12 Seeing signs advertising the services of a James Peters, a real estate broker, Jim adopted James Peters as his own name. He had no past; his only reality was the present. 13 James Peters took a job in the P&P luncheonette. Jim made new friends. He never talked about his past, and his friends didn’t pry. 14 Bernadine Golashovsky, a waitress at P&P, recalls: “My father had died and Jim apparently had no family, so after he started at P&P we adopted each other. He became my father figure, and we – my husband, Pete, our four children and I — were his family. The children loved him.” 15 On Thanksgiving Day 1985, Jim visited the family and sat watching television with Pete. A scene appeared in which a mail carrier was making deliveries on a rainy day. Deep in thought, Jim said, “I think I used to be a postman.” 16 “Really? Where?” 17 “I don’t know.” 18 “New York?” 19 “I’m not sure. But I think I remember my parents a little.” 20 Jim spent every Christmas Eve with Bernadine and Pete. On this Christmas Eve he never arrived. Bernadine and Pete stayed up all night waiting for him. 21 On December 22, Jim had fallen and banged his head. The next day he had fallen again, striking his head. On December 24, he awoke feeling confused, yet elated. After almost 15 years, he knew who he was! He was James A. McDonnell, Jr., of Larchmont, New York. His wife’s name was Anne. Then, suddenly, he was scared: Is Anne alive? Has she remarried? If not, how will she greet me? 22 Anne had just returned home from Christmas Mass, and she was about to leave for Christmas dinner at her sister’s when the doorbell rang. Anne opened the door — and peered at a man. Immediately she recognized Jim. She couldn’t speak. 23 “Hello, Anne,” he said. 24 “Jim,” she gasped. “Is it true?” Her breathing came in bursts, as if she had been running. They were too stunned to fall into each other’s arms. The embraces and the tears would come later. 25 After 15 years, Jim McDonnell was home at last.