“My sister?” Isabelle looked from Jack to Charlie and back to Jack again. Clearly, she didn’t remember having a sibling.
“Maybe seeing her and talking to her will help clear the fog around your memory.” Jack whispered the words, allowing her the opportunity to decide what to reveal to her employer and what to conceal.
“Ahm...” She stepped up to the bar and hesitated. “Do you know where I can find her?” The uneasiness in her voice reached out and grabbed hold of Jack, shaking his confidence.
“At home, I’d imagine.” Charlie’s demeanor didn’t falter. He hadn’t recognized Isabelle’s dilemma.
“Would you happen to know where that is?” she asked as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Charlie gave her look that said, if you don’t know where it is, how am I supposed to? Then his expression grew suspicious.
“Isabelle has suffered a bit of amnesia, see,” Jack said, aiming to resolve the confusion.
“Amnesia, huh?” Charlie played it off, like he knew the score. “Well, you gave June your personal information the other night when you sang.” He turned away from the bar and headed toward the office. “I’ll get her to check it out,” he added, glancing over his shoulder.
Charlie disappeared behind the office door and Isabelle glanced at Jack, looking worried.
“It seems odd that I have no spark of memory for a sister.” She leaned against the bar, her face paling.
“Well, it is a little strange, but I’ve never actually known anyone with amnesia before, so I guess anything’s possible.” Jack shrugged and rested against the bar. He caressed her arm, hoping to comfort her. This whole amnesia business seemed strange and surreal, but she needed him. She had no recollection beyond her interactions with him. She had no one else to turn to.
“Nothing seems familiar to me, other than you.” She pounded her fist against the bar. “Nothing else that I see, hear or talk about sparks the least bit of familiarity for me. And why do I talk about things that you know nothing about?”
That was a good question. One for which he had no answer. “I don’t know, Isabelle.” He paused, took hold of her hand and tugged her toward him. “I’m not a doctor, but I can only assume that since you have no memories, then maybe your brain has fabricated some things for you, see.” He hesitated, searching his mind for some way to lighten the mood. “And they’re some pretty wild stories, too. You should write them down.” He chuckled and draped her in his arms. He didn’t know how much good it did her, but it sure helped him.
“Oh, you’re just a barrel of laughs, aren’t you?” Izzy slid her arms around Jack, enjoying the feel of his rock-hard frame. The office door swung open and she turned toward it but didn’t recognize the woman who came out, followed by Charlie.
“Izzy, I’m so happy to see you up and around.” The woman approached them and handed her a slip of paper. “This is the address you gave me when you sang the other night. Is there anything we can do for you?”
“This is more help than you know.” Izzy smiled, slipping the paper from her hand. “Thank you.”
“Are you up to singing tonight?” Charlie asked, all business-like.
“Yes,” Izzy said. “Yes, of course.”
“You go on at nine.” He reached for his towel and began wiping the counter down again.
“I’ll be here,” Izzy said with a nod. Jack offered his arm. She laced hers around his and let him lead her away. “Do you know where that is?” she asked, offering June’s paper.
He glimpsed at the address and studied it for a moment. “I’ve got a map in the car,” he said, opening the door. They ventured outside and he plucked the aviator sunglasses from his jacket and put them on to shade his eyes.
“Man, if we could just look it up on—” Izzy stopped and looked at him, fear of the unknown fueling her uncertainty.
“Look it up on what?” he asked, leading her to the car.
“Well, I was going to say, Google Earth. But truthfully, I have no idea what Google Earth is.” Anxiety escaped, frustration rose in her voice and she stiffened.
“Let’s not worry about that right now.” He opened the car door and coaxed her inside. “Let’s just concentrate on one thing at a time, see. We’ll go see your sister, find out what she knows, and go from there.”
His rational words made sense. Still, the whole concept of a sister sounded foreign.
