The dawn of a new day and the sunlight piercing her eyes woke Nid. Fear returned momentarily, but then, as if her brain, which had been working all night, made her feel less refreshed. She yawned widely before getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom. 

The large white wardrobe was opened. Small fingers reached for a pair of plain blue shorts and a thin cream-colored t-shirt. She then walked to the living room. Beside the sofa, she found her father's smartphone and scrolled through his contacts until she found Ryan's number. Then she pressed the call button. 

He sleepily replied, “Hello.”

“Mr. Ryan, is it? This is Nid, Eric's daughter. I apologize for calling so early, but I need to speak with you. Something has happened.”

Ten minutes later, she had explained what had happened to her father. She knew Ryan; he was her father's right-hand man at the company. He was well-built, always smiling, and seemed like a kind family man. He had a wife and four children, according to her father. He was, as her father had said, essential to his business. She hoped he could manage everything until her father could return to work as usual. He assured her that everything would be alright, which greatly relieved her. 

“Thank you so much, Mr. Ryan.” Nid smiled. 

“You're welcome. Please take good care of your father, Nid.” The man on the other end spoke in a soft, deep voice before the conversation ended. 

Afterward, she searched through boxes stored in the storage room, pulled out a shoebox filled with photographs, and searched for old videos in several other boxes. Once satisfied, she carried the boxes to the kitchen and turned her attention to making a simple breakfast. 

Her father might not remember…but she would be the one to help him gradually regain his memories. Perhaps it would spark something, and perhaps it would help dispel the confusion and fear so evident in his eyes. 

Her father’s favorite breakfast was scrambled eggs with bacon - lots of crispy bacon - and toasted English muffins. She began preparing. 

The sunlight intensified. She gazed out at the backyard, seeing it with new eyes. What would he think of it all? Would he still enjoy gardening like he used to? Would he remember how to swim?  Or how to barbecue outdoors? 

Before she could dwell on the thought, having finished preparing breakfast, she headed to his bedroom. 

He lay on his side in bed, uncovered, one arm dangling down, wearing pajamas. He never wore pajamas. He always complained they were too constricting. His blond hair was disheveled. 

She approached and shook his shoulder, hoping he would wake up and be himself again. He didn't respond. She shook him harder and he stirred, opening his eyes to look at her. 

“Nid, is it?”

Relief washed over her. “You remember me?”

His pale gray eyes were hazy. “Just your name.”

Her brief moment of happiness faded. “I’ve made breakfast. It’s time to get up.”

He rolled out of bed and stretched. “That bed is uncomfortable,” he grumbled. 

As he followed the petite young woman down the hallway, she asked, “Aren’t you going to shower?” Eric always started his day with a shower. 

“Later,” he replied absently. 

As he walked, he looked at everything, the framed spring flower paintings in the hall, the furniture in the living room, and in the kitchen. While grabbing a muffin, he checked all the appliances, cabinets, and drawers before sitting at the counter. 

“I made you coffee,” she said, pointing to the coffee maker. 

He looked for a mug and poured himself some coffee.  Back at the counter, he took a sip. “Coffee. This is good.”

“Don't you take milk and sugar?”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t know.” He got up, went to the refrigerator, poured some milk into his mug, and took a sip. 

“Yuck!” He grimaced. 

“Try some sugar,” Nid suggested. 

“Did I drink it that way?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“How many spoons?”

“Two.”  Noticing him glancing around, she added, “On the cabinet.”  Nodding towards it. “No, the other one.”

He added two spoons of sugar, took a sip, and frowned. “Blech!”

“Just make a new cup,” Addison was amused by his reaction. And “Yuck?” He’d never used that word before. 

With a fresh cup of black coffee, he sat looking around. “Did your mother design the kitchen?”

“Mom decorated every room except the study and the kitchen. Those were your two rooms.”

“So that means you can cook?”

“I love to cook,” Nid chuckled. She told him as she scooped scrambled eggs onto a plate, adding bacon and an English muffin. She handed him the plate, wondering if he still liked eggs. 

“The doctor said I should help you remember, but he said to take it slow. After we eat, I have something to show you, if you want to see it.”

He looked at her and nodded. “Okay.”

Nichanart briefly considered calling the school to say she wouldn't be going, but then decided against it.  Her father didn't even know she was supposed to be back in school yet. 

After breakfast, we sat down on the sofa. Nid started showing her father photographs, explaining the background of each one. At first, he just listened and watched. Eventually, he started asking questions, beginning with a picture of him standing next to a race car. 

“I’m guessing I like driving. Am I any good?”

“Your trophies fill your study. You’re very good.”

“Do I still race?”

“No. Mom made you stop when I was born.”

Before she could show him another photograph, he asked softly, “Was Mom happy? Was I a good husband?”

The young girl choked up, feeling a lump in her throat. “Yes, Mom was always happy. You loved her very much.”

“How did my mother die?”

Nid didn't answer, falling silent for a moment. Her nostrils clogged, her eyes moistened. She had barely ever thought about this. It still pained her deeply. She could still vividly picture her mother lying in the hospital bed, her body frail and thin. Her mother had leukemia. She looked so weak, yet a loving smile never left her face. Those gentle eyes always held Nid with love. She could still feel her mother's embrace, the gentle stroking of her hair, and the soft whisper, “Mommy loves you. Mommy will always love you and be with you. Don't ever forget that. Take care of your father, and let him take care of you. Don't be sad if Mommy is gone.”

Nid desperately tried to block out the memories of her father, but to no avail. Tears welled up as she remembered sitting on the hard plastic chair outside her mother's room, watching him emerge. She knew instantly. She saw the grief in his eyes. Her mother was gone, and it was as if she had traveled to a place impossibly far away. She heard herself cry out, "No!"

“Is something wrong?” a voice rang out.

She wiped her tears and told her father, “Leukemia. Mom died of leukemia.” She didn’t elaborate. He wouldn’t remember. It was kinder this way. She picked up another photograph and tried to make her voice brighter. “This is you and Mom at graduation. You were such sweethearts.”

“You look beautiful. Dad looks like a nerd,” he said. 

Nid giggled softly. “Yes, Mom is very beautiful. Am I beautiful like Mom?”

He leaned back. “Beautiful, yes. Very beautiful and lovely.” He looked at her face and asked, “How old are you?”

“Fourteen last month.”

“How old is Dad?”

The young girl shrugged. “In his thirties.”

“What does Dad do?” he asked. 

“Dad owns a software company. I called Mr. Ryan and told him what happened to Dad. He said not to worry. He can handle everything for Dad.” As confusion appeared on his face, she continued, “He’s Dad’s best friend and can run the company for him. Dad told me.”

Eric nodded. “Okay.”

They talked throughout the day. Nid answered his questions as best she could, but sometimes she couldn’t. That night in bed, she realized that she had talked to her father longer today than she ever had in her life, and strangely, it felt good. She felt better, less worried. Still, there was something odd about him, beyond the memory loss, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. 

The second night, he stared at the dark bedroom ceiling, his mind too busy to sleep. Now he had images to think about. His wife. Our life. Daughter. He knew about other people's lives, distant from reality, not a part of him. Nothing he learned resonated. Nothing at all…

For him, it seemed like he lived an ordinary life, an ordinary father, an ordinary husband, with a relatively good family.  Looking at the house, this life was like reading a book, like reading a book he wasn't familiar with at all. 

What should he do?  Go back to work, do something he knew nothing about?  Raise a daughter he felt like he'd never known? 

But why couldn't he?  Eric was lost in thought. He had responsibilities, a daughter, employees, and a business to take care of. 

His thoughts drifted to his daughter. Even though he didn't feel like her father, she was his daughter. How difficult must it be for her, having a father with amnesia…

How did he treat her before?  Was he too strict and demanding?  Was he a good father?  He kept thinking. 

The young man stared at the dark ceiling, searching for answers but finding none. No plan, no goal, like drifting on a raft in the middle of the ocean, not knowing where he was going. 

The only thing he knew right now was that talking to Nid today had relieved a lot of stress. He liked her. Talking helped a lot in terms of getting to know each other. The fear was still there, but both he and she had managed to suppress it somewhat. 

Maybe that's what he should do. Focus on the only daughter he had. Learn everything about her. Reintroduce himself to his daughter. Maybe focusing on her would help him gain more emotional stability…