Our conversation inevitably brought up the topic of me taking another trip back to Huntsville. “You should,” Clarisse insisted excitedly. “Just don’t tell your mom where you’re headed if you don’t want her to worry.”
The thought had occurred to me, but I’d have to come up with something good because, if I took the drive, I didn’t want to just go for the day. I’d at least stay overnight.
“You said you’re off this weekend, right?” she asked and I nodded as her eyes went wide. “I’m off too. Let’s make a weekend out of it. Me and you. You can tell your mom we’re driving out to Nashville to see my cousin. She really does live there, and that’s too long a drive to just go for the day.” She lifted a brow. “I’ll tell you all about my pathetic love life on the ride there so you won’t feel so bad about things going sour with Ryan.”
Instantly, I was on board and beyond excited about it. Since Clarisse was so likable and Mama had met her once before and she knew I’d started talking to her more often now since my break-up, she didn’t even question my taking a road trip with her. She was glad I was getting out.
We drove out Saturday morning. As promised, Clarisse treated me to hours of hilarious storytelling. The girl was a hoot. Yes, the guy she dated was an asshole for pretending not to realize she wasn’t aware theirs was an open relationship, and I felt for her. But the way she told the story had me in stitches.
“Do you know I found a pair of panties in his sofa cushions and he convinced my dumb ass they were mine?”
I laughed incredulously. “How’d he do that?”
“Because they were generic black lacy panties like several of the ones I own. So, I couldn’t be sure, but he’d been so adamant that they couldn’t be anyone else’s, and up until then, he’d been so perfect I believed him.”
We stopped just outside of Huntsville at a flower shop so I could pick up a Bird of Paradise bouquet, Madeline’s favorite flower. When Mama first told me about it, I thought it was an odd choice. The tropical-looking thing wasn’t very pretty per se. But each time I bought one to leave at her graveside, the flower started growing on me. It made sense someone as outgoing as Madeline would prefer something so different and exotic. I’d even planted a few in both Mama’s and Ryan’s yards.
It seemed the small town was busier than normal. We concluded it was likely due to all the travelers we’d heard about on the radio who’d been detoured from the main road because of a fire. Even the cemetery had more visitors than any of the other times I’d visited, but it was a Saturday. We parked and stopped first at Shelby’s grave since it was closest to where we’d parked. I left daisies on her grave as I always did. Mama didn’t actually know what her favorite flower was, but after seeing all the daisies at her grave every time we’d been there, we figured daisies must’ve been special for her. So, daisies it was.
When we were done there, we started toward Madeline’s grave. There was a guy in a black sleeveless shirt and jeans kneeling at a grave near Madeline’s. I wondered sadly if maybe he’d lost someone recently since his body language with his head bowed down was so poignant. As we neared, I realized it was Madeline’s grave he was at, and I slowed, glancing around.
“What’s the matter?” Clarisse asked when I hesitated to keep walking.
“I just . . .” I peered at the headstone to make sure it was Madeline’s, and it was. “I don’t know who that is.” I whispered, attempting to appear as if maybe I was there to visit a different grave. “But that’s Madeline’s grave he’s at.”
Clarisse glanced over my shoulder since I’d turned my back to the guy and the grave. “It’s probably an old acquaintance you don’t remember,” Clarisse said, stating the obvious.
“I know, but it’s awkward,” I whispered.
I glanced back, just as I was about to suggest we come back when the guy left, and he looked up. He stared at me from behind his dark glasses for a moment before standing up. For some reason, I felt stuck. Like I couldn’t look away. He stood slowly. My eyes were glued to him as he straightened out to all of what must’ve been a good six-three, six-four stature. Then he pulled off his glasses and our eyes met.
I felt the air sucked out of me, literally, so I gasped. “What’s wrong?” Clarisse asked as I reached for her arm.
