She wakes up to him tugging upon her sleeve.

“Mommy! Mommy! I have to go to school soon. Where’s my lunch?”

“I…I…” She panics…”I think I it’s in the fridge, hold on.”

Sure enough it is. She doesn’t remember ever packing it though. She doesn’t even know his name yet. She thinks, what’s my name?

So many thoughts racing, their almost uncontrollable. He’s staring at her, as if he knows something is different about her. Children always know when things are off. It is as if intuition is at its peak at those ages.

He runs out the door, barely making the bus.

Now, time for some investigation. She runs upstairs, trying to find anything with a name on it. She has to know who she is, who they are, where she is, in order to answer questions later. Nothing makes sense and she is overwhelmed with only an afternoon to figure this out it seems.

She finds something. A filing cabinet of some fancy kind. After some ravaging she was able to find birth certificates. Apparently her name is Margaret, her son is Alvin, and her husband is Edward.

Really, Alvin? She thinks. Poor kid.

She is 32 years old, Edward is 34, and Alvin is 9. None of this makes sense to her. She feels she was older, but she can’t remember how old. Everything seems to be getting more difficult to remember from her previous life. Tears roll down her face. Jack, her real son, is no longer visible in her mind. She pretends to hug the floor as if it’s him but this only results in a prolonged anxiety spell. She knows this will solve nothing. She must figure out how to get back home and not forget everyone.

She reads on, finding out more and more about the family. Looking at photographs, drawings, mailings, anything she can use to gain information. It becomes less and less painful as she continues.

The door slams.

“Hunny!” Edward says.

“Yes, dear, I am in here.” Says Margaret.

“Did you make supper?”

She panics. “I’m so sorry. I failed to get anything done today.”

“Are you okay?” Edward asks.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just maybe a little bit of a flu coming on.”

“Okay, well, I guess me and the boy will go out to dinner. I’ll bring you something back my love. Please get some rest and be yourself again. I sure do miss your cooking.”

“I will. Thank you dear.”She says.

Finally, she’s alone again. Now, time to learn some recipes. The cookbook is extensive. Covered in flour and definitely used every day. She cannot imagine a woman cooking every single day but she gives it a chance. She picks something easy for tomorrow evening and hopes for the best.

Edward awakens her. “You fell asleep with the recipe book. How adorable.”

“Well, I wanted to make sure I was prepared for tomorrow.”

She sits with him, eats her dinner quietly, letting him talk about his day at work, who he had seen in town, and what new shoes he desires. She gathers more information and finds herself becoming intrigued the more he speaks. She starts to think hey this may not be that bad after all. His handsome, chiseled face radiates authenticity. Then she starts thinking of her own family again. Guilt rolls in. He kisses her. She feels his lips tug softly on hers then pull away even more gently. It was like nothing she felt before. So innocent. Her heart becomes weak as she looks in his eyes and she starts to feel as if she belongs here.

He holds her all night. Carefully caressing her body, memorizing every inch of her skin, so he can remember it forever. She does the same, barely sleeping all night.