People started to clap but he kept talking. “And if any of you, or someone you know, made that terrible mistake, we have a God who forgives. And maybe he’ll send someone into your life who can help you heal, help you see yourself without looking at all your past mistakes. That’s what God did for me.” His voice cracked. “And I know I don’t deserve her... my wife...”
My heart leaped and my eyes welled with tears. I moved away from the bleachers and stepped toward the stage, but he didn’t see me.
“She’s my treasure. She was a virgin until our wedding night. She couldn’t be here today or I’d introduce her to you. She’s—”
“I’m here,” I shouted and more than a few heads turned. I waved as I strode to the stage.
He squinted in my direction. “Caitlyn?”
“I’m here.” I neared the stage and tried to smile, but emotion forced something more like a frown.
He set the microphone down and jumped off the stage, meeting me in the aisle, stopping a few feet away. “You’re here,” he whispered, disbelief and joy on his face.
Fighting back tears, I nodded. With my next step, my three-inch heel wobbled and threw me off balance. I flung my arms out and fell against him. His hands shot up to my waist, helping me regain balance while making it look like a lover’s embrace.
“I’m here for you, Jarret.” Moved by an uncontrollable desire to be held by him, I threw my arms around his neck. He pulled me to his sweaty, trembling body and kissed my cheek. The assembly cheered and applauded.
I turned my head to find his lips. A tingly thrill of excitement coursing through me, I kissed him as if for the first time.
When our brief kiss ended, he pulled back, his expression a cross between shock and joy. And for an instant, we stood alone in the gym, in the world, clinging to one another, husband and wife.
“You’re trembling,” I said, still in his arms.
“Yeah, talking about this—how many years later?—always shakes me up.”
“Why do you do it?”
“You.” He gazed into my eyes, conveying love, admiration, and things deeper yet. “You told me I should. You said my story might help others, maybe save a life. You thought I could help kids like me, like I used to be.”
His arms slid from around me. He jumped onto the stage, snatched the microphone, and hopped back down. Then he took my hand and said, “I’d like you to meet my wife. Caitlyn. She’s three months pregnant with our baby.” The applause made it impossible for Jarret to say more. He dropped the microphone to his side, pulled me close, and kissed me again.
CHAPTER 35
TOO ELATED TO think straight, I sat on the couch in the living room, smiling at the loveseat. Jarret had looked so confident, so handsome, strutting back and forth on the stage. Although the things he said brought obvious discomfort, it didn’t stop him. How many times had he given the talk? How many schools had he gone to?
“These cookies are good. I’m getting addicted.” Roland carried a plate of them into the living room. He set it on the coffee table and flopped down onto the loveseat, sitting across from me. “What’s with the smile?”
Snapping out of it, I focused on him and sighed wistfully. “I’m thinking about Jarret. I can’t believe his talk. He’s so brave. I could never get in front of people and do that. All that personal stuff he shared... He didn’t seem the least bit nervous, did he?”
Roland shook his head. “A little emotional now and then. But the kids loved him.”
“Oh, they did. I wonder how many were truly affected by his talk. It was wonderful. I’m so amazed. Jarret. My husband.” I smiled at the loveseat again.
“You aren’t falling in love, are you?” Roland gave his sweet little smile, the one that had always made my heart flutter.
I giggled and shrugged, happy with the thought of falling in love with Jarret and aware that the idea pleased Roland too. “Maybe. I like the things I’m learning about him, about who he is now. I never realized how he changed, especially after Zoë.”
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t either. Keefe’s probably the only one who knew, being his twin and all. I knew he’d changed in some ways. But he kept up his bad boy image all through high school, didn’t he?” He pushed the plate across the coffee table, toward me. “Have a cookie.”
I took one. At the beach, Jarret had said that Roland’s forgiveness and mercy brought him to Jesus. Did Roland know? What an amazing brother and friend. Roland had dropped everything and flown out here to help his brother, to help me, and to support our marriage. Somehow, my affection for him had deepened, but also changed. I loved him as a friend, no longer wishing for more from him. And my feelings for Jarret... Some strange excitement made my heart race.
