The front door opened. “Ready or not,” Rob called out, “here we come.”

She put the picture back and made her way over to the couch as Rob walked in with him, apparently throwing his weight back to hold onto the dog.

“Easy, Doog!” Rob let the dog approach.

She reached out for his head, and he quickly settled down and laid his head in her lap while she stroked his velvety ears. His large brown eyes flicked from Rob to Laura, happy to be back where he belonged.

“Labbybrat?” she asked.

Rob laughed. “Yes, that’s what we call him. Sometimes he’s the—”

Emotions and memories flowed through her, overwhelming. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes as the word came from somewhere. “Labbybratamooseasaurus.”

* * *

Rob couldn’t help the bittersweet thought. But she can’t remember my pet name for her, or how I proposed to her. He nodded. “Yes. The moose.”

She buried her face in the dog’s neck and breathed deeply. “He smells like oranges.”

“The vet’s groomer bathed him.”

For his part, Doogie held perfectly still, just the very tip of his tail rapidly moving back and forth to indicate his pleasure.

“You gave him to me for Christmas.”

She wasn’t done, and Rob didn’t interrupt her. How close was she? “No. Not Christmas,” she corrected herself. “New Year’s. You gave me a box with a rubber toy and dog cookies in it on Christmas day.”

He knelt next to her and touched her shoulder. “Yes.” He felt hope blossom inside him.

“And a piece of newspaper…”

She closed her eyes. It looked like it almost hurt her to think that hard, but maybe the memory was there, teasing her, resisting her efforts to pry it out of hiding.

“The classified section. With a breeder’s ad circled in red ink.” She paused. “He wasn’t old enough to pick up on Christmas, and you wanted to make sure I wanted him. So on New Year’s Day, the litter was eight weeks old and you took me there and I picked him out.” She sat up in surprise. “He was the runt!”

He laughed. “You felt sorry for him getting stomped by his brothers and sisters.”

Doogie scooted closer to Laura and pushed his nose against her hand, wanting more attention. “He got into the bathroom garbage that first night,” Laura continued, “and I told him he was an oogie little doogie. And that’s how we named him.”

She cradled the Lab’s head in her hands and looked into his eyes. “And you tried to hump the Edwards’ poodle, you little gigolo! That’s when I knew I needed to get you snipped!”

* * *

With Doogie now settled, Rob let him off the leash and went to grab a uniform for the next day. While he was gone, Laura stroked the dog’s head. He was content to sit there staring into her eyes.

“I wish you could fix all of my memory.”

His tail continued swishing nonstop.

A few minutes later, Rob was ready to go. “I have your phone, if you want it.” He handed it to her. “The cops went through it to see if there were any clues.”

She stared at it. “Were there?”

He shook his head.

He helped her get back into his SUV, then loaded Doogie in the backseat before locking the house.

Back at her condo, she didn’t miss how Rob quickly swept through the rooms and checked the back door before returning to the living room.

“Checking?”

He grimly nodded. “I’m not taking any chances.” He grabbed his bag and started down the hall before he turned. “Are you okay with me sleeping in bed with you?”

His question filled her with a mix of emotions she couldn’t sort through. Mentally, cognitively, emotionally, she knew this man was someone she had a strong, loving, intimate relationship with.

On the other hand, he was also still a stranger to her, except for all the good feelings when she thought about him.

But few memories.

He seemed to read her indecision. “If you say no, I’ll sleep in the guest room. But I won’t leave you alone in the apartment.” He smiled. “Besides, Doogie missed his momma, and you aren’t in any shape to walk him.”

His playful, caring tone pulled at her. “You’re good at pushing my buttons aren’t you?”

His face transformed. For a moment, she thought he’d cry.

She hoped he didn’t.

“That’s what you always say.”

Laura reached out and touched his hand. “I think we can try it. If I’m not comfortable, we won’t do it again, for a little while at least. Okay?”

He nodded. “Deal.” He hesitated, then leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. She caught his spare hand and pulled him back in for another kiss, this one on the lips.

