Promise Me (Asher Family #1)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

SADIE

I know I lost my memory, but I’m about to lose my mind.

“Here is your charger, too. Make sure your phone is always plugged in. Call or text us with whatever you need, but only use it to reach us. Keep it face down and don’t use it otherwise.” Linc turns to my father, who is smiling but on the verge of tears as he keeps his focus on me. “Dad, do you think we should buy her a bell instead?”

“A bell?”

He cannot be serious right now. I slap my hand down on my bed and glare at my brother.

I’m home, but it feels a lot like what I imagine jail could be like.

“Yes, a bell,” Linc says calmly. I can see in the way his jaw twitches that he wanted to be a little firmer with his comment. “You aren’t supposed to use electronics for a few days, and you know it.”

I resist another eye roll.

“I have a feeling that using a phone for a ten-second call or text won’t be that big of a deal. ”

Linc shakes his head. “I’ll go get a bell this afternoon. I have three showings today in the Lovers Hopefuls, so it won’t be till later.”

Lover Hopefuls is just outside of Lovers and a little past the lodge. Technically, it’s still just Lovers, but the vacationers live in that area. The ones who only stay for the summer months. The houses are larger than the standard size, and most of the families who own them live full-time in the big cities. Some are even filled with rich boys who think a summer fling should just pick up right where it left off the year before, despite the broken heart they leave you with.

I choose to curl up on my side and not reply. Linc says, “I’m going to reschedule. You should not be left alone.”

“I’m here,” my dad says quietly.

“Yeah, and you're a sucker for your daughter. She’ll be watching movies and scrolling Instagram by the time I get back. All she’d have to do is smile at you.”

Our dad chuckles and shakes his head at the same time.

“I both love my daughter and want her to get better. I’ll be strict.”

This time, it’s me who chuckles.

Even Linc smiles.

“Hey, I was strict last year when she asked to get a dog, and I put my foot down with a no.”

My laughter stops. “I wanted to get a dog?”

Two sets of golden-brown eyes fall on me, and silence fills the room.

A tear manages to escape. I don’t wipe it away fast enough.

“I’m rescheduling,” Lincs repeats and walks out of my bedroom.

“I’m sorry, munchkin,” Dad says softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. ”

“It’s okay. At this point, sharing a memory about something I don’t remember is bound to happen.”

He nods.

“I’ll let you be. Call if you need anything.”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head, and then moves to the door. He pauses, looking back.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

He nods once more and then leaves the room.

“Leave it open,” Linc whispers to him in the hallway as if I can’t hear.

This time, I do roll my eyes.

I flop on my back and stare at the ceiling.

What am I supposed to do now?

“Sadie, what the hell are you doing?”

I hold up my empty water glass and then stand in front of the fridge, pressing it to the built-in filter.

Linc jumps up from where he’d been sitting at the kitchen island with his laptop.

“Dad, turn the TV off while she’s down here.”

Dad and I both snort.

“I’m not even looking at it.”

“You might.” My brother reaches for my glass. “Now get back in bed and let me do this.”

“Linc, stop.”

“Sadie, go back to your room.”

“I’m not on bed rest, Linc.”

“Just please go upstairs,” he pleads.

I groan and walk out of the kitchen.

I’m halfway up the stairs when I see a picture of myself, Linc, and our dad .

I don’t remember it.

It’s clearly in the backyard because I see my brother’s babies, also known as his tomato plants, in the background. My dress is super cute, but I still don’t remember it. We took the picture to remember something. That moment, that day. What were we celebrating?

I take another step and see a picture of my mom.

My heart does this weird lurch thing. To everyone else, she’s been gone for three years, but for me, she just left.

I hold back my tears until I get to my room.

Maybe Linc is right. Sitting in here is better for me.

This one day feels like it’s actually been a whole month.

I reach for my phone to check the time.

I barely see that it’s four in the afternoon when my door swings open.

“What do you need?”

I startle. “What the hell, Linc? Are you just standing out there watching me through the crack?”

“I was walking to the bathroom and saw you grab your phone.”

“I was just looking at the time.”

“No screens, Sadie.”

“It was the time, Linc.”

He stands over me with his hands on his hips.

My dad suddenly appears at the door with a suitcase at his side. Not just any suitcase. The stupid fancy shiny black one I got Linc for Christmas last year. Or, well, four years ago now, I guess. Mom helped me pick it out.

“Why are you using Linc’s suitcase? Are you going somewhere? ”

Dad shakes his head.

“I’m staying here for a couple of weeks,” Linc says matter-of-factly.

“What? No.”

“I just want to be here to help,” he says with a softer tone.

I know he’s worried about me, but this is crazy.

“I’m fine with Dad, Linc.”

He looks over his shoulder at our father, who just shrugs.

“I know you are, but we both have to work, and it would be easier for us to get things done if there is always someone here with you.”

“It's going to be fine. I have my phone.”

Linc takes it from my hand as I wave it in front of his face.

“That you shouldn’t be on. I should have bought the bell.”

He takes my phone and heads for the door.

I want to yell and scream at him, tell my dad to back me up here, but I don’t.

I don’t know how we navigate this any more than they do. I don’t think Linc is going about it as he should, but fighting with him adds more stress for all of us. He thinks I wasn’t listening to the doctor, but I was. Stress helped get me here; adding more is off the table.

Even so, if Linc keeps this up, I know I won’t be able to handle it.

I’m not sure how I’m going to take care of my overprotective brother, but I’m sure it’ll come to me.

And it does.

I’ve made my plan by the time dinner arrives the next day, served to me in my room for fear I might look at the TV again.