, with the exception of the four years he spent at college. After college, he returned and worked in the diner every day. He knew that he would continue to work there every day unless it went out of business, which was unlikely since it was Port City’s most popular hang out.

Michael made it downstairs by quarter to six and began taking in the delivered boxes of supplies from the back porch while he waited for the grill to heat up. After all the boxes were inside, he unloaded the things he would need to prepare breakfast since his patrons would be arriving in only fifteen short minutes and he knew his unreliable assistant chef wouldn’t be there for over twenty. He threw some eggs on the grill along with some bacon before putting on a huge pot of coffee and making sure the tables were all ready for customers to come and eat.

At five fifty-nine he walked to the front door, flicked on the ‘open’ sign and unlatched the door. Upon opening it, as expected, like every morning, he came face to face with Annabelle South, a girl his own age with a head full of copper ringlets and a humongous smile. “Morning Michael,” she smiled as she squeezed past him and into the diner.

“Morning Annabelle,” he sighed. “The usual?” he asked referring to the order of scrambled eggs she had every morning.

“Please,” she smiled at him. He nodded and walked behind the counter and back to the kitchen as Annabelle watched him go, eyeing his tight shoulders as they moved beneath his slightly snug t-shirt. It was no secret to anyone in the town (least of all Michael) that Annabelle was completely in love with him. She went to the diner every day for breakfast, lunch and dinner, constantly dropping hints for Michael to ask her out, but he never picked up on them. Noticed them, yes, but he simply wasn’t interested. He had known Annabelle since elementary school and she was simply a friend who could never be anything more. Unfortunately, Annabelle never seemed to get that hint.

Like Annabelle, almost every other single female of any age (and even some of the married ones) loved Michael. Perhaps that was the reason for Spoons’ popularity, he wasn’t sure, but he was well aware of it even if he didn’t understand it. But he could never see what they saw when they looked at his sandy blonde hair that always had that ‘though it appears I just got out of bed, I actually styled my hair this way’ look and his brilliant green eyes that had a mysterious sparkle even when they were slightly tainted dull as his sad history seeped through. He had a strong jaw, chin with a perfectly cavernous cleft and hands that were soft even if he did work with them every day. His six foot frame was trim, but muscularly well defined, so defined, in fact, that his muscles could often be seen through the shirts he wore, causing all the girls in the room to swoon at the sight.

Though he had girls practically falling at his feet, Michael had never taken an interest in them. He had an interest in women in general, a very strong one in fact, but it was just the women in that town that didn’t strike him or intrigue him in the way he wished. Maybe it was because of the fact that they were the same women he had seen day in and day out for thirty some odd years since Port City didn’t exactly have the largest population influx. Or maybe it was because.... well, he wasn’t sure, but the fact that he never got a chance to leave Port City didn’t exactly bode well for his romantic prospects.

“Here you go, Annabelle,” Michael sighed as he placed a plate of eggs and a cup of black coffee with extra sugar the way she liked it in front of her.

“What’s the matter, doll?” Annabelle asked in her usually sweet tone. “You sound sad.”

“Nah, just tired,” he told her as he walked down the counter to take the order of a man who had just walked in.

He took orders frantically, made them, and berated his chef for being late for the zillionth time for the next hour and a half until the morning rush had slowed to a trickle of people now and then. It was then that he could finally breathe and return to moping about his life. He wasn’t always in such a down mood. Usually he was chipper, grinning a massive smile at all his patrons, flirting playfully by complimenting the older women whom he had known since childhood as they passed through and making sure the younger kids received extra syrup on their pancakes. Perhaps it was that morning that he just got up on the wrong side of the bed, so to speak, or maybe his attitude was a result of the dreary weather outside. No matter what it was though, he was down, and he had no way of knowing that that day was the day his life would change forever.



Chapter 2

Michael worked furiously through the lunch hours as he usually did. That day there happened to be a small fire in the kitchen due to the fact that his ever-incompetent chef had dropped an oven mitt on the grill. Though the fire had raised Michael’s stress level and made him wish his chef had never been born, it was put out quickly and business continued as usual. Eric, the chef, apologized profusely, but since it wasn’t even close to being his first infraction, Michael wasn’t overly impressed or sympathetic. In fact, for a while he contemplated firing him for what would have been the fifth time, but he knew there was no replacement and he could not do the work himself (as he found out the other four times Eric had been fired), so instead he just sulked and let it add to the depression of his mood.

At 3 p.m. that afternoon, when there was only one person eating in the diner, Michael was in the back organizing things for the dinner rush when he heard shouting and the bell above the door jiggling wildly. “Can we get some help out here?!”

Michael dropped the box he had been trying to wrestle open and rushed out to the front of the diner. He saw three men helping a brown haired girl into a booth. However they were clustered too tightly around her for him to tell what was going on or to see who she was. “What’s going on?” he asked as he approached.

“Michael, can you get us some ice and a cold glass of water,” Arthur, the city’s 65-year-old mayor asked him.

“Sure, one second,” Michael said before rushing behind the counter. He sloppily poured a glass of water and then grabbed a handful of ice, which he put in a bowl and carried over to them. It was only when he was right beside them that he realized the girl sitting at the booth was bleeding profusely from a large gash on her head. He did not recognize her as a local.

“Oh god, what happened?” Michael gasped as he set down the water and ice.

“We don’t know,” Matthew Pinker, another one of the town’s residents, said. “Art found her stumbling down along the main road and brought her in here. She hasn’t said anything,” he explained in a low voice.

“Well Jesus, you’re crowding her. Give her space to breathe,” Michael said as he pulled back the three men surrounding the obviously frightened and confused woman who was looking around the room frantically. Michael sat down at the booth across from her and pushed the glass of water so that it was right in front of her. Her eyes locked on him and his heart skipped a beat in his chest.

Her huge brown eyes, though filled with fear, had a softness to them. Her skin was a soft creamy color and her lips were full and pink despite the fact that one of them was split and bleeding.

Regaining his composure, Michael cleared his throat and said softly, “Sip some water, you’ll feel better.”

She looked down at the glass and lifted it slowly to her lips, taking a few short sips before putting it back down on the table. “Good, good,” Michael said. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Name...,” she repeated as she looked down and around the table, everywhere but at him. “I.... I don’t know...,” she croaked, her voice indicating her terror.

“Better get Doc Hampton,” the mayor muttered to the man standing beside him. The man nodded and disappeared out of the diner.

Michael focused all his attention on the woman sitting in front of him, who was starting to cry. He grabbed a handful of napkins and handed them to her. “You’re ok, you’re going to be okay,” he said in a soothing voice. “Do you know what day it is? What month? Year?”

“I... um... July...2006,” she said after stammering a few moments.

“Good,” Michael smiled. “This is July twelfth. Do you remember the last thing you did?”

She shook her head and clutched one of the napkins to her teary eyes. “N-no,” she stammered. “I... drove... maybe, I don’t know.”

“Okay, well you might have been in a car accident,” he said calmly. “The roads are slippery out there today.”

“I... I guess,” she sighed. She raised a trembling hand to her forehead and began to trace the gentle lines that had appeared there, but jumped when her fingertip brushed across the gash in her head. She slowly brought her hand down to eyelevel and upon noticing the crimson blood on her finger, looked horrified.

“It’s okay,” Michael told her. “You just have a little cut; we’ll clean that up for you.” He took one of the napkins and rubbed it across the bowl of ice, moistening it. Then, slowly, he reached forward and pressed it to the cut on her head. She winced and hissed in pain. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “Just hold it there; I’m sure the doctor will be here shortly.

She nodded slowly as a few more tears escaped down her cheek. Michael slipped out of the booth and pulled the mayor aside, speaking to him quietly, “Where did you say you found her?”

