Memories of Me

by Dani Hart

  Grady and Brandt took turns sitting in my room during my stay. The psychiatrist had visited me, too. She talked, but I didn't hear anything she said. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone. When I wasn't sleeping, I was crying, and when I wasn't crying, I was a prisoner in dark thoughts of death. The train wreck replayed countless times in my head and I couldn't find my way out.

  Days had passed, and after they made me walk around and prove my body was functioning properly, I was released. They conducted a small assessment of my mental stability before releasing me and somehow still discharged me.

  A mistake on everyone's part.

  They wheeled me to the sidewalk as Brandt went to get the car. A scene of déjà vu, only this time we were at a hospital in San Diego. Staring at my hands had become my stability and I had chewed the nails down to nubs, a habit that replaced the carefree twirl of my hair. Grady waited with a nurse and me, but no one spoke. In fact, people stopped talking around me after a few days of my silence.

  The psychiatrist came to my room every day. She was the only one who talked to me. She prescribed a list of medications when I was discharged, including daily visits with her. I was on the daily visit schedule, which only proved further how far I had drifted.

  My thoughts became jumbled at times. The memory of the crash blurred with the death of my baby, and sometimes I couldn't distinguish them as two different events. I imagined I had a little girl named Tessa, and she was healthy and happy. When reality would return, I realized she was just a figment of a hope I once had.

  The drive home was quiet as the boys watched me carefully. They barely existed to me anymore. I did what they said, surviving on autopilot now. When we got home, Brandt helped me into bed, and I went to sleep. I thought as I drifted off maybe this would be it. Maybe this time I wouldn't wake up in this nightmare. Maybe I would wake up in a dream where everyone was still alive and little Tessa doted on her grandparents. Maybe this whole time I was living in the wrong reality, and I would wake up and finally find my way back. Maybe meant hope, and hope didn't exist anymore.

  I FUMBLED WITH my fingers on my lap. I was sitting on a leather couch in Dr. Paige Caldwell's office. I had seen a lot of her over the weeks, and I really liked her. She didn't act like she was better than me, and she certainly didn't look like a psychiatrist. She told me at some point she was twenty-eight, which seemed young for her credentials. She had long black hair that fell over her shoulder as she jotted down some notes, sitting across from me. She was patient with me. We made very little progress in our sessions, although I was talking now. I guess that was progress.

  "Baylor, we need to find something that makes you feel like you have a purpose. Can I be frank?"

  "Yeah."

  "I'm worried about you. I'm sure you've heard that multiple times as of late, but from a medical standpoint, I am legitimately afraid for you. Are you taking the anti-depressants I prescribed?" she asked. I shook my head shamefully. "Look, there's only so much I can do. Those drugs are meant to work with me, like a team. You need to start taking them."

  "Okay." I gnawed on my fingers. I had successfully mangled my fingertips for life.

  I was seeing her on a regular basis, but I rarely spoke. It was as if my mind had forgotten how to work. Nothing sounded or looked right. My thoughts were confused and I felt disoriented. And I slept most of the time. I wasn’t getting any better and, while the drugs might have helped, I didn’t care. I was numb and I was done trying.

  Finding Peace

  "BAY?"

  I cracked my eyes open to Brandt smiling sweetly.

  "Will you go on a walk with me?" His entire face pleaded.

  It had been almost two months since we lost the baby, and I hadn't improved much, but I was talking, just very limited. Mostly one-word responses and I rarely engaged them in conversation. A walk was his way of getting me out of bed, but I knew what today was, and it made it that much harder.

  "Please?"

  "Sure," I mumbled as I peeled away the sheets. I glanced at the vintage wall clock and noticed it was already two in the afternoon. Recently, I had managed to start getting out of bed at lunch, but today was harder. Today I had planned on staying in bed until tomorrow and skipping it altogether. It would have been smart if Brandt had let me do that, but he was hurting especially bad today, too, so he needed me.

  "Do you want anything for the walk? A snack or water?"

  "Water, thanks."

