How to Wake a Sleeping Lady

by Wolf, Bree

  Nessa drew in a painfully slow breath at the mention of the unknown woman her husband had married. The woman he claimed he had never loved. The woman who had clearly become dear to Milly. “You miss her, don’t you?”

  Sighing, Milly nodded. “I wish she didn’t have to go. She always had time for me, and she smiled a lot.” Tears came to Milly’s eyes, but she blinked them away with a braveness uncharacteristic for a six year old. “She was not sad like Father.”

  Nessa felt her hands begin to tremble. “Why was he sad?”

  “Because of Mother,” Milly whispered before her wide hazel eyes rose to meet Nessa’s. “Are you her?”

  Swallowing, Nessa inhaled a shuddering breath, only now becoming aware of the wetness that traveled down her cheeks. Not wishing to upset Milly, she quickly brushed her tears away, trying her best to smile at her daughter. “So they tell me,” she whispered, praying that Milly would not be upset with her for forcing Eugenie out of the house…as well as her daughter’s life. How much more could this little girl endure?

  “Father says you don’t remember,” Milly said, her eyes watchful as they looked at Nessa. “Why not?”

  Nessa shrugged. “I wish I knew,” she whispered, finding herself becoming more at ease in her daughter’s presence. “I suppose I had an accident. I fell into a river and was swept out to sea.”

  Milly’s eyes widened, and Nessa wondered how much Grant had told her. “That sounds scary.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  “Was it not scary for you?”

  “I cannot say,” Nessa replied honestly, “for I don’t remember it. I only remember waking at an abbey up north after a fisherman pulled me out of the water.”

  “He saved your life,” Milly whispered in awe. “That was brave.”

  Nessa nodded. “It was.” She looked down at her daughter’s little hands lying clasped in her lap. “I wish I could remember, but everything from before the accident…is gone. When I try to remember, there’s only blackness.”

  Milly sighed. “You cannot remember Father?”

  “No, I cannot,” Nessa said honestly, finding her daughter’s open way of asking what she wanted to know endearing. She didn’t need to guess at Milly’s thoughts for the little girl shared them openly with her. It was an easy and straightforward way of conversation, one without hidden meanings and secret agendas, and it eased Nessa’s mind.

  “Can you remember me?” Milly asked the question Nessa had feared. How would she react to the truth? Nessa wondered, feeling her insides twist and turn. Still, Milly continued to look at her without fear or dread, but merely with curiosity.

  “I’m sorry,” Nessa whispered, “but I cannot. I wish I could.”

  Milly nodded. “I cannot remember you either. Everyone can remember you, but not me.” Nessa’s heart clenched in her chest before she noted the hesitant smile that came to Milly’s lips. “We both cannot remember.”

  Gazing down at her daughter, Nessa realized that her answer had come as a comfort to Milly. “Does it feel strange to you as well, not to remember something that happened?”

  Milly nodded. “Father and Grandfather tell me about you and I can see that they want me to remember, but…” She shrugged, her hazel eyes coming to meet Nessa’s. “They want the same from you, don’t they?”

  Smiling, Nessa nodded. “Yes.”

  “Do you wish you could remember?” Milly asked as she pulled up a leg and sat down sideways, facing Nessa, her wide eyes curious beyond all else. “Does it make you sad not to remember?”

  “It does,” Nessa replied, mimicking her daughter’s change in position. “Sometimes something feels familiar, but I wonder if it truly is or if I only want it to be.” For a moment, Nessa wondered if she had said something that would only confuse her daughter, but then Milly’s face lit up and she nodded eagerly.

  “I know,” she agreed before she looked hard at Nessa’s face, squinting her eyes as though trying to see something very small. “I think…I think I’ve seen you before, but I don’t remember where.”

  Nessa smiled, feeling a new warmth engulf her heart. “I feel the same,” she whispered, her voice slightly choked by the emotions that had suddenly surfaced. “I want to know you.”

