More Than Memories

by Kristen James

They took Trent’s midsize pickup and Molly recounted her day with Alicia and cautiously added, “She asked me what I plan to do, if I’m staying.”

  “Do you intend to return to California?” His voice held steady, but somehow she knew his insides weren’t.

  “I didn’t have plans, really. It’s hard to plan with so many things undecided. I know I want to figure all this out, see if I can remember my life here.” She couldn’t be truthful and tell him she was afraid to plan.

  “I guess that’s good enough for now.” He shifted the conversation. “Speaking of answers, I looked over the police record from Arnold and Ellen’s accident.”

  “And?”

  “Well, it really does look like an accident. But you seem to think otherwise?”

  She sighed. “I’ll admit I don’t have any reason to, not any proof anyway. It just seemed curious that I lost my memory and then that happened. I was mad and wanted someone to blame, but it still seems strange.”

  Trent nodded. They’d reached the city and slowed down to drive through traffic. She studied his profile in the fading daylight, wondering if she used to sit next to him in the middle seat when they were dating. Instead she asked, “What now?”

  “I think we’re starting from the wrong point.”

  “How’s that?” she asked.

  “Maybe we should go all the way back to when you disappeared. Tomorrow we can go to the station and go over the file on you. There are interviews of neighbors and friends that lived in Ridge City four years ago. We didn’t see anything there, but you might.”

  “But I don’t remember.”

  He pulled into the restaurant parking lot and shut off the engine. “You might.”

  “What if I don’t, then what?”

  Instead of answering her, he surprised her with a laugh. “Usually I’m the one asking all the questions. You used to tell me to forget the details.” Glancing at her, he went serious again. “I thought of that, too. Let’s go inside and talk about it.”

  Inside, Trent asked for a corner booth and the hostess took them past a gas fireplace to the back. The lights were dimmed and a hanging lamp shone a soft light down on their table, creating a cozy atmosphere. Molly ordered the drink she’d been wanting and looked through the menu. The waiter came before she decided, so many things sounded good. Trent ordered, then added, “I think she wants the salmon filet.”

  A small smile lit her face while one curious eyebrow rose. “I do.”

  The soft lighting, the country music, and the look in his eyes sent warm shivers through her, funny shivers that tickled and felt nice. Their eyes locked and it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. While looking at his adult face, she could see the little boy from her one memory. His face had been narrower then, like the rest of him.

  After a minute, she asked, “So what are your plans after going over the police interviews?”

  He leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I thought it’d be a good place to start, just to cover all our bases. I want to make sure we don’t miss anything that we might need later on. After that, I’d like to visit your home in California.”

  “Why?” she asked. “You think that’ll help?”

  “I want to talk to your neighbors there. I also wanted to ask you, did you keep your parents’ belongings?”

  “I haven’t packed their things away.” In fact, she hadn’t changed the house at all. “They didn’t unpack everything, though, from the move. Our basement has a file cabinet and tons of boxes. Everything’s still there.”

  “Good, we might find some answers.” He wouldn’t have hesitated asking Molly before, but now, without her memory, he felt unsure of himself. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Driving back down?”

  “You and I driving down and spending a few days there.”

  “Yes. I like the thought of a trip.” She did feel completely comfortable with the idea, liked the thought of spending more time with Trent, but knew clearly she wanted to come back to Ridge City. “Just a trip, down and back.”

  Trent nodded, a half smile on his face acknowledging her decision. Molly quieted. She was nagged by a question she was trying not to ask herself, but she had to ask someone. “How does it look to you? Do you think my parents were into something illegal?”

  “Illegal?” He looked surprised. He rubbed his hands together before saying, “Honestly? I’ve wondered if your parents disliked me enough to take off like that.”

  “They didn’t like you?” Now Molly felt surprised.

  “They did. At least, I thought so. However, when you said you were living in California, so close to here, and they didn’t even call, well, I just wondered.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” At least she didn’t for a minute. “What about when you became a cop?”

  Trent paused, his eyebrows raised. “can you explain that?”

  “Did their attitude toward you change when you became a cop?”

  “They knew from the start what I wanted to do. I made up my mind before high school even.”

  “Hmmm.” She took a big drink of her wine. “And when you actually became a cop?”

  “I didn’t notice a change.”

  This line of thinking could lead somewhere, and that was the problem. Neither pushed it. She expected their food soon and told Trent, “Now that tomorrow’s decided, let’s forget about planning and worrying and just enjoy tonight.”

  He raised his glass to that just as their food arrived. Halfway through the meal, she asked him, “So when are you going to tell me about you and me?”

  He had to chew his steak for a minute and then swallowed hard. Trent looked like he wanted to tell her, but said, “I thought we weren’t going to worry about all that.”

  “And when do I get to see your house?” Her question stopped him. She knew she needed to see it more than ever. “I can’t help but wonder what we had . . . or why I left it.”

  “I can’t answer all of that,” he said.

  “The first part you can. You remember. I don’t.”

  “Do I need to explain?” he asked in a shaky voice filled with echoes of hurt and unanswered questions. She knew what he meant.

