Memories of Me

by Dani Hart

  The blood mixed with the vodka on the floor in a pretty swirl like a multi-colored lollipop from a carnival. It was devastatingly beautiful. I stood up and wrapped a kitchen towel around my hand.

  I should have cleaned up the rest of the mess, but I didn't. I had the sudden impulse to pack up what little things I had and leave, so much so that I raced into the bedroom and frantically gathered the toothbrush and paste, hairbrush, and the few items of clothing I owned. I didn't have a suitcase, but I had one of the shopping bags. I shoved the items into it and went to the front door, ready to leave, when I realized I had no money, no car, and no one to call. Or did I?

  I grabbed the cordless phone in the kitchen and dialed 411. "Hi, I need the phone number for Ki's, a restaurant in Cliffside, San Diego." I rummaged through the junk drawer while I waited and pulled out a notepad and pen. I jotted the number down. "Thank you," I said as I hung up. I quickly dialed Ki's. "Hi, is Nichole there?"

  I SAT IN the dark on the front porch with the sum total of my whole life in the shopping bag next to me. The floodlight turned on as soon as Nichole pulled into the driveway.

  She rolled down the window. "Dude, that's bright," she said as she shielded her eyes. "You ready?"

  I jumped up with my bag. "Yeah." I hopped in the car and watched the house disappear as she drove away.

  "You guys have a fight?" she inquired.

  "No. Yes. Not really. It's—"

  "Complicated. I get it," she said, cutting me off. "Nothing with the Reilly boys is easy." She winked.

  She had turned on a random radio station and rolled down her windows, letting the warm air swirl around us. She drove a black Toyota Prius with the Ki's logo on it. "Is this the company car?"

  "No, they pay for the car if I advertise on it."

  "Oh. That's cool."

  "Yeah, I make good money there, but every little bit helps. I'm trying to finish my degree."

  "What's your major?"

  "I majored in psychology, and I'm getting ready to start my master's thesis now."

  Of course, she was. Irony. "That's great. You're not going to try to diagnose the situation, are you?"

  "Hell no. I'm off the clock." She laughed.

  "Good. Thanks. I mean, for picking me up. You don't even know me."

  "But you're a friend of the Reilly boys, so that's good enough for me. Although if this gets me fired, I won't like you very much anymore."

  Her sarcasm was refreshing. She didn't say much at the restaurant or in the bathroom, so I really had no idea what to expect, but she was nice to me, so I knew I could call her.

  "Do you have a destination? Or maybe a name?"

  I shifted in my seat uneasily. Here it goes. "I don't know my name. Is that weird? Are you weirded out now?"

  "No, but seriously, how do you not know your name? What happened to you?"

  "Evidently, I tried to kill myself, and I was in a coma for a month. I woke up with no memories and no friends or family waiting, so now I'm here in your car with no name."

  She looked at me oddly. "Geez. That's quite a story."

  "You still off the clock?"

  "Depends. Do you want me to be?"

  I sighed. "Maybe. I don't know."

  She turned a corner into a residential street of small one-story houses. "You're coming to my house."

  "Thanks. I wasn't really sure where I was going to go." She pulled into a small driveway of one of the houses.

  "It's not much, but it's close to work and the beach, and I can afford it." She smiled and got out of the car.

  I grabbed my bag from the back seat and followed her to the front door. It was cute. The door was painted with a crackled white finish, and vines with bright pink flowers crawled up and around it from pots on either side.

  Once we got inside, I could see why she was fine with the size of it. It was right on the beach and had a magnificent view of the ocean. The house itself was more of a bungalow with a sitting area attached to the kitchen and one bedroom and bath. It couldn't have been more than a thousand square feet, but it was warm and inviting and newly upgraded.

  "I'm in love with this view. It's everywhere I go,” I called into the kitchen after her. I had planted myself inside the front door, completely mesmerized. She popped out of the kitchen with two mugs and handed me one.

  "I hope you like tea. It looks like you could use this."

  "I don't know if I do, but it smells delicious." I took a big whiff as the steam rose from the cup.

