Futile in my attempt to learn anything knew, I backed out and had to remember how to snake my way out to the gate.
A few kids played with a ball on the quiet street leading away from Harley’s home, but apart from that, the place appeared deserted.
Upon reaching the gate, I noticed rows of mailboxes on a brick wall which also acted as part of the estate’s front entrance. An idea popped into my head as I veered off the street onto the grassy verge.
At least the mailboxes were in order, unlike the condos. Finding number twenty-five proved easy. It overflowed with junk and letters, so I pulled as many as I could out, knowing I’d left some behind that were locked inside.
With my stash in the car, I drove home, hoping when I arrived Harley had returned.
***
The apartment echoed with emptiness, which had me worrying. Should I have gone searching for him? Could he find his way home? Well, to my home. Not his.
Deciding to wait the afternoon out, I put a pot of coffee on and set his mail on the kitchen counter, pondering over whether I should take a peek or not.
I wasn’t snoopy by nature, but the white envelopes bundled together were calling to me.
Huffing out a breath, I walked down the hall and pulled my nurse’s uniform from the clean laundry pile and began ironing it to give me something to do besides think of a tall, sinful, mysterious male. The husband of Trudy. Ugh. While I didn’t want to be the other woman, technically while he lived under my roof, I played that role. She seemed to take the news about Harley better than I would have in her situation. She still cared about him. If he regained his memory, would he still care for her, or had too much water passed under the bridge?
Hanging up my uniform in the closet so it wouldn’t be creased for the morning, I moved back to the kitchen to make my coffee. My stomach rumbled, but I wasn’t hungry now that I’d had time to digest everything that had gone down this morning.
Would Harley come back or would everything prove too much for him? Where would he go, though? With his wife?
Sipping my too hot coffee, feeling the burn but not really registering it, I eyed the mail still sitting in a pile, begging to be looked through.
Rising, I shuffled to the counter and picked up the letters, leaving the junk mail, and returned to my seat.
Declan Peterson. It ran strangely over my tongue like tasting a foreign food for the first time. Seeing it printed in bold type brought home the real fact that he wasn’t Harley. He never would be. He wasn’t even Declan Peterson. It was simply an alias.
Turning over the first envelope, I searched for the company that sent it but couldn’t find any return sender. Bold black type on the front spelled out the address I’d visited earlier.
The next was from Bank of America. Good to know. If Trudy came through with ID, he’d surely be able to access his bank account.
The next two had only Harley’s name and address on them and the last one had a P.O. Box typed at the top of the envelope but no business name.
Not much help at all. Throwing them on the table, I suddenly remembered Charlie’s number I’d keyed into my cell.
Fetching it out of my bag, I found his number and dialed, not really knowing what I would say, but doing it before I could chicken out. It rang and rang and went to voice mail. A deep, well-spoken drawl gave the verse that he couldn’t take the call, so I left a rather nervous message about me being a friend of Declan Peterson. I’d almost said Harley, but had changed it at the last moment.
Hoping the guy would eventually return my call, I felt I’d done everything I could.
The only thing to do now was wait.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Harley
Fifteen minutes later an azure blue, late model sedan pulled up with a Nissan badge on the front. Whatever Trudy did for a career must have her living comfortably. Stopping in front of me, she opened her door and appeared over the roof with one leg still in the car.
“Hey…er…Harley. Sorry it took a while. Traffic’s a nightmare.” With her eyes she motioned for me to get in.
Grateful for her appearance, I smiled and walked around to the passenger side and climbed in.
“I appreciate you coming to get me. I didn’t have anyone else to call.”
Raising her right brow slightly she slanted me a look. “Mac not give you her cell number?”
I didn’t have it hardwired into my brain. There had been no need to call her since being released from hospital. And besides, we’d been together the whole time. “If I had my cell, I would have keyed in her number, but I don’t have a thing. Even the clothes on my back are borrowed.”
Frowning, she turned to face the front, peering out the windscreen. “It must be tough for you. Waking up a stranger, even to yourself. Did the doctors say when you’d get your full memory back?”
The hitch in her voice didn’t go unnoticed, and I quickly grasped the hidden meaning in her question. Would I remember our life together? Would I want to pick up where we’d left things?
The truth of it was, I didn’t know anymore. Everything had changed. Perhaps, I’d changed. Mac had manifested out of thin air into my life, and if things went back to normal, where would it leave my feelings for her?
Buckling my belt, I replied. “They couldn’t be certain. I may regain it all, or I may have pieces I never remember.”
Nodding, she rolled us away from the curb and into bustling traffic.
“Where to? Did you want to stop by your apartment? You obviously won’t have a key, but maybe it will spark something in your mind.”
My apartment. Rolling it around my head a few times, I sought an image of what it looked like but I came up blank. Maybe I should listen to Trudy. Seeing it again might trigger something. So far, I had nothing that I’d owned previously. Everything had been borrowed. To know I owned the apartment brought a small amount of comfort.
“Sure.”