  Milly nodded, a faint smile coming to her lips. “Perhaps…perhaps we can help each other remember.”

  “I’d like that very much,” Nessa replied, suddenly needing to fight the urge to reach out and take her daughter’s hand. Still, it was much too soon for that, and the last thing she wanted was to frighten Milly. “Perhaps you can tell me about yourself, about your life.”

  Putting a finger to her lips, Milly thought for a moment. “I like the stars,” she said, glancing at her telescope, “and I like it when Grandfather explains things to me. He knows a lot.” Her arms stretched far as she tried to encompass her grandfather’s knowledge. “But sometimes, I don’t understand what he says. Eugenie likes to listen to him, too.” Milly’s eyes darkened, and she sighed. “I miss Eugenie. I wish she could have stayed.”

  Nessa swallowed hard, but tried her best to think of her daughter and ignore the aches and bruises of her own heart. “It was hard to say goodbye to her, was it not?”

  Milly nodded.

  “Will you tell me about her?” Nessa asked, wondering if she truly wished to know. However, if she wanted to learn more about her daughter, then she needed to be open to hearing about Eugenie. After all, whether Nessa liked it or not, the woman had been Milly’s mother during the past year and Milly clearly cared for her.

  “She’s not loud like Grandmother,” Milly said with a smile as a memory surfaced. “She’s quiet and kind. She liked to walk outside or read indoors. She liked to hear about the stars as well.” Milly sighed. “She asked about you.”

  “A-About me?” Nessa stammered as her eyes went wide.

  Milly nodded. “She asked what I remembered of you. When I told her that I didn’t, she said that in my heart I’d always remember you.” Milly looked up at her. “She said the heart never forgets. Do you think she was right?”

  Blinking back tears, Nessa nodded. “I think she was. I think, deep down, my heart remembers you.”

  A dazzling smile lit up Milly’s face. “It does?”

  “It does,” Nessa assured her as her hand gently settled on her daughter’s. “I don’t think it could ever forget you.”

  For a moment, Milly glanced down at her mother’s hand as it rested on hers. “Perhaps we can help each other remember.”

  Nessa nodded. “I’d like that very much.” More than she could ever say.

  Sitting beside her daughter up in her little tree house, Nessa realized that she had come home after all. More than that, she realized that she wanted to be home. Whether she remembered or not, this was her family—Nessa felt it deep inside—and she would not surrender without a fight.

  Closing her eyes, she whispered a silent thank you to the woman who had not only healed Milly’s heart, but also helped her hold on to the mother she had not been able to remember.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Agnes

  Standing in her bedchamber, Nessa let her gaze glide over her surroundings.

  The previous night, she had been too exhausted, but with the rise of a new day, old questions had returned and she found herself looking at her previous life, wishing with all her heart that it would look familiar.

  It did not.

  Her eyes slid over the large bed of fine mahogany timber, its pale blue bedding a wonderful contrast to the dark wood. The wallpaper was of a similar color, bearing little blossoms and leaves. A vanity stood by the windows with a large mirror reflecting the tall vase filled with lilies on the side table by the door. Under her bare feet, Nessa felt the soft contours of a fine carpet, its delicate weave gentle on her skin.

  Sighing, Nessa pulled on her stockings and then slipped into her shoes. Her new wardrobe was still as unfamiliar to her as the rest of her old life. Still, for a reason she could not expl
ain, Nessa wanted no help in the mornings or at bedtime and thus had sent the surprised maid away. Her mind was still overwhelmed, and she felt an almost desperate need to have something to herself.

  A place to call her own where no one would intrude.

  Smiling, Nessa thought of Milly’s tree house and wondered if her daughter cherished it for the same reason. A place to get away and be alone with one’s thoughts. A place without questions and the need to find answers. A place to be at peace.

  And yet, Milly had shared her secret place with Nessa. Perhaps seeing her need, Milly had invited her into her sanctuary, and Nessa had to admit that speaking with her daughter had eased her mind greatly.

