"Do you want to step out for an early dinner, DiStefano's maybe, for Angel Hair Marinara?"
"No, I'm really tired. I'd rather stay home. Let's cook."
“Okay.” They went into the kitchen. Sam thought it was the most beautiful, well-designed well thought-out kitchen she’d ever seen in her life, complete with stainless steel appliances, white marble countertops, whitewashed cabinetry, and grey tiled floor and backsplash. Crisp. Clean. Modern. Laid out for maximum flow and efficiency, but yet still beachy.
“We have frozen vegetables,” he said as he looked in the freezer.
“We have rotini pasta,” she said looking in the pantry. “How about Pasta Primavera?”
“Sure. Here’s the veg. I’ll put the water on for the pasta.”
“Jaks, what’s that?” She pointed to the attachment on the faucet.
“It’s a special water purifier. We’ve got them all over, sinks, shower, we even take them with us when we travel. I have water issues, My Darling.” She nodded, accepting it without question.
Samantha was busy making a sauce for the vegetables. Jakson picked out a bottle of wine for dinner, set the table, and soon they were sitting down next to each other having dinner.
“Sam, this is very good!”
“Thanks, Jaks. I’m glad you like it. This is a wonderful kitchen. I just love it. It’s so well planned. Great flow. And it’s so beautiful.”
“Well, you planned it and you picked everything out. I’m glad you still like it. Honey, does anything seem familiar yet?”
“Yes. The little lighthouses in the bathroom,” she said. “I remember them.”
“What do you remember?” He held his breath.
“I remember buying some of them on vacation a long time ago. I remember walking into a little shop on the boardwalk and picking one up, marveling at the beautiful intricate detailed work and how much it looked like the lighthouse we just visited.”
“Do you remember, uh, me… right there with you?”
“No, not exactly you, just that somebody was with me. Sorry.” He put his head down.
“That’s okay. But I was there. I was right there next to you, my legs still aching from all those steps up to the top of the lighthouse and back down. But the view was breathtaking. Worth it.” She nodded, not because she remembered, but to soothe him.
“And I remember you bringing me one back every time you had to go away without me.”
“Yes! Yes! That’s right. Oh, thank God! You remember me, ME bringing you one home from any trip I ever had to take without you?” She nodded, but really didn’t remember anything else. “You usually come with me when I travel. I never leave you home alone unless I’m going into a dangerous place, but sometimes it happens. I was hoping once I got you home, and you could relax, your memory would start to return. Who would have thought the little lighthouses would do it!” He jumped up and hugged her, picking her up and twirling her around, kissing her head, her cheek, her ear. “I love you. And I know you’re going to be just fine!”
“Lighthouses light your way when you are lost,” she said. “Sometimes people who feel lost or alone or frightened find comfort and solace in lighthouses, with their beacons of light to guide one’s way back home. How long have I collected lighthouses?”
“You had a few when we met. Let me think, you had one from Cape Hatteras, one from Cape Cod, one from Cape May, and one from someplace on Lake Erie. You bought those yourself while traveling. You had them in the living room at your apartment. On top of a bookcase,” he nodded. “Sam, do you feel lost or alone or frightened?”