“I never dated until I was in college. I was one of those bookworms. Then there was the fear and all that stuff. That’s all in the past. We can go now.”

“Hold on, Cady. I understand the bookworm stuff, but not the fear part. Are you talking about the accident at the pond? You were the gutsiest of all your friends as I recall. Sassy, too,” he said, grinning.

“Yes, the accident left me with a lot of fears. I tried very hard to overcome them, but I wasn’t all that successful. Back then I wasn’t afraid of heights. I’m afraid of heights now, though. I didn’t know how to swim back then either. I developed a terrible fear of water. I’ll drive twenty miles out of my way to avoid going over a bridge with water underneath. Probably the worst fear of all is trusting people. The truth is, I don’t trust anyone, not even my parents. I’m no longer gutsy. I always play it safe, no matter what I do. Depending on your point of view, I guess I’m still sassy. I really don’t want to talk about this right now, Boomer. It depresses me.”

“Okay. I understand. At least I think I do. Maybe together we can work on the trust angle.”

He opened the car door for her just the way he was supposed to. She smiled. He was as uncomfortable as she was. She wished she was a little more worldly so she could put him at ease. He looked so good, and he smelled as good as he looked. She said so, and he laughed.

“Look, let’s just have a good time this evening. Let’s not talk about the past or about Pete, Andy, Amy, or Jeff. If you want to talk about all that tomorrow, we can do it. I’m thinking we both could use some quiet downtime. Agreed?”

“Okay. But we do need to talk, Boomer.”

“Yes, we do. And we will. Will you trust me?”

What a strange question. She thought about the question until she was satisfied in her own mind with her answer. “Yes.”

“I just want to run something by you, then we won’t talk about the past. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure.”

“I know how bad you want to get your memory back, and I understand. You need to remember on your own. It doesn’t matter what Pete or I or anyone else says. How do you feel about our doing a reenactment of that day? Pete and I could rig up a zip line. I don’t want you to give me your answer now, but I do want you to think about it. You have to be comfortable with it. You won’t be doing it for me or anyone else; you’ll be doing it for yourself. Will you think about it?”

“Okay, I’ll think about it. I never learned to swim, Boomer,” she said, fear ringing in her voice.

“You said you trusted me.”