You Will Remember Me

by Hannah Mary McKinnon

  Lily smiled. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

  * * *

  An hour later we walked out of the hardware store with some of the supplies we needed, plus an order form for the larger items we couldn’t fit in her car, and which would be delivered to the house in the morning. It had been another strange experience, going through the shelves in the store and knowing exactly what I needed, and how to work with it, yet not remembering how I knew. Lily was right. I needed to chill, and with her here, it felt surprisingly easy. Trying to force my brain to work so hard was counterproductive. Dr. Adler had said multiple times I should slow down, and while I knew it would be impossible for me to physically sit still, at least I could give my brain a rest.

  “I appreciate your help with everything,” I said to Lily as we loaded up the car, “and I know Maya will, too. She’s really excited about having the garage done so she can work in there all year. She’s hoping to make more sculptures and eventually cut her shifts at the Cliff’s Head.”

  “I’m happy to help. Was Maya always into art? Do you know?”

  “Apparently, she was all set to go to the Maine College of Art in Portland, but when my father died, she derailed a little.” I didn’t want to betray Maya’s confidence about what she’d told me, how desperate she’d been, how happy and thankful when I’d given up studying economics, which had apparently been my lifelong dream, and came back here so she wasn’t alone. She’d cried when she’d told me how she felt guilty about holding me back, how she thought it could be the reason why I’d left Newdale after all. Me already in my thirties and her not far behind, both of us still living together in the family home. And then I’d gone off on one last night and told her she was suffocating me. Good job, Ash.

  Back at the house we unloaded the supplies. “What do you fancy doing now?” I said, hoping Lily wouldn’t tell me she wanted to go back to the motel or had other plans.

  “I’m happy to check out the beach if you’re still game. Only, fair warning, I didn’t exactly pack with that kind of trip in mind and I’d imagine it’ll be freezing, but I’ll go for a dip in my underwear if you will. Unless you think we’ll freak out the locals?”

  I grinned. “Either way, it’s a deal.”

  We drove with the windows down, the radio playing softly in the background. If I tried hard enough, I could almost pretend it was a normal day, the first one in ages. I glanced at Lily, and when she caught me doing so, smiled broadly.

  “You okay?” she said.

  Was I okay? Things felt better, somehow. More new and distinctive memories had come back. I’d been able to plan the renovation for the garage without any trouble, put in an order without becoming confused, and now I was spending time with Lily.

  “I’m okay,” I said, reaching over to hold her hand.

  We figured out the general direction of the coast before stopping to ask one of the locals for the nearest recommendation. He sent us to Sandy Point Bridge, where the tide wasn’t quite in yet, and the beach a combination of pebbles, sandbanks, mud and grass, but hardly any people. Lily and I walked along the shore for a little while, the water squelching beneath our toes.

  “This’ll do,” she said, unzipping her jeans. “Last one in’s a loser.” With a whoop she pulled off her shirt and ran to the water shouting something that sounded like, “Towanda!”

  I let my gaze wander over her lithe legs, her turquoise boy-shorts and matching bra, her long hair swish-swishing behind her. Everything around me faded, took me back to somewhere in my past. An image of her at a different beach, the sound of her laughing and yelling at me to hurry, except she’d called me Jack. The picture faded only to be replaced by another of us on a squishy blue sofa, watching one of her favorite movies. As the images faded and I came back to reality, I heard Lily calling me again, using my real name.

  “Wait,” I shouted. “Lily, wait. Hold on.”

  “What’s the matter?” she said, standing calf-deep in the water, her face falling.

  “Towanda,” I said, wading in, ignoring the frigid temperatures and my anxiety about being back in the ocean. “Towanda,” I repeated, softly this time as I touched the bracelet on her wrist, the one with the heart-shaped charm I’d carefully hidden inside a box of chocolates. “I remember this. And the film about those fried tomatoes. I remember...you.”