“Aren’t you going to eat that?” he said, making me realize I’d been staring at him.
“Yeah, I was just thinking.” I placed the cookie on my lap. “What’s Jarret’s favorite food?”
“Huh?” Roland took another cookie and shoved half of it in his mouth.
“You remember how upset he got when I made your favorite meal.”
“Lasagna. Yeah, that really bugged him. He likes Mexican, not like fast-food so much as real Mexican. I’m sure there’s a restaurant around here.”
“No restaurant. I want to make it myself. I’ll find recipes on-line.” I ate my cookie and thought. “You know, now I’m sorry I considered Sean’s theory about Jarret. Jarret would never—”
“Sean’s theory... about Jarret? He never shared it with me.” Roland’s steel gray eyes flickered with curiosity and suspicion.
“Well, maybe he didn’t think I told you about the kiss. Maybe he didn’t want you to know. I think he’s embarrassed about it.” I grabbed another cookie and scooted to the edge of the couch. “And, well, he was right about Jarret knowing. I had told Jarret. And he’s also right that I told Jarret on Friday.” I stood, cookie in hand, and walked around the couch to the bookshelf.
“Wow. You told him on Friday? What Friday? The Friday before last?” His voice held a touch of urgency.
“Yes, that Friday, Amnesia Friday.” I gazed at our silver-framed wedding picture on the bookshelf and bit into the cookie. We looked happy on our wedding day. Oh, what I’d give to remember it.
“Wow. How’d he take that?” With a half-eaten cookie in one hand, Roland leaned forward and rubbed his other hand down his thigh. “I mean, you told him Sean kissed you? How’d he respond to that?”
“Oh, not good. He said he got mad. I’m sure he was jealous.”
“I bet he asked if you kissed him back. Did you?”
“What?” I glanced. Roland’s dark eyebrows slanted upwards like two caterpillars lifting their heads. His eyes betrayed the depth of his worry. “How would I know? I don’t remember.”
“Sean has a theory? What’s his theory?” Roland still held the half-eaten cookie.
Returning to the couch, I took another cookie. “Well...” How had he worded it? “Sean suggested that I told Jarret about the kiss that Friday at lunchtime, which turns out to be true, and that Jarret saw our cars outside work, after hours. Did I tell you about that?”
“No.” He shook his head, eyes blinking. “You mean you and Sean were working late and Jarret drove by?”
“I don’t know if Jarret drove by, and we weren’t working. But we were at work, talking for an hour or so after everyone else had gone.”
“Just you two?”
I nodded, his anxiety deflating my high.
He set his half-eaten cookie on the coffee table and ran both hands down his thighs. “So, what’s the rest of his theory?”
“Well, I’m sure you can guess. Jarret followed me to the park or told me to meet him there or whatever, then he got angry. Something happened, and I ended up with amnesia.”
Roland gave a stone-faced stare and shook his head. “How well do you know Sean?”
“What?”
“I’m sure he’s a nice guy and all. Don’t get me wrong. But what if he’
s not playing with a full deck? What if he’s not being honest with you?”
“Roland, I didn’t say I believed him. It’s just a theory. He’s trying to help me consider possibilities.” I flung an arm out, making a gesture of frustration. “I told you I was sorry I’d even considered it. As I get to know Jarret better, I don’t think it’s possible he could get so angry that—”
“Jarret can get angry.” He said it under his breath but then glanced at me as if to see if I caught it. Then, as if to keep me from dwelling on it too long, he said, “What do you know about Sean?”
“What do you mean?” Sean was a nice young man who loved being an investigator. Of course, Victor thought Sean was a bit on the obsessive side, especially when it came to me. Didn’t Victor even say he’d confronted Sean about that? Sean obviously couldn’t accept what Victor had said since he’d continued to pursue me, admitting his affections only that Friday.