  Deep down, she had feared that Milly would resent her for leaving or for coming back or even both. For forcing Eugenie out of the house and bringing unrest to the family.

  The calm serenity with which her daughter had met her had surprised Nessa and warmed her heart. Still, she wondered how she ought to go about finding her way back into her old life. Indeed, she’d loved speaking to Milly and would cherish all the moments to come, but how did she recover old memories? Especially with everyone looking at her, waiting anxiously for her to retrieve them?

  Unfortunately, merely returning home had not been enough. What else could she do?

  Sitting down at her vanity, Nessa found a little silver hand mirror resting on its smooth wooden surface. The back of the mirror was adorned with little blossoms and in the center, a name had been engraved: Agnes.

  Since Grant never called her Agnes, Nessa knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he had not been the one to give her the mirror. Then where had it come from? Clearly, it was something that was given as a gift and not purchased for oneself. Still, as an unmarried woman, it would have been highly inappropriate to accept such a gift from a suitor—not that Nessa believed she’d had many of those in her day. Family, then.

  A small smile came to Nessa’s face when she remembered her father as well as the deep affection with which he had spoken of her mother. Her name had been Agnes as well. Was that not how she had ended up with it? Because her father had clung to his wife even in death?

  Nessa sighed, wishing she could remember her mother, knowing that she never would. Perhaps a mother would know what to do in a situation like this. Would her mother have found the words that would have put Nessa’s mind at ease? Or would she have been equally lost and overwhelmed?

  Picking up the small mirror, Nessa looked at her reflection, wondering how many times before she had looked into it, but could not remember. Had her father given it as a gift to his wife? Or had it been made for her, Nessa? Perhaps she simply ought to ask him.

  The woman looking back at her from the mirror looked vaguely familiar. More than once, Nessa had seen her own reflection. Still, it had always been blurred and slightly distorted as it had been in the water’s surface and not smooth glass. In the abbey, mirrors had not been a common good and, in truth, Nessa had had very little desire to look upon her own face.

  In the past three years, she had somehow learned to live from day to day without much thought, enjoying the here and now, the little things life granted her. Small pleasures like the warmth of the sun, the scent of snow on the air or the feel of dirt under her fingertips. For if she had spent the past three years dwelling on all the things she did not know but ought to, Nessa would have no doubt lost her mind. And so she had found peace in not asking any questions, but merely continuing on, ignoring the past.

  That part of her life was over now.

  Once again, Nessa looked at herself in the small mirror. A smile flitted across her face when she looked into her own hazel eyes, eyes so much like her daughter’s. Somehow, Nessa had seen the resemblance right away, and it’d had a strangely calming effect on her. Was it not evidence that all the many things these strangers told her about her old life were true? So far, there’d only been their words, their promises urging her to believe that what they’d said was true. Now, there were Milly’s eyes.

  “I have a daughter,” Nessa whispered as her gaze continued to roam her own face, trying to see the person she had once been. Small laughter lines were set around the corners of her eyes as well as her mouth, and Nessa found that a smile came easily to her lips. Had she been happy in her old life? Everybody said that she had been, and yet, it was not the same as remembering the feeling itself. How did it feel to be incandescently happy?

  Nessa sighed, wondering if there was even a chance for her to be happy again when a part of her was missing. Would she think of herself differently if she could remember her past? How much of a person’s character rested in their life’s accumulated experiences? Was there truly a part of her that was lost forever? And who was she without it?

  A knock sounded on the door, and Nessa rose to her feet, wondering who had come to see her. “Please enter.”

  Slowly, the door swung open, revealing her father in its frame. A tentative smile rested on his features as he carefully took a step forward. “May I?” he asked, his blue eyes watching her with care.

  Nessa nodded. “Of course.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I meant to apologize for running off like that yesterday. I know it wasn’t—”

  “There’s no need, my dear,” her father said, waving her concerns away. Closing the door, he stepped toward her as the look in his eyes was watchful as before. “How did you sleep?”