  We stared at each other before I pulled her to my chest, held her close as her hands slid up my back, arms looping around my neck. I bent my head toward hers. Our kiss was soft, cautious, and although I didn’t want to, I made myself pull away after a few seconds.

  “That was wrong,” I said. “I shouldn’t have...”

  She pulled me back in and kissed me again, with more intensity and urgency this time, her hands cupping my face, her mouth open, her tongue gently searching for mine. A voice somewhere in the distance shouted, “Get a room, you two.”

  Lily laughed and let me go. “That was...nice,” she whispered.

  I raised an eyebrow, putting a hand to my chest. “Nice? I’d better up my game.”

  She laughed again and grabbed my hand, pulling me deeper into the water, our arms wrapping around one another again. It wasn’t warm enough for us to stay in long, and we soon headed back to our belongings, where we sat shoulder to shoulder on one of the rocks, watching the waves creep closer, her hand in mine.

  “I haven’t felt this happy since before you went missing,” she said, pushing her wet hair out of her face, leaning in to me. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this again.”

  I knew what she meant, except it wasn’t only happiness, but excitement about the future, too. Although she and I had barely spent any time together it seemed Dr. Adler had been right, Lily could well hold the key to my memories, more than anything or anyone else. While I didn’t want to put that kind of burden on her, I didn’t want her to leave Newdale, either, and not only because of her potential to unlock my mind. I wanted to spend more time with her, get to know her again, but last night she’d said she’d have to go back to Brookmount soon because she was running out of cash. I couldn’t go with her. Lily had told me I’d recently been made redundant from my job, and I wasn’t about to take off for Maryland without any kind of income, or a place to stay. And then there was my being unable to abandon Maya again, but the thought of Lily leaving Newdale, and me being stuck here out of obligation more than anything else made my jaw clench.

  Oblivious to everything that was going on inside my head, Lily pulled out her phone. “Let me take a picture of us,” she said, pressing her cheek against mine, “so we can remember this day as a new beginning.” I leaned in, feeling her soft skin against my stubble as she took a photo. “Crap, I blinked,” she said, swiping her finger across the screen, and I put my hand over hers as I stared at the photo of a blue Dodge Charger.

  “Is that yours?” I said, my heart racing, throat running dry.

  She shook her head. “No. It kept driving past your apartment one day...”

  Her voice trailed off as a new memory surged into the forefront of my mind. I was in a parking lot by a beach, sea salt filling the air, a steady breeze blowing. When I heard a yell, I turned around to see a man coming toward me. Tall and wiry with a scar above his eyebrow.

  “You cheated, you motherfucker,” he shouted.

  “You lost, pal. Deal with it.”

  “I want a rematch. I need to win my money back.”

  “No chance. I told you from the beginning, one game only and I’m out.”

  He took another step toward me, snarled, “That’s not how this works.”

  “It’s exactly how this works. Take it up with the cops, see what they make of your side hustle. We’re done here.”

  As I turned and took a step in the direction of the shore, his fist connected with the side of my head, and the surprise attack sent me to the ground. Before I could get up, he shoved his f
oot onto the middle of my back, and when he struck me in the head again, I felt a blinding pain, white stars blurring my vision. I heard a dull thud, squinted at the rock that had landed a foot away. When I managed to focus enough, I saw the rock was smeared with blood. My blood.

  “We’re not done, you asshole,” the man said, his voice and everything else fading around me. “Not until I get my money.”

  “Ash?” Lily put a hand on my arm. “Ash? Are you all right?”

  My heart continued to race and I opened my mouth to tell her, imagined saying I thought I’d remembered what had happened on the beach the night I’d gone missing. Some shady guy had struck me, possibly dragged my body into the water and left me to die. I couldn’t tell her that. Not when I didn’t know for sure if it was the truth or another montage my brain had made up. Besides, I didn’t like what any of it said about the kind of person I’d been.

  “Did you just remember something?” Lily said, her hand still on my arm.