The drive, although uneventful, served as a time-out of sorts, giving Izzy a chance to consider the gravity of her situation. She had a sister who, for the life of her, she couldn’t remember. And life in 1946 seemed like a foreign concept.
Jack parked along the sidewalk and Izzy glanced out the window at the address June had offered back at the club. A paved walkway meandered up the center of the yard and twisted through elm and maple trees, shading the three-story boarding house.
Jack sprinted around the Chevy and opened the door. Offering his hand, he gave her little tug and urged her out of the car. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked.
She wanted to say yes, but decided against it. “No.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to. I’m sure you have other stuff you need to be doing. Like your duties for the Air Force.”
He examined her face, his brow crinkling. “Air Force?” He repeated her words in a curious tone. “Not many civilians are familiar with the newly devised Army Air Force.”
Army Air Force? That didn’t sound right, either. Unable to find the right adage, she shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. “I guess that’s another one of those strange little things my mind likes fabricating.”
“Fair enough.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “Sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“No.” She struggled to get the words out. “I need to concentrate on my memory. And you are quite the distraction.” She fought the urge to smile, glancing past him toward the cozy, inviting yard and the boarding house hidden behind it.
“Well, I hope you mean that in a good way.” He may have tried to hide his nervousness, but she detected it anyway.
“The best.” She drew him closer. Enjoying the feel of his strapping physique, she let her hands explore his back, memorizing every inch of him. “I wouldn’t be opposed to your showing up at the club tonight,” she said in an inviting whisper.
He leaned back, far enough to gaze at her face. “I’ll be there.” With a wink and a kiss on the cheek, he was gone.
Izzy watched him drive away and disappear around the corner. Once he was gone, she turned her attention to the yard and the house in which she was supposed to live.
The latch on the gate creaked as she opened it. She scanned the yard, dressed in maple and elms. Stepping inside, she strolled toward the house. A variety of flowers dotted the landscape and hydrangea bushes with pink blooms lined the porch.
Nothing about the yard or the house seemed familiar.
She strode up to the porch, balancing her hand on the steps’ railing. A covered swing tempted her, but she pushed herself to go inside in search of a sister she couldn’t remember.
She opened the door and a small entryway expanded into a large living area. A young woman with dark hair sat poised on a couch, alongside two older women with hair the color of silvery-white clouds.
The girl hesitated a moment, but her composure crumbled in an instant and she jumped to her feet. “Izzy.”
Unfamiliar arms swallowed her up, but Izzy felt nothing. Harboring a bit of reluctance, she enveloped the stranger with a loose embrace.
“I was worried when I went to the hospital Sunday morning, and you were gone.” The girl’s voice cracked, and Izzy felt sorry for her.
But that’s all she felt. There was no recollection, no deep-rooted sibling love trying to escape.
“Where have you been?” Her sister scrutinized her with efficient curiosity and a shrewd glare.
Good, Lord! Izzy tensed up, responding poorly to the interrogation drill. What am I...twelve? No wonder she’d ch
ose to forget her. She couldn’t swear to it but she figured she had to be over twenty-one. “I couldn’t remember where I lived. So, I went to a friend’s house.” Izzy’s verbal response came with a carefree, vacant tone. She didn’t care and she wasn’t in the mood to coddle anyone, least of all a sister she couldn’t remember.
“A friend?” The girl pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow.
Intuition told Izzy that her ‘sister’ knew about the amnesia thing. “A newfound friend.” Izzy glanced at the couches, showing particular interest for the empty one. “Can we sit? I’m not feeling well.” She felt her face flush.
The girl shot a horrified glance her way and dragged her to the nearest empty settee.
Izzy wasn’t comfortable with the girl’s constant need to touch her, and still wasn’t in the mood to placate anyone. She searched her face. How would she take a please don’t touch me request? “I’m sorry, but I have no recollection of you.” She shook her head, funny-like. “What is your name?”
“I’m Jeannie.” The girl delivered a reassuring smile along with her name.
