Anyone but Him

by Theresa Linden

  “A good sign?” His lips parted. Then a smile. “Why, yes, it is a very good sign. But I did tell you, you might get things messed up in your mind. You might mix up people and places without realizing it.”

  I nodded, an image of Jarret in his sunglasses flashing in my mind.

  “So what other memories? Any that seem recent? Any that may’ve occurred that Friday—”

  “Well...” Hesitant to answer, I fiddled with my rings. Would it do any good to tell him?

  “How is she?”

  I exhaled, relieved to hear Jarret’s voice. First time for that.

  He leaned a shoulder against the bedroom doorframe, his dark locks dripping on a white bathrobe tied at the waist but open at the chest.

  Mike twisted around to face him. “Jarret. That was a right quick shower. She seems fine. She was just saying she got a few memories back.” He threw me an encouraging smile and waved his brows.

  “Oh, really?” Jarret stepped into the room, a seed of hope in his expression. “A few? You mean besides the mess on the kitchen floor?”

  I nodded.

  “What of?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s sort of confusing.” I bit my lip, not sure how much to reveal. “Mike said I might get things messed up as I remember them.”

  “Well, what do you remember?” Jarret drew near and gripped the back of the couch, the seed of hope germinating. “Was I there? I’ll tell you if it’s messed up.”

  “I don’t know. It was very vague.” I slid to the edge of the chair, unease creeping through my veins. “Should I make dinner?” I didn’t want to cook, but I had to get out of answering. I didn’t want to tell either one of them about the man I’d run from. Which one made me more nervous, Mike or Jarret?

  “I’ll take care of dinner.” Jarret moved closer and crouched by the chair, peering into my eyes. “What d’ya remember?”

  Mike, sitting on the coffee table, leaned in again.

  “I um...” A bead of sweat crawled between my shoulder blades. I shook my head, trying to think of how to avoid saying more. “I remember... Well, it wasn’t much of a memory. It was just, well—”

  A truck pulled up the driveway. All heads turned, and I exhaled and slumped back.

  Jarret shot to the door and peered outside. “What’s he doing here?” His irritated tone made me guess it was Roland. He yanked open the door and stomped outside in his bathrobe and bare feet.

  Mike straightened and approached the screen door. “That must be Jarret’s younger brother. He’s awfully pale. Lives in South Dakota, you say?”

  “Yes.” I joined Mike at the door. Jarret didn’t let Roland any closer to the house than the front bumper of the truck.

  Please, Jarret, let him visit. I tried to send a telepathic message.

  “Not today,” Jarret said to Roland.

  “When? I’m here to help her, here in North Carolina instead of being in school. You need to let me—”

  Cold and unyielding, Jarret folded his arms over his chest. “Go back to school. That’d probably help her more.”

  Roland shook his head, then he peered past Jarret to the door. He looked directly at me, staring while Jarret mumbled something to him.

  “Who’s that?” Roland said, giving a nod.

  Jarret glanced over his shoulder. “Mike. He’s a friend of mine. See ya later.”

  My spirits sank. Jarret was sending Roland away. Again.

  CHAPTER 30

  THE FIRST STREAKS of dawn appeared in the sky, and sunlight stole through the slit between the bedroom curtains. I woke with a stirring in my soul, a bud of joy that seemed out of place in my current situation. Perhaps God wanted to remind me that He was there and still in control of everything. I turned my heart to Him in a prayer of trust and asked Him to make a way for me and to open my eyes to His will. Hadn’t I read something like that in the Bible? Or was it the lyrics of a song?

  I slid out of bed and drew the curtains back. The scent of lilacs lingered on the cool, damp air. Inhaling deeply, I imagined myself back home, enjoying the fragrance of the Chinese Wisteria that grew outside my bedroom window. A few birds called back and forth. One sounded close, so I tried to spot it in the nearby trees.

  Gazing at the cornflower blue sky, I took another deep breath. The early hour made me feel like the only soul awake in the neighborhood, the only soul awake in the house.

  I turned my head to catch any noises in the house. Nothing.