“Stumbling out along the main road about a mile and a half back. I thought she was drunk, so I pulled over, but then I saw the cut and...I brought her here,” he shrugged.

“Alright, maybe someone should go back there and look for a car that was in an accident. There might be a purse there with some sort of identification,” he said. The mayor nodded and slipped out of the diner just as the town’s physician, Doctor Richard Hampton, walked in. Michael directed him towards the woman and the doctor crouched down beside her.

“I’m Doc Hampton, may I look at your head?” he asked as he slipped a rubber glove on his right hand. She nodded slowly and lowered the napkin she had been holding to her forehead. The doctor instructed her to turn and slide forward a bit so that he could better examine the wound. She did as he asked.

“Well, it’s not too deep. You shouldn’t need stitches. We’ll just use some of this skin glue stuff and you should be fine,” the doctor smiled as he reached into the tiny black bag he’d brought with him.

“Um... she doesn’t remember her name,” Michael told him quietly knowing that a symptom like that didn’t exactly fit the definition of ‘fine’.

“She doesn’t?! You don’t?!” the doctor asked her. Sydney shook her head while biting her bottom lip. “In that case, we should probably walk down to my office... it’s only about a hundred feet, you think you can walk that far?” he asked her. She nodded and he got out of her way so she could stand.

She stood but had only walked two steps before stumbling. She nearly fell to the ground, but Michael reacted quickly and caught her around the waist. He drew her close to him as she wrapped her arms around his supportive frame. Michael nearly got lost in the feeling of her in his arms and how strangely perfect it felt, but he quickly realized his surroundings and set her up on her feet. “Perhaps I should help you,” he smiled softly at her. Quickly, he tossed his apron on a nearby stool before shouting to Eric that he needed to watch the diner for customers. Then, he secured an arm around the woman’s waist to help her to the nearby doctor’s office.

They walked slowly as the woman looked all around, trying to take in her surroundings. Finally, they reached the office and Michael passed her off to the doctor, who pulled her into one of his two examination rooms. Michael, unsure of what else to do, sat down to wait. He knew the diner wouldn’t be overly busy at this time. Plus he knew he just couldn’t abandon her there especially since she was scared, alone and knew no one… not that she knew him. In addition to his innate do-good nature making him stay, there was a connection he felt to her, one that he couldn’t understand nor could he explain, he simply felt it, stronger than he had ever felt anything.



Chapter 3

Fifteen minutes later, the door to the examination room swung open and Dr. Hampton walked out while guiding Sydney. Michael got up from his seat and walked over to them. “So....?”

“Well, she doesn’t seem to remember where she’s from, how old she is or what her name is...,” the doctor said.

“Great,” Michael sighed.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said timidly.

“Nooo, no it’s not your fault,” he assured her. Then he turned to the doctor. “I sent Art to look for her car; we think she was in an accident. Maybe he can find her driver’s license there. For now I’ll just take her back to the diner... she’ll be alright, right?”

“Well, memory loss suggests a concussion, which means she shouldn’t sleep for at least five or six hours just to be sure,” the doctor said. “Other than that she seems fine, just slightly lightheaded.”

“Okay, come on then,” Michael said, smiling at the woman. He linked his arm through hers and held it tightly as they walked. “I’m Michael by the way, Michael Vaughn. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”

“It’s alright Michael,” she said, her voice sounding slightly stronger than it had before. “I wish I could tell you my name.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her with a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out soon.”

“Alright.... where am I?” she asked. “I mean, what town is this?”

“Port City, Massachusetts,” he told her.

“Oh, are we near the ocean?” she asked.

“No,” he laughed. “There aren’t any oceans, lakes or any other source of water around here for miles.”

“Oh,” she laughed.

Just as they arrived back at the diner, the mayor was pounding up the path, breathing heavily. “Found the car...,” he panted. “This was in it,” he said as he held out a small black duffle bag. The woman took it slowly.

“Is that yours?” Michael asked her.

She looked up at him and shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Michael turned back to the mayor. “Where was the car?”

“Three miles out on Turtle Road. It’s a red Audi… slammed right into a tree at that wicked bend in the road. She must have slipped, but from the looks of the car,” he added as he lowered his voice, “she’s lucky she walked away.”

“Oh,” Michael swallowed hard. “The bag was all you found?”

The mayor nodded. “The driver’s door was hanging open and that bag was on the passenger seat. I looked underneath the seats for a purse, but I didn’t find one. I didn’t want to touch too much. I called the sheriff.... I have no idea how she got to where I found her though. The fastest way would have been through the woods but...,” he sighed as he looked the woman up and down. “Her clothes are clean so... who knows.”

“Alright well... let’s go sit down,” Michael sighed as he pulled open the diner door and let the woman inside. She sat down in the booth beside the door she was sitting in earlier and placed the black bag beside her, resting her elbow on the table and rubbing the bandage on her forehead gingerly.

“You want to...,” Michael said as he gestured towards the bag. She simply shrugged so he unzipped it. Inside, he found a pair of jeans, a few tank tops and t-shirts, two pairs of shorts and undergarments, but no form of identification. “Well... you’re a size four,” he laughed nervously. The woman only looked more helpless.

“Okay... okay, um, oh!” he gasped when he saw something sticking out of the back pocket of the black pants she was wearing. “What’s that?” he asked as he pointed to it.

She looked down at it and pulled it out slowly before handing it to him. Michael unfolded the crumpled piece of paper and found a key inside. On the paper there was a note written. “Ah ha! Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said.

“Why?” she asked.

“‘Sydney, enjoy the cabin, D’,” he read the note aloud to her. “Sydney, is that your name?”

“Syd-Sydney...,” she repeated. “I... I think so.... I’m sorry,” she sighed as she looked down to her hands, which she folded in her lap. “I’m so confused,” she whimpered.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” Michael said soothingly as he cautiously rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. She didn’t jump, so he rubbed her shoulder gently. “You’re going to be fine.”

“But I can’t remember anything!” she sniffed as she reached for a napkin from the holder beside her.

“You will,” he assured her. “Just give it some time. How about something to eat, hmm? Are you hungry?”

She rubbed her stomach and looked up at him. “Not really... but could I have some coffee?”

“Sure, what do you want in it?” he asked.

“Cream please.”

“Absolutely, coming right up,” he said before practically jumping over the counter to the always brewing coffee pot. He poured her a large cup and then added some cream before returning to the table and placing it in front of her. She gave him a small smile and thanked him. “Sure, you need anything else?”

“My memory?” she asked rhetorically, laughing softly.

Michael’s heart swelled at her laughter. “If I could, I’d give it to you in a second.” With that, he walked away and returned to his position behind the counter, his eyes never leaving her for a second. She sipped her coffee and looked through the bag beside her. Then, she pulled the menu from it’s pocket on the wall beside her and leafed through it.

“Michael. Michael!” The sheriff’s calls jolted him back to reality and Michael looked over at him. “Where’s the woman?” he asked.

“There,” Michael pointed before calling out, “Sydney!” Immediately her head snapped towards him. “See that must be your name,” he smiled at her. “This is the sheriff.”

“Oh... hello,” she said quietly.

The sheriff slipped in the booth beside her and removed his hat. “Hello ma’am. They tell me you don’t remember anything.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she said as she dropped her head to her chest.

“It’s not your fault. Did I hear something about your name being Sydney?” he asked.

“Well... this was in my back pocket,” she said as she handed him the note with the key attached.

The sheriff took it and stared at it a moment before responding. “Well, Turtle Road, where your car was found, does lead to a cluster of cabins. This key could very well belong to one of them.”

“Oh... okay,” she nodded.

“As for your car, well... to be honest with you, I doubt you’ll be driving it anywhere. We’re towing it to the local garage here but it looks like the front axle is broken,” he explained.