“Miller?”
She nodded.
“Who’s older?”
“Me.”
“By how much?”
“Two years.” She folded her hands across her lap, undaunted by Izzy’s interrogation.
They talked the afternoon away, and Dottie, the proprietor of the boarding house served cookies and tea to Izzy, Jeannie and Dottie’s friend Gladys.
Jeannie’s story included antidotes of their birthplace in Ohio and their subsequent decision to move out to California so Izzy could pursue her musical career. Jeannie, being well-versed in typing, shorthand and other office duties had no trouble finding work no matter where they chose to go.
During the course of the afternoon, Izzy also heard Dottie’s story of how she, as a young war bride, traveled from England at the end of World War One.
Jeannie’s story seemed just as foreign as Dottie’s. No matter how she tried, Izzy couldn’t muster any familiarity or connection with her supposed sister’s story.
That enhanced her desire to seek out Jack Baker.
CHAPTER 10
THE ONE PLACE Izzy didn’t feel out of place—besides wrapped around Jack—was on the stage at the Cool Cat. Songs that seemed foreign to her and resided just outside the voice of reason, poured from her heart like an old friend.
Later in the evening, the lounge packed with patrons, Izzy had just started to sing a song about love waltzing in the door. Right on cue, Jack wandered in. He took a stride or two toward the stage and stopped to watch her and listen to the words she sang.
With a smirkish grin crossing his face, Jack strolled to the end of the bar nearest the stage, winking as he sat down. He spoke to the bartender and then turned back to Izzy, his stare drilling into her soul. A reactive blush powdered her cheeks hot.
When the song was done, she left the stage and approached him with an unconscious smile.
The bartender placed a beer in front of him. “How’d the meeting with your sister go?” Jack wrapped his arm around Izzy, luring her closer and reached for the beer with his free hand.
“Not well.” She frowned.
“No recollection?” He scooped up the beer and took a leisurely swallow. She picked up on the uneasiness shining, momentarily, like a new penny on his face.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “She filled me in on our childhood. Apparently, I was born and raised in Ohio.” Even as she said it, it sounded wrong.
“You don’t sound so sure of that.”
“I’m not,” she said with a delicate shrug. “She told me a lot of stuff, but none of it stuck.”
“I was hoping your sister would spark some familiarity for you.”
“She seems as foreign to me as Dottie, my very vocal and opinionated landlady.” Izzy bit back the frustration of having to share a tiny studio apartment with someone she didn’t know, even if she was supposed to be her sister.
“What’s wrong, Isabelle?” Jack massaged the small of her back. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s very uncomfortable, you know...living in such close quarters with someone you don’t know.” She tried to hide her discomfort without much luck, overlooking her willingness to spend all her time with Jack—a man she didn’t know.
“You want to stay at the bungalow for awhile?” The suggestion came to him in an instant, she could tell by the way it lit his face.
“Could I?” Her hope didn’t last long, once she thought about the bungalow’s purpose. “That’s probably not a good idea,” she said, shaking her head. “I might cramp your friends’ style.”
Jack chuckled. “I’ll talk to them. It’ll be okay.”
“You sure?” She wanted so much for that to be true. She longed for privacy. At least from everyone but Jack.
“Absolutely.” He smiled and gave her a wink.
“I’d like to at least let Jeannie know I’m going to be staying elsewhere for a while...and pick up a few of my things,” she added, thinking of the clothing she’d been offered at the bungalow. She needed something that was more to her taste. She wasn’t quite sure what that was, but the things at the bungalow weren’t it.
“I’ll wait until you’re done,” he said, settling in for the duration.
Izzy had two more songs to sing, and Jack waited patiently while she performed them. While she was on stage, a man entered the club and seemed to recognize Jack, heading straight for him. She sang, and watched the two men as they talked.