I didn’t know what else to say. My wife sat beside me, a stranger, so even trivial conversation eluded me. She remained quiet too, perhaps knowing I wouldn’t be able to answer most questions or relate to anything we used to share. Awkward tension filled the small space. I felt like she needed me to say something but I wasn’t sure what.
Making our way through the center of town again and seeing the circus tent, thoughts turned to Mac again. I needed to ask something.
“Uh, is Mac okay? Did she go home?”
Keeping my eyes focused straight ahead, I could see out of my peripheral vision when Trudy turned to look at me for a brief moment.
Taking in a deep breath, she said, “She’s as confused as I am. Concerned about you and wanting answers. I’m not sure where she went.” Her voice sounded off as she finished the last sentence and I wondered what she thought of my relationship with Mac.
“She seems like a nice girl.” Trudy made Angel seem like a teenager. She certainly wasn’t one. But then, my ex-wife didn’t know Mac like I did, and even though we were only separated by age a few years, Trudy make it sound like I had snatched from the cradle.
Still, it must be hard for her. If the situation were reversed, I doubt I’d be handling it as well.
“She is. She helped me immensely when I woke with no memory.” What more could I say? That I had feelings for my nurse? Somehow, I doubted those words would go down well.
“So…are you two, you know…dating?” We turned off the main road and into a quieter area. I should have been paying attention to where we were going, but my mind became occupied with all things Mac.
“No. She helped me out and I’ve been helping her out by staying. Her boyfriend took off and then we came home to her apartment, completely trashed. I think she feels safer with me there.” Trudy didn’t need to know we’d groped each other before coming to our senses. She didn’t need to know how Mac anchored me. Someone I clung to in my suspended reality. Someone I had gotten to know as Harley and not Declan.
As I glanced sideways, I caught Trudy’s should
ers relaxing slightly at my answer.
Slowing down, I focused out her window as we turned into a set of condominiums.
“This where I lived?”
“Yeah. You recognize it?”
“Not yet.” I blew out a frustrated breath. How could I not even remember where I’d lived for Christ’s sake? Nothing about the place sparked familiarity.
Trudy turned into a driveway. A large number twenty five positioned itself on the front door.
I sat and stared at my home, wondering what I lived like. My furnishings and personal items. Clothing. What food remained in my refrigerator? Stupid trivial things I wanted to know.
Feeling a hand on my arm, she asked quietly, “You okay?”
Nodding, I pulled away, exiting her car and striding to the front door. Of course it remained locked up, but that didn’t stop me from trying the handle. A small window at the left hand side had a blind drawn, so I couldn’t see in. The notion I’d absent-mindedly left a window unlocked sounded crazy, but I had to try. Inside sat my life. Answers. Hopefully even some cash I could use. Ignoring Trudy, who remained in the car with the engine running, obviously not planning on me being more than a couple of minutes, I gave the garage door a shake, but it didn’t budge.
There had to be a way out back. I crept closer to finding out some truths and yet, I couldn’t find a way into my own damn home. Did I need to smash a window?
Identical condos butted against mine on either side with no gates in between. Jesus. Gripping my neck hard, I spun back around and found Trudy with her door open, engine off. She eyed me as if I might detonate like a bomb. One truth remained firmly. She knew the real me, even when I didn’t.
“Is there an onsite manger?” I asked, grabbing at straws. Someone had to have a master key, surely.
“Ah, no, Dec. I’m, pretty sure you bought the place. Only you have a key.”
Hearing my alter ego this time snapped something inside of me. Moving closer to her, I slammed my hand down on the roof of her car. “It’s Harley! I’ve told you not to call me Dec or Declan! I don’t know that guy! He means nothing to me! I can’t be someone I’m not. I may never be him. Ever.”
She appeared shell-shocked and shrank back into the car. Her lip quivered, softening me only a little as I turned and began pacing. I needed Mac. I needed to hear her voice. Her song. Anything. She calmed me when I felt like drowning.
“Take me to Mac’s,” I demanded, stalking to the passenger side and getting in.
Without a sound, Trudy turned the key and reversed before driving off.
“Do you know how to get there?” She spoke so quietly, I had to strain to hear it properly.
“I know my way back from the circus tent. Return there and I think I’ll be able to find her place.”
I suddenly felt shitty for taking my anger out on Trudy. She didn’t ask for any of this. She’d been caught up in the middle of it without a choice.
“I’m sorry for getting annoyed with you. I guess everything is finally taking its toll. I just need some time to process it.”
“I know. You have my number…if you need to ask anything or talk.” I could have sworn she sniffled on the verge of tears, so I didn’t add to the conversation.
Upon reaching the circus tent, familiarity began to wash over me. “Turn left up ahead.” I signaled, glad I’d taken notice of the drive into town from Macs.
The clock on the dash read three p.m. The time had zipped by. I hadn’t eaten lunch and needed food. Directing Trudy to Mac’s apartment, I twisted in my seat as we stopped. “Thank you. I mean it. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t given me your number. I realize how hard this must be for you, and I’m sorry.” I meant every word.
