Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Out of sequence, but how she learned it, Adrienne then relayed the details Jesse told her later, about the old man, Amos, who had pulled her from the swamp. Jesse’s horror at the extent of her injuries, and his patience in nursing her back to health. His tenderness after.

  “I know this is hard for you to hear, Oz. Please know that I didn’t love him then, not the way I had loved you. But I did need him. Imagine knowing nothing else in the world but one person, and you might be able to understand.”

  Compassion filled Oz’s face. It was clear he understood, completely.

  “As I recovered, I expected my memory to slowly return, but it didn’t. There wasn’t even a glimmer. Angelique told me she was checking the local papers, searching for any news of a lost girl of my age, but nothing was ever mentioned. I now know that was impossible; knowing who my family was, it must have been all over the news for months. Heck, she probably talked to the police at some point! I have an idea of why she might have lied to me, but I will get to that later. I still think there is more to it.”

  As Adrienne relayed what life was like with the Fontaines, she realized much of it centered around her growing reliance on Jesse. Wanting to reassure Oz, she interrupted the narrative to explain, “I’m sorry to go on and on about Jesse, but I only want to say that I loved him for many of the same reasons I loved you: his kindness, his sensitivity. But I loved him mostly for how he cared for me. I loved you because you were you.”

  To this, Oz only smiled. While she appreciated his respecting her telling with silence, it left her hoping he understood.

  Adrienne continued her story with details of their daily life, and her interactions with Angelique and Anne, A&A. The routine, the wonderful, the deception she now saw, and how the relationship changed as her bond with Jesse evolved.

  “As time went on, my role in the family became more important. Jesse and I grew closer. I never thought of him as a brother the way I thought of Anne as a sister, but I hadn’t ever thought of him romantically, either. When it finally happened, it was very natural.

  “I won’t dwell on the details. But I will tell you one night we found ourselves talking on the porch after A&A had gone to bed, and he kissed me. It didn’t feel spectacular the way kissing you always had, but it felt right. Of course, I had no memory of kissing you, so I had nothing to measure against.

  “Angelique approved, very much, of this new relationship; seemed, in fact, to have been holding out hope for it. When we made our intentions known, her smile was satisfied.”

  Trying to lighten the mood, Adrienne changed topics, slightly, and relayed some of her happier adventures living in the bayou. Oz’s demeanor brightened considerably when she told him about helping with crawfish farming, and their success one year in selling enough that they were able to add an extra room to the house.

  “And then one night the dreams started. At first they meant nothing to me, but about a month ago I started to have very specific dreams. This was the beginning, Oz; it marked the moment when moving forward in my blissful unawareness was no longer possible.

  “As I said, initially, the dreams were very cryptic. I saw blurred faces in strange situations. Now I understand them to be my father, Cordelia, Nicolas, my sisters, and of course, you. I think I may have also seen my birth mother. At the time I had no idea who any of them were, or if they were even real people. But as the nights went on, and the dreams continued, I started to wonder if I was remembering things.

  “Jesse was the only one who knew of the dreams, but it wasn't because I told him. He slept next to me each night and often comforted me when I woke in sweat and tears.”

  Compassion bade Adrienne interrupt her narrative for another bit of comfort, “Oz, I will put your mind at ease. Jesse and I have never consummated our relationship. You are still the only man I’ve ever been with.”

  Oz’s sigh of relief was intentionally comical.

  Continuing, she tried to explain the months of increasingly vivid dreams, and how the joy of knowledge was at odds with her inability to share the revelations.

  “It was when I started to remember you that everything changed. First, it was just your face in different places, like your family law office, but then it turned into more intimate memories. Finally, I remembered waking up next to you in a hotel somewhere, and your name. I remembered Oz.”

  With a deep sigh, Adrienne recalled aloud the torture of having tasted something sweet, but being denied more. "Unable to talk to Jesse, I went to Angelique for help. It was her suggestion I call you.

  “You know what happened next. I called you, you came to see me, and the visit was not a success for either of us. I didn't find out until later that Angelique, in her anger and worry, filled Jesse in on what happened, which prompted him to meet with you. I am so sorry for that, by the way. If I had known then, I would have stopped him. I would have stopped her, too, from trying to take control over the situation. I realized then this was my life, not hers.

  “I wish I had answers for you about what happened in Abbeville, but I don’t. All I do know is Angelique told me the situation was taken care of, and the subject closed.

  “So I came to see you, Oz. Being with you opened up the floodgates to my memory, and everything came pouring out. I was so confused about what I was feeling. When the calls started, I knew I couldn’t string you along like I had been doing.

  “There is still so much left I want to say, but right now I can’t…”

  Chapter 28

  Oz

  WHEN ADRIENNE FINISHED, her face was full of tears, her hands trembling in her lap.

  “You don’t have to say anymore,” I told her. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “I can’t begin to tell you how truly sorry I am for what they have done to you. If only I had known. But I should have known! I should have seen it coming. No, I never should have dragged you into any of this. I should have known.” Her thoughts came one after another; she was talking more to herself than to me. Without warning, she looked at the door and ran outside into the rain.