  She led me to the couch that was positioned for the view and not the flat screen that hung on the wall. "Not much of a TV watcher?”

  She looked up at the flat screen. "Oh, yeah. I only turn that thing on when I have friends over to watch a game or play Dance Revolution."

  "What's Dance Revolution?"

  "You're kidding me, right? It's only the best game, ever. I can't believe you've never heard of…" She stopped short.

  "It's okay. My memories actually don't work that way. I remember that kind of stuff. I just don't remember people and events. Really, anything associated with an emotional attachment."

  "Dissociative amnesia. That sucks."

  "Yeah, so, I really don't know what Dance Revolution is."

  "That's just not right. It's a shame, really."

  We laughed in unison. I really liked Nichole. Her looks were intimidating as hell and finding out she was smart on top of it was enough to have guys running for the fences, but she was real, and I liked that. "How long have you worked for 'the boys' as you call them?"

  "About a month. They really have a great thing going. Being eco-friendly and eating healthy and organic is the thing right now, so they're hitting it while it's hot. Before they bought the restaurant, it was going downhill fast."

  "You seem to know them pretty well." I took another sip of tea.

  "Not really, actually. I dated Grady for a millisecond when they first hired me. It was more of an employee with benefits type of situation."

  "Oh, wow, okay." I was slightly shocked.

  "Come on. Don't be such a prude. We're all adults. Neither one of us was looking for a relationship, but we all have needs, and he is not hard on the eyes. To be honest, I'm surprised he's not taken."

  "No, he's definitely not hard on the eyes," I said quietly.

  "I'm sorry. Are you guys a thing or something, because it really looked like you and Brandt…"

  "No. Not with either of them. Just friends. I think. Well, I mean, we just met, and I'm staying in Grady's house." I stopped to think about how to explain us, but it was impossible, so I gave up. "I don't know what I am. I'm a stray with no memories, and they were kind enough to take me in."

  "Then why did you leave?"

  "They're really intense," I blurted out, causing her to laugh.

  "Yes, they are, which is why I kept it at just employee after about a week. Those boys will break some hearts, for sure, but they have a lot going on."

  We sat quietly for a few minutes sipping our tea and staring out into the ocean. "It's nice here."

  "You can stay as long as you want, but you'll have to crash here on the couch."

  "Are you sure you don't mind? I love the boys for helping me, but I need to focus on me, and they are serious distractions."

  "Of course, and I have a few days off, so I can help you if you want."

  "Really? That would be great. Thank you."

  It was late, so I washed up and settled on the couch. It pulled out into a bed, and Nichole had made it for me while I was showering. My luck in people continued. I was forever grateful and hoped one day I could repay them all somehow.

  I WOKE UP in a slight haze and heard faint voices coming from outside. It took me a minute to acclimate to my new surroundings, but by the time I was sitting up and rubbing my eyes, Brandt came barreling inside. I lay back down quickly and closed my eyes lying very still.

  "Dude, she's still sleeping," Nichole whispered through gritted teeth.

  Brandt whispered ba
ck, "I don't care, Nichole. She had us freaking out all night. You should have called us right when you picked her up."

  "What are you, her keeper? You just met the girl. How was I supposed to know it would cause the Reilly boys to go hysterical?"

  "You guys, I'm awake. You can stop trying to whisper now." Brandt came and sat on the bed. Before saying a word, he grabbed my wrists for inspection.

  "What are you doing?" I yanked them from his grip.

  "There was blood. Where did it come from?"

  "A piece of broken glass your brother left on the floor after freaking out and throwing a glass against the wall." I shoved my hand into his face so he could see the barely-there cut. "Unbelievable." I threw the blankets off, slammed open the back slider, and rushed outside. Brandt followed behind, and Nichole hung out in the doorway.

  "What, are you mad at me? You're the one who left without so much as a note. I should be the mad one," Brandt challenged.

  I twirled around to face him. "Looks like you're pretty mad to me, Brandt." I was more than mad. I was livid. I didn't know why I was so angry, but I was. I stormed up to him and pushed him. "It hasn't even been one day, and you already think I'm going to kill myself. One day, Brandt." I pointed a finger at him. I was surprised how quickly my anger turned to pain. I felt betrayed. I choked back the tears. "You said 'no matter what,' but here you are already pinning me as a nut case." I walked a few feet away toward the water.