Just as he was saying this, Michael glanced out the window and saw Joe (the local body shop owner) towing a cherry red, utterly destroyed car down the street. Upon seeing it, Michael felt physically sick.

“Alright... I wouldn’t know where to go anyway,” she sighed.

“You’re welcome to stay here for a bit. We’re friendly people, I assure you,” he told her with a smile. “And you never know you might wake up tomorrow and remember everything.”

“I hope so,” she sighed.

“We don’t have one of those fancy Hilton hotels here but-”

“She can stay with me,” Michael, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, interjected. Both Sydney and the sheriff looked over to him. “You know... in my mom’s apartment.”

“Oh, I couldn’t put her out,” Sydney said quickly.

“No, no, she passed away two years ago; it’s empty now,” Michael explained to her.

“Oh... well, I wouldn’t want to trouble you,” she said.

“No trouble at all,” he assured her. “Besides, you’re already here.”

“Here?” she asked with confusion.

“I live upstairs,” he said with a gesture to the ceiling.

“Okay... well thank you very much,” she smiled at him.

“No problem,” he winked before walking away to help the customers who had just walked into the diner.

Sydney sighed and finished the last of her coffee. There was something so intriguing about Michael; she just couldn’t figure out what exactly it was.



Chapter 4

Around five pm, people began to fill up the tiny diner. Sydney, feeling as though she was entirely in the way, picked up her bag and slid out of the booth before walking over to the counter and flagging Michael down. “I’m in the way, aren’t I?”

“What? No, of course not,” he smiled at her. “Just have a seat here and I’ll get you some dinner,” he told her, gesturing towards the stool at the end of the counter. Sydney sat and placed her bag down beside her. “So, what’ll it be?”

“Um... I dunno... I’m not very hungry... maybe just a burger,” she shrugged.

“Burger, okay, you need a vegetable though,” he smiled.

“What are you? My mother?” she laughed. He shrugged. “I guess I’ll have some carrots then.”

“Burger and carrots comin’ up,” he smiled.

After he gave Sydney her meal, Michael didn’t have much time to talk to her since the diner had reached its full dinner rush and he was going non-stop. It had appeared that, as in all small towns, news traveled fast and everyone was talking about the ‘mysterious car crash girl’. A few people ended up noticing her sitting at the end of the counter with a bandage over her head and made the connection, which led to even more whispering and pointing. It was all Michael could do to keep them from going over and talking to her; that was the last thing Sydney needed, to be bombarded with fifty new people trying to get her life story (one she didn’t remember).

As usual Annabelle came in at six with her sister Claire and the two of them took seats at the counter… coincidentally right next to Sydney. “Michael, doll, how was your day?” Annabelle asked in her sweet tone.

“Uh alright, busy... Eric nearly set the kitchen on fire,” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh no! Is everything alright?”

“Yes... well Eric’s job is slightly more in the rocks...”

“Right,” Annabelle giggled. “So did you hear about that woman? The one who doesn’t know who she is but crashed her car out on Turtle Road?”

“Uh huh,” Michael said evasively as he passed out plates of food while sweating profusely from nerves and completely avoiding Sydney’s eyes.

“Did she come in here, because-”

“You know, I’m really busy we can talk later,” Michael said quickly, cutting her off.

“Oh sure,” she giggled. As she was waiting for her meal, Annabelle’s gaze drifted sideways to the quite woman sitting next to her. “Good lord, what happened to your face?!” she exclaimed in her typical nosey fashion. What did it matter than she didn’t even know this brown haired woman’s name? She had to know everything; it was her right as a person (or so Annabelle thought).

“Oh...,” Sydney stammered for a moment. “Stupid really.... walked into a door this morning,” she made up a quick lie.

“Oh, I’ve done that... I broke one of my toes actually. Remember that, Claire? When I broke my big toe?” Annabelle then turned her conversation to her sister and Sydney sighed with relief.

By seven-thirty the restaurant had pretty much cleared out though Sydney was convinced that the entire town must have been in there at some point. “Busy tonight,” she laughed to Michael when he came over to refill her coffee cup.

“Um, yeah, but only slightly more than usual,” he told her.

“Oh, wow... so this is like.... the hangout place then?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I guess.”

“Mmm,” she sighed as she sipped her coffee. “So when do you close?”

“Eight,” he told her. “Then I have to clean up in here and get ready for tomorrow morning since we open at six.”

“Early,” she commented.

He nodded. “Yeah, every year I say I’m going to push it to six-thirty or even seven, but I never do.”

“Why?” she asked. He just shrugged and walked off to get some dessert for a family of four sitting at one of the booths.

By a quarter to eight, the last patron had filtered out and Michael locked the door behind them. Then, he turned to Sydney and gave her a soft smile before grabbing a broom from the corner. “Can I help with anything?” she offered. She saw him opening his mouth while shaking his head but cut him off, “Please? It’s the least I can do since... I don’t have any money – but I intend on paying you back as soon as I figure out who I am.”

“No payment is necessary,” he assured her.

“But you’re letting me stay here...”

He laughed softly and looked down towards the floor he was sweeping. “My guess is wherever you’re from it’s definitely not a small town.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked curiously.

“Because hospitality like this is simply expected here... not that I don’t want you to stay – because I do,” he added quickly noting the slightly worried look on her face. “I just mean.... people wouldn’t be going out of their way to pay someone back, you know?”

She nodded slowly, half-understanding. “But I’d really like to help.”

“Alright well... you wanna refill the napkin holders?” he asked. She nodded. He leaned his broom up against one of the booths and went to the back storeroom, returning a moment later with a box of napkins.

“Thanks,” she said to him.

“No, thank you,” he told her.

“So... can I ask you something?” she asked casually as she filled the napkin dispensers around her.

“Sure.”

“What made you start this diner?”

He looked at her with a furrowed brow. “Why do you ask that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.... you just don’t strike me as the type of guy whose dream in life is to own a diner in a one horse town.”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “Well... Spoons was started by my parents way, way, way forever ago. It was my dad’s dream and my mom just went along with it.”

“And you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I guess I never had any dreams of my own. My dad died when I was ten, so I helped my mother run the store..... I never thought of doing anything else,” he told her honestly.

She nodded and slid off her stool to fill the napkin dispensers in the booths. “When I was younger.... I read Little Women and after reading that I knew I wanted to be just like Jo,” she said wistfully.

“You remember something from your childhood?” he asked, his voice sounding relieved.

She shrugged. “I guess... I don’t really know where that came from.”

“Oh,” he sighed.

They were silent the rest of the time Michael was wiping the counters and cleaning up the diner kitchen. “Well.... I’ll show you to your room now. It’s bedtime for me.”

“Bedtime?” she laughed. “But it’s not even nine yet.”

“Well, I get up at five-thirty, so I go to sleep early,” he explained as he picked up her bag and gestured for her to follow him. He walked through the back storeroom and up a hidden, narrow stairway. At the top, there were two doors, one on each side of a tiny vestibule. “This is where you’ll stay,” he told her as he opened the door to the left. “I’m sorry, I think it’s a bit dusty,” he cringed.

“No, no it’s fine,” she assured him as she took the bag from him and looked around the room. It wasn’t overly spacious, but not cramped either. There was a double bed in one corner with a rather old looking TV across from it. On the opposite side of the room there was a tiny sitting area with a faded and very dated couch. In addition to that, there was a tiny kitchen area. There were knick-knacks everywhere, most of them were tiny little angel figurines. Immediately, Sydney knew that Michael’s mother must have been a very loving person, simply by the atmosphere of the room.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay here, Michael,” she said as she turned to him.

