Wagering Home

by C. M. Boers

  I sighed. Great, one more thing I’d done that wasn’t “me.”

  “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” He reached across the car and rested his hand on top of mine, the way he had since the accident. Maybe he always did. I couldn’t say.

  He stopped the car in front of a park, and I thought back to when he visited me at the hospital. He’d said, the night of the accident, we were going to a park—our park.

  “Is this the park we were going to? You know, when . . .” I turned to face him.

  “Yeah.”

  Ducks flew overhead across the bright blue sky on this beautiful sunny Saturday.

  Jeremy rushed to the trunk. It took him a few minutes to finish what he was doing before he made his way around the car, pushing a wheelchair. My mouth dropped, and relief washed over me.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “Interning at the hospital has its perks.” A small smirk revealed a single dimple.

  I shook my head. “Well, I’m really glad.”

  He pushed me out by the lake and stopped. He laid out a blanket, then a bag appeared as he sprawled out.

  “You hungry?” He pulled sandwiches out of the bag, as well as jalapeno chips.

  “Yes. Starving.”

  “Your favorite,” he said when I eyed the bags.

  I wouldn’t know.

  He helped me down onto the ground.

  “You can lean on me if you want,” he offered.

  But I refused and adjusted myself so my leg was straight in front of me.

  I picked up a sandwich and shoved some chips inside it.

  Jeremy watched me. “Some things never change.”

  His words should have made me feel good, but I couldn’t even say why I’d done it, though it was good. Maybe some things were habits, even when you couldn’t remember why you’d ever started doing them.

  I watched the ducks out on the water, bobbing up and down, catching things below. The water looked so calm. If it weren’t for the ducks, there wouldn’t be a single ripple.

  “You ever wonder if this is where you’re supposed to be? Like, if you’d made different choices, would it eventually have led here anyway?”

  He slid his hand across his forehead, rubbing at the center. “Not really. I mean, I’ve got a great life. I’m going to college in the fall. I’ve got the internship at the hospital. And I’ve got you.”

  “A lot of good that does when I don’t even remember you.”

  He took my hand. “But you will. Until then, I love you, no matter what.” He kissed the back of my hand and gave it a light squeeze.

  His arm brushed against the scratchy cast, and his eyes roamed over it. “Did you see the doctor yesterday?”

  I nodded.

  “I was going to call . . . I hate you not having a phone. I always feel strange calling your house. What did they say?”

  I tapped the cast. “This puppy comes off in a week.”

  His face lit up. “Then I guess we’re celebrating!”

  He reached back into the bag and pulled out two lemon cakes with red drizzle.

  “Yum.” I grinned.

  He handed me a piece, and as our hands brushed, his face changed, serious and alluring. I didn’t have to remember anything about him to know what was on his mind.

  It happened in slow motion. My breath hitched in my throat as my heart raced. He moved closer and closer, his eyes slowly closing. At the last second, I turned, and his nose pressed into my cheek.

  I looked at my cast, unable to meet his eye. I was so embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He brushed his thumb across his lips. “No.” He paused. “No. I rushed you.”

  For a while, he focused on the water. I couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind.

  All I felt was pressure. Pressure to pick up where we’d left off. It wasn’t him; it was me. The fear of letting him down. This was why I’d wanted to leave the house. No expectations, but I should have known. As much as Jeremy was patient, he was still human, and to him life was moving on, not paused in a place where nothing could move forward or backward.

  I sighed. “I’m just not there yet.”

  Jeremy nodded. His face held no frustration he had every right to feel.

  Jeremy was easy to hang out with. He was prim and proper in all the ways I knew my parents would love. He was very much a catch. Though, I could tell, he was very much in his own head, like he was working through his own things.

  He traced his fingers over my nails.

  A breeze lifted the branches on the tallest trees, tussling them around, throwing spiraling leaves around the ground.

  “Should we go for a walk?”

  “If you’re pushing.”

  He helped me back into the wheelchair, cleaned up our picnic area, and started pushing me along the sidewalk.

  “Tell me about some of the things we’ve done here.”

  “There was the time I tried to teach you to fish –”

  “Tried? I take it that didn’t go well.”

  “Besides hooking my arm and accidentally throwing the pole in the lake? Uh, yeah, it went great.”

  I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Oh my gosh. That’s awful.”

  He stifled a laugh, and a deep rumble vibrated in his chest behind me.

  “There was the time we flew kites.”

  “Kites?” My eyebrows raised.

  “Yep. That one was your idea. It was windy all morning, so we went to the store and got some awesome ones. In fact, I think you still have yours.”

  I thought back. There was a kite hanging from the ceiling, in the corner of my room. It was a big blue-and-white checkered box kite.

  “Why do I get the feeling that didn’t go well either?”

  “Oh, it was great, and then the wind died. We couldn’t get the kites off the ground.”

  “Did we ever try again?”

  “Nope.”

