The Lingering Kiss of Farewell novel Chapter 18

CH 18

Marilyn

She was discharged from the hospital a week later, and the social worker had organised home help for her for the next month, and organised patient transport to her home, or the address that was on her driver’s license. The police had dropped off her one suitcase, and handbag with her belongings in it.

Even to her, it looked as though she had been travelling from somewhere, returning home, she guessed. There was a laptop in that suitcase, some clothes and a couple of books all with her name on them, all written by Marilyn Riddley. There was no picture of herself on them, but she’d flipped through them and smiled as she’d gotten the sense that she was the actual author of those books.

When she’d turned that laptop on, there had been a password to unlock it, and she’d been able to recall the password. It was the main character from her first book. She smiled to herself, even knew where to put the capital letters. She’d gone through it and was not wrong. There were on that laptop all of her books plus the one she was clearly working on. Something finally felt familiar to her. She was Marilyn Riddley Author.

She’d googled the woman and found not a great deal. Her books sold quite well, yet there was no picture of her. She was a bit of a recluse, it seemed, and didn’t want those around her to know who she was. It was all there in her bio. The only thing known about her was that she lived in Virginia. It stated her bio had been

updated only six weeks ago.

At least that was something. She was who she thought she was.

Arriving at her home in Bedford, there was a woman standing waiting for them at the house. It was a quaint two–bedroom cottage, all white, with a covered veranda at the front, a few potted plants, and she could see. there was a barn–style building off to the side. It was a lovely property with a tree–lined driveway, acreage she knew, all the details of the sale of the house were on her laptop as well. This house sat on six acres and the gates at the front of the property were simple and white, had stood open.

There were many deliveries lined up along the veranda as well. She’d not been ho to take delivery, and so they’d been left in a safe place. Her home couldn’t be seen from the road down the long driveway. So anywhere was good, she thought.

The patient transport assisted her out of the vehicle and into the house, and the woman standing there had smiled at her and introduced herself as Barb, would be there to help her every day for the next four weeks

until her casts came off.

There wasn’t much by way of furnishings. “It looks like you’re just moving in, Miss Riddley.”

She could only agree. “I got in an accident on my way here,” she nodded. “This is now moving day I guess.”

“Hmm, you’re not going to make it up those stairs to your bedroom,” Barb had stated as she looked up at the

stairs.

“It is unlikely,” Marilyn nodded. “Guess I’ll be sleeping on the floor until I can get a bed delivered.”

“There are a fair few deliveries outside, let me go check them and see what’s there.”

Barb was not only a helpful woman, but she was a doer as well. Had gone off and checked the mailbox for her and brought back a bunch of mail. There were two bank cards in there, from her bank. That was good.

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1/3

< CH 18

She could actually pay for things, and she’d been able to access her bank from her laptop.

+8 Points

She’d damned near fallen out of her wheel chair at the bank balance. This house had been purchased only a few weeks ago, and cost nearly a million dollars, though she had a feeling it was more the land she was on than the actual house itself. She’d gotten a massive transfer just a few weeks ago from some bank in Huston, Texas.

Seems she’d lived and worked out there, and had moved here. There were no pictures on her laptop of her previous life, just those manuscripts were all. Nothing about her old life, she’d obviously left it behind her to

move here. Her eyes had moved to her left hand once more, and she wondered if that doctor had been right.

She’d gotten a divorce and that was why she’d moved away.

Anything was possible, but she couldn’t dwell on it, and if it had been painful, she was now lucky enough not to recall it at all, she had no memories prior to waking up in the hospital. At least she’d not forgotten who she

was.

Barb came back with a list of the items from the invoices out there on the packages, and told her some of it was furniture, though in the mail there had been several things that stated they weren’t able to deliver because she wasn’t there. To call for re–delivery a fee would be charged. That annoyed her a bit, not the fee but not having a phone; it had not been recovered and given to her. Lost out there at the scene of the accident, she guessed.

Barb not only let her use her phone, she was kind enough to take her to get a new phone, as well and do grocery shopping. The woman, it seemed, had the biggest, kindest heart in the world. She was friendly and happy to help in all areas. Enjoyed her job as a carer. Between her and Barb, they’d sorted out the deliveries of all the things that had not been to heavy, the rest were left for a handyman that Barb knew. He was coming the next day to help bring all those boxes inside and unpack and build all the things that needed it as well.

Barb had made dinner and bid her farewell, to see her tomorrow. The woman was amazing, and she couldn’t fault a single thing about her. Marilyn was happy to have her in the house, and it made for a nice and easier life over the next few weeks as she got settled in to her life here in Virginia.

It was Barb that took her to the fracture clinic to have her casts removed, and boy wasn’t she glad to have that done, though there were, she now saw, several scars on her legs from where she’d been trapped inside

Out of her accident the wreckage of her car. They’d had to cut her out of her own car. She’d not co unscathed, that was for sure.

There was a scar that ran down her left arm, one near her temple in her hairline, and she had several down and around her rib cage as well. But there was nothing she could do about it, she just had to deal with them, like she had to, not having a memory.

Barb, over the past four weeks, had tried to help her jog her memory. She would randomly call out places in Texas, walk through the house, looked at her working at her desk and stated “How was the weather in Dallas?” or “I hear the shopping in Austin was good.” Looking at her for an answer.

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