The Memory of All That

by Gibson, Nancy Smith

  Were we ever in love? I can’t imagine being married to someone I don’t love and who doesn’t love me in return. But then, I don’t remember being married to anyone, much less this David person. Did his voice once whisper into my ear as we made love? Was that deep tone once kind and gentle, laughing and teasing instead of disbelieving and harsh?

  It wasn’t a memory, exactly, that was tugging at her mind. It was more like an awareness that David held some sort of an emotional pull over her. It wasn’t much, but it was something to build on as she tried to retrieve her missing memories. She hoped these feelings meant her memory was coming back. She needed to learn why her husband was so angry with her.

  She closed her eyes and recalled his face. Square and handsome, with blue eyes and dark brown hair, he had seemed worried, angry, or bitterly sarcastic each time she saw him. Surely that isn’t how he’s always looked. He must have looked at me lovingly once, before all this trouble—whatever it is—started. She tried to imagine him smiling at her, kissing her. She smiled herself as the image of his lips on hers flitted through her mind. Is that a memory or my imagination? I can’t tell.

  Marnie sighed and sat up, throwing the cover aside. She was sleepy again, although it seemed all she did was sleep. Sliding her legs over the edge, she gingerly stood up and made her way to the bathroom. She had rummaged through the cabinet that morning and found a new toothbrush and some toothpaste, and she used it to make her mouth fresh once again.

  Not that he’s going to kiss me, even if he is my husband, she thought. He’s too mad to do that. I’m not even sure I’d want him to. Since I don’t remember him, it would be like kissing a stranger. Suddenly, that thought was exciting, not scary.

  Might as well get ready for bed. Taking a washcloth, she cleaned her face. Looking in the mirror, she surveyed the woman she saw. The shoulder-length hair that curled around a pale oval face was tousled and in need of a thorough washing.

  Not beautiful, but it’ll do. Maybe clean hair and some makeup would improve my appearance. Or maybe just getting well will.

  She hung the cloth on the towel rack and started back toward the bed. With her strength gone, she held to the wall in the short hall back to the bedroom. Alice was there, straightening the bedcovers.

  “I was just smoothing everything so you can rest. Maybe tomorrow, if you feel like it, you can shower and wash your hair, and I can change the sheets on the bed,” Alice said as she gave the pillows a final punch.

  “Yes. I was looking in the mirror and saw my hair. I hope I’ll be up to doing that.”

  “There’s a bench in the shower you can sit on while you wash, and I’ll be here if you get to feeling shaky.”

  Marnie climbed into bed and fell asleep with thoughts of a hot shower and warm lips kissing hers.

  As soon as Marnie stepped from the shower, Alice wrapped her in a terrycloth robe before she became chilled.

  “Do you want to put pajamas back on or do you want to get dressed today?”

  “Do I own any sweats? I don’t really want to get dressed, but I don’t want PJs either.”

  “Why don’t you look in your closet, Miss Marnie? I don’t know what all you have.”

  “Where is my closet?”

  “Land sakes! You don’t even remember where your closet is?” She walked into the hallway between the bedroom and bathroom. “It’s right here,” she said and opened a door Marnie had noticed earlier. “This is yours, and the one on the other side,”—she pointed across the hall—“is Mr. David’s.”

  Racks of clothes filled two walls, while the outside wall held a window surrounded by drawers and shelves. A chair was handy for donning shoes, and a cheval mirror offered her a full-length view.

  She was stunned by the abundance of clothing in every color and fabric. There were lace, satin, and silk evening gowns, some adorned with beads and sequins, each more elaborate and beautiful than the last. Suits of wool, silk, and other cloth took up several feet, followed by casual dresses in a variety of styles and colors. The rack on the other side held slacks and a whole section of jeans. There were blouses and shirts, along with skirts. Marnie couldn’t imagine wearing a skirt as short as the ones hanging in her closet. In fact, she couldn’t imagine where she would wear most of the clothes. I must go to a lot of formal events to need all these evening clothes. There were several coats, including the brown plaid one she had on when she woke up in the park.

  She pulled out a long-sleeved shirt from among the casual clothing she thought might be comfortable to wear and found “Bitch” written in sparkling stones across the front. Shuddering, she hung it back on the rack. Why on earth would I buy a shirt like that?

  She settled on a set of pink sweats. They weren’t plain, but they didn’t have vulgarities plastered across the front, and they would be warm and comfortable. She checked the drawers for underwear but found only scarves, belts, jewelry, and tank tops.

  Alice came to the open closet door and peered in.

  “Are you doing OK?”

  “Yes, but I can’t find any panties.”

  “You keep those in a drawer in the bedroom. You ran out of room in here.”

  “I can’t imagine why I would need all these clothes.”

  “Well, you might not need them, but you like them. You like to shop.”

  “I do?”

  “You sure do. You and Mr. David—” She stopped midsentence and turned back toward the bedroom. “Let me get you some underwear.”

  When Alice returned, Marnie asked, “Mr. David and I what? What were you going to say?”

  “Nothing. I’m not going to talk about what goes on between you two. And I’m not supposed to tell you anything about your past.” She closed her mouth tightly, as if to prevent any more words from spilling out.

  “Is that what he’s mad at me about? Buying too many clothes? Spending too much money?”

  “It’s none of my business. I’m not saying another thing.”

  Marnie put on the warm outfit and rummaged through the drawers until she found some socks for her cold feet. Even though she sat in the chair while she dressed, she was exhausted by the time she was through and returned to the bedroom.

  “Here, let me help you back into the bed. You’ve done enough for now.”

  “Let me just lie on top of the covers, Alice. I’ll rest a while, and maybe I’ll feel like getting up again.”

  When Alice spread a cover over her, Marnie roused slightly from her sleep and then sank back into slumber.

  When she awoke again, it was to Alice bringing a lunch tray.

  “That smells delicious! I’m getting hungry more often. When can I have solid food?”

  “The doctor didn’t say, but I’ll see what I can do about getting a more substantial supper tonight. You’re doing fine on soft food for now. This potato soup is good, and I brought pudding for dessert.”

  After Marnie had eaten, she set the tray aside and walked over to the large window that overlooked the yard. She was determined not to spend all of her time sleeping. She was surprised to see that a thick blanket of snow covered the landscape. She sat in one of the wingback chairs that were on either side of the window, separated by an accent table and lamp. As she looked around the room, she tried to remember having sat in the chair before, with no luck. The heavy drapes had been pulled back, allowing sunlight to brighten her mood slightly.

  This could be a pleasant room, she thought, if it were decorated with lighter colors. She couldn’t help but feel a little depressed and somewhat claustrophobic with the red patterned wallpaper, maroon drapes, and dark rug on the wood floor.

  Maybe light blue or pale green on the walls would help cheer the place up. And light-colored drapes to match and a rug with spring flowers or some other happy pattern. That’s what it needs. I can’t believe I liked this
room before.

  Besides the bed, there were two large pieces of furniture in the room: a highboy and a dresser. Decorated ornately with carved flowers and leaves, their appearance added to the heaviness of the décor. Those furniture pieces would fit just fine in a room with a lighter color scheme, she thought.

  She walked across the room and opened a dresser drawer. It contained a mish-mash of items, from makeup to jewelry, pieces of paper, cards, and a jumble of unidentifiable items. The next drawer and the one after held underwear. All of the rest of the drawers were filled with clothