She couldn't remember what it was like to make scrambled eggs. Surely she had, at some point, but the memory of perfecting a technique or a horribly failed attempt just wasn't there. It still struck her as so... odd and unsettling, the things she did and didn't remember. Fridges kept food cold. Cooking a meal with her family? (Or being told not to do so?) Nothing.

None of those town events came to mind, either. What sort of town had they lived in? Was it like this, a small place in the middle of nowhere? Was there history there, lots of traditions steeped in even more tradition, or was it a newer town that had never really found an identity? There were so many things she wanted to ask about the home she couldn't recall, but this wasn't the place for it.

His comments about talents that weren't yet appropriate to mention left her grinning, and it was exactly what she needed to keep her mind off all of the complicated mess that was suddenly her life. "Are you always this nice?"