Remember Me

by Roxanne Tully

  Matt chuckled, but he hated where this was going.

  “Obviously, if Liz doesn’t feel comfortable, then you don’t have to come, but if she wants to, you can’t keep her from coming,” Megan paused. “We’re her family too.” She kept her gaze on him, undoubtedly to make sure he understood her terms.

  Matt shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. “Okay.”

  “I know I said I didn’t remember, but…I remember it as if it were moments ago.” She strolled around the space, twining her fingers. Her voice was casual, but he could hear the slightest shake in it. “I said something along the lines of ‘I told you so’, which Liz expected and made fun of, and although we were in fact laughing to tears, I knew hers were…sad.”

  Matt caught a glimpse of Megan’s sympathy and wanted to tell her never to feel sorry for his wife. But he withheld, reminding himself she needed to tell him what happened.

  “That’s when I said it. Something stupid…I wasn’t even thinking…”

  “Megan,” Matt pressed.

  “I said I really hope Matt does forgive you, because I can’t imagine having this much fun with anyone else,” she blurted.

  Matt frowned and glared at her.

  “I mean I didn’t even think anything of it. It was a meaningless statement.” Megan added defensively. “It wasn’t until I saw the look on her face—the idea of you being with someone else—just downright plagued her.”

  Meaningless statement that nearly killed his wife. The woman who had cared so deeply for him that she lost control and then her mind at the thought of losing him to someone else. Regardless of losing her parents in recent years, contact with her brother, and having to live with a mistake she made out of grief, Liz still managed to be a full spirited and bright person. Her heart, still wide open despite tragedy in her adult life. She managed to keep six and seven-year old’s happy and excited to learn every day. Yet one stupid comment from this woman and she’d nearly lost it all.

  “Is that when she crashed?” His voice coarse.

  “Not exactly. She started crying a fresh set of tears and asked me to call you guys—I guess to distract me from feeling sorry for her.”

  He knew it. It was the blurred vision that made her crash. As much as he wanted to blame Megan for it, it wasn’t entirely her fault. Maybe not at all.

  It was unquestionably his.

  Megan glanced at Matt. No longer carrying the same I’ll outsmart you any day look on her face that she was when they were making their deal. Now she just looked defeated and remorseful.

  Matt turned away from her and walked to his window. It was time for his end of the deal. And for Megan to leave. “Tell my mother we’ll be there on Saturday.”

  Chapter 26

  LIZ

  Matt wasn’t kidding when he said it was going to be hot. A scorching ninety-two degrees. He also wasn’t joking when he told her she doesn’t run. There had been no sign of any jogging clothes in the closet or dresser. But there was no way she was backing out. She had found a pair of black and silver leggings and a pink sports bra. She met Matt downstairs, and they both downed a cold bottle of water before heading out.

  After jogging for nearly twenty minutes, Liz was out of breath and sweating. Feeling the strain in her calves, she slowed down and took a deep breath before halting and resting her hands on her knees.

  Matt stopped and turned back to her, jogging in place. “Oh come on, we just started.”

  She glanced up, and as expected, found his “I told you so” smirk. “I didn’t…say…I was stopping,” Liz rasped out.

  “Okay, good. We’ve got another thirty minutes ahead, and then we’ll turn back.”

  Liz squinted up at him, wondering at what point he’d start to break a sweat. With her hands still on her knees, she managed to get more words out. “And then we’ll turn back?” She stood, rolling her eyes. “Okay. You win. I can’t do this. I’m not even comfortable in these clothes.” She motioned her arms down her body.

  A slow smile crept up his face. Matt stopped his jog and reached for her hand. “Come on.” He walked her ahead about half a block before they reached a small coffee shop. It was incredibly tiny, with only a narrow entrance door and small window for ordering. There were two small round metal tables outside with matching chairs.

  Matt approached the closed window. A young kid with strawberry blond hair and overly tanned skin opened it. Liz breathed in the incredibly cool burst of air that quickly emerged from the small window. “Two lemonades, please.”