  I ran after her. Her words were hard enough to hear, but her tears and pain were more than I could handle. I ignored the rain and gathered her into my arms, ready to tell her everything I wanted to say while she was baring her soul to me.

  “Don’t, Adrienne. I can’t take this. Stop.” I was ashamed of myself for doubting her all this time. It didn’t ease my guilt to argue I knew nothing of any of this, until now.

  “I love you,” I professed, feeling as if a three-year burden had been lifted from my soul. It felt wonderful to say it again. “I love you so much I can hardly breathe.” I was lightheaded and tears stung my eyes; tears of love, and frustration at having so many things to say without knowing how to say them.

  Relief washed over her face and the heat rose in her cheeks. She seemed afflicted with whatever was plaguing me. “Oz, please always love me the way you do right now.”

  I held her tight in my arms as the rain continued to pour down. The winds had subsided some, but the torrent was still fierce and unmerciful. The love for her I had buried deep within me was undeniable now, and I imagined what our life would have been like had years not been lost in Abbeville. I imagined our wedding, and our children chasing each other around the yard after dinner.

  With a rush, all of that was possible again.

  I set her down under one of the oak trees beside the cabin and she seized me, crushing her lips to mine. My hands ran along her damp clothes, sliding them over her head even as the rain continued mercilessly. She leaned herself back against the bark of the tree and I suckled her neck and her chin, her cheeks, her collarbone, her lips, all of her. It was not enough, and I completely ignored the reality we were soaked and should be miserable. I wanted to kiss every part of her. My love felt as if it would burst from me if I did not get it all out.

  “Oh, my Big Hero,” she whispered softly in my ear, quickening my pulse. I wanted to hear her say it again and again, for years and years to come.<
br />
  Afterward, we lay together under the oak tree, as the rain slowly turned into a drizzle, then stopped altogether. The sun broke through the clouds as it began to set to the West. She smiled happily at me and I could think of only one thing to say.

  “Marry me, Adrienne.”

  Her eyes closed and she leaned her head into my chest. “Yes, Oz.”

  We walked back to the big house hand-in-hand, the only part of the plantation still called Ophélie. Nicolas was sitting on the bottom of the double staircase with his head lying in his hands. He looked up when we walked in.

  * * *

  WE SPENT THE rest of that evening, and most of the next day, in bed. When we weren’t making love, we talked about the everyday things which occurred in the last three years. I told her about the firm-sponsored basketball team I had been convinced into coaching for a short time; about my difficulties in law school and the office. She told me about all the recipes she learned from Angelique, and some of the funny things from when she was left alone on the crawfish farm.

  The years melted away, we were Oz and Adrienne again, and all was right.

  * * *

  ON THE EVENING of the second night, Adrienne got out of bed and went downstairs for some tea. I woke up and followed her.

  “What is it?” I asked. Her discomfort was disturbing to me when all I could see in our future was happiness.

  Her red hair fell around her face in large waves, as she leaned over the tea cup she held with both hands. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t do this. Talk to me.”

  She looked up; her eyes were red and swollen from crying. “We have to leave New Orleans.”

  I laughed nervously. “Leave New Orleans? This is our home Ade. Why would we ever leave?”

  She closed her eyes again. “I want this, Oz. I want us to be together for the rest of our lives. But I can’t shake this feeling of disconsolation when I think of all that's happened to both of us. I believe we need to start over fresh, in a new place, with new lives. I don’t feel like we can start a life together here.”

  I smiled; I thought I understood. “Adrienne,” I said softly, kissing the back of her neck, “leaving New Orleans will not change any of what happened. We can’t run away from it. This is our home; this is where our families have lived for generations. This is where I want our kids to grow up and have their children.” I spun her chair around so she was facing me; it broke my heart to see the evident stress in her face. “I’ll protect you. You never have to be afraid of anything ever again. I love you. If you believe in nothing else, believe in that.”

  She looked up at me with tired eyes, but said nothing.

  “Damn it, Adrienne, when have you and I ever been able to say we played by the rules?"

  Her lip twitched as she continued to watch me.

  “Don’t you think our couldn’t-care-less approach might have been part of why things never worked out? We can’t run away anymore, or ignore reality. We can’t leave town and pretend we don’t have lives here, or that they don’t matter!” The more I talked, the more convinced I was of my own words. “If this relationship means anything to us, then we have to start giving it the respect it deserves. We have to face reality, sweetie. Life is always going to throw us these curveballs. We won’t ever make it if we can’t learn to make the most of them.”

  Adrienne sighed. She still watched me, but didn’t meet my eyes. “I know. I know what you say is true.”

  “Then do we agree?” I put my hand out to her, and smiled. “We will face this together?”

  She took my hand, but it was tense. “Yes, Oz,” she said sleepily.

  * * *

  I WAS NOT surprised when I awoke the next morning to find a note where Adrienne should have been sleeping. Also not a surprise that her abrupt departure was a result of me saying the wrong thing.