  “We should.” I turned to look back at Jeremy, just to see his face. He wore a grin, and his eyes squinted against the sun. There seemed to be a relaxed sense to him, yet underneath it all seemed like he had something more on his mind.

  Probably worry, just like everyone else.

  He walked slow, taking his time with each step. We came around a bend to a niche in the trees.

  “Wait, roll me over there.” I pointed.

  You could just barely see the pond beyond the thick shrubs and trees. The sun peeped through the canopy of leaves overhead.

  “Can you see that?” I peered through the trees.

  “What?” Jeremy bent, his head turning back and forth, searching.

  “Come over here.” I motioned next to me.

  He came up beside me and knelt.

  “What do you see?” He squinted.

  I leaned over and kissed him right on the lips. Just a quick peck, like I was afraid of him. I stayed just in front of him, staring into his eyes. Slowly, he leaned in until his lips pressed against mine. His hand thrust into my hair at the back of my head, deepening the kiss. His touch and lips were both warm and inviting. When he pulled away, he looked into my eyes, his nose gently pressed against mine.

  “This is where you told me you loved me . . .” he whispered. He backed up and looked out at the water. “What made you change your mind?”

  In truth, part of me just wanted to kiss him, to feel what it was like, but another part of me just wanted the worry in his eyes to be gone.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.” He stepped behind me again, kissed the top of my head, and started walking.

  We finished our walk around the lake, and he drove me home. After he pulled into the driveway, he released his buckle and turned off the car.

  “Jeremy?”

  “Yeah.” He turned towards me, leaving the keys in the ignition.

  “Do you know what my parents do about my cell phone? Did I pay for the last one?”

  He looked at me with his brows f
urrowed.

  “I’ve been too shy to ask.” I fumbled with the hem of my shirt.

  “They’re your parents.” The concept of me being shy with them seemed to surprise him.

  “It doesn’t feel like it.” I looked down at my hands.

  “They buy all your stuff. Your car, too.”

  I nodded. Wait, I have a car?

  “Just ask them. I’m shocked you haven’t said anything yet. I think they’re just afraid to share you right now. They almost lost you. We almost lost you. It hasn’t been easy to take that in for me; I can’t imagine what they must be feeling.”

  I nodded. “I’ll ask.”

  “You do have your own money though . . .”

  “I do?”

  “Yeah. Your trust fund released when you turned eighteen. I don’t think you’ve touched it yet though.”

  A trust fund? It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, with the big house and fancy cars, or with the way my parents presented themselves.

  “You okay?”

  “Oh . . . uh. Yeah . . . fine.” I opened the door.

  Jeremy rushed out and grabbed my crutches. He stood in front of me, holding my arms as I balanced on my good leg.

  “I know you don’t remember, and I realize how hard that must be, to wake up and not know anyone. But you do know me, you’ve chosen me every day for over a year now. I love you. I want you to know you can tell me anything, so if you need to talk, I’m here.”

  “Okay.”

  I could tell that wasn’t what he was hoping for. The defeat in his eyes hurt, something I didn’t think was possible.

  He pulled me in for a hug, then backed up a little, his face hovering just in front of mine, waiting, giving me the power. I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes the way I liked and had only seen a handful of times I could recall. He stepped to the side, and I could feel him watching me make my way inside.

  Then his words hit me and I stopped. In the hospital, Jeremy told me it was almost a year; today, he said over.

  When was a year?

  My stomach dropped.

  I whirled around. “Jeremy, did I miss our anniversary?”

  His lips tightened, and he nodded.

  “I’m sorry. You should have told me.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. When you get your memory back, we’ll celebrate then.”

  I knew that wouldn’t make it up to him, but I nodded and went inside.

  My brain spun on overload. All this time, I’d been too afraid to ask about money or a phone outside of the landline, and I had a trust fund! I couldn’t believe it.

  I found my mom sitting in front of the bay window in the den.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” She closed her book and removed her glasses. “What’s on your mind?”

  “When can I get a new cell phone?” I asked, point blank.

  Her lips went tight. She stood, walked over to the desk, and opened the drawer. She pulled out a box, and something on top slid around as she walked.

  She placed it in my hands and sat back down. “We were able to transfer your things to the new one.”

  “Thanks.” I paused, staring at the phones; one new in the box, the other, smashed and broken, in my hand. “Why didn’t you give this to me sooner?”

  “You needed to rest. The phone is just a distraction.”

  “But isn’t that my decision to make?”

  She remained quiet and crossed her arms, defensive.

  “What if my friends are the ones who pull me out of this? What if that’s all I needed all along and you’ve been denying me it?”

  “You’ve never asked for it until now.”

  “Because I was too afraid to!”

  Her entire expression changed from defensive to concerned. “You were afraid to ask me for something?”

  “Yes . . . I don’t know you.” My whisper was a harsh change from yelling just seconds ago.

  “I’m your mother.”

  “I know you are, but you’re a stranger to me right now.”

  She fixed her gaze on the floor, unwilling to look me in the eye.