  “Two lemonades.” The guy repeated before disappearing behind the counter.

  Matt turned to Liz and brushed away a few soaking strands of hair from her face.

  “We taking a break?” Liz asked, glancing at the chairs.

  “Not exactly,” he turned back to the window. “Besides you wouldn’t want to sit on those piping hot metal chairs right now.”

  The kid reappeared with the drinks. “Five dollars.”

  “Thanks, Tyler.”

  Liz eyed the pale cool drink in her husband’s hands before he handed her one. She took a long sip of the sweet and tangy liquid refreshment. It wasn’t until she gulped down her second long sip that she noticed Matt grinning at her.

  “This is really good,” Liz inhaled deep for air, “but I don’t think this is going to help me run back another twenty minutes.”

  He flashed her an all-knowing smile, his eyes a bright green in the sunlight. He put an arm around her, and she leaned into his warm, solid body. “We’re not running. Come on,” he nodded ahead, “our place is around the corner, just a five-minute walk or so.”

  She glanced back to the direction they came from. “What? We just made a huge circle?” Liz narrowed her eyes at him. “You really had no faith in me.”

  Matt raised an eyebrow.

  “Hmm.” She held out her hand to him.

  Liz took another long refreshing sip and looked around the neighborhood. She liked the town they lived in. It was clean and just the right amount of neighborhood bustling. The streets they jogged mainly had cookie cutter townhomes resembling the one they lived in. The business section of the neighborhood seemed small, primarily consisting of small shops like a cafe, deli, barber shop, pet shop, and the ice-cream and lemonade boutique.

  “Did you grow up here?”

  “Huh?”

  “Are you from this town?”

  “Oh, no. My brother and I were born and raised on Long Island, not in the house they live in now, but nearby.”

  Liz nodded and took a longer sip of her half empty drink. “So what was the occasion for us visiting that weekend?”

  Something dark appeared in Matt’s expression, quickly shifting from cool to cold.

  “It was the Fourth of July weekend,” he answered blankly and stared ahead.

  Liz’s eyes popped and she automatically shined a smile. “Oh, how nice.” Liz frowned. “I’m sorry I missed the fireworks.”

  “Oh, you didn’t miss much, my dad’s fireworks are nothing to be impressed about, he gets the discounted version and it never lasts longer than fifteen minutes or so.”

  This had been the first time it appeared that her husband was rambling. It confused her at first, but then after listening to him for another moment, she smiled at the presumption that he didn’t want her to feel like she’d missed out. She smiled at his thoughtfulness.

  “Must have been a disappointing weekend.”

  “Uneventful, I’d say.” Matt pursed his lips and cocked to the side.

  Liz nodded in response. “Except for…losing your wife,” she added comically, though not finding anything funny about it.

  Matt stopped and turned to her. An unidentifiable expression on his face. Maybe regret? After a short moment, he seemed to recover and answered, “Lucky for me, I got an exact replica.”

  Chapter 27

  MATT

  Matt sat out on the balcony sipping black coffee while Liz was in the shower. He wanted so badly to jump in there with
her. The sweat beads that trickled down her neck during their run made it devastatingly hard to resist. But he had to. He needed to take a minute, disconnect and think.

  It was getting out of hand. He knew it.

  Why did it seem like every innocent question she asked, could lead to questions that were impossible to answer? He set his coffee mug down and rubbed his forehead. His heart started racing at the sudden fear of what he was going to do if she never recovered. He couldn’t focus on never having Lizzy back. His mind wouldn’t even enter that existence. He only allowed himself to focus on the pressure of having to live this lie. It overpowered him, making him lose all rational thought.

  Annoyed by reminders from the doctor’s voicemails to be honest with her to avoid negative setbacks.