  Maybe Jarret was still sleeping. He looked exhausted yesterday, and Mike had stayed late last night. Jarret, not wanting to grill anything for dinner, had ordered Chinese and made Mike pick it up. The two of them talked work all through dinner, though Jarret seemed distracted. He kept casting long looks at me, probably wanting to know about the memories or wondering how mad it made me when he sent Roland away. It reminded me of what I’d read in the emails. He’d spent days trying to “read my mind” before finally asking what happened the night he came home drunk.

  After dinner, my thoughts returned to Dad and to the ache in my heart, so I retired to my sanctuary. Treasured childhood memories filled my mind and after an hour or so I’d cried myself to sleep.

  Stretching and deciding to make an early start of the day, I went to the closet. I flipped through “my” dresses, skirts, and shirts, but— No, I wanted to wear something different, something that would reflect my hope that everything would turn out all right. So, I rummaged through the clothes that I didn’t remember but liked anyway. The yellow and pastel clothes didn’t fit my mood but neither did the dark colors. A dress with tiny floral print in lavender, purple, and white caught my eye. It had a skirt of loose ruffles, a slim waist, and short frilly sleeves. As I pulled the dress off the hanger, a feeling of warmth and joy passed through me. It was such a pretty dress. I couldn’t wait to try it on.

  I washed up, dressed, and gazed at myself in the mirror. The lavender brought out the green in my eyes, and the ruffles complimented my wild red hair. I didn’t look half bad when I stopped frowning. In fact, I felt pretty. I smiled at myself and then breezed from the room.

  Jarret lay on the couch, both legs hanging off as if he’d fallen asleep sitting up and tipped over. My gaze drifted to the scratches on his arm, then to the key chain hanging from the pocket of his jeans. With a little tug, I could have them out and he’d never notice.

  I shook my head at the silly thought. He’d probably wake the instant I touched the keys. I’d feel guilty. And maybe he wouldn’t let me go this time.

  Proceeding to the kitchen, my stomach growled, reminding me I was eating for two. I opened the pantry and scanned the cereal boxes.

  A glance over my shoulder told me Jarret was still sleeping. Hadn’t moved a muscle. He’d been keeping such a close eye on me, always up before me, staying up late, waking at the slightest sound all hours of the night. Maybe he wouldn’t wake the instant I touched the keys.

  Determination rushing into my veins, I grabbed a box of granola bars, closed the pantry, and turned around. Until I regained my memories or discovered by some other way the kind of man Jarret was, I would be better off living back home, surrounded by people I trusted and could remember. He’d said my mom didn’t like him. I should find out why. He’d said my mom didn’t like my career. Hmm. Oh well, I was having a baby. Forget the career for now. I needed to go.

  Should I leave him a note? I took the notepad by the phone and wrote: I’ll call you soon. Please don’t be mad. Caitlyn. I could stop by Roland’s hotel and have him call Jarret to help him understand.

  I ripped the page from the notepad and turned, catching sight of the lilacs Jarret had arranged in a vase on the table. I lifted one out and brought it to my nose. It had lost none of its sweet fragrance. I tiptoed to the bedroom, found the money I’d taken from Jarret days ago, grabbed a purse big enough to hold the box of granola bars, slid my feet into tan sandals, and crept to the living room.

  Jarret hadn’t moved. His breaths came deep and long, drawing my eye
to his half-unbuttoned shirt and the dark hairs down the middle of his chest. My fingers burned as I inched them toward the keys. Taking a breath, I slipped the keys from his pocket and set the flower and note on his chest. Goodbye, husband.

  Careful to avoid stumbling on anything, I tiptoed to the front door. With a guess as to which key would fit, I separated one from the others. Based on experience, I expected the last key I tried to be the one. But the first one slipped in easily as if this was meant to be.

  I twisted the knob, pulled the door open, and pushed the screen, making barely a sound. My pulse thumped in my ears, but Jarret hadn’t moved. Stepping outside, I closed both doors gently. Then I dashed for my dark-blue Honda Accord.

  As I pulled the car door shut, something moved on the porch.

  I slid the key into the ignition. The front door opened, and I froze.