  Chapter Six

  Trent called Mark and woke him up at six the next morning, but he didn’t think his friend would complain when a friend needed him. He also knew Mark’s alarm was set for six thirty anyway.

  “The idea about California went over pretty good.” Trent paused and sighed as he sat down, thankful for Mark. They’re friendship remained easy despite the fact that Mark had a thing for Bev, who kept chasing Trent. Trent pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on Molly. “But she wants to see my house.”

  “So take her.”

  “It’s the pictures, you know.” He could put away all the things that hinted at their life together, but that felt dishonest.

  He heard Mark yawn. “Maybe they’ll help. Haven’t you told her?”

  “Oh, she knows. And it’s not just about what we used to have.”

  “Really?” Mark sounded more awake. They talked quite a bit about how to deal with being alone. Mark didn’t like the single life, not anymore, and Trent had never wanted to be single. “Old fires stirring?”

  “I guess you could say that.” Trent drank his coffee standing by the window, looking out at the yard and the roses Molly had planted five years before. She’d been so excited about the house, starting a life together.

  Mark took advantage of his friend’s silence and said, “So is the trip about finding out what happened or about a trip with Molly?”

  “And your question is?”

  “I see.” Mark laughed. “Always practical and taking care of two things at once.”

  “No, that’s where you’re wrong. I just want to be with her. I can’t let her out of my sight this time.”

  “Hey, man, don’t worry. Something like that doesn’t happen twice.”

  Trent paused, too long this time.

  Mark finally asked, “Why are you
worried?”

  “Well, we don’t know why she left.” Trent finished his coffee and took his cup to the kitchen.

  Mark finally found an answer. “Her whole family ran. It wasn’t you, Trent. I think you’re letting Judy get to you, too.”

  “Thanks, but we’ll find out.” He told Mark he’d be by the station with Molly sometime that day and hung up.

  On the Internet’s yellow pages, he learned Arnold and Ellen Anderson didn’t list their number in California, possibly more proof that they were hiding. Or maybe they just didn’t want to be bothered. He found it interesting that their number in Ridge City hadn’t been listed, either. He grabbed the phone and called Mark’s cell.

  “Can you do me a favor and find out who was listed on the deed to the houses the Andersons owned?” he asked, hearing the distinct sound of Mark’s front door slamming shut.

  “Onto something?”

  “Maybe. Just a hunch. They never listed their numbers, and Molly sparked my curiosity when she asked if I thought her parents were into something illegal.” He gave Mark the address of Molly’s house in California.

  “Well, Trent, that’s one possibility, but not all people on the run did something illegal.”

  He hoped her parents were clean for her sake. Trent knew Molly had enough to deal with, but Molly’s idea would make sense. It’s possible they felt they needed to run because Molly was dating a cop who would eventually find out their secret. He grimaced. Going to spend the rest of her life with a cop.

  Mark asked, “So we’re going on the assumption they were on the run?”

  “I think it’s a strong likelihood.” Trent made a few notes of his own in his notebook. After ending the call, Trent wondered if he should call Molly or just show up. It was seven thirty. He decided not to bother her yet, so he mowed the lawn, started laundry, and picked up the house in case he did let Molly come see it. On his way to the front door, he walked slowly and scanned his home, trying to do so through Molly’s eyes. Wouldn’t some of this bring back memories? He headed out a little before nine in khakis and a thick, brown shirt. He didn’t want to mess with a sweater even if it was chilly outside.

  Trent caught sight of Molly as he pulled into her hotel parking lot. She was returning from a walk, he guessed, in jeans and a raincoat. He caught sight of a red silky shirt underneath. That girl always looked vibrant with a splash of red, whether on her lips, her nails, or her clothes. She could pull it off looking both sexy and refined.

  He pulled the truck up slowly so he wouldn’t startle her and rolled down the window.

  “Hey there pretty lady, need a ride?” He greeted her with a smile.

  “Well, I usually don’t take rides from strangers, but you are cute.”

  He didn’t get called cute a lot, but he’d take that from Molly. She went around to the passenger side and hopped in.

  “Off to the station?” she asked.

  “If you’re ready.”

  She nodded and he turned the truck around. At their destination, Trent opened the door for her, and she commented, “I’ve never been in a police station before.” She glanced sideways at him. “Or have I?”

  He laughed and shook his head. She didn’t need Trent’s affirmation to know she’d probably visited this one many times before. Inside, they found Mark easily by spotting his curly hair. They pulled up two chairs at his request. “Molly, does the name Cindy Dean mean anything to you? Someone you knew or your parents talked about?”

  Immediately she looked questioningly at Trent. He explained what he’d been thinking that morning, and how she’d given him the idea. She repeated the name and said, “I’m not sure if it sounds familiar or not. Who is she?”

  “The house in California belonged to her before it came to you after your parents passed away. They must have known her, but I can’t find an address or number for her now.”

  Trent wrote the information down in his notebook. “We might find something when we look in that file cabinet you told me about. For now, maybe we’ll get something out of the records we have here.”

  That said, Trent took Molly to his desk and they opened her file. They each took several interviews and started reading.