  “I thought so,” I lied, “but no, nothing.”

  “Are you sure, you look—”

  “Hey, you two.” Neither of us had noticed Fiona approach. She now stood in front of us, an overstuffed yellow-and-white-striped beach bag in hand, a pair of large green sunglasses perched on her nose. With a wide smile dancing on her lips, she said, “Having fun?”

  “Very much so,” Lily answered. “How are you?”

  “Excellent, thanks,” Fiona said. “Enjoying my afternoon off. How’s your memory?”

  “A little better. A lot, actually.”

  “That’s good.” She hesitated. “Uh, I don’t want to intrude, but could I talk to you in private for a minute, Ash? It won’t take long.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I got up, suddenly self-conscious of the fact I was wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. “I’ll be right back,” I said to Lily as I pulled on my jeans and followed Fiona, my mind buzzing with the memory of the man on the beach, and the possibilities about what else I was about to discover.

  26

  ASH

  Fiona kept walking, and I presumed she wanted to get out of Lily’s earshot, which didn’t exactly fill me with confidence in what I was about to hear.

  “What’s going on?” I said as I caught up to her. “If this has anything to do with Lily or Keenan—”

  Fiona stopped and turned. “Keenan? Jesus, he hasn’t come back to see you, has he?”

  “No. I haven’t talked to him since he was at the house.”

  “Okay, good. There’s something else I need to tell you.” She hesitated, took a breath before continuing. “It might be nothing, and I don’t want to be a tattletale, but...do you remember a guy called Dave Decato?” I didn’t answer and she sighed. “It would’ve been easier if you did. Okay...when your dad passed, Maya went off the deep end...”

  “She told me,” I said, my familial defenses and protective instincts rising. “I think it was completely understandable. She went through a lot back then.”

  “You both did,” Fiona said quickly. “But this Dave guy? He’s a dealer. A sneaky little son of a bitch who somehow manages to fly right by the cops’ radar without ever getting caught. Anyway, I saw Maya with him the other day.”

  “Are you sure? Where?”

  “The old cemetery. It could’ve been nothing, or a coincidence they were there at the same time, or... I just thought you should know. Listen, she was into weed back then and it’s legal here now, but you may still want to have a talk with her, check if—”

  Something came flying in our direction, and before I had time to react a soccer ball bounced off the back of Fiona’s skull. She cried out and dropped her bag, spilling the contents across the ground. I crouched down, helped her pick up her things as the ball’s owner, a little girl with a smattering of freckles and two missing front teeth, ran over.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” she said, turning deep red. “I really, really, really didn’t mean to.”

  Fiona laughed. “It’s okay, I’m fine. Quite the kick you’ve got there.”

  “Thanks,” the girl said with a giggle, grabbing her ball and speeding away.

  I turned to Fiona. “Look, I appreciate you telling me about Maya. I’ll figure out what’s going on.”

  She nodded. “I’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself, and Lily. She’s lovely, and I hope you don’t mind my saying, but I’m rooting for you guys. You look happy together.”

  She gave me another nod, and as she walked away, something multicolored and sparkly by my feet caught my eye. It was a postcard, a glittery picture of a monarch butterfly. I picked it up and turned it over, saw the Boston postmark from years ago. I read the handwritten message, the letters full of loops and swirls.

  Dear Fiona and Keenan,

  I’m in Boston and everything’s fine, but I don’t think I’ll ever come back. Take care of each other.

  Love,

  Celine xoxo

  I reread the note again, the realization of what I held in my hands making my heart soar. This was the confirmation I’d needed to confront my darkest thoughts. Whether I remembered it or not, this was proof Celine had decided not to come home of her own accord. Maybe I’d encouraged her to leave, yes, but who wouldn’t have, considering her father beat her on a regular basis and her mother did nothing to stop it? Keenan had it all wrong. It wasn’t my fault.