  The screen door flew open and Jarret stumbled out of the house barefooted. His hair hung loose around his shoulders and his half-buttoned shirt had come un-tucked from his jeans. Nearing the porch steps, he slid to a stop as if a forcefield kept him from going further.

  I gripped the key, ready to crank the engine to life, but... Maybe he didn’t run after me because he knew it wouldn’t start. Maybe he’d done something to the car.

  I cranked. The engine hummed and I breathed.

  His mouth fell open but he didn’t move; he only stared.

  We locked gazes for a second, then I threw the gearshift in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Agony radiating from him, he looked heavenward, grabbed the hair on the top of his head, and dropped his head to his chest.

  Cranking the steering wheel, turning the car, I backed onto the street. “Sorry, Jarret,” I whispered, a pang stabbing my chest.

  Jarret staggered to one side, lifted a hand as if to steady himself, and latched onto a post on the porch. Then he leaned, or more like fell, against it.

  Clear of the driveway, I shifted into drive and rolled down our little street. He didn’t follow. He just watched. At the end of the street, I peered in the rearview mirror at him standing still as a statue.

  He didn’t run after me. Had he given up? Then I remembered what he’d said. If you love something, let it go. I hadn’t thought he meant it.

  I glanced both ways, finding the cross street clear, but I couldn’t get myself to step on the gas. Why should it bother me that he just stood there? I exhaled through my mouth, blowing the curls on my forehead. “Well, what do you think, baby?” I touched my belly. “He’s your father. Should we?”

  On impulse, I threw the car in reverse.

  Jarret pushed off the post and straightened, arms dangling at his side.

  I backed up past the driveway and swung the car into it.

  His lips parted with a look of total shock.

  I motioned him over, directing him to the passenger side.

  A moment’s hesitation, then he jumped off the porch and jogged to the car. With the press of a button, I unlocked his door and he climbed in without looking at me. Then he stared out the front window like a kid trying to hide his excitement when his dad let him come along for a ride.

  Touched by the sweetness of it, I smiled to myself and backed out of the drive. At the end of our street, I turned right, the direction I had planned to take.

  Now where would I go? What was I doing? I had my chance to head for home and surround myself with people I loved and trusted. Hadn’t I prayed for this opportunity? And here God had given it to me. What was I doing?

  A few miles down the road, highway signs became visible.

  “Which way should I go?” I said.

  He finally turned to me with a shy look that didn’t fit the Jarret I knew. “Where do you want to go?”

  I hadn’t the heart to tell him I’d wanted to see Roland at his hotel, then head home to South Dakota. Those plans fizzled the instant I’d thrown the car in reverse. But I still wanted to go somewhere, somewhere I could think and relax, somewhere I could feel free. “I don’t know. Where do you want to go?”

  He shrugged. “Think I should’ve grabbed some shoes?” He lifted one of his bare feet.

  I giggled, at first, but ended up laughing aloud. “I’ll go back if you want,” I said, gaining control. “Or we can go someplace where you don’t need shoes?”

  “Wanna go to the beach?”

  I smiled in answer.

  He smiled back, sending a spark to my heart. His expression showed no trace of the arrogant and domineering traits I’d come to associate with him. And his eyes, a dark cola brown, communicated something else that didn’t fit my impression of him. I saw in them hope, vulnerability, and fear, the look of one given a second chance.

  As I eased onto the highway, Jarret lowered his window, reclined his seat, and laid his head back. His long, dark curls whipped about his face like the mane of a running stallion.

  I had never considered him handsome before. Maybe his attitude had blinded me. But I couldn’t take my eyes off him now. I saw him as if for the first time. Even with his unshaven jaw, he looked handsome and dignified. His narrow nose, high cheekbones, and the arch of his brows reminded me of a Spanish nobleman from years past, like the ones in paintings I had seen in an art museum. His looks appealed to me more than I cared to admit.

  Driving east, the sun blinded me as morning dawned. In the first hour, blue and yellow clouds and streaks of gold and pink colored the sky. I soaked up the beauty, resting in the unspoken prayer of my heart.