  I turned on my good heel and stormed out as fast as I could on crutches, going straight to my room.

  It wasn’t until later that night I even looked through the new phone. So many missed calls and texts. So many names and numbers, yet no faces came to mind.

  Feel better soon!

  Call me when you get out of the hospital!

  I’m so glad you’re okay.

  I may as well have been looking through someone else’s phone. Then there were some from Jeremy.

  I don’t know if you’ll get these, but I miss you.

  Happy Anniversary!

  And then the very last one, which pulled at my heart more than I thought anything could in this state.

  I hate that you’re suffering so much. I can’t wait until you come back to me.

  I knew he meant my mind, my memories. My eyes burned as tears threatened their way out.

  I closed the messages and tried to push them all from my mind. I scrolled through the pictures, and it seemed as though I had a very full social life. Swimming, vacations, hiking, biking, parties, and fancy events in ball gowns.

  I wished I could remember even one of them.

  The same girl with the scar was in almost all of them. I wished I knew her name. Then again, knowing Jeremy hadn’t brought anything back; bringing anyone else into this wouldn’t change a thing. One more person to feel disappointed.

  I ignored all the messages and missed calls, except Jeremy.

  Thanks for today . . .

  I dug through the box from the hospital. I’d unpacked nothing in the weeks since I’d been home. Instead, I’d just stashed it in the bottom of my closet.

  With the single piece of paper I’d been searching for in my hand, I looked back and forth, dialing Grace’s number.

  “Hello?” Her sassy voice burst through the speaker.

  “Grace, it’s me . . .” I paused. “Melanie.”

  “She lives!” She giggled to herself. “What’s up? You missed me, didn’t you?”

  “You got me.” I shook my head, unable to stop myself from smiling. She always had a way of making me smile right off the bat.

  “I knew it!”

  “How have you been?” I’d visited her a couple times before she got out of the hospital, but it just wasn’t the same with my mom tagging along. The last time I went, she’d already gotten out.

  “Fine, of course. Would you expect any less?”

  “Nope.” I smiled as if she were standing in front of me, then I felt silly.

  “You suffocating yet?” she asked.

  “Yeah, like you wouldn’t believe, but I’ve got my phone again, so that’s a start.”

  “I guess that still means zip on the memories.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “How’s that stud of yours?”

  “Good. He took me out today for the first time . . . you know, since I’ve been home.”

  “Oooh, how was that? Did you kiss him?”

  I could almost picture her sitting forward in her chair, her eyebrows arched and expectant.

  “Yes, and it was . . .”

  “Good?”

  “Yes, and weird.”

  “Oh.” She sounded dejected.

  “Yeah.”

  “You going to cut him loose?”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Before the accident, I was supposed to travel and compete with my horse, but now . . . obviously, that’s not going to happen.”

  “You going to go to college?”

  “Yuck, I don’t even want to think about that, but yeah, probably. Maybe to be a veterinarian.”

  “That’s sounds great.”

  “Eh, second best, I guess. What about
you?”

  “Ah . . . I guess I got into a university in Colorado . . . but the idea of going away to school without my memory just seems. . .”

  “Like a huge waste of time?” she chimed in for me.

  “Exactly. I mean, I could pick a major that I like now, and then I could get my memories back and want something completely different.”

  “What did your parents say you were going for?”

  “Business.”

  “Eh, boring.”

  “Yeah, I can’t understand what I would have wanted to go to business school for.”

  “Maybe it’s parental influence. Your dad looks like a suit.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But Colorado, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You should go anyway. The weather there is beautiful.”

  “And do what?”

  “I don’t know,” she bit back with sarcasm. “Take a few classes. Get away from your parents. You know, have a little freedom.”

  “That’s not such a bad idea.”

  “I don’t have bad ideas,” Grace said. “Think the parents will be willing to bankroll it?”

  I thought about my trust fund. Just how much did I have? Would it cover me moving out on my own?

  “They may not have to . . .”

  Once the idea was in my head, there was no turning back. Suddenly, all I could think about was finding my very own place . . . in Colorado. Away from prying eyes, questioning each and every move I made, like it was a symptom of a greater condition or maybe a sign I remembered something. I couldn’t handle that pressure.

  I searched my room from top to bottom for any information on my bank accounts, but it wasn’t until I looked through the history on my laptop that I found anything useful.

  What I found sprawled across three different banks would never leave my brain. The amount of zeros left circles spinning through my head. Nobody would ever know how much money I possessed. Except for Grace. I was sure, somehow, whether I liked it or not, she’d get it out of me.

  Since I got my phone back, Jeremy texted me often throughout the day. I’d really grown to like him. But no matter how much time I took to get to know him, it became more and more clear to me I could never catch up. The kind of affection he had for me took time, and until I got my memories back, I’d always be two steps behind. It wasn’t fair to him, but it didn’t make telling him any easier.

  I kept going over in my head what I’d say when the time came, but I kept worrying he wouldn’t accept it for what it was—the end.