From time to time, Jack’s companion would sneak a peek at her and then quickly turn his attention back to Jack—who never did look at her. Jack did point in her direction once, and then back at the guy, who laughed in response.
Izzy sensed the tension building between the two men. It looked as if their conversation started to take a turn when Jack’s faced tensed and he stood, towering over the other guy forcefully. Jack’s acquaintance leaned back. A flurry of hand gestures followed from both men.
Up on stage, Izzy hesitated and contemplated, for a second or two, about breaking the boys up. She had no doubt that Jack could handle himself, but other worries lingered in the back of her mind. Fights between men never turned out good. It usually led to someone storming away, or worse yet, somehow getting hurt, and she feared that Jack might turn out to be that someone.
She started to sing the next number with trepidation shaking her voice. Jack didn’t leave. The other guy was the one to walk away and that pleased her, strengthening her voice.
Izzy finished her last song of the night and she and Jack left the Cool Cat together. He was all pleasantry and smiles, never mentioning the guy who came in, the beef they’d had or what they’d disagreed on.
She fought her curiosity, keeping quiet, as Jack opened the car door for her. It was better to let it go. Sooner or later, she had to trust him. If it was something she needed to know, Jack would tell her. Her head told her to drop it, but getting her memory back might prove easier.
Jack and Isabelle strolled up the steps to the porch surrounding the boarding house. He hesitated, glancing at the swing. “Perhaps, I should wait for you out here?”
She didn’t object. “Okay. I’ll just be a minute.”
She disappeared inside and he took a seat on the swing. It creaked slightly, so he made a conscious effort to remain still. Reflecting on the evening’s events, he thought about the encounter he’d had with George Hadley. The jealousy he’d felt over Hadley’s reaction to Isabelle had surprised him, churning the tension, twisting and knotting it in his stomach. For the first time, Jack didn’t like hearing anyone talk about, look at or think of a woman—a particular woman—in that way.
The front door to the boarding house eased open and Izzy stepped out. He glanced up and got flooded by the idea that he might be falling for her. If he was, there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not that he wanted to.
Gathering his wits, he rose and moved toward
her. “Ready?” He offered his arm and she took it. “No arguments from your sister?” he asked as they traipsed down the steps.
Isabelle shook her head. “She was sleeping. I decided not to wake her. I left her a note instead.”
Jack chuckled at the audacity of her statement and the simplicity in her tone. He moved her quickly through the yard and out to his car. He wanted to get her out of there before her sister had a chance to wake up and remove Isabelle from what she thought were the clutches of a man whose intentions were lustful at best.
He settled Isabelle into the car, eased the door shut and trotted around to the driver’s side. Jack tried to limit his anticipation by climbing inside and starting the engine. On the verge of making a clean getaway, he shifted the car into gear and pulled away from the curb.
Isabelle rested her arm along the back of the seat. “Who was that guy earlier this evening?”
Uh oh, here it comes. He was well aware of Hadley’s lure over women. They all thought he was the cat’s meow. Jack hated the thought of losing Isabelle to him, but if it was going to happen, it was better that he found out now.
“His name is George,” he said, defeat entering his tone.
“A friend of yours?” Her tone was as placid as her expression. Nothing about either gave her away.
“More like acquaintance.” Jack glanced at her, wishing she preferred him to George. “He’s quite the ladies’ man.” He let his attention travel back to the road.
“You guys seemed to be immersed in quite a heated conversation.”
“That we were,” he said, but didn’t offer any more information.
“And you don’t want to talk about it.” She moved closer.
He relented and gave in. This was it. The moment of truth. “He wanted to know if I thought you’d go out with him.” He cut a quick glimpse at her, searching for a hint of how she felt.
Shock saturated her face for a split-second, but she recovered quickly and gathered her senses easily. “And what’d you say?”
“I said that I’d prefer the two of you didn’t go out, see.” He turned his attention back to the road, not wanting to see her face in case she demolished his aspirations.
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