The flash was louder and brighter than any of the other times. His light-colored eyes—not any other part of him, just those haunting eyes—flashed over and over in my brain. I closed my eyes as the flashing continued. Bringing my hand to my mouth, I did my best to muffle my crying. It was too quiet and serene at the cemetery. My crying would only make a scene. The emotion was like none I’d experienced in all my past episodes. It wasn’t pained. My heart didn’t ache even the slightest. The biggest difference was my heart swelled with a familiar joy. Yet I had no clue who this guy was or why I was feeling what I was feeling.
“Maggie,” Clarisse asked anxiously as she held me with both hands. “What’s happening? Is this one of your spazzes? What do I do?”
Hearing Clarisse’s voice jolted me. I was this close to rushing to the stranger who was still staring at me. Not just rushing, but I had this incredible urge to run to him and jump in his arms. But I refrained, knowing that would be crazy. Only I couldn’t abstain from walking toward him. Clarisse followed alongside of me, holding my arm silently.
I shook my head, desperately trying to compose myself. The guy continued to stare at me, and he didn’t seem too composed himself. He appeared staggered. It took a moment for me to get it together and really take him in. He was tall with dark, almost black, hair. As I got closer, I could see the light eyes were, in fact, green. A mesmerizing green. His sleeveless black T-shirt hugged his muscled upper body just so, and both arms were covered with tattoos. Even his neck had tattoos. For a second, it made me think of Sam from the bar.
“Maggie?”
I nodded as I reached Madeline’s grave. Clarisse let go of my arm but remained cautiously near me. The guy glanced at her then back at me, still eyeing me with a completely stunned expression. He pointed at himself as his brows furrowed. “Nicholas,” he said then shook his head. “You don’t remember me?”
“I never regained my memory after the accident,” I said, glancing down at my sister’s grave then back at him. “I don’t remember anything or anyone from my past.” I gulped, wondering where in my past he fit, even though my heart already knew he definitely did.
“I didn’t know you lost your memory.”
“I did,” I said, glancing down at the fresh bird of paradise bouquet on Madeline’s grave I could only assume this guy brought her. I glanced back at him. “So, I’m sorry, but I don’t remember who you are.”
“I was Madeline’s boyfriend,” he said, still staring at me so profoundly I could feel his gaze touch my soul, his words only further shocking me to my core.
Nicholas continued to take me in, in a way I can only describe as awestruck. His eyes swept over every part of me—up and down, side to side, and every inch of me. Then he brought his hand to his chest and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d forgotten just how identical you two were,”
I stared at him, feeling just as awestruck as he seemed. He took me in once again as I tried to wrap my head around the fact that this was Madeline’s boyfriend. So why did I feel such a connection with him?
I don’t know how long we stood silently just gazing into each other’s eyes, but it didn’t feel long enough when Clarisse finally cleared her throat and broke the silence.
“Wow, this must be so weird for you both.”
“I don’t think weird even begins to cover it,” Nicholas said, glancing at her then turning back to me. “Are you living in Huntsville again?”
“No. We just took a weekend road trip here.”
I introduced him to Clarisse. He nodded, smiling at her, then explained how he’d been one of the travelers who’d been rerouted by a fire nearby and that he didn’t live in Huntsville anymore either. Eve
ry word we exchanged felt like it was two other people doing the talking and I was floating above watching. I couldn’t get past what his gaze and just standing there looking at him did to me. I couldn’t get past the sensation I hadn’t stopped feeling since our eyes met.
He said he lived in Radcliffe, a small town I knew was just east of Denton. As much as I had this urge to suggest what I really wanted to, something about the sadness in those beautiful eyes kept me from saying it. That I wanted us to go somewhere where we could sit and talk some more. I didn’t know what it was, but something in my gut felt like there was so much more to my past with Nicholas.
Mama had made a point of telling me there may’ve been boys in our lives we didn’t tell her about. But one that would be so into Madeline he’d still be visiting her grave almost seven years after she passed? How could Mama not know of him? Suddenly, I had a million questions both for Mama and Nicholas.