  Every now and then, Jarret turned his head or repositioned his arms, but otherwise he rested heavy. For whatever reason, it made me glad to see him rest. And for a moment, I distanced myself from the situation and felt sorry for what his wife had been putting him through.

  The two-hour drive passed peacefully, the wind increasing as we neared the ocean, the air growing thick and salty as teardrops. Anticipation grew, stirring inside me. The ocean! Having no memory of visiting the ocean before, I couldn’t wait to see it. We were almost there.

  A moment before I needed to decide which exit to take, Jarret lifted his head. He directed me, as if he had gone this way many times before, down to a particular beach. I parked in a small empty lot and leaped from the car.

  A boardwalk separated the parking lot from a long stretch of sand and... the ocean! So beautiful, like an artist’s watercolor painting with blended stripes of deep blue and aqua, splashes of white where foam bubbled up, and dots of gold from the sunlight. A group of seagulls glided overhead, uttering their mournful cry.

  I inhaled a deep breath of salty air and smiled. I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Jarret walked around the car to me, his eyes on my chest. “What made you wear that dress?”

  I looked at it. The skirt danced about my legs in the wind. “You don’t like it?”

  “No, I—I love it. I picked that one out. It’s my favorite.”

  “Oh.” My heart leaped, sending tingles through my body. Did that explain the sentimental feeling when I’d pulled the dress from the hanger?

  He continued to stare, this time at my feet. “Take off your sandals.” He sounded bossy, but it made me smile. “Go barefoot like me.”

  I obeyed. Then, abandoning my sandals, I gave him a playful grin and dashed for the boardwalk and the sand. My feet sunk into the warm granules, making it awkward to run, but I didn’t stop.

  The beach stretched out to the horizon in either direction. Umbrellas, sunbathers, and blankets claimed the sand to the right, so I jogged to the left. The sun glistened on the ocean. My hair flew like streamers in the wind, and my lavender dress of ruffles flounced about my legs. I felt like part of the artist’s painting now, and it made me laugh.

  “Hey!” Jarret called from behind me.

  I turned, my long tresses blowing across my face. He ran after me but was still almost twenty feet away. I giggled and ran on.

  “No more... running away,” he said, gaining on me.

  Happier than I’d been in a long time, I gasped in d
eep breaths of air and pushed my legs to run faster. The salty wind invigorated me. It felt familiar and comforting.

  “You know...” He came alongside me. “You... can’t outrun me,” he said between breaths.

  I smiled, breathing through my mouth, and I no longer tried to outrun him. We jogged side by side down the endless stretch of sand, coming upon and passing another group of sunbathers. We ran past a private-property sign and into the shade of a towering hotel. My legs and lungs could do no more. I groaned and slowed. A few paces more, I stopped to catch my breath.

  He leaned over, breathing hard. “You can’t be giving up.”

  I felt a pang of disappointment that he hadn’t tried catching me, hadn’t wrapped his strong arms around me. My feelings surprising me, I dropped to my knees.

  “I surrender.” I fell forward, rolled onto my back, and stretched out my arms in the sand.

  CHAPTER 31

  MY HEART POUNDED against my ribs as I lay flat on my back in the sand, sucking in breaths of air and gazing at the blue sky. Puffy clouds shaped like unborn babies, chubby babies, dozens of babies, drifted miles above us. The ocean sang a lonely, soothing song as the tide rolled in and out. I was free. I knew in my heart that Jarret was not trying to control me. Whether I stayed with him or went back home, the choice was mine. Whether I wanted to talk with Roland or my Mom, the choice was mine. Had he changed or had I only just begun to see the real him?

  Jarret sat a few feet away, staring at me through eyes the color of cola in the sunlight. “You surrender, huh? Does that mean...you’re done running away... from me?” His chest rose and fell with his breaths and a breeze played with long flyaway hairs.

  I smiled. Was I done running? Sitting up, I pushed my feet through the warm top layer and into cooler sand. A few yards away, waves rolled in and smoothed the sand, only to slip back to the ocean and leave a scattering of white shells and stones. “Why did you let me go this morning?”

  He looked me over in a way that would’ve ordinarily made me self-conscious. “I don’t know.”