  Nessa chuckled. “Surprisingly well.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’d feared that after yesterday you’d have been too distraught to find any rest at all.”

  “I saw Milly.” All on its own, a smile found its way onto her face, and Nessa felt it deep in her heart.

  “Yes, she told me,” her father replied, joy dancing in his eyes as he saw her smile. “She said you found her in the tree house.”

  “By accident,” Nessa assured him. “I only wanted to get away, to have a moment to myself when I heard her calling down to me.” Once again, a smile stole onto her face. “She gave me quite the fright.”

  “What did it feel like?” her father asked, his gaze contemplative as he looked at her. “To see her? To speak to her?”

  Nessa swallowed. “I don’t remember her.” Was she a horrible person for saying so? For not remembering her own child? “But…”

  “But?” her father urged, hope shining in his eyes.

  Sighing, Nessa walked away, directing her gaze out the window. Was it not this expectant kind of hope which rested in everybody’s eyes that was the greatest burden? They were all waiting for her to remember and every day she had to admit that she didn’t, it was a disappointment to them. How was she to regain any ease at all in her old home when they followed her every step with watchful eyes?

  “I felt something when I saw her,” Nessa whispered, knowing very well that it might only have been wishful thinking or perhaps the normal response to the need of a child, any child. “She is…amazing, and I’m looking forward to spending more time with her. Still, I’m not certain it’ll help me remember the time we had together before. With every day that passes, I’m beginning to believe more and more that that time is forever lost.” Nessa turned to face her father, feeling the need to dash his hopes now before they would rise too high. “I don’t think I’ll ever remember, and I believe it is best if you all knew that. I see the way you look at me, and it makes me cringe to think it’ll only lead to disappointment.”

  Inhaling deeply, her father walked over to the lone armchair in the corner and sat down. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said with a chuckle. “My legs are not as strong as they once were. Time passes, and it changes us; however, that does not mean we are no longer the people we once were.” Nessa could see that he was thinking something through. Then he sat forward, and the look in his eyes hardened with determination. “My memory sometimes plays tricks on me,” he whispered as though he wasn’t certain to voice these thoughts after all. “Sometimes, I can’t quite remember what I wanted to say or do, or a word is at the tip of
my tongue, but for the life of me I cannot remember what it was.” He sighed deeply, frustration ringing in his voice. “It feels like a part of me is slipping away, and it frightens me.”

  Swallowing hard, Nessa remembered Sister Mary, one of the eldest women in the abbey. Even before she had been taken in, Sister Mary had had problems with her memory. Sometimes, she found herself somewhere without knowledge on how she’d gotten there. Or she sat at the supper table and looked at the spoon in her hand in puzzlement. Words had failed her often, and there had been days when she had asked the same question countless times.

  Nessa had considered herself fortunate that she had merely forgotten her past.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not knowing what to say. After all, there was no comfort, was there? “What will you do now?”

  Her father shrugged. “I’m afraid there’s very little I can do. Some things we cannot control, but we mustn’t allow them to control us. What I can do is live my life to the best of my ability and enjoy the moments granted me.” A gentle smile came to his lips as he looked at her. “And so I choose not to mourn and lament the loss of your memory, but instead be grateful for your return to us and the chance we have of making new memories together.”

  Nessa had to admit that her father’s words were wise, and she felt her unease subside. “Have you always been this wise?” she asked him with a smirk.

  Laughing, he shook his head. “I doubt it very much, my dear.”

  “But what happens,” Nessa began, feeling the need to voice the question that rested in every fiber of her being, “when one day you no longer remember?”

  Rising from his chair, her father walked over and gently took her hands in his. His pale blue eyes shone with trust and understanding. “Then you will remember for me,” he replied simply. “That’s what family is for. We all have our little flaws and failings, but as long as we’re there for each other, it is never as bad as it seems.”