“Of course. That’s why this place is here... just in case strange memory loss victims stop by,” he told her. She cracked a smile, the first true smile he had seen from her all day. A smile that made his heart stop beating and his stomach fill with butterflies at the sight of her cavernous dimples. “Goodnight Sydney,” he managed.

“Goodnight,” she sighed as she watched him slip out, shutting the door gently behind him.



Chapter 5

The next morning, for perhaps the first time in his life, Michael bounded out of bed upon hearing his alarm ring at 5:30. Even though he knew she wouldn’t be awake now (few people were), he was aching to talk to her and dying to find out whether Sydney had regained her precious memory. He showered, dressed and then went downstairs to organize the diner for the day.

At six, when he opened the diner doors, Annabelle was waiting. “Mornin’ doll. I cannot believe you didn’t tell me that that girl was staying here! I had to find out from my mother, of all people!” she gasped in the utmost offense.

“Well, I didn’t think that I should-”

“So, what’s she like?!” Annabelle quickly cut off Michael. “I mean obviously she doesn’t remember anything, or does she?! Does she know anything?! Can she speak English?!”

“ANNABELLE!” Michael cut her off by yelling. “The poor woman just went through a traumatic experience. I thought that she could maybe use some time to calm down and relax a little before every person in this town berated her with questions.”

“Oh….Michael, you’re such a sweetheart to think of her that way,” Annabelle said, her tone turned sweet and loving.

“Uh… yeah,” he said shortly before disappearing into the kitchen to make her breakfast.

“So, she’s here right?! Upstairs?!” Annabelle called to him.

“Yes, in my mother’s old apartment. She’s still sleeping… obviously,” he sighed.

“Well, maybe I should-”

“No,” Michael cut her off.

“But don’t you think-”

“No!”

“But-”

“No, Annabelle, leave her alone,” Michael said firmly.

“Fine,” she pouted with her arms crossed over her chest. “I just thought it would be nice for her to have a little girl talk, you know?”

“Girl talk?!” Michael laughed. “You just want dirt on her, Annabelle.”

“DO NOT!” she protested. Michael poked his head out of the kitchen and gave her a ‘yeah right’ look. “I don’t! Besides, what dirt could she give me if she doesn’t remember anything.”

“Good point,” Michael sighed as he brought out her eggs on a plate. “But you still don’t need to bother her. She might even wake up this morning and remember everything.”

“Which means she’ll leave,” Annabelle pointed out.

Michael’s good mood dropped slightly. He had never thought of that. Chances are if Sydney did remember who she was, she wouldn’t be sticking around ‘no-where’s-ville’. He knew all too well from thirty-one years of experience that no one willingly moved to Port City. “Yeah, I guess she will,” Michael sighed sadly.

“Well… I should get to work. If she wants a haircut or dye job, send her on by,” Annabelle winked with a giggle before leaving the diner. Michael just rolled his eyes.

The morning was busy and it seemed that almost everyone who walked thorough the door knew that Sydney had stayed there over night and asked Michael about it. He denied knowing anything about it, though most people knew he was lying. He wasn’t a very good liar and since everyone in that town had known him (and everyone else) his entire life, they could see right through him.

At eight a.m., Michael’s eyes were scanning around the diner, checking to see if anyone needed anything, when he saw a figure emerge from the back room. He looked over at her immediately and watched her tuck her hair behind her ears and look around as well. When their eyes met, he knew in an instant by the sad look on her face she knew no more than she had when she went to bed. He walked over to her and sighed, “Morning.”

“Hi,” she said quietly.

“Let me get you some coffee,” he told her before turning and walking over to the brewing pot. He returned with a cup that he set in front of an empty stool at the counter. Sydney sat down and sipped it gingerly.

“Can I get you something to eat?” he offered. She shook her head silently, not looking at him. “Come on Sydney, you’ll feel better if you eat something. How about… chocolate chip pancakes?” he tempted.

She looked up at him and smiled. “How did you know I liked them?”

“Do you like them?” he laughed softly.

She nodded. “At least… I think so. Then again, who wouldn’t like them?”

He shrugged. “People who don’t like chocolate?”

She gasped dramatically. “There are people like that?!”

He laughed. “I’ve heard of some, yes.”

“Horrible,” she muttered as she shook her head. “They make me sad.”

“Yes, me too… I’ll get your pancakes,” he told her with a smile. She thanked him and he walked away.

He returned ten minutes later bearing two huge chocolate chip pancakes with a strawberry smile. “Aww, it looks adorable and delicious,” Sydney smiled at him.

“Of course,” he said as he handed her a fork and syrup. “I’m sorry, Sydney.”

“For what?” she asked as she dug her fork into one of the fluffy pancakes.

“That you don’t remember.”

“Oh…,” she said sadly. “Yeah….”

“You never know though. I could happen any time – triggered by a word or sound or anything,” he said hopefully.

She raised an eyebrow at him as she chewed the mouthful of pancake she had just crammed in. “You are an expert on amnesia?”

“No,” he laughed softly at her muffled question. “I just… watch movies and stuff.”

“That makes you an expert,” she rolled her eyes. “Okay, these are officially the best pancakes I’ve ever tasted.”

“Really?” he asked with a slight laugh.

“Yes really!” she insisted. “I mean, I know I only remember…. less than twenty four hours right now, but I’m positive these are the best.”

“Okay then,” he laughed softly. “How’s your head?”

“Oh,” she sighed, touching her scabbed over cut carefully. “It doesn’t hurt; it just makes me look ugly.”

“Nothing could ever make you look ugly,” he told her. She smiled softly and looked down at her plate, stabbing a few more bits of pancake and then bringing them to her mouth. “So, did you sleep well?”

“Um, yeah… I kept having weird dreams though,” she told him. He looked curious. “Yeah... I’m not really sure… I think I was flying or falling… I dunno.”

“Weird,” he commented.

“Yeah…well, anyway I have to figure out what I’m going to do now,” she sighed.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well… I can’t just stay here.”

“Why not?”

She laughed softly. “Michael, I cannot impose on your generous hospitality any longer.”

“Why not? I don’t mind having you here. Besides, where are you going to go? I don’t want you just wandering off somewhere and… getting lost or something. Just give it another day or so and your memory might come back,” he said. Truthfully, he didn’t want her to leave, not yet anyway. He was going to do whatever it took to keep her there.

She looked wary. “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent positive,” he smiled.

“Alright… can I at least help you with something? I mean… I can’t just sit here all day at your counter eating chocolate chip pancakes,” she said with a slight laugh.

“Well, you could, but I doubt you’d be able to roll yourself up the stairs at the end of the day,” he smiled.

She rolled her eyes. “How about if I explore the town.”

“Well that’ll take all of five minutes,” he laughed softly. She looked curious. “Look out the window, what you see is what you get. That’s about all there is.”

“Serious?!” she asked in shock.

He nodded. “That’s all the stores we have… there are a few more streets with houses and such, but that’s basically it.”

“Wow… you weren’t kiddin’ about this small town stuff,” she sighed.

“Nope,” he laughed.

“Well, I’m going to walk around anyway,” she said as she slid off the stool. “Thanks for the pancakes,” she added before walking out the door of the diner.



Chapter 6

For fifteen minutes, Sydney walked up and down the main street of the small town of Port City. All the while she received strange stares and looks from people passing by or gaping out of store windows, which made her extremely uncomfortable. Finally, she could stand it no longer and headed back to the safety of the diner.

“Back so soon?” Michael chuckled at her.

“People were staring at me,” she told him quietly.

Michael nodded knowingly. “Everyone who’s new around here gets stared at. We never really get anyone new, so you’re somewhat of a novelty.”

“Great, so not only am I new, but I’m the new girl who wrapped her car around a tree and now can’t remember a damn thing,” she muttered bitterly. Michael, slightly taken aback by her tone, had no idea what to say so he just stood there silently.