She smiled for the first time in a while. “Glad I could help. Take care, Harley.”
Returning her smile, glad she hadn’t called me Dec, I got out and moved toward Mac’s front door, wondering what reception I would be met with.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mac
A car rolled into my short driveway at the front of the single car garage, not idling for long before disappearing.
Instinct told me Harley had come home, but I couldn’t be sure until he opened the door and confirmed my suspicions. I sat on the sofa, reading a novel I’d had on the to be read pile on my Kindle for months. I’d perused the same paragraph about thirty times, seeing the words but not absorbing them.
Harley had taken up way too much of my mind space. Not only did I worry about him, I had changed my mind a few times about whether I should let him keep staying with me or not. The quandary had me all kinds of knotted up.
He gingerly stepped through the door, eyes fixed on me, not quite a smile on his face. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Placing my Kindle on the coffee table, I asked, knowing full well the answer to the question but wanting him to confirm it, “Did you find your way home okay?”
“Trudy gave me a lift.”
Bingo. “Oh. Well, where did you go after you left the park?”
He moved slowly forward. Tentatively. Still watching me. His eyes were black marbles.
“I needed to clear my head. I took a walk.”
“And you ran into Trudy again?” Did the tone of my voice sound slightly jealous?
“No. I…uh…kind of got lost.”
“So you called her.” Okay, that tone sounded a lot like jealousy.
“I didn’t have your number. She gave me her card.”
He came close enough to touch. From this height, I was eye level with his sturdy thighs. If I raised my sights a little higher…
No. Focus, Mac. Trudy, remember?
The sensible side of my brain took over. The side that quickly analyzed situations at work in the blink of an eye and acted accordingly.
On a full inhale, I let my breath out and began. “Harley. Dec. Whatever your name is. You’d better sit.” I motioned beside me without catching his expression. If I found his emotive eyes, I’d cave and throw myself at him rather than do the right thing. Sometimes it sucked to have a conscience.
Cautiously he sat, his leg an inch from mine. His mere presence fluttered my stomach and chest.
“Mac…”
“No, let me say what I have to. Please.”
When he made no effort to proceed, I swallowed my urge to reach out to him and filled the silence. “I’ve been doing some thinking of my own while you’ve been out. I know you don’t remember much about life with Trudy, but I think the best thing for you to do would be to forget about me and focus on her. Your wife. See if it triggers your memory. She’s the only link to your past. Over time, it’s bound to help you remember. As long as you’re with me, I don’t think it’s going to happen. You have your own apartment now.”
My face remained as stoic as I could make it, even though my heart bled. I could hear him breathing beside me.
I heard one of his knuckles crack. “What if I don’t want to remember? What if I don’t want that life? What if I want to pursue whatever this thing is between us?”
A large hand moved to caress the back of my head, pulling my hair away from my neck.
Contact had me shivering and unable to form a sentence, but I couldn’t let his physical effect on me deter me from doing the right thing.
“I know you think you feel something for me, but I’m sure it’s a case of gratitude. You’re grateful for me being the only one there. For helping you.” Finally I gained the courage to turn my head and raise my eyes north and gaze into his. Pain and sadness etched into the lines on his brow and the reflection in his gaze.
His hand moved around to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing over my lips. “You think this is gratitude?”
Using all my strength, I ignored the sensation the pad of his thumb elicited on my mouth. “Your emotions are all over the place right now. Nothing is as it seems. I don’t know the real you.”
His eyes squinted half shut. “Are you serious? Angel, you may not know the life I lived, but
me being here with you and touching you is the real me. What I feel when you’re near is not fake. Don’t you get that?”
The beginnings of a tear formed in the corner of my eye, but I held it at bay. I’d longed to hear that his feelings were real, and yet at the same time, it confused me.
For the first time in my life, a man I truly felt I could fall hard for told me what I wanted to hear. What I hoped to hear. A man who would treat me like a queen if I let him. But I needed to be selfless and give him the space and time to piece together his shattered life. My being in the middle would only hinder that. We’d spent so much time together since he awoke, there hadn’t been any true separation to allow for objectivity.
Placing my hand over his, I gently drew his fingers away, swallowing hard. “Look. I’ll be honest when I say there is definitely an attraction there on my behalf, and you seem sincere when you say you feel it too, but what sort of a person would I be if I didn’t take a step back and give you time to amass what you once had? You have a mother and friends who will want to see you. A wife who you were working things out with. I don’t think I could sleep at night knowing I took you away from all that.”
His jaw hardened and the light began fading from his eyes. “So you really do want me to move out? What about the danger you could be in? I’m not leaving here until you get a damn security alarm installed.” His voice rose. I didn’t want an argument.
“Fine. While I’m at work tomorrow, call someone and have them come out and take a look. I’ll do a search later and write down a couple of numbers.”
The tension I’d felt rolling off him at the park this morning resumed. Knowing I played a small part, I attempted to appease him.
The Lost and Found Series Page 14