  I dug out a pair of black sweats and slid them on. They barely stayed on my hips anymore. All my clothes were too big now. I had lost a ton of weight with the depression, to the point where I looked unhealthy. I wanted to eat, but my body didn't. I would take a few bites of something and then lose my appetite.

  I pulled the drawstring tight and threw on a shirt that swallowed me, too. Then it really hit me, like a sucker punch to the gut. I bawled over in agony and my lungs refused oxygen. Today was June fourth. Today I should have been holding baby Tessa.

  Instead of moving forward, I was holding Brandt back from healing, and I was a burden on Grady. I couldn't do this to them anymore, and I couldn’t bear feeling like this another day.

  You could call me weak.

  You could call me a coward.

  You could call me whatever the hell you wanted, but I had reached my capacity for pain. And when I was gone, one thing you couldn’t call me anymore was pathetic. Today I would do my best to leave the boys with a memory of the girl they used to know, not the girl they labored over now.

  I walked into the kitchen where Grady was concentrating fiercely on his laptop screen.

  "Hey, Freckles." His smile was too big to be real. He knew what today was, too.

  Grady started calling me that nickname a few weeks ago. He was probably hoping it would restore our past banter, but it hadn’t worked.

  "Hey,” I replied simply.

  Brandt grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge. "Ready?"

  "Yep." I pulled on my shoes at the front door.

  Grady exclaimed after us, "Hey, I gotta work at the restaurant tonight. One of the managers got sick, so I'll see you guys in the morning."

  "Cool," Brandt responded. He held his elbow out for me, so I interlaced my arm in his and let him lead. "We should start running together again."

  I made a barely audible sound that could have been a response either way.

  "You missed your appointment today."

  I still saw Dr. Caldwell a few times a week. "Oh."

  "It's fine. I rescheduled you for tomorrow, if that's all right?"

  "Sure." I wondered if he was sick of my short responses. Maybe I would try to give him more than that today.

  It was a typical June gloom day by the beach. The sun was making every effort to peek out, but it was failing miserably.

  "I thought we could go visit the graves this week."

  "Okay."

  The street we lived on was serene. All the bungalows had cute white picket fences around them. I stopped at a house with vines of blooming forget-me-not flowers. On several occasions I had seen an older woman gardening out front, but she was absent today.

  "I know today is hard, but maybe we can finally say goodbye and—”

  I stopped and dropped his arm. "And what? Forget?"

  "No, no, Bay. Not forget. Just…move on. None of them are coming back, but we are still here. We can try for another baby."

  And there it was. The only words I had been dreading for him to utter. "I can't, Brandt," I said softly as I hung my head and watched a grouping of ants fight over a crumb of food.

  "I didn't mean now, but one day. When we're both ready." He caressed my shoulder gently.

  I should have told him I didn't want to try again. That I couldn't go through that again, but it didn't matter. It wouldn't matter after tonight, and I was trying to give him a different Baylor today, so I didn't say anything.

  "I love you, Bay. No matter what. I'm never leaving you." He raised my chin and kissed me on the lips car
efully, and this time I not only let him, but I also gave some back. He smiled and took my arm again. I had given him a false glimmer of hope, but he deserved it. Today he deserved more because tomorrow…tomorrow would be hard.

  He plucked a bundle of the flowers and handed them to me. "Let's take some home."

  I took them and stared deeply into the yellow centers that shone brightly like the sun. The center of these flowers signified brightness within the deep sea of blue that surrounded it. I wondered why someone named them forget-me-not. Did they have a secret power of hidden memories? Or was it simply because they were so eye-catching you couldn't forget them? Probably the latter.

  "You okay?" Brandt caressed my arm with his thumb.

  "Yeah." My typical diversion to reality had swept me up again.

  We headed back to the house. Grady was already gone, and it was close to dinnertime. I sat down on the couch as Brandt put the flowers into a vase and searched the fridge for food. I watched the gentle sway of his hips as he shifted back and forth. I swooned over those hips once upon a time. Maybe one more time.

  "There isn't much to eat. I haven't been to the store in a few days. We could go out? Or just get takeout?"