After a moment, Sydney looked up and noticed his confused and almost afraid expression and she cringed. “God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly.

“No,” she sighed. “No, it’s not. You’re being so nice to me and… I’m just horrible.”

“You are definitely not horrible. You’re upset and that’s perfectly understandable given the circumstances,” he said. “Why don’t you go take a hot shower… or read a book… or watch some TV or a movie – just relax,” he told her.

“Well, I…” she hesitated.

“Relax,” he said slowly drawing out the word. “Go on upstairs, but go into my place. Underneath the TV there is a huge cabinet of movies… there’s got to be something you like in there.”

“Are you sure?” she asked cautiously.

“Positive,” he smiled.

“Thanks,” she gave him a small smile before walking back through the storeroom and up the narrow stairway. At the top, she hesitated momentarily before going into Michael’s apartment. She pushed open the door and found, in a word, hockey. Everything was covered in hockey memorabilia, pee-wee trophies and magazines everywhere. Slowly, she walked over to the TV, feeling very uncomfortable at the prospect of touching things that weren’t hers. In the cabinet she found the typical selection of ‘guy’ movies, but she managed to pick one she hadn’t seen, or rather, one she thought she hadn’t seen, but wouldn’t be too suicidal if watched.

After popping it in the player, she walked over to Michael’s worn, navy blue couch and immediately found it was probably one of the most comfortable couches she had ever sat on. It was perfectly broken in and smelled, not surprisingly, of Michael’s aftershave or shampoo- she wasn’t sure which. She then slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet up beneath her and settled back to watch the movie.

~*~

“Where is she now? You can’t hide her forever you know,” Annabelle said as she plopped herself down at one of the stools in the diner at lunchtime.

“Well, I’m doin’ a pretty good job of it so far,” he told her.

“Michael!” she whined.

“Jeez, she’s upstairs. Just because you happen to miss her every time you come in isn’t my fault,” he told her.

“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll just stay here until she shows up then.”

“Don’t you have hair to cut or dye?” he asked her with a raised eyebrow. Annabelle shrugged. “Whatever… what do you want to eat?”

“Chicken salad, please,” she smiled at him. “With a Coke.”

“Comin’ right up,” Michael said before turning to put the order though.

“So what are you going to do about her?” Annabelle asked.

Michael’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Well… what happens if she doesn’t remember? Is she going to live up in your mother’s place forever?” she asked in a tone that hinted she was a combination of offended and hurt (most likely because Sydney was up there and she wasn’t).

“I hadn’t really thought about it actually, but what am I going to do? Throw her out? She doesn’t have any money or even know what her last name is, let alone where she’s from. I think we’re just going to play it by ear for a while. If she doesn’t have her memory back by … Monday, we’ll figure out something more permanent,” he told her.

“Monday, hmm? That’s four days… a lot could happen in four days,” Annabelle pointed out.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked. She just shrugged.

Fifteen minutes later, when Annabelle was nearly done with her lunch, Sydney emerged from the back storeroom and Annabelle positively glowed. “Hello,” she smiled as she slid down the counter towards her (while Michael rolled his eyes at her). “So, you’re the girl from the accident?”

Sydney just shrugged and nodded. “Oh, I’m Annabelle,” she grinned as she extended her hand.

“Sydney,” Sydney shook her hand gently.

“Oh, you remember your name?” she asked excitedly.

“Annabelle,” Michael said warningly, but she ignored him.

“Not exactly,” Sydney sighed.

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m sure you’ll remember soon enough,” Annabelle smiled.

“Don’t you have to be getting back to work,” Michael asked her pointedly with a fake smile plastered across his face.

Annabelle sighed. “I suppose. If you need anything, let me know,” she smiled to Sydney. Then she winked at Michael and said, “Later doll.”

Michael groaned slightly and then turned to Sydney. “Lunch?”

“Uh yeah…. Just some soup, I think though. I’m still full from those pancakes,” she smiled.

He laughed. “Chicken noodle or tomato?”

“Chicken noodle, please,” she smiled. He nodded and walked off. “So…um, is Annabelle your girlfriend?” Sydney asked when he returned with her soup.

“WHAT?! NO! No, no, no, no, no definitely not,” he said very quickly and frantically.

Sydney couldn’t help but giggle. “So, that’s a ‘no’ then?”

“No,” he repeated firmly.

“Sorry… I just assumed…. I mean, she was flirting with you.”

“I know,” he grumbled.

“I take it you don’t return her sentiments?” she smiled up at him.

“Clearly not… I mean Annabelle’s a sweet girl… I’ve known her since we were four… she’s just a friend, you know?”

Sydney nodded and took a bite of her soup. “Will’s like that.”

“What?” Michael asked as his head snapped towards her.

“What?” she asked as if she truly had no idea what she had said.

“You said ‘Will’s like that’… do you remember somebody named Will?” he asked.

Sydney looked down for a moment, as though she was thinking hard, before looking up and saying quietly, “No… That’s weird…”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed.

Sydney shook her head slightly and turned back to her soup. She had no idea why she would have random spurts of memory that would disappear almost as quickly as they appeared; it was beginning to unnerve her. “So, Michael, who is your girlfriend?” Sydney asked.

“Don’t have one,” he shook his head.

She looked up at him in surprise. “You’re kidding?!”

“No,” he shrugged. “Why?”

“Well… I’m just surprised… I mean Annabelle’s not the only woman here drooling over you,” she pointed out with a smile. Then, she couldn’t help but laugh softly as she saw him blush. “Come on Michael, you’re a hot guy.”

“Hot? Did you just call me hot?” he grinned.

It was Sydney’s turn to blush, as she looked down at her soup, refusing to make eye contact with him. “So what’s your story? You gay?”

He laughed loudly. “Definitely not.”

“I know… I was kidding,” she smiled, still not looking at him. “Seriously though…”

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

She looked up at him with a sly grin. “You already dated every woman in this town, didn’t you?”

“No, definitely not,” he laughed. Then, he lowered his voice as he leaned on the counter beside her. “I think that’s the problem actually… no one in this town really… you know…”

Sydney nodded and leaned closer to him so that their faces were nearly touching. “So maybe you should go outside the town,” she said as though it was a very dangerous, possibly disastrous idea.

He smiled. “Easier said than done.”

She shrugged and ate another spoonful of soup. “Then I guess Ms. Right will just have to turn up on your doorstep.”

Michael just looked at her, wondering if maybe she was right…. and maybe that had already happened.



Chapter 7

“So seriously, what do you do for fun around here?” Sydney asked as she pushed her empty bowl of soup towards Michael’s side of the counter.

“Clearly this,” he said as he picked it up and put it in the ever-growing pile of dirty dishes.

“Seriously,” she laughed.

“Seriously? I don’t have much time for ‘fun’,” he told her honestly.

“Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “You want some of this strawberry pie? It’s really good.”

“I’m allergic to strawberries,” she answered automatically.

“Well, it’s good you remembered that,” he laughed softly. “Want some ice cream?”

“Michael you’re avoiding my question,” she told him with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, what was it again?”

“Why don’t you have time for fun?” she repeated.

“Oh… well, the diner…,” he let his voice drift off.

“It’s open every day from six to eight?!” she asked in shock. He nodded. “That’s insane!”

“Well,” he laughed. “When my parents were around, we’d open later on Sundays and it was closed all day on Christmas and Easter… and half days on other holidays… but…”

“You have nothing else to do and you’re a loser?” she suggested.

“Thanks…”

“I’m sorry, I was joking again,” she said sincerely.

“I know you were,” he smiled. “No… I just… I don’t have anything else to do, so why not be in here and have a little company now and then.”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “Well, I still think you should hire some help, that way you could take a day off. Everybody needs a day off now and then.”