  "I'm sorry. You're right, but I was scared. Grady called me and told me what happened, so I went to check on you, and I found glass and blood and you not there. I freaked out."

  I whipped around. "I don't get it, Brandt! Why do you care so much? You don't even know me!" I was screaming now. I didn't want to scream at him. He had been so wonderful to me, but my emotions were all over the place. Nichole disappeared inside. Something I kind of wished I could do. My head was pounding from the stress on top of everything else.

  Brandt approached me and took my arms in his hands gently. "We have a connection. I can feel it. I felt it the first time I saw you, and it's only gotten stronger. It's been a long time since I felt this way, and I can't just walk away from it. From you."

  With every word he spoke, I was weakening. I wanted to be mad at him so walking away would be easier, but he was making it so damn hard. "I feel it, too, but…"

  He gripped my arms tighter. "But what?" he asked as panic filled his eyes. "But what?"

  I shook my head as if that would be enough, but it wasn't. He wouldn't let go, and tears were surfacing in his eyes as mine spilled over. "I'm sorry, Brandt. I can't do this. Not with you or Grady."

  If I listened hard enough, I could hear his heart break like the waves on the shore behind me. Loud and in stereo. He let go of my arms slowly and took a step back, defeated.

  "I need to figure out who I am. Who my family is or was. I should have started looking the moment I woke up, but I didn't, because I had you guys to take care of me, which I'm so grateful for, but I can't stay with you anymore. We all have so much baggage, and it's colliding with epic force and keeping me from doing what I need to be doing." I hoped my reasoning would take away the pained look on his face, but it only made it worse. "I'm not saying goodbye, Brandt, but I need to do this by myself. Nichole said I could stay here until I find my family."

  He didn't say anything. He didn't move. I wondered if he was even breathing, because I wasn’t. It made me realize how much he cared for me. How hard someone could fall so fast. How true love at first sight could be. And how horrible wrong timing could be.

  I didn't know how long we stood there staring at each other, but it was a long time.

  He finally broke the silence. "Will you do me one favor?"

  "Of course, I owe you so much."

  "Please, please, don't say you owe me anything."

  "Okay, I don't owe you anything," I obliged.

  "Don't forget about me."

  The world froze.

  Time stopped.

  Those words echoed in my head. Don't forget about me.

  It was like a haunting right out of a nightmare, sending chills through my bones. "I won't. I promise."

  He walked to me again, took my head in his hands, and leaned over and kissed my forehead. He caressed my bottom lip thoughtfully with his thumb for a moment and then left. My heart sank into the sand because I had just lost someone else.

  Don’t Forget about Me

  I SAT ON the little patio after Brandt left. I couldn't put all my thoughts together in a sensible order, so I just watched as the waves broke on the beach. Nichole was sweet and brought me a cup of coffee and returned with a laptop, placing it onto the little bistro table.

  "I think this would be a good time to start searching for the girl behind the name Freckles." She smiled.

  "Thanks, Nichole. Sorry about all that."

  "Yeah, that was something. Are you sure you guys just met? That was pretty intense."

  “It was, which is why I had to leave. I just woke up from a coma and found out I'm suicidal. I'm not equipped to deal with an epic love story right now. I don't even think I'm capable of dealing with the truth."

  "I know. Look, I'm not here to judge you, but I think you made the right decision, from a wanna-be psychiatrist's point of view. Your brain is on overload. I think tackling one thing at a time is the best thing. I can see it in your eyes. You're scared to lose him, but I promise you, with the way he handled you and the way he looked at you, he's not going anywhere. He's being selfless right now and giving you the space you need. He must care about you a lot."

  I sniffed back at a tear. "I'm supposed to start seeing a psychiatrist."

  "I think that's a good idea.”

  "Will you go with me? I know it's a lot to ask because you don't know me, but I'm scared to go alone."

