As David and Ian get lost talking about rehab and what will come after that, Jade and I excuse ourselves to get a drink. “How’s he holding up?” Jade asks with caution in her voice.

“He’s good actually. He remembered something the other day.”

Jade nearly chokes on her wine. “That’s amazing. Tell me about it.”

So I tell her about his memory of the beach and how I cut my foot open. When I tell her about cooking breakfast with him that morning, she gets that dreamy look in her eyes. “What’s that for?” I point to her lost and faraway dark brown eyes.

“You two are adorable, that’s all.”

“I don’t know about that. I mean we’re living together, but it’s not like we’re together. I can’t force him into being with me if he can’t remember me. That’s not fair.”

“Who said anything about forcing anyone? Memories aren’t only in the head. They’re in the heart too. I would risk everything on the notion that you are still very much a large part of his heart.”

Just as the tears sting my eyes, the side gate pops open, revealing my parents and sister standing on the other side.

John and Penny beat me to the punch and nearly race to them as they walk through the gate. “Meredith,” Penny greets, wrapping her arms around my mom so tightly I wonder if she can even breathe.

My dad and John pump hands and do that weird back slap thing. They’d seen each other once or twice in the hospital, but that was obviously not the most ideal of situations.

“Thank you so much for having us here,” my mom says, looping her arm through my dad’s.

“This can’t be Dani!” Penny hugs my sister with tears in her eyes.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She’s polite as ever and it makes me so proud of her.

“Hey, girl” I pull her into a tight hug myself. “How did you get away for the weekend?”

She wraps her arm around my waist, explaining, “Classes are canceled on Monday for Columbus Day so when Mom and Dad said they were coming here, I wanted to join. Plus I haven’t seen you in forever.”

With the group of us together, Penny looks like she’s about to burst. “It’s so surreal having you guys here. It’s been a lifetime.”

“Definitely,” my mom agrees, looking over the fence at what used to be our home. “They added an extension.” Pointing at the top of our old home, I can’t imagine what she’s thinking. But when she pulls Dani closer to her side, I have an idea.

“Listen, about that,” I cut in, keeping my voice low. “David doesn’t remember any of that. At least he didn’t seem to. Maybe we can try to stay away from some of the heavier stuff today.” My suggestion is met with unanimous agreement. “Let’s just have fun, enjoy a meal, and try not to focus on what he can’t remember. That only seems to make him angrier.”

Not wanting to make him feel like we’re talking about him, we break apart before David notices our little huddle. Penny and John retreat inside once more to get what they need for the barbeque. Dani and Jade catch up while they pour everyone some drinks and I bring my parents over to David.

Not wanting to put the focus on David not remembering them, I introduce my parents to Ian first. “Ian, these are my parents, Walter and Meredith.” David nods at me, thankful to have the attention off himself.

“Nice to meet you,” Ian greets them from his chair.

“Likewise, Ian.” Mom sits in the chair next to Ian.

“David,” my father greets him, extending his hand. “Good to see you again.”

A blip of silence descends on the group as we wait for David to say something in return. Tension laces through my body, wrapping itself around my throat. Even though we all know he doesn’t remember much from his recent past, it’s still so difficult to be face-to-face with the person we know and love and watch him struggle.

Eventually, David settles on a simple, “Same here” as a response.

I can’t say there’s less awkwardness throughout the rest of the afternoon, but it is good to catch up with my parents and sister. While she tells me about how her classes are going, I can’t help but sneak glances at David standing next to the grill with his father. Even though he has to lean on his crutches for support, he’s helping him cook.

He’s laughing, too. It’s such a rich and full sound. Pulling me from my conversation with my sister, I would do anything to be able to make him laugh like that.

Catching on to my distracted state, Dani drops a hand to my arm. “He’ll get there. Don’t worry.”

And though I smile and nod, I’m getting more than a little tired of people telling me that. I know in my heart that with each passing day, we’re getting further from the possibility of him remembering everything.

But as I stand there, watching him talk on and on about god knows what, I begin to realize I don’t care if he remembers anything at all.

Because I still love him with all my heart.

And the heart is what matters.

“Can I help with those?” My crutches give me away, making Mom turn around before the words actually come out of my mouth.

Swatting me away, she deflects my offer to help, saying, “I got this, but I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I can dry.” Snagging a dishtowel from the rack next to the sink, I hobble into position and dry the first of the dishes. “Kitchen’s nice. It’s new.”

“Yep,” she agrees, never taking her eyes away from the task at hand. “You and your father did most of the work. You actually helped install this sink.”

There’s something different about hearing my memories from her mouth, something calming. “I did a nice job, huh?”

“You did beautiful work.” She goes on to tell me how I helped tile the backsplash and even the floor. “And that cabinet . . .” She pauses, tipping her chin to the door above my head and to the right. “See how the knob is all out of place compared to the rest of them?”

“I guess I should stick to tile work,” I joke, laughing at the out-of-line placement of the handle.

“Oh no, sweetie. That was your father’s handiwork. He didn’t want to bother you, so he tried to do one on his own. I hid the drill on him after I saw the first one and called you immediately. All the rest are perfect.” Turning off the water, she leans back against the counter. Taking the towel from my hands, she dries her own.

“I can fix it you know,” I say out of nowhere. “All we need is a little putty and some tint to match the cabinet. It might not be perfect, but it’ll look better than that.”

Misty eyed, she nods. “Just tell me what I need to get and I will. You two can come over for dinner one night.” More than appreciative she doesn’t make a big deal out of me remembering how to do something, I drape my arm over her shoulder.

All too casually, she folds up the towel and asks, “So how are things going over there?”

Not willing to say more than “good,” I leave it at that. And that’s enough for Mom. Not wanting to pry, or maybe not wanting to hear something that’ll upset her, she drops that line of conversation.

Grace walks into the room right before the silence gets awkward. “Hey, you two.”

“I’m going to go put out the coffee and dessert.” Mom excuses herself, leaving me and Grace alone in the kitchen.

“How you holding up?” As she walks toward me, her hair in long coppery waves, something in my chest falls into place. Despite not being able to remember every single detail about our past, I can remember her from yesterday and the day before. She’s the only constant part in my life right now and it’s a consistency that I need more than I’d like to admit.

Shrugging makes my crutch slide out from under my arm, clattering against the cream tile floor. “Okay, I guess. I mean as good as I can be. It’s weird to be here and not recall much.” Bending down, I grab my crutch from the floor and make my way over to a stool at the L shaped counter. Grace sits next to me, her familiar scent billowing around me, comforting me. “I’ve met your parents before, right?”