  He exhaled slowly, trying to regain control. But it was impossible. He couldn’t get thoughts of her out his head. And they were random as hell. Flashes of his real wife mixed with the woman who didn’t remember being her. Every smile, laugh, cry, plead. Every covered emotion when she’d considered telling him but decided it was better off to keep lying.

  How is this different?

  Dammit. He had to stop comparing the situation. It wasn’t the same. It just wasn’t. He was protecting her well-being. He wanted to call the good doctor and tell him the whole story. Then ask him what he would do if it were his wife. His love. His everything. He couldn’t imagine how breaking the innocent woman’s heart would fix everything.

  Maybe those weren’t the doctor’s words exactly, but supposedly, it was a step in the right direction. No, he refused to believe it. He could do this without help.

  Still, he couldn’t shake the place in his heart, no matter how small it might have been, that connected with the Liz from three years ago. The woman who made a solid choice to keep a lie. How could he be sympathizing with the woman who lied and betrayed? It wasn’t right. She was clearly putting a spell on him. Her new innocence was making him lose his mind.

  They are not the same person.

  He was on the verge of coming out of his skin when the balcony door opened. Her brilliant and familiar smile easing him almost instantly. She sat on the other side of the table, wearing denim shorts and a white blouse.

  “You win,” she smirked.

  “I usually do. But how so this time?” It was as if the last few minutes in his mind never happened when she smiled at him.

  “I don’t run. I will leave you to your morning routine, and no longer interfere.” She held her hands up as if to concede.

  “That’s too bad, I enjoyed having you with me,” he admitted.

  “You enjoyed making fun of me.”

  “All the same.” His smirk faded after a moment. “By the way, I wanted to ask you if you’d like to go visit my parents beach house this weekend. They don’t typically see us throughout the year except on holidays, so they want to squeeze as much out of our summer as they can.” He wasn’t sure who that excuse was for. Liz sure wouldn’t need it. She’d been asking to “meet” his parents for weeks.

  As expected, Liz beamed. “I would love that.” For a moment, it looked like there was more she wanted to say, but then decided against it and leaned back in her chair.

  Matt smiled and finished his coffee. “It will only be for an afternoon and then we’d leave after dinner.” He was letting it be known that there was no way they’d be spending the night there again. And he’d tell his mother the same. The minimal amount of effort to appease her.

  Chapter 28

  LIZ

  Francis and Robert Owen lived in a ranch-style beach house on Long Island. The interior wasn’t spectacular, but it was cozy. What Liz loved most was the back porch, dark wood planks surrounded by a birchwood fence. A few short steps led straight to the beach, the last one buried in sand. Liz could have stayed out there for hours. But she and Francis only stayed long enough for her mother-in-law to show her the view and her plants.

  Liz appreciated how hard the couple tried to make her feel safe and welcome. Francis had insisted it was exciting because she felt like she’d made a new friend and all her stories will be “brand-new”. Mr. Owen Senior, at no surprise to Liz, talked about his boat, Sydney.

  And then there were Ben and Megan, who mainly kept to themselves. Or rather, Megan on her phone for work-related reasons and Ben appearing utterly busy around the house. For someone who once insisted that they were pretty close, Ben hardly said three words to Liz since they got in that afternoon.

  For the tenth time since she’d woken from the accident, Liz could feel something was being hidden from her. The more time she spent with Matt, the more she noticed subtle changes in his moods. There were times when he’d look at her as if she were truly his everything. It was undeniable how much he loved her. But her doubts, the few she still had, weren’t unwarranted. They were valid. There were unmistakable glimpses of hurt and anger in Matt’s eyes. Noticeable changes in his tone when she questioned or asked about something specific about their life together. She couldn’t be sure. But in those brief flashes of fury in his eyes, she could swear she was being accused of something. She may have lost her memories, but she wasn’t blind.

  Maybe it was because he missed his wife. His Lizzy. Perhaps he was blaming her for keeping his wife away. Or maybe the other way around, and he’s frustrated at Lizzy for refusing to “come back”.