  Without a word, I stood up and walked over to him, shutting the fridge door and tracing the smooth curve of his jawline. The swirling combination of hazel and green of his eyes had faded over the past year, losing the luster that had me in awe the first time I met him. He grabbed my wrist.

  "Bay, we don't have to…"

  I covered his lips with mine. I knew if he spoke I wouldn't follow through with this, and I owed him at least this. His lips were hot on mine, and as soon as he relinquished to the moment, he grabbed the back of my neck and pushed back on my mouth hungrily, his fingers tangled in my hair. He backed me against the fridge and lifted me so I could wrap my legs around his waist. I wanted to feel the passion he was feeling. I wanted my skin to tingle and my pulse to quicken. I would have given anything to feel that again, but I didn't. Not because I didn't love him. Not because I wasn't attracted to him anymore. It was the opposite. I loved him so much I had built an iron wall around my heart to keep it protected from any more loss, but the price was high, and the sacrifice resulted in detachment.

  He carried me to the couch, lying on top of me. He brushed a few loose strands of hair off my face.

  "We're going to be okay," he said softly.

  I managed a small smile. He kissed my lips again and then trailed the kisses down my jaw to my neck. I turned my head to redirect a tear that trickled down my cheek and found refuge in the couch cushion. One tear. That was all I would allow tonight.

  One tear.

  He took care with me, being tender and slow. I was frail mentally, but physically I was worse, and he knew it. After we made love, we shared the couch, wrapped in each other's limbs.

  "So, back to dinner." He laughed.

  "Takeout is fine. Would you mind if I stayed here and showered?"

  He hesitated, but then kissed my head and sat up. "Sure. Will you be all right for a little bit?"

  I felt guilty for giving him the “I'm an adult” glare, but I needed to be alone and that was a rarity these days.

  "I'll just get something from the restaurant really quick."

  "Sounds good." I hadn't moved. I watched as he dressed, memorizing every inch of him. He bent over, kissing me on the forehead.

  "I'll be right back." He grabbed the keys off the counter. "Oh, and Bay, I have a surprise for you tomorrow."

  The pang of guilt stabbed my gut. "I like surprises," I lied, and he knew it, but he didn't question me as he left.

  I didn't bother getting dressed. I walked back to the bedroom and straight to our bathroom. There was no hesitation in my actions. I had thought about this every day since I lost the baby. I reached for the bottle of pain meds I had from the hospital, filled a glass of water, and started taking the pills in small handfuls. When the bottle was gone, I walked to the bathtub and turned on the water. I didn't bother waiting for it to fill. I stepped in and slipped on the wet surface, hitting the back of my head on the tub. "Dammit." I rubbed the back of my head, already feeling the knot rise.

  I watched the tub fill, letting the sound of cascading water lull my nerves and soothe the throbbing in my head from the fall. Or maybe that was the pills kicking in already. It didn't matter. As soon as the tub was full, I turned off the water, lay back, and closed my eyes.

  I thought about making love to Brandt after so much time had passed. I thought about Grady and his magnetic personality and surfer good looks. The train wreck crossed my mind, along with the faces of my parents and sister. The last image was of the little baby I had imagined every day. Brandt told me recently it was a girl. In my mind, she had my eyes and Brandt's full lips.

  As I slid down in the tub, the water covered my ears and peace enveloped me. Was I already dead? My body felt light, like it was floating, but then I heard a voice. It was muffled, but I heard it, and my body was shaking. I managed to get my eyes open wide enough to see Brandt yelling above me, but he was too late. My eyelids fell closed, and my body went limp.

  I thought death would bring me peace, but instead, I lived in an endless loop of haunting memories. Some good, but the bad overshadowed them. There were times I lived amongst a dream that included Brandt and me with our daughter. It was a beautiful dream. I tried to hold on to it when I felt the darkness move in, but it was too powerful and then I would be running hard on the pavement, fearing the worst and stumbling across body parts and debris from the train wreck. I saw my parents lying next to each other covered in blood, holding hands, their eyes blank as they stared up at me. I searched frantically for Tessa, but no matter how many times the loop came back to this nightmare, I couldn't find her. She was lost.