“Do they?” he asked rather rhetorically.

“Yes, they do,” she said seriously. “Take me for example. I assume I must have a job… I mean, I’m… well, I don’t know how old I am,” she sighed as she rubbed her forehead.

“Late twenties,” Michael suggested. He had been curious about that himself and finally decided on that vague age range.

“Right… well, I have a job, whatever it is, but I took this time off to go to the cabin… at least, I think that was where I was going… The point is…,” she said firmly,” that you need a break; a vacation if you will.”

“Yes, but I have no one to run the diner,” he laughed softly.

“Hire somebody!” she insisted.

“I… I dunno,” he shrugged. “I just like things the way they are.”

“Control freak,” she muttered under her breath, yet loud enough for him to hear.

“Maybe I am. But I like control,” he told her.

“Fine, fine,” she sighed as she raised her hands in defeat. “It’s your diner, do what you wish. I’m merely suggesting.”

“Well, your suggestion will be taken into account,” he smiled.

“Mmmhmm, well… I noticed a huge shelf of books up in your mother’s room, mind if I look at some of them?” she asked him.

“Be my guest,” he told her.

“Alright,” she said as she pushed herself off the stool with both hands on the counter. “See you for dinner.”

In the middle of the afternoon, as there always was, there was a lull in restaurant patrons. As he was wiping up the counter, Michael’s gaze kept drifting towards the storeroom and the stairs. No matter how much he tried to fight it, Sydney was on his mind every second and it was beginning to drive him mad. Every time he looked at her, he just wanted to touch her, run his fingers through her brown hair, hold her, anything really. He laughed at how ridiculous that sounded in his mind, but he didn’t care. There was just something about her…

Finally, he decided to give in and he shouted to Eric to watch for customers and headed up the stairs. He found the door to his mother’s apartment slightly ajar, but decided to knock anyway. “Sydney?” he asked softly, knocking.

“Michael?!” she called back questioningly.

“Uh yeah…,” he sighed as he poked his head in the room and found her sprawled out across the bed, laying on her stomach with her chin resting on the edge of the bed, hands dangling down in front of her, in them she held a book. “Just wanted to see how you were doin’…”

“Oh, I’m good. I’m reading Alice in Wonderland. I haven’t read this in ages… or at least I think I’ve read it,” she laughed softly.

“Right,” he laughed back. Then, they fell into silence for a few minutes.

“So…,” Sydney sighed as she propped herself up on her elbows. “You left the diner and the world didn’t self destruct.”

“Ha ha. You’re funny,” he said dryly.

“I know I am,” she smiled. “I – ANNE!” she gasped.

“Excuse me?!” he asked.

“Anne, my middle name is Anne!” she exclaimed in an almost giddy way.

“Sydney Anne,” he said as he walked further into the room and nodded with a smile. “It fits. Can you remember anything else? Like maybe the last name that goes along with the first two?”

Her brow furrowed and she appeared to be concentrating intently for a few minutes before shrugging and sighing, “Nope.”

“Well, you’re getting there,” he said with a reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” she said sadly. “What day is it? Is it Thursday?” she asked. He nodded in response. “Oh ok, never mind.”

“No what?” he asked.

“No, it’s nothing… forget it,” she sighed. He stood there for another minute, making sure she really wasn’t going to continue her thought before returning to the diner on the floor below them.

That evening, like the previous, Sydney and Michael chatted as she helped him by filling the napkin dispensers as well as the salt and pepper shakers at each table. He told her amusing stories about his childhood as a trouble maker in their small town and soon her laughter filled the room. To Michael, her laughter was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. It made him smile; it made him never want to stop smiling for the rest of his life.

“You know, you said I should hire someone – maybe I should hire you,” Michael told her with a smile as he turned out all the diner lights and made his way to the stairs as she followed.

“Me? I dunno if I’m a diner kinda gal… although if you were to make me one of those waitresses on roller skates, I doubt I could turn you down,” she smiled, obviously teasing him.

“Oh, now there’s an interesting way to kick up Spoons. Modernize it a bit with waitresses on skates and a huge jukebox,” he smiled back at her as they ascended the steps.

She laughed. “I do believe that would be de-modernizing it.”

“Probably,” he sighed. “Well, goodnight Sydney.”

“Goodnight to you,” she flashed him a smile before disappearing into his mother’s old apartment and shutting the door softly behind her.



Chapter 8

“You know Michael, you really need to leave this diner more often,” Annabelle told him the next morning while she was eating her eggs.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” he asked suspiciously.

“People are starting to talk…”

“Oh, they’re starting to talk are they?! I’ll alert the Port City Whisper then..,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious,” she said firmly.

“Yes, I realize that, but when the hell don’t people in this town talk?” he groaned, knowing that the small town gossip was definitely the worst part of the small town.

Annabelle sighed and sipped some of her orange juice. “They’re talking about you and Sydney,” she said casually. Michael looked quickly at her with a very interested look on his face. “Oh, come now Michael, tell me you can’t figure that out? She’s an attractive young woman with absolutely no memory of who she is all alone up there,” Annabelle said in a pitiful voice. “And there you are, sleeping right next door and you hear her crying and-”

“That’s enough,” Michael cut her off harshly. “Jesus Annabelle, you should know me better than that after all these years.”

“Oh, I do. I know you’d never do that, but it doesn’t stop the talking.”

“Nothing would,” he muttered under his breath.

“All I’m saying is that since Sydney’s residence here seems permanent, at least for the time being, she should probably find someplace else to stay, unless…,” Annabelle let her voice drift off.

“Unless what?” he asked her.

Annabelle shrugged innocently and smiled. “Unless something really is going on between you two. Is there?” she asked. Michael looked away. “Come on doll, you can tell me,” she batted her eyelashes.

Michael, utterly sick of her implications and, frankly, sick of her in general, leaned in close to her and said harshly, “There is nothing more going on between Sydney and I than there is between you and I.”

Annabelle, clearly stung by Michael’s comment, sniffed and threw a five down on the counter before stalking out of the diner. Michael just muttered as he cleared her plates from the counter. He couldn’t have cared less if every person in that town was talking about Sydney and him; he’d never cared what they thought anyway.

Sydney was practically skipping when she entered the diner around eight a.m. “Boy, aren’t you just a bright ray of sunshine,” Michael laughed at her crazy grin and sparkling eyes.

“I’m from Boston,” she said proudly.

“Really?! You remember?!” he asked excitedly.

“Well… that’s all I remember,” she sighed as she flopped down at one of the stools.

“Well, it’s a start… but I’m guessing there is more than one Sydney in Boston,” he sighed.

“Yeah,” she scrunched up her nose. “How far is that from here?”

“’bout two and a half hours on a good traffic day,” he told her.

“Oh, you go there a lot?” she asked him, before remembering that he rarely left the diner.

“Nah, haven’t been there since college. Actually, that’s where I went to college,” he told her.

“Oh cool, I went to North Eastern,” she responded. Michael looked at her and they both laughed. “It’s so weird when I do that, isn’t it?!”

“Very,” he laughed.

“Ugh, it’s really getting to me,” she sighed as she combed her fingers through her hair. “I mean… it just comes and goes.”

“I know,” he sighed sympathetically. “So what’ll it be this morning? More pancakes?”

“No, you’re going to make me so fat,” she groaned as she placed a hand on her stomach.

“Oh yes, you cow – only coffee from now on,” he teased. She laughed. “Seriously, what can I get you?”

“Just some toast, please,” she smiled.

“Sure thing,” he responded. “You know… I was thinkin’, you wanna go for a walk around three?”

“You mean leave the diner?!” she gasped so dramatically that the five other people in the diner looked over at her.