  As I read the words again, and then a third time seeking even more reassurance, an uncomfortable sinking feeling I couldn’t place, nor understand, pulled at my stomach. I turned the card over to look at the front picture again and something darted through my mind. Butterflies. Butterflies of all shapes, sizes and colors, hundreds of them, so vivid it felt as if I could catch one with my bare hands.

  I called out to Fiona, and when she turned around and saw what I held between my fingers, her face fell. She rushed back and I gave her the postcard, an inexplicable feeling of relief invading my soul as she took it from me.

  She clasped it to her chest. “My bookmark! I don’t know what I’d do if I lost it.”

  “It’s from Celine,” I said, my voice sounding shaky and uncertain.

  “It arrived a year after she left,” she said. “I showed you as soon as it arrived and... Of course, you can’t remember. I should’ve thought to share it with you again. I’m an idiot.”

  “Did Celine ever send anything else?”

  “No. She hasn’t written or called since. This postcard is the last we heard from her.”

  I nodded. “Celine loved butterflies.”

  “Yes.” Fiona smiled. “They were her favorite thing in the world, aside from you. You took her to the butterfly gardens once. She talked about it for weeks, before and after.” She pulled out her phone, flicked through her photos, held out the screen. It was an old, grainy picture of Celine. In it she wore a light blue summer dress, her long dark hair tied up in a ponytail, her head tilted back, the delight of a full-on laugh captured on her face. She seemed so young, so carefree and happy. Fiona zoomed in on her sister’s neck, and I watched as a silver-and-amethyst butterfly pendant filled the screen.

  “You bought it for her that day,” she said. “She loved that necklace. Never took it off. Not once. I bet you she still hasn’t.”

  “You must miss her very much.”

  “Every day. I don’t understand why she never contacted you again. We were all hoping she would, even if she didn’t call us, but... I don’t know... She was young, impressionable. Maybe she was too scared because she thought we’d find her through you. Perhaps she got mixed up with the wrong crowd.” She let out a huge sigh before a smile settled on her face. “Or maybe she’s sipping cocktails on a beach a lot farther south than this one. Believe me, I’ve googled and combed every social media platform for years without any luck. I do everything I can to imagine her sitting in the sunshine, deliriously happy, because the hardest thing is not knowing.
”

  “I understand completely.”

  She patted my arm. “Of course. Anyway, I’d better get going.”

  After saying our goodbyes, I walked back to Lily, and when she asked me if everything was okay, I hesitated. It didn’t feel right to tell her about Maya and this Dave character, not before I’d spoken to my sister about him. Fiona’s suspicions could be unfounded, or a complete misunderstanding.

  “She showed me a postcard,” I said. “Celine sent it from Boston about a year after she left, saying she wouldn’t be back. They haven’t heard from her since.”

  Lily shook her head. “I can understand a little how she must feel, having someone they love disappear like that.” She paused, reached over to touch my cheek as she smiled. “I got lucky. Maybe Fiona will, too, and Celine will come home one day.”

  Not long after, we gathered our things and walked back to the car, our arms brushing lightly until I reached for Lily’s hand. “Thank you for this,” I said. “For making today feel almost normal.”

  “You’re welcome. I had a great time. That little girl with the ball could have given you a run for your money. I bet your dad would have joined in, too.”

  “Even though he hated it,” I said with a laugh.

  “What? No, that’s not true. You told me you guys played all the time when you were in England. You’d go to the local park. You called them your ‘Sunday Kickabouts.’ And you always watched matches together.”

  “Yeah, until he finally confessed he hated everything to do with the sport and couldn’t bear admitting it because I loved it so much.”

  Maya had grinned when she’d explained how Dad’s revelation had turned into a standing joke at the house, with him groaning and moaning whenever I turned on a match. In the end he’d always sat down next to me for the whole thing anyway. I couldn’t recall that part. The memory had been swallowed up by the abyss along with so many other things.

  “You never shared that with me,” Lily said, looking down.