  And she would come back.

  Liz had accepted that she would live this life temporarily, until she got her memories back and then maybe things would make sense to her. Or she would just disappear into non-existence, where she felt like she’d come from.

  “That’s enough of the cucumbers dear, thank you.” Francis broke into her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she was still chopping away.

  “Of course. Are they thick enough?”

  “They’re perfect,” the woman answered with barely a glance at the sliced vegetable.

  “I’m sorry, I was a little distracted, I guess.” Liz wouldn’t shy away from opening up to the only mother she’d known. And Francis seemed like the type of person to appreciate it.

  “Oh I’ve been known to let my mind wander while I’m in the kitchen,” Francis admitted and then gently lifted the knife through Liz’s hand. “But it’s always best not to when you’re handling sharp objects.”

  “It’s just strange being here and not remembering all of you, when you’re all so…familiar.”

  “I understand.” Her warm smile spread through Liz like something she’d never known. It was hearty, loving and everything that Liz hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

  “I wish I’d met you all sooner,” Liz turned back to work on the salad.

  “Well we’ve been insisting you come for weeks,” she barked, throwing her hands up defensively. Then immediately patted Liz’s back lightly and lowered her voice. “I was beginning to think the Fourth of July weekend was the last we’d see you.” The woman complained, giving Liz a light shake, then something flashed in her eyes and she dashed to the oven.

  Liz watched her mother in law for a moment, then turned back to the bowl, her eyes locked in a daze wondering why a spark went off in her chest at Francie’s words. And maybe she wouldn’t have thought twice about her comment if her pupils didn’t double in size as soon as she’d spoken them. Liz tried to think back to everything Matt had told her about that weekend. All she could remember is that he’d told her it was uneventful. And that she’d gone out for a bit with Megan. Her eyes and mind were out of control. Suddenly, being in the kitchen made her feel claustrophobic. She needed to stop wondering about that mystery weekend and move on before someone thought she was having a stroke. She tossed some dill into the salad and took it to the dining table.

  Everyone had assumed their seats except for her and Francis, who still had her head in the oven.

  Matt held out a chair for her.

  Liz quickly glanced around the table to see if the setting seemed familiar to her. If they sat around this same table as her hu
sband had insisted they had. Thanksgiving, Christmas, random family celebrations and some weekends in the Summer.

  Nothing. To her, it was all new.

  What wasn’t new, however, was the tension she once again felt between Matt and Ben. Something far too heavy to be an alleged object they fought about.

  “Matt, didn’t you say the wine is kept in the basement?” Liz asked, putting on her most innocent tone.

  “Yeah, we put out a few bottles here, if—”

  “Could you show me?” Liz lifted an eyebrow and offered a small smile.

  “Uh—yeah sure.” Matt stood and led them down to the wine cellar. The large room appeared clean in the dim lighting but smelled musty and was a tad colder than upstairs. The wine collection was anything but limited, stored in a wall to wall symmetrical wooden grid.

  Matt traced one hand over a few of the flat laying bottles, while the other still held on to Liz’s hand. He spun her around. “I know why we’re really down here,” he grinned, staring at her lips. He pulled her towards him and pressed his lips to hers.

  She smiled underneath his lips and pulled away lightly.

  “Okay, so I didn’t ask you to show me down here for wine,” Liz admitted.

  “I know when you’re lying,” he said teasingly and pulling her back towards him.

  With another light push, she held her hand on his chest and looked up at him. “And I know when you’re lying.”

  He gave her a quizzical look.

  “What you told me about what’s going on between you and Ben is bullshit.”

  His eyes narrowed and she caught that same glimpse of anger before he glanced up the stairs. “What do you think you know?”

  “I think I know that ‘borrowing something without asking’ is a load of crap for the way you keep looking at him.”

  Matt blinked. “Well it’s true.”

  “Well did he give it back?” she shrugged to point out the simple solution.