  I should have been heartbroken, and to an extent was, but it was as if she had never come back at all. It had only been a few hours and I was already forgetting the smell of her hair.

  Her note was brief and left little room for analyzing:

  Oz,

  Perhaps one day you will forgive me for this, like you’ve done in the past, though I don’t deserve it. I knew last night all I could accomplish with you would be to mess up your life. I love you too much to do that again.

  Adrienne

  Of course, this only proved she didn’t know me at all. Only in leaving me, repeatedly, had she accomplished messing up my life. Perhaps she knew that, perhaps she didn’t. This was twice now, and I could not run after her to the bayou. Her note left no indication of her wishes. She made her choice and if she could live with it, then I would also find a way to.

  In the end, it was that simple.

  I drove away from Ophélie without saying goodbye to Nicolas. I left the note where Adrienne had left it, and knew Nicolas would find it. It would be easier than explaining to him. I was resolute to forget about Adrienne, and to forget her meant forgetting Nicolas and Ophélie, all of it.

  I was done with the Deschanels.

  Chapter 29

  Oz

  TWO DAYS LATER, I went back to work. The associates didn’t give me the barroom welcome I expected. They were met with the same cold gaze I gave everyone now; the one they were familiar with on the face of the elder Colin Sullivan. They seemed to understand I was a different person. In many ways, I was. There are things a broken heart does to a man. You might say I finally grew up.

  The last of my innocence left with Adrienne. In its place was a grim, but fierce, determination to succeed at any cost.

  Over the next two years, I earned the respect and friendship of many of the people around me who had formerly been cruel. The associates often asked for my opinion on their cases, including my father. He began to groom me for my future partnership.

  I thought of Adrienne only in the most obscure moments; when I passed by Faulkner House Books, or in visiting the French Market for coffee. The memories were neither pleasant nor unpleasant because I only allowed them to exist as memories. It was akin to going to the store being a memory, or washing my car.

  I no longer believed Adrienne’s departure ruined my life. She had, in fact, opened many doors for me the previously softer Oz would never have considered. It was this new Oz, the man who no longer let people walk all over him or take advantage of his kindness, who re-met and married Janie Masters.

  * * *

  THE FIRST TIME I met Janie, I found myself smitten with her in the living room of my mother’s house. Our first date was interrupted, and our brief courtship had fallen into history. I wish now I could say I thought of that one date and wondered how things might have turned out had she not been called away, but the truth was I'd forgotten her entirely.

  When I met Janie again, it was in the least desirable circumstances. I’d been dealing with a particularly difficult case: one of the firm’s highest paying clients was accused of first degree murder and had no viable alibi. I was assisting one of the other partners in the case, and I had minimal experience in criminal law. There was enough evidence against Calvin Cartwright to put him in prison for the rest of his life, and I knew it would take more than a good lawyer to keep him out of jail. The criminal lawyer handling the case was counting on me to help put together a solid defense he could represent.

  Janie was still an investigator for the forensics unit of the New Orleans Police Department. I worked with her closely on the case, calling her almost daily for updates. We won the case, and Calvin his freedom, due primarily to her diligence, and so I took her out to dinner to thank her.

  “I turned my pager off this time,” she assured me, and grinned from across the table at Galatoire’s.

  “And this time my mother isn’t somehow behind this, so that’s two points in our favor,” I added.

  “And we are celebrating something which could change both of our careers forever.” She wrapped her long fingers around the base of her wine glass and lifted it. “I’d say this nig
ht couldn’t get any better.”

  My eyes twinkled mischievously as I looked at her over the glass. “Well…” I teased.

  “Well, indeed,” she agreed, and we both laughed.

  This time, I did see her again. And again. In my off time I would visit her at the lab, where she walked me through some of her scientific processes. I introduced her to running, and on the nights she slept over, we would run in the mornings together. In return, she introduced me to old kung fu movies, and I made her laugh with my faux-ninja moves. I loved to hear Janie laugh; she was normally very poised and reserved, but when she laughed her whole body went into it.

  Not long into our relationship, she learned she was pregnant. I asked her to move in right away.

  One night, I lay awake watching her sleep, thinking of what a wonderful mother she would make. There was another part of me, the one which clearly did not want me to be happy, mocking that it was the child inside I loved, not her. That, had it not been for our future child, nothing would have moved our relationship from a safe, casual one to a lifelong commitment. I would not give credence to the voice telling me I was incapable of loving her, because I knew if I could not love Janie, then I was truly forever scarred by Adrienne.

  My life had finally come together. I was young and successful in a bloodthirsty field of work, I owned a gorgeous home, and I had a beautiful fiancée who was carrying my first child. I'd almost forgotten about the love I’d lost.

  I married Janie right after she gave birth to Naomi. Circumstances made our marriage brief, but it was good. If that was more accurately attributed to us being such good friends more than lovers, so what? Naomi was all the happiness we needed. She brought us both such joy that we spent all of our time doting on her; taking her for walks, to the park, on short trips. We spoiled her and, in doing so, spoiled ourselves.