  I was being punished for killing myself. I had gone against the natural order of things and now was reliving the nightmares of my life, and there was nothing I could do about it because I was dead.

  Moving Forward

  Present

  THERE WAS ALWAYS a day of reckoning, whether in life or death. You had to atone for the things you had done wrong and for the people you had hurt. I opened my eyes with pain in my soul and guilt in my heart, but at the same time, I felt a sense of calm I hadn't felt since before the train wreck. Brandt was lying beside me on the bed in Grady's house. How did I get here? What happened? And then I remembered. I was kissing Brandt in front of my childhood home, and then I was rushing through the last year of my life like a movie on fast-forward. It was horrifically beautiful, and now I remembered everything. Not a missing detail. The gravity of what this meant weighed on my chest. I had lost my parents, my sister, my baby, and then I had forgotten all of them, which hurt just as much, like I had disgraced their memory.

  "Hey," Brandt whispered next to me.

  With my eyes wide, I turned my head to him and asked, "Why? Why would you guys keep my identity from me? I don't understand."

  He sat up. "I think it would be better if Dr. Caldwell—”

  I jumped up. "No. No, Brandt. I want to hear it from you."

  Grady ran into the room. He stepped back as soon as he saw the anger reddening my cheeks. I directed my attention to him. "And you, Grady? You, too?" Tears had inadvertently escaped.

  Brandt came back to my side and took my hands in his. "Calm down, Bay. I'll explain, but you have to calm down first."

  I was furious, but I sucked in a breath and held it until my muscles loosened. I let it out slowly and stared at the boys, waiting for answers. Grady leaned on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

  "When I found you in the tub, you were barely breathing. I rushed you to the hospital and I watched as you slowly slipped away. And when your heart stopped, just for that minute, I died with you.

  “I had nothing left. But then you came back to me. They induced a coma to help reduce the swelling on your brain from the fall, but then you didn't wake up. We were losing hope with every week t
hat passed. I sat next to your bed and talked to you every day. I worked by your bedside. I rarely left. And then you woke up when I was out for a walk. When I came back, the nurses refused to let me in to see you until I spoke with the doctor. She told me about your memory loss and advised that we let you remember on your own terms. It was the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make, but we knew you wanted a fresh start. A do-over, so we stayed by your side and let your mind decide for you.”

  Grady shifted uncomfortably.

  "But I didn't want that, Brandt. Yes, I wanted to forget all the horrible things, but not erase my entire life. I would never want to forget my family. None of you. I just couldn't handle the pain anymore. It hurt too much."

  Brandt continued, "Dr. Caldwell said there was a possibility you would never get your memories back, and while I could have told you about your life, she said it wouldn't mean anything to you. We all knew how broken you were, so we figured if you never got your memories back, we would just build new ones with you. Meet for the first time and fall in love again. We were just trying to do what we thought you would want us to do for you."

  I looked at Grady because I knew his pain matched mine at times. I felt it when he kissed me in the kitchen when I had forgotten who I was.

  "I was weak, and for that, I'm sorry. I thought I was stronger. I wanted to be stronger for both of you, but I failed. I sank to a place so deep I couldn't be rescued. Not even by you guys. I'm so sorry." I covered my face in shame.

  Brandt and Grady wrapped their arms wrap around me, and when I looked up into Grady’s eyes, I knew we were whole again, and I finally felt like there was hope for a future. What it was I really didn't know, but I knew I didn't want to die, and that was all that mattered right now.

  So many people had rallied to my side, and I almost gave that all up. "I—I don't know how to thank you guys. It still hurts. I see my sister's smile, and all I want to do is crumble. I see my parents reading the paper out back, and I want to shout for them to hold me again. I imagine the daughter we almost had, and I get scared because I don't know if I can go through that again. I know I have a long way to go, but for the first time I want to learn how, and it's because of you two, so thank you. Thank you for never giving up on me. Thank you for being my strength when I didn't deserve it."