“Deal,” she said, giving him a smile.

* * *

Rob could tell Laura was tired and in pain, so he sent her and Doogie to go lie down on the couch while he fixed them dinner. He decided on macaroni and cheese with hot dogs. It was an easy and quick meal she usually preferred when she wasn’t feeling well.

He watched over the pass-through as she turned on the TV and channel surfed. After five minutes she settled on cartoons. He smiled as he observed from his vantage point in the kitchen.

Some things hadn’t changed. Laura was a kid at heart. Whenever she couldn’t find anything else she wanted to watch, Scooby-Doo or The Flintstones or any of her other favorite cartoons were a preferred choice.

Rob put a pot of water on for the macaroni and leaned against the kitchen counter.

It’ll just be a matter of time before she recalls other things.

Wouldn’t it?

He held on to that thought like a magic charm. The possibility of her never remembering terrified him. The neurologist already warned him her memory could come back in strange ways, if at all. And anything she did remember should be considered a blessing and not an indication of its importance in her mind before the attack.

He’d seen proof of that today. But Doogie? Steve, he could understand. She loved him like a father.

But the dog?

The water boiled and Rob threw in the pasta. The hot dogs only took a minute to nuke. Laura looked at the plate before taking it from him. “I like this?”

“You used to.”

Dubiously, she tried it, then smiled. “I still do.”

He laughed. “Yanking my chain again.”

“Gotta ring your bell—”

Rob froze, his fork halfway to his mouth, the hope nearly painful in his chest as his heart pounded. The look of concentration on her face bore silent testimony to the war going on inside her to retrieve the rest of the memory. He put his fork down and waited, hopeful.

Finally the frustration sent her into tears. “I’m sorry. There was something, but it’s gone.” She put her plate down and limped to her bedroom.

Doogie, torn between his upset mistress and a now-accessible plate of food, faced a moral battle known to dogs throughout history. He finally chose Laura and padded after her, casting one last longing look at the plate on the coffee table.

Rob’s appetite disappeared. It was frustrating how she seemed to pull other thoughts from the past, but couldn’t remember him or their relationship. Did it mean maybe she had second thoughts she never voiced before the attack? The neurologist’s words gave him little comfort.

Despite Shayla’s assurances that she’d been as crazy in love with him as he was with her, it still hurt.

He picked up the plates and carried them to the kitchen before going to her room.

The door was open, lights off. Laura had sprawled across the middle of her bed, Doogie lying next to her. She never used to let him get on the bed. Doogie didn’t seem inclined to remind her.

The Lab looked up and gave him a “please don’t tell her” look. Rob sat down and stroked the dog’s fur.

“Want to talk?”

Laura shook her head.

“Want some company?”

She paused, then shook her head. “Not right now. I’m sorry. I’ll be out in a little while.”

He fought the urge to ask her to change her mind. Before, she would hunt him down to talk, curling up in his lap, ready and willing to share whatever was on her mind.

“Okay.” He went back to the living room and channel surfed.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

She returned twenty minutes later, Doogie on her heels. He warmed up her dinner and sat with her while she ate. When she finished, he offered to take her plate for her, but she wanted to do it.

When she stood to walk to the kitchen, Doogie started to follow her but broke formation and trotted to the front door where he sat, looking from Laura to Rob.

“He needs to go out,” Rob said. “I’ll take him.” He grabbed the leash and closed the door behind him.

Laura stood in the living room, realizing how empty the apartment felt without them. She noticed the blinds were still open and moved to close them. Looking out the dark window accentuated how vulnerable she felt. She jumped when the phone rang.

Following the sound, she located the base unit for the cordless phone on the kitchen counter. She picked up the handset and fumbled it. “Hello?”

There was silence on the other end, then a click and the dial tone. The phone felt icy in her hand and she dropped it without thinking. Racing for the front door, she nearly collided with Rob as he came in.

He calmed her down enough for her to tell the story. She didn’t have a caller ID display on the older phone. Rob tried *69, but it came up an unavailable number.

He called Thomas to notify him of the hang-up call.