“I wanna say it was nice to see you after all this time, Maggie,” Nicholas said, peering at me strangely. “But nice isn’t strong enough a word to describe what this feels like. It’s more like . . . surreal?” He shook his head with a frown. “No. Even that doesn’t do it justice.”
Thankfully, before I lost the nerve to ask, Nicholas pulled a business card out of his wallet. “I gotta be somewhere in a couple of hours,” he said, handing me the card. “This fire really threw a wrench in my plans. But give me a call when you get a chance. I’d love to catch up, especially since I never got a chance to say good-bye or anything.” He glanced back at the grave, and I felt the sadness that swept through his eyes. “That thing they say about time healing all wounds?” He glanced back at Clarisse and me; then those amazing eyes locked into mine. “It’s bullshit. I’ve given up waiting for it to happen. I’ll never get over her.”
Instantly, I went from being so awestruck—I felt lightheaded—to feeling completely choked up. I brought my hands to my face to cover it then felt big strong arms around me. The hug was as familiar as if I’d felt it a million times. The musky fragrance, a mixture of leather and him, was so refreshingly familiar, but for whatever reason, it made me cry even harder. His hands caressed my back as he squeezed me even tighter.
“I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I was about your loss,” he said softly against my ear. “It’s the only thing that’s kept me from totally losing it all these years.” He pulled away to look at me, and I wiped at my tears. “Every time my ass started feeling too sorry for myself, I’d think of you and how hard this must be for you. You two were so close.”
I shook my head, feeling an even deeper ache than I was already feeling. “I don’t remember her,” I whispered. “I didn’t even know I had a sister until weeks after I’d woken or that she was my twin until after I’d left the hospital.”
He peered at me, the hurt in his eyes as palpable as the one in my heart. “Obviously, it still hurts. Maybe your brain doesn’t remember her, but your heart does.”
My mouth flew open for a second, but I closed it when I saw his eyes fall to my lips. For years, I’d been asking myself and even my therapists the same question. Was it possible for my heart to remember even if my brain didn’t? The answer had always been no, but clearly, they were wrong.
He pulled his arms away, and I was overcome with a profound sadness—emptiness. Nicholas glanced at Clarisse then glanced back at me. “Stay in touch,” he said, pausing for a second. “Please.”
I nodded, still wiping tears away. I watched as Nicholas walked to where several cars were parked along the side of the cemetery. To my surprise, he kept walking until he reached a motorcycle a blond girl was leaning against. She wore jeans with leather chaps over them and a matching leather jacket. I was instantly and irrationally jealous on behalf of my sister.
The girl handed him a small helmet, the kind that covers just the top of his head not all around, and he put it on. After putting hers on and waiting for him to mount the bike, she hopped on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Clarisse started to say something, but the roar of the bike when he kicked it on had the flashes in my head going. Visuals of Nicholas riding away on his bike alone flashed in my head again and again. Only like earlier, there was no pain, nothing but the unexplainable swelling of my heart I understood as much as the pain. After watching Nicholas and his girl ride away in silence, Clarisse’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“What in the world?” she said, sounding as stunned as I felt. “How could your mom not tell you about him? I can understand you might forget him, but there’s no way she can say she did. Hell, he’ll be etched in my brain forever now.”
“Maybe she didn’t know about him,” I said, genuinely feeling like that might be the case given his bad-boy appearance. I just couldn’t get over my reaction to seeing Madeline’s boyfriend.
“You think so?” Clarisse asked, glancing in the direction where Nicholas had ridden away. “He does seem a little older, and I’m sure he didn’t get all those tattoos at once. He’s probably had them for years. You think maybe she thought your mom wouldn’t approve?”
I shook my head, still feeling the effects of meeting Nicholas even as I set the flowers down at Madeline’s grave. “It was my first thought, but I don’t know. I don’t think my sister would’ve kept it from her. I keep nothing from my mom, and she says we had a lot in common, and with Madeline being the more open and outgoing one, I can’t imagine her keeping something that big from her.”
