He tented his legs, rose to a squat and then held out his hand so she could help him stand. “Lena, my little lark. What are you doing here?”

“Remember, Dad. We’re taking a day trip today. You, Hallie and me.”

“Oh, yes!” His eyes lit up. “I was just headed out in the boat for a quick net of shrimp before I went to the pub. I totally forgot.”

They both glanced at the water then, as the johnboat, loosed from its mooring, bobbed away from the dock. Colleen caught the rope, a slithering snake, just in time. She pulled the boat back and retied it using the bowline nautical knot she’d known ever since she could walk onto the dock alone.

“Ready?” She turned to him and smiled.

“Where we headed?” he asked and rubbed his hip where he’d fallen.

“Jacksonville, Dad. I am taking you to see a specialist so we can figure out what’s going on.”

“Oh, yes.” His face brightened. “Thank God for you, my sweet Colleen. You’ll know what to do. They can’t be right. I feel . . . too . . . normal for something so catastrophic to be happening.”

He’d called her Colleen. This never happened. Little lark. Lena. But not Colleen. She placed her hand on his arm, reassuring him. “Dad, it seems that someone losing their memory wouldn’t use the word ‘catastrophic.’ Let’s go see this doctor.”

His smile fell and he closed his eyes. A soft sound of something near to sorrow escaped his lips and then he smiled as if he’d gone off into a dream.

“Dad?” she asked.

His eyes popped open. “Just a nice memory that rolls in on your name,” he said.

“What was it?” Colleen wanted to know. Anything that could evoke such a nostalgic smile would be something to put in the memory book.

Gavin shook his head. “Not now. Let’s head to Jacksonville.”

“We have to wait for Hallie; she’s coming, too.”

His grin reached all the way to his eyes, and she knew what it was: hope.

•   •   •

Colleen’s hands were tight on the steering wheel of Hallie’s minivan; she wasn’t accustomed to making long drives, but Hallie had insisted so she could work on her satchel full of papers while they traveled. Dad was in the passenger seat, fiddling with the knobs, trying to find a radio station. The floorboards were strewn with crushed crackers and empty juice boxes, discarded doll clothes and one empty Toy Story thermos rolling around.

“I don’t know why we’re doing this when we could be spending a perfectly lovely day together out on the river,” Gavin said. He flicked another button on the radio and the Beauty and the Beast sound track burst forth: “Be our guest, be our guest.”

Colleen pushed the off button. “Dad, we need to know what’s really going on.”