“You’re funny. Really, you are… and yes, leave the diner.”

“Good lord, that’s two days in a row you’ll be leaving your faithful post. I think I’m a bad influence on you Michael Vaughn,” she smiled behind the coffee cup she held poised at her lips before taking a sip. Michael just laughed and shook his head. He had been thinking she was quite the opposite.

~*~

“So where are we going?” Sydney asked as she and Michael stepped out of the diner and into the brilliant sunlight.

“Patience, you’ll see,” he smiled at her.

“Mmmhm,” she sighed and followed him, deciding it was best to ignore the stares that were now following them as they walked down the sidewalk. “You know what I was thinking?”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I might actually like small town life compared to the big city,” she sighed.

“What makes you say that?” he laughed softly.

“Well… I can’t be sure, I suppose, but I like that everyone smiles here. In the city, no one smiles at you. They just look down at the sidewalk or are too busy with their cell phones to even notice you. Here they smile and say hello; that’s nice. Plus there are trees,” she laughed.

“Right, cities don’t actually have trees. Well, they do, but they’re plastic ones,” he smiled. She rolled her eyes at him. Then, after a few more minutes of walking she reached over and grabbed his hand, linking their fingers together. Michael looked down at their intertwined fingers, which were giving him chills, and smiled, but said nothing.

Once they reached the end of the shops along the main street, Michael took a sharp left and within 100 yards they came to the edge of a rather thick cluster of trees and Sydney stopped walking. She looked over at him, concerned and said, “Oh no, are you going to take me into the woods and kill me?”

“Yeah, but I’m warning you in advance,” he rolled his eyes at her. “Just come on,” he said, tugging her arm a bit.

“Where are we going?!” she asked, almost whining.

“I’ll tell you when we get there,” he smiled.

“Uhhgg, I don’t like hiking,” she complained, definitely whining that time. He looked back at her with a furrowed brow. “I’m a city girl, remember!”

“We’re almost there,” he sighed. After walking for a few minutes, they came to a small clearing where a small stream was trickling through. A rather large log was lying down by the river bank and Michael walked over, sat on it and then gestured for Sydney to sit as well. She did as she looked up at the green canopy above her.

“This was my favorite place to come when I was little,” he explained once she was seated. “I’d play in that stream for hours looking for tadpoles and digging up gross things, then I’d go home and my mother would scream at me for being filthy and wet,” he told her. She laughed softly.

“I loved it here. I always thought this place had some sort of magical quality or something..,” he said with a slight laugh, realizing how silly it sounded.

“It does,” she told him as she squeezed his hand lightly.

He looked down at her and saw her smiling softly back at him. It was then he knew that he’d never again in his life see anyone look as beautiful as she did right there in that moment. Slowly, he leaned in and shut his eyes. He knew he felt her lean in as well, but just before their lips met, a bird flew up from behind them, so closely that they both jumped and Sydney screamed, then laughed.

Michael just sighed, their moment was gone, but they were still there together, so he slipped his hand out of hers and wrapped it around her back. She leaned closer to him and rested her head softly on his shoulder, sighing as they both watched the water trickle at their feet.



Chapter 9

After sitting on the log in silence a few more minutes, Michael stood and said that they should get back to the diner, so Sydney took his hand and followed him back through the woods. The whole time they were walking, Sydney couldn’t help but think about the fact that they had almost kissed, and if that bird hadn’t flown up when it did, they would have kissed. On one hand, she really wanted to kiss him. She had wanted to kiss him for quite some time actually, ever since he had helped her into the doctor’s office nearly three days earlier. But on the other hand, the one that was trying to be rational, she didn’t actually know who she was. For all she knew, she could have a boyfriend or a husband for that matter, which meant she had to keep her feelings in check for the time being, no matter how difficult that was for her.

Back at the diner, the mayor was waiting for them. “Oh, look at you two kids,” he beamed when he saw them walking hand in hand. Michael immediately dropped Sydney’s hand. “How are you feeling, Sydney?” the mayor asked.

“Better, thank you,” she smiled at him.

“Happen to remember anything else?” he asked hopefully.

She looked down at her feet and said sadly, “No.”

“Oh well, all in good time, I suppose,” the mayor chuckled. “But we love having you here. At any rate, Joe sent me over to find you – he had a look at your car and wanted to speak to you about it. Mind if I borrow her for a bit?” he asked Michael.

“Not at all; go ahead,” Michael said before walking into the diner as Sydney followed the mayor across the street.

Once inside the diner, Michael found Annabelle at the counter still looking slightly offended. Michael just groaned and ignored her as he went behind the counter. “Don’t you have something to say to me?!” she asked.

“Uh, hello?” he offered, even though he knew that was not what she had meant.

“No, like an apology, jackass,” she snapped.

“I have nothing to apologize for,” he told her.

“Unbelievable,” Annabelle snapped as she slid off the stool. “You know, she’s changed you into a jerk.”

“Annabelle, did you ever stop to think that maybe you are causing me to be a jerk by being insane,” he retorted. Annabelle just glared at him before walking away. Michael muttered under his breath; he was sick of fighting with her.

A few minutes later, Sydney walked back into the dinner. “Well… it’s totaled,” she sighed as she flopped down on the stool Annabelle had vacated.

“Oh,” Michael cringed.

“Yeah…. It would cost so much to fix the axel, windshield, headlights… basically the whole front of the car that I should just get a new one. That one was kinda old anyway,” she sighed with her chin resting on her fists.

“Sorry Syd,” he told her.

“It’s alright,” she shrugged. “I mean, I’m just glad I’m okay, you know?”

“Definitely,” he smiled. “Want some coffee?”

“Nah, I’m gonna go upstairs and keep reading. See you at dinner,” she flashed a smile before disappearing upstairs.

~*~

“You know what I think?” Sydney sighed aloud as she was filling the napkin dispensers that evening.

“What’s that?” Michael asked her from across the diner.

“I think I was – or rather I am a writer of some sort,” she told him.

“Oh yeah? You remember?” he asked her.

“Well… no. Not exactly,” she sighed. “I just… it’s a feeling I have. Like, when I was reading Alice in Wonderland… and when I was reading the newspaper before. It sounds kinda silly…”

“No, it doesn’t sound silly at all,” he assured her as he walked closer to her.

“Good… because I want to write… I mean I feel like I want to write,” she told him.

“Write what? Newspaper articles? Books?”

“No, not books… and I wouldn’t want to be a reporter. I doubt I’m very good at being a hard hitting, just the facts Lois Lane type,” she said in a stern voice.

“No, you don’t strike me as that type either,” he laughed softly. “But I am impressed at your Superman reference.”

“Oh well, that show Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman used to be a guilty pleasure of mine,” she winked. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t knock it; it was a good show.”

“I’m sure it was,” he said sarcastically.

“Anyway…”

“So a writer, hmm? I guess I can see that. Maybe you have little black rimmed glasses somewhere,” he smiled.

“Except I don’t have contacts and I can see perfectly fine,” she laughed.

“Oh no, not for seeing purposes; just to look that cool,” he winked.

“Oh,” she laughed. “Well… I don’t know about the glasses but…”

“Sounds good to me. I’m sure you’re a fantastic writer,” he told her with a smile.

“Thanks,” she smiled back. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m a horrible writer. I got C’s in English.”

She laughed. “No, no I mean… if you didn’t have the diner, what would you do?” she asked.

“Well, obviously I’d be an underwear model,” he said boldly. Sydney snorted with laughter. “HEY!” he gasped sounding offended. “What was that about?!”

“It was just your tone. I’m sure you’d get hired as an underwear model. I mean, not that I’ve seen… but the face alone would get you hired,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” he laughed. “Actually… I’ve never given it much thought.”