  She put her hand on mine. "I like you, Freckles. You remind me of my little sister. If you want me to be there, I'll go. I've been struggling on a thesis topic. Would you mind if I killed two birds with one stone?"

  "Not at all. It's the least I can do to repay you."

  "I won't use names, but I think this is fascinating. I mean, it sucks for you, but from a psychiatrist's standpoint, this is a pretty rare opportunity. And if I can help you in the process, even better."

  I smiled in agreement.

  "Now, where do we begin with this search? Do you remember anything? Any names, high school, jobs?"

  "No, the only memory I have had is kissing a man, but I couldn't see his face."

  "Well, that's a pleasant memory, at least."

  "Yeah, but it complicated my feelings with Brandt a bit."

  "Right. I can see how that would.”

  “Oh, and I did have this weird nightmare, but I couldn’t decipher too much from it. Just a blinding light and a loud horn.”

  “An accident, maybe?” Nichole added.

  “Maybe.” I shrugged, unsure.

  “Okay, at what hospital were you treated?" she asked.

  "Scripps in Encinitas," I replied.

  "Oh, nice. Great hospital. They have one of the best brain injury programs."

  "I guess I was at the right place then."

  "More importantly, it means you are probably from here. What day were you admitted?"

  "June fourth." She started typing. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm doing a Google search to see if anyone reported someone missing after that."

  I watched her face contort as she opened tabs and closed them, clearly frustrated. I eventually turned back to the ocean. My confidence was depleting with every minute that passed and every cuss word she spat out.

  "Dammit! Nothing. I swear I have searched every database I can think of. Nothing in the papers, either."

  "It's okay." I tried to reassure her, but it wasn't okay. It was confirming how alone I really was.

  "You know what? We are going about this the wrong way. Give me a sec." She stood up and went into the house. Less than a minute later, I heard her ch
attering on the phone. When she hung up, she came back to report.

  "I just spoke with my thesis mentor. She's one of the best psychiatrists in the area, and I'm not just saying that. I told her about you, and she said she would love to meet you if you were willing. Her name is Dr. Paige Caldwell."

  "Wait." I brushed past her and searched through the pants in my bag. I pulled out the paper Dr. Surai gave me. Printed on it was Dr. Caldwell's name. I handed it to Nichole. "That's who my doctor wanted me to see."

  "Great, then I'll set it up for today. We are going to get to the bottom of all of this, and even if in the end you find out you have no one, you will always have me. And don't write off the Reilly boys just yet." She winked.

  She managed to muster a smile from me. I was looking at potentially a new best friend, and it made me feel that much less afraid of what was embedded in the hidden caves of my mind.

  "Is that all you have?" She gestured to my pathetic bag.

  "Yeah, Grady bought it for me. I don't have any money." I shrugged.

  "Okay, well, that's not going to be enough. We're the same size, so you can borrow whatever you want. We'll have to get you your own wardrobe at some point."

  "Maybe I need to get a job?"

  "Yeah, maybe, but let's give you some time before you do that."

  We had a few hours before my appointment with Dr. Caldwell, and Nichole had a sudden burst of inspiration to start researching her thesis, so I went for a walk. She lived on a charming little street lined with bungalows. It was so quiet I could even hear the ocean.

  A low layer of coastal fog was still hanging around, keeping the air crisp and fresh. I loved this weather. One day, warm winds, and the next, the threat of rain. It was like the way my mind worked—all over the place—but the mood swings of the weather were definitely more pleasant than my own.

  As I walked down the sidewalk, I came across a bush of forget-me-not flowers. The brilliance of the blues contrasted magnificently with the yellow centers of the blooms. I bent down and took a small bundle in my hand as the words Brandt spoke haunted me again.

  Don't forget about me.

  What was it about that phrase that gave me the heebie-jeebies? I mean, aside from the obvious memory loss, there was something about it, but I couldn't place it. And then, suddenly, I had a vision where I was holding a bouquet of forget-me-not flowers standing in a cemetery full of gravestones, the sun beating down on my shoulders. I stood next to a fresh grave holding the flowers as the words repeated in my head.