Remember to Forget by Deborah Raney Read Free Book Online Page A

smile grew. “Mmm . . . sounds good.” She patted her husband’s cheek. “What time is it anyway?”
    “It’s only four, but I gotta have some coffee if I’m gonna stay on the road.”
    “You want me to drive, babe?”
    The couple’s affectionate exchange warmed Maggie even as it made her squirm. Their simple touches seemed deeply intimate—something she had no right to witness, but something she longed to know.
    As if Sandy had just remembered they had a passenger, she turned in her seat and gave a little wave. “Mornin’. Did you get some sleep?”
    Maggie nodded, feeling very much a fifth wheel. Sandy climbed out and opened Maggie’s door. She eased her achy legs to the curb, stretched, and followed the couple into the diner.
    The clock over the bar counter reminded her that it was now Wednesday morning. She could barely believe she’d lived for one day without Kevin. And he without her. Did he feel as liberated from her as she did from him right now?
    Rick ordered the short stack with bacon and eggs for the three of them, waiting while Maggie told the waitress how she wanted her eggs.
    Rick shook out his napkin and tucked it in the neck of his shirt. “So, Meg, what takes you to Ohio?”
    She took a long drink from her water glass, stalling. “I’m just visiting.”
    “Oh?” Sandy smiled. “You have family there?”
    “No . . . friends.” She gave a quick smile, then glanced away.
    “That’s nice.” Sandy ran her fingers over the Formica tabletop. “What part of Columbus do they live in?”
    Maggie cast about for an answer that wouldn’t give her away. “I’m not sure. I-I don’t really know the town that well.”
    “You have an address though,” Rick said, more a statement than a question.
    Sandy’s voice took on a motherly timbre. “Did you find out where to meet the bus for your luggage?”
    “My luggage?” For a minute, she’d forgotten the story she’d told them about her bags being on the bus. “Oh, yeah. I have a number to call.”
    Sandy rummaged in a huge leather purse. She came up with a cell phone and handed it across the table to Maggie. “Here, you can use my phone.”
    “No . . . I mean, I already called.” Lies were rolling off her tongue like buses out of Port Authority.
    “Oh, that’s good.”
    Maggie nodded and looked past Sandy to see the waitress approaching with a loaded tray. She prayed it was their order. Again she had that odd sensation that heaven was suddenly hearing her prayers, for the waitress stopped at their table and slid overflowing plates in front of each of them.
    At the fragrant steam of pancakes and maple syrup Rick and Sandy seemed to forget their interrogation.
    They ate their food in silence, Rick and Sandy engrossed in the morning newspaper they’d picked up in the lobby, and Maggie concentrating on each morsel she lifted to her mouth. She didn’t know when a meal had tasted so good. They hadn’t even looked at menus, but a cardboard tent propped between the salt and pepper listed the short stack at $3.99. She calculated what the meal would be with a tip. After their waitress refilled their coffee cups, Maggie excused herself and followed the woman to the register.
    “Can I get the check for our table?”
    “Sure.” The woman scrounged in the pocket of her uniform until she came up with the right ticket. She rang it up while Maggie peeled a ten and a five from the wad of bills in her pocket. It would deplete her cash seriously, but it was the least she could do for the couple who’d helped her get almost five hours farther down the road—away from Kevin.
    With the receipt in her pocket, she followed the signs to the rest room at the back of the diner. She brushed her teeth and combed her hair, glad she’d thought to buy those things at the first bus stop. She worked her hair into a wispy French braid, cringing to discover that her hair was greasy enough to stay braided without a rubber band. When she got back to the