Sydney smiled knowingly. “You want to be a professional hockey player, don’t you?”

Michael laughed loudly. “Oh… That’s right, you were in my apartment.”

“Mmhm,” she nodded.

“Well, I did when I was eight,” he told her. “Then I realized that the chances of me being in the NHL were very slim.”

“Right,” she laughed softly. “Were you on a peewee team?” she asked, already suspecting the answer was yes, having seen his apartment.

“Yeah, for like five years,” he told her.

“You have pictures?” she asked hopefully.

“A few,” he laughed. “But you don’t wanna see ‘em.”

“I absolutely do,” she told him firmly. “Please?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “But you’ll laugh at me.”

“I won’t,” she promised.

After they had finished cleaning up the diner, Sydney followed Michael into his apartment and sat on his couch as he instructed. He disappeared into an adjoining room and she heard thing shuffling around, sliding across the floor and crashing down as he cursed. A few minutes later he emerged caring a rather dusty shoebox.

“Dig that up, did ya?” she asked with a smile.

“Yes,” he laughed as he sat beside her and opened the box.

Immediately, Sydney cooed and giggled. “Oh my god, you were soooooo adorable,” she sighed as she lifted out a picture of him in his full hockey gear when he appeared to be no older than eight. “This is adorable.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he laughed.

Sydney giggled as she looked through the box for a few minutes, then she told Michael she’d leave so he could get to sleep. As she was getting up to leave, she brushed her lips against his forehead, without even realizing what she had done until it was too late to undo it. Nervously, she said goodnight and walked quickly from the room, partly regretting what she had done and partly wishing that instead of his forehead, her lips had brushed his.



Chapter 10

The next morning, Michael awoke with his forehead still tingling from where Sydney had kissed him the night before. He had tossed and turned for half the night thinking about that kiss, how tender her lips were and how wonderful they felt against his skin, not to mention how much he wanted to kiss her. He shook that image from his mind as he forced himself into a colder than usual shower. He couldn’t let himself kiss her. That would be taking advantage of her vulnerable situation, no matter how strong his feelings for her were.

“You know what I really wanna do?” Sydney commented later that morning as she was eating her cereal at the diner counter.

“No, what?” Michael asked.

“Check out that cabin I was going to go to,” she told him. “Do you know of any cabins around here?”

He laughed. “You think you’re going to find it?!”

“Well yeah, look at this,” she said as she pulled the key from her back pocket. “Three seventy-five is etched into the key. That could be an address, right? And I figure if I was going to the cabin on Wednesday I was probably going to make a long weekend of it, so nobody else would be there right now.”

Micheal laughed. “You’re serious about this.”

“I am,” she said firmly. “Come on, do you know where the cabins are?” she asked.

“Yes…,” he said slowly. She grinned. “Um no, I cannot take you.”

“Whyyyyyy,” she groaned.

“Because I can’t,” he told her.

“But the diner will survive! You left yesterday! Come on, it will only take a few hours or so. Please?!” she smiled innocently at him. He looked hesitant. “Come on Michael, be a rebel; have some fun.”

“What makes you think that would be fun for me?” he asked. Her face fell and she shrank away from him slightly. He smiled, reached out and touched her hand holding the key softly. “It would be.”

She smacked him. “That was mean!”

“Sorry,” he laughed softly. “But I really shouldn’t leave.”

“I wasn’t asking what you should do,” she smiled.

Michael didn’t know what to do. On one hand, he didn’t want to shut down the diner over the lunch hour, since that would practically disrupt the flow of the town (shocking, but true). He also didn’t think it wise for the two of them to be alone in a cabin -- not that he didn’t trust her; he didn’t trust himself. But on the other hand, he wanted to make her happy and staring into her beautiful brown eyes he was ready and willing to do almost anything she asked him for.

“Alright,” he grumbled. She cheered and clapped her hands together giddily. “We’ll leave at ten.”

“Okay!” she smiled.

Michael just shook his head and muttered. “The things I do…”

“What was that?” she asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” he smiled.

“Here,” Sydney smiled proudly as she handed him a piece of paper at ten sharp. Michael’s brow furrowed as he took it and looked down at it. Closed until 4. See you at dinner, it read. “It’s for the front door.”

“Yes, I can see that,” he laughed. She just smiled. “Fine,” he grumbled as he grabbed a piece of tape and tacked the sign on the front door before locking it. “Happy?”

“Very,” she smiled.

“Got the key?”

“Yep,” she said as she held it up.

“Alright then, let’s go,” he sighed as he walked towards the back of the store and held open the back door for her.

“You have a car, right?” she asked cautiously.

“No, we’re gonna walk there,” he rolled his eyes. “Of course I have a car.”

“Is it a pickup truck?” she asked.

He turned around and looked at her. “No, it is not,” he said firmly. “And I am offended by that small town generalization,” he said as he unlocked the doors to his SUV parked out back.

“So-rry,” she smiled.

“I got rid of the pickup two years ago,” he said rather quietly as he climbed in the drivers seat.

Sydney snorted with laughter. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head as the engine turned over. “It was my fathers, but it was ancient and it broke so…,” he shrugged.

“I see,” she smiled. “So how far away is this place?”

“No more than fifteen or twenty minutes probably,” he told her. She just nodded and enjoyed the scenery on the drive there.

They pulled out onto a tree-lined road and when turning around a bend Sydney saw large black tire tracks and a tree that looked slightly damaged. “Oh god,” she sighed under her breath. “Do you think that’s where…”

“Yeah, probably,” he said quietly, not really wanting to dwell on what could have happened.

After another fifteen minutes of driving, they came to a dirt road turn off that led to the cabins. “What’s the number again?” Michael asked as he tried to read the house signs.

“Three seventy-five,” she told him.

“Alright… Three sixty… Three sixty-five… ok here we go, three seventy-five,” he said as he parked in front of one of the cabins. “Looks pretty deserted to me.”

“Exactly,” Sydney smiled as she slammed her door shut. Then she walked up to the front door and jammed her key in the lock. “It works,” she called over her shoulder before pushing the door open.

“Jesus woman, would you just-” he groaned as he followed her into the house. “You shouldn’t just barge in here.”

“But you said yourself it looks deserted,” she told him as she walked into the cabin, looking around at the wood floors and walls and the rustic furniture. “It’s cute… very relaxing.”

“I guess,” he sighed. “You think you’ve been here before? I mean, do you remember any of it?” he asked her.

“No,” she sighed. Then, she began to explore the house as he followed her silently. When they reached the bedroom area, he watched as she collapsed down on the bed with a trembling lip.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly as he crouched down beside her and tilted her chin towards him.

“It’s just…,” she sniffed. “What if I never remember, Michael? What if I never remember who I am? I’ll have no life… no family… nothing.”

“That is not true,” he said firmly. “First, you’re going to remember who you are and even if you didn’t, I know people will come looking for you and I will do everything in my power to help you find your family. Besides, you’re not alone.”

She looked over at him as a single tear fell down her cheek. “I have… you…,” she said as more of a question.

“Yeah, you got me,” he smiled at her. She sighed and slid herself closer to him, rubbing her forehead against his. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug, rubbing her back softly and never wanting to let go.

“I think… maybe I’ll take a nap here for a little while,” she said quietly as she pulled from his embrace and slid further up the bed. “Will you… will you lay down with me?” she asked with a small sniff.

Against all his better judgment Michael said, “Sure,” and crawled on the bed beside her. She pressed her body up against his, snuggling close to him as they arranged themselves on the covers. Michael deeply breathed in the scent of the shampoo as he wrapped his arm around his waist. In that moment, he felt something that could only be described as completeness and he knew that he was in love with her, even though he knew so little about her.

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Chapters 11 - 20