  “Wow.” She said several minutes later. “The police did talk to every neighbor, friend, and person who knew my family or saw us the last week we were here.”

  “But no one knew much about your parents’ history before they moved to Ridge City.”

  She enjoyed working together with Trent and noticed him glance at her once in a while, usually catching her eying him. Forgetting she was in a police station, she felt the urge to touch him, to reach over and put her hand on his arm and see how he reacted. She reminded herself not to rush things.

  After an hour of reading, she knew more about her parents than they had ever told her, but wasn’t sure if any of it would help her regain her memory.

  “So,” she said when she saw Trent take a break from the paper in front of him, “They came to Ridge City in February of 1990 with a little girl, bought a house, settled in, and were pretty quiet but did eventually get involved in the community. But no one seemed to know much about their past except that they were sweethearts in college.”

  “Good summary,” he pointed out. “And I have to say there’s not much about them to draw attention. I did find out their marriage certificate was issued in Reno, so they could have driven in from anywhere.”

  Their conversation paused while his eyes looked glazed, as if Trent also forgot where they were. Several minutes seemed to pass. He said, “Well, maybe we should think about driving down to your house in California. How much more time did you want to spend here?”

  “I—” Molly didn’t have an answer. “I want to know the truth, I’m just ….”

  “You can come back here. There’s nothing to fear down there, Mol. Whatever we find, I’ll help you through it.”

  She felt pulled between the desire to stay a while, get to know Trent’s friends better, and the need to find the truth and possibly remember them. “I guess we could leave tomorrow if that’s alright with you.”

  She had to look away to calm herself. Thinking of leaving struck panic in her, and she realized she was afraid she wouldn’t come back, like last time. Only this time she would have Trent with her.

  They left the station without much new information, but Trent wasn’t too worried. He wanted to cover everything and take things slow, hoping she’d remember. On the other hand, he didn’t want her to remember too much, too soon. He wanted her to adjust as things came back to her. One other reason existed that he didn’t want to come to their answers too soon – he didn’t know what happened four years ago to make her run.

  Something happened to make her lose her memory, something probably involving her parents. He hoped it wasn’t something involving him, though he couldn’t see how that was possible. Because he loved her so much, he worried. He didn’t want to lose her again.

  “Awe, it’s raining.” She yanked up her hood as they stepped outside.

  “Give it a minute, it’ll stop.” He took her arm and they hurried to the truck. His hat kept him mostly dry, and once they were inside, the rain stopped. “See. The weather’s never predictable in the spring, but it changes enough to please everyone.” Something about his comment made him stop and think about their situation, but he pushed aside his worries. Life is full of stress and he just needed to keep going until they figured some of this out.

  As they passed her hotel, Molly asked where they were headed.

  “It’s just the mill pond on the edge of town, but we went there all the time.” He felt grateful as the sun came through the clouds and brightened the day. When he glanced over, the sun sparkled on her hair. He parked by the road and they got out. “Do you mind walking?”

  “Not at all.” She smiled and he noticed she hadn’t covered her freckles with make-up today. She wore lip gloss, making her red lips shine and her amazing smile stand out even more. Her long black hair s
hone in the sun, hanging in loose curls down her shoulders.

  He surprised himself by holding out his hand, but then again it was habit. She took it and asked, “We used to hold hands and walk through here?”

  He nodded, almost jumping at the feel of her hand in his. They’d been so careful not to touch since they saw each other that first day. He had put that space between them, knowing he was a stranger to her, and also knowing how he would react to touching her again. Just like before, her hand fit into his as they entwined their fingers. She didn’t seem to think twice about it.

  The path they walked on beside the small pond had been formed over the years by all the people taking walks here. Blackberry briars grew on one side of the path with new green leaves while cattails stuck up out of the water on the other side. Bushes were covered in buds, promises of things to come, and small spring flowers were blooming in clumps.

  “Red winged black birds.” Molly’s eyes looked above them where the small birds flew, trying to catch the red under their wings. “I haven’t heard them in a while. They sound so pretty.”

  “Have you remembered anything else?” He didn’t add besides the kiss. He didn’t want to mention the word ‘kiss’ to her.

  She huffed out a breath, a signature Molly sign of frustration. “No, but I think I’ve been trying too hard. When I remembered the flowers, I wasn’t trying at all. It just was suddenly in my head, like I knew about it all along.”

  Their slow pace stopped altogether and they stood facing each other. Her brown eyes shone as she looked up into his face, her lips slightly parted. Her eyes had always been so expressive, usually holding laughter and a joy of life, and sometimes turning darker with anger or hurt. He especially loved her curious look that somehow appeared mischievous at the same time. Now her eyes searched his, looked over his face, lingered on his mouth, and returned to his eyes asking him an unspoken question.

  Her roaming eyes sent heat throughout him. He felt the need to dance around as if he stood on hot coals. His hand went to her face, his fingertips touching her cheekbone and his palm holding her jaw, where he always thought his hand molded perfectly. She leaned into his hand, her eyelids fluttering, but she kept her eyes open to look at him. She had such long, sweeping eyelashes.