“So, you think your mom purposely kept this from you? Why would she?”
“That’s what I don’t understand.” I said, staring at my sister’s gravestone.
“Maggie?”
I turned up to look at Clarisse. Something in her eyes was already twinkling with excitement. “What?”
“You think maybe you both had boyfriends your mom didn’t approve of and that’s why she didn’t tell you about this guy? So it wouldn’t jog any memory?”
I stared at her as my breath caught. I hadn’t even thought of that. My mind raced, remembering how drawn I’d felt to Sam at that bar, that I was certain I wasn’t a virgin, and then the painting of the young couple.
“The motorcycle,” I said without thinking. “What if there was a guy in my past—one who could conjure up such profound emotions. Maybe he’d been a friend of Nicholas’s, someone like him, and that’s why seeing Nicholas had felt so emotional.”
“Oh, my God,” Clarisse gasped. “That could be it because, if you think he looked stunned, you should’ve seen the look on your face. C’mon, girl. We have a lot to dissect while we grab something to eat. I’m starving.
Chapter 8
As expected, we spent the whole evening and entire ride home the next day dissecting the possible reasons why Mama had never mentioned Nicolas. The one that made the most sense was she didn’t know of him. It was very feasible that Madeline might’ve been a rebel who’d been seeing him behind Mama’s back. But after all these years for him to still be hurting and admitting he’d never get over her, it was hard to believe he was just a secret boyfriend.
“His bringing his girlfriend to Madeline’s grave speaks volumes,” Clarisse insisted on the drive home. “That just tells me she really has no say in it one way or the other. I mean I know it’s been nearly seven years, and it’s not like he’s visiting his ex-girlfriend who’s still alive, but still. I don’t know if I’d be comfortable going to the cemetery with my boyfriend and witnessing just how not over her he is. I wonder if he’s even told her what he told us? That he’ll never get over Madeline and she just has to live with it?” She sighed deeply. “It’s so tragically romantic.”
Of course, I agreed it was but still felt uneasy about the whole thing. It was all too strange. Curiously, nothing came up when we Googled the name of the company on the card he’d handed me. It was some kind of screen printing and embroidery shop. The logo mimicked the M&M’s candies logo because it was the same font in lower case, only it read m&n’s. It even had a fem
ale green M&M wearing a leather jacket and holding up her thumb. But the only other writing aside from screen printing and embroidering was a number. I had to wonder if maybe it was a company he was just getting started since it was nowhere to be found online.
Clarisse was convinced he had something to do with whomever it was my heart had been yearning for all these years. Though for now I kept to myself what I’d begun to wonder: if I hadn’t secretly been in love with my sister’s boyfriend. What the guy had done to my heart, my insides, the way his gaze touched my soul, was unreal. There had to be more to this, and I could hardly wait to get home to talk to Mama.
Before I left, Mama had mentioned the date she’d be on today with a man she’d been seeing for a few weeks. She called it a day out with him, so I figured she’d be home by the evening when I got back.
Frustratingly, she wasn’t home when I finally did get there, which made the wait that much more unbearable. Clarisse had to get home but urged me to call her as soon as I knew something. I prayed Mama didn’t ask her date inside. It would’ve killed me to have to excuse myself to my room without being able to talk to her tonight. Fortunately, she was home in the next hour, and her date didn’t come in with her.
Being nosey, I watched the whole time from the window to see if she’d even kiss him. She did, but it was a quick one. “Oh, Mama,” I whispered with a frown as I watched her walk out of her car and toward the front door.
The front door was open, and she called out for me before even walking in. “Yes, I’m here.”
“Are you waiting up to be nosey?” she asked with a smirk as she walked in.
“It’s not that late,” I said, smiling big. “But, yes, and just a little peck, Mama? Really? That poor man’s blue balls are probably the size of bowling balls.”
Mama laughed, putting her purse down on the kitchen counter as I followed behind her. “How do you know we didn’t do more?”
Girl In The Mirror (Looking Glass Book 1) Page 7
