Forget to Remember

told her they were glad to do it.
    “I’ll pay you back.” Tears came to her eyes. “I…I wonder if my parents are as nice as you two. I hope they are. If it weren’t for you and Rigo, I’d be sleeping at the mission and wondering what I was going to do next.”
    Tina reached over and patted her shoulder. Carol blew her nose into a paper napkin and tried to recover her composure. “Now I’ll clear the table and wash the dishes.”
    “Ernie will show you how to run the dishwasher. He’s the expert.”
    “Rigo’s the expert.” Ernie made a face. “But now we hope, after all the money we spent on his education, he’ll become expert in something other than washing dishes.”

    CHAPTER 5
    Rigo navigated into Orange County using a combination of Pacific Coast Highway, other surface streets, and the 405 freeway. Today was Sunday, a week since he found Carol during the brunch shift. He was working the evening shift today instead of brunch, so they could take this excursion.
    Carol followed their progress on AAA maps, insisting she wanted to be able to find her way around as soon as possible. “I’m starting from scratch here. My mind is blank. I’ve got a lot to learn in a short time. However, I think part of my problem with the local geography is that I’ve never lived here.”
    Her mind wasn’t really blank. She had a well-developed sense of style, judging from the clothes she picked out with Tina’s help yesterday. Even Rigo, a mere man as his sisters liked to say, could see that. She knew how to use a computer, and she made them a delicious omelet for breakfast. She remembered a lot of things. What she had forgotten was information that identified her as a person. Unfortunately, as Rigo was coming to realize, without this information, she wouldn’t be treated like a real person.
    “I’m sorry I don’t have a GPS on this old car. My parents have them on theirs.”
    “It’s better that I learn my way around without a GPS. All a GPS tells you is to turn right or turn left. You don’t get a feel for where you are in relation to other places. Besides, I hate that snotty voice that says ‘recalculating’ whenever you have the nerve to do something other than exactly what it demands.”
    Rigo laughed. She had obviously used a GPS before. He exited the 405 and headed a short distance into a housing tract. Northwestern Orange County was mostly flat, with wide main streets heading north-south and east-west, making it easy to navigate. The oranges and cows had been gone for almost fifty years. He pulled up in front of a one-story house that had been there for a while. A lone palm tree grew in the front yard, and a car almost as old as Rigo’s sat in the driveway.
    “This is where Frances lives.”
    They walked up the short driveway, and Rigo rang the doorbell. The woman who answered was small, with curly hair, rimless glasses, and inquisitive eyes. She gave Rigo a hug and then turned to Carol and shook her hand.
    “Come in, come in.” She stepped back into the small living room and looked Carol up and down. “You don’t fit the picture of a lost soul, especially with your new clothes. From what I heard, your wounds seem to be healing nicely, too.”
    Rigo had mentally noted the same thing about her wounds earlier that morning. In addition, her short skirt and v-neck T-shirt-like top weren’t that much different than many young women wore, but Carol wore them better. The beret she wore to cover her bald spots looked sporty. Makeup almost covered the marks on her face.
    Carol smiled at the compliment. “Tina bought them for me. She and Ernie have been so wonderful—and Rigo, too.”
    “Yes, I can see why Rigo would take an interest in you.” Frances gave Rigo an amused look. “Not trying to belittle what you did for Carol.” Back at her. “I’ve known Rigo since he was a pup, so I’m allowed to kid him. I’ve been friends with his parents forever. Come into the back room. It’s more comfortable. I’ll get us some iced tea.”
    The back room had sofas you could sink into and a large coffee table to work on. Frances’ laptop computer sat there. She brought in a pitcher of iced tea and glasses.
    Carol was obviously fascinated with her. “I understand you’re a forensic genealogist. I’ve never heard of that before—as far as I can remember.” She made a face when she said “remember.”
    “It’s a fancy way of saying I help find who was who, and who did what and