“Okay. I mean...” Roland stood and walked the length of the coffee table. “What’d you and Sean talk about when you stayed late Friday? Do you know? Did he tell you?”
I nodded but hesitated to answer. “I guess Sean confessed that he had feelings for me, and I told him I was in love with my husband. I told him he needed to find himself a girlfriend and get me out of his mind.”
“What if he couldn’t handle that? Since you can’t remember a thing, it’s his word what happened next.”
“Roland, please. I don’t think Jarret or Sean had anything to do with my amnesia.”
“You should consider everything.”
“Should I?” Even the theory about Jarret? I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Roland was only trying to defend his brother. He was no doubt annoyed that Sean had made him a suspect.
“There is something I haven’t told you, since you haven’t been around,” I said, and he gave me his full attention. “The night Jarret came home drunk and fought with you, the reason I freaked out, I had a flashback, regained a memory.” A chill ran down my spine, making me wish I hadn’t brought it up. With reluctance, I continued. “When I saw Jarret’s hair down and falling about his face, I knew I’d seen an image like that before. Then I remembered something clearly.” So, I relayed the entire memory to him, including the way it had made me feel.
Roland made no immediate response. His face appeared strangely calm. “It could’ve been a disguise.”
“A disguise?”
He eased onto the loveseat again and leaned back, looking exhausted. I’d never noticed dark circles under his eyes before. “You said he wore sunglasses and something over his mouth and nose. Not wanting to be identified. Because maybe you know him. If it were Sean, maybe he wanted you to think it was Jarret. Then—”
“Stop!” I folded my arms in protest. This was really too much. “Sean just happened to have a dark wig?”
“They’ve got more than surveillance equipment and cameras in the supply cabinet at Wright. They have disguises too.”
“Roland! I can’t believe that.” Frustration eked out in my voice. “Sean’s a nice guy. His feelings are misplaced. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”
“Maybe he didn’t mean to hurt you.” Totally out of character, Roland raised his voice to match mine. “Maybe it just happened.”
“I’ve heard that already, only difference is Jarret was the suspect in the other theory.”
Roland shook his head, disgust written on his face. “Yeah, Sean’s theory.”
“What about you? Do you have a theory?” I forced myself to lower my voice. Wanting to break his increasingly agitated mood, I got up from the couch and sat beside him on the loveseat. As calm as he had always been, it disturbed me to see him so troubled. Why had Sean’s theory bothered him so much, anyway? It was just a theory.
Roland picked up his half-eaten cookie and set it back down. “I don’t have a theory. We’ve been exploring all possibilities, going over the cases again, the pictures, the people you’ve had contact with lately. Oh—” He turned to me. “I think I know who you meant to meet at the park.”
“You do? Who?”
“Her name’s Adeline. Over a year ago, she had an abortion. She’s eighteen now, and your notes in the computer said she’d make a good witness, but you’ve been unable to contact her.”
“What makes you think I was going to meet her on Amnesia Friday?”
“Remember your notepad? Her name was on it. Her name and nothing else, as if it were a last-minute note.”
“Oh.” I vaguely remembered a notepad with a name on it. It sat on the edge of my desk and I’d moved it because I thought it might fall.
“Maybe it’s a long shot, but I’m going to check it out. If she was supposed to meet you at the park, maybe she saw something.”
“Good idea. We need to find out what park it was.”
Roland gave a confident nod. “I’ll ask Jarret tonight.”
“Yes, let’s. I really think a visit to that park will help me regain my memories.”
Roland returned to Wright Investigators and I puttered around the house, cleaning, organizing, and counting my blessings. I was about to grab another cookie when a car pulled in the driveway.
I glanced at the clock. I was after five and I hadn’t put dinner on!
As I rounded the loveseat, the front door opened and Jarret came in.
“Hi.” He gave me a cautious smile, stirring my heart.
I wanted to throw my arms around him and give him a wifely kiss, but I couldn’t make myself do it. How did a girl ever break through that apprehension?
“Hi, Jarret.” I twisted my arms behind my back. “I’m sorry I lost track of time.”
He shook his head as if he didn’t understand.
“I don’t have dinner on,” I said.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make it. I’ll throw something on the grill.”
I followed him to the kitchen and leaned on the island counter.
Working methodically, Jarret pulled a pound of ground meat, ketchup, mustard, and eggs from the refrigerator and proceeded to wash his hands. “I’ll make hamburger patties.” He brought down a bag of breadcrumbs and the salt and pepper shakers from an overhead cupboard.
“You were great today,” I said, practically whispering and tingling with awe. “Your talk.”
“Yeah?” He gave me a crooked grin.
“Yeah. I’m so amazed.” I watched him for a moment, appreciating his smooth moves as he worked. “I—I wish you had told me that we volunteered.”
“You wish I—” He froze and narrowed one eye.
Regretting my comment, I put up my hand. “I’m sorry. I know you tried. I wish I had listened to you. I didn’t really give you a chance to explain.”
A look heavy with emotion colored his face, but it passed as he immersed himself in his work. By the time his hands were entrenched in the mixing bowl, doing the messy job of forming the patties, the phone rang. He didn’t look up. It rang again. He gave me a glance.
“My hands are a mess.” He held them up. Then he locked gazes with me and the hint of a smile passed his lips, as if in acknowledgment of our newfound trust.
The phone rang again. I slid around the counter island and picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Caitlyn? What a surprise. I full well expected that husband of yours to answer.”
“Hi, Mike.” I leaned against the counter, near Jarret. He glanced at Mike’s name but kept forming patties as if the phone call did not concern him.
“Mind if I speak with him?”
“Jarret can’t come to the phone right now. He’s... indisposed.”
Jarret gave an amused grin, then leaned toward me. At first, I thought I stood in his way, but then I realized what he wanted. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, which had the surprising effect of making me feel just like a happily married woman.
“May I give him a message?” I said, smiling from the kiss.
“Sure, Caitlyn. I simply need to know: is Jarret coming to work
tomorrow?”
I lowered the phone. “Mike wants to know if you’re going to work tomorrow.”
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
“You’d better go to work.” I was half-playing, using an insistent attitude, but I was half serious too. “I haven’t been going. How are we going to pay the bills? And with a baby on the way—”
Gaze dropping to my mouth, he leaned to kiss me again.
I turned away playfully, flipping my hair in his face, and put the phone to my ear. “He’ll be there, Mike.”
“Well, that’s good. The boss is none too pleased with his recent attendance. And besides, I understand Jarret found his camera. He needs to bring it to work. There are some pictures on there that I need, uh, we need to complete our assignments here.”
“Okay. I’ll tell him.”
“Make sure he brings it.”
“Okay.” Eyes on Jarret, my husband, I hung up the phone and leaned in for a kiss.
CHAPTER 36
LYING IN BED on my left side, I stared at the bedroom door. Roland had come back over and stayed late, sharing his theories and making suggestions for our next course of action. Words from our conversations rolled around my head like clothes in a laundromat dryer. I closed my eyes and tried to shut off my thoughts.
My knees pressed against each other, bone to bone. I flipped onto my other side and stuffed part of the blanket between my knees. No good. Now my hipbone dug into my skin. I shifted my weight. No use. I rolled partially onto my tummy, but the thought of how my back would ache in the morning gnawed at me. So, I rolled onto my back and gazed at the ceiling, at the strip of blue light that crept into the room through the inch-wide gap between the curtains.
My gaze traveled to the bedroom door. I could barely find comfort in bed. How could Jarret find comfort on the couch? It wasn’t fair, really, that he should have to sleep on the couch every night. It wasn’t his fault I had amnesia. We could take turns on the couch. I could sleep just as uncomfortably on the couch as I could in bed.
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