“You used to eat more than that,” Bobbi said, munching happily on a taco for lunch.

Grace pushed her enchilada around her plate, taking a few bites and trying really hard not to throw up. “I’ve lost weight, but I’m feeling better now.” Which was a total lie. She looked around the brightly decorated restaurant, feeling as if she had been there before. The margarita in front of her was delicious, but she was careful not to drink too much. Alcohol didn’t agree with her any longer. Not much did.

They’d been all around town, and oddly enough, she had ordered many of the same items she used to, according to Bobbi. Some of the places had seemed familiar, but no memories were jogged loose. She’d learned that Brian had become a real estate agent and that Bobbi still worked as a bank teller.

“I really appreciate you two doing this all day with me.” She took a sip of the drink.

Bobbi’s green eyes softened. “I wish a memory would just hit you.”

Brian tossed down the rest of his drink. “Maybe that’ll happen tomorrow. Like your subconscious will work on it and then boom. You’ll remember us.”

That’d be great. Grace’s vision blurred, and she waited it out, accustomed to the experience. The headache that followed was as normal as breathing for most people.

Bobbi pulled out a photo album. “If you’re finished eating, take a look at these pictures. I thought maybe they might help.” She slid a dark blue album across the table. “Since Brian hasn’t packed yet, it was easy to find.” She nudged him in the ribs.

He rolled his eyes. “I will pack. Tomorrow.”

Grace flipped open the top page to find a picture of herself, about seven years ago, smiling next to Brian with a cake in front of her. “My birthday?”

“Yeah,” Brian said. “I brought you here and had a cake waiting. I gave you a bracelet.”

She had no idea where that bracelet was, darn it. “Who took all of these pictures?” There were some cute ones, but they were obviously taken by amateurs.

“Different people,” he said, reaching for another taco. “You always were a snob about phone shots, but I liked the pictures.”

She grinned. “Fair enough.” She flipped through, seeing photographs of them with other people, all smiling. “You’re not in here, Bobbi.”

“Nope.” Bobbi took a healthy drink of her blended margarita. “The three of us didn’t hang out. We were from different parts of your life, until you got hurt. If you want, we can check out our new house tomorrow, and I can dig through boxes for some pictures I have of us.”

A waiter brought over three cupcakes with sparklers.

Bobbi laughed. “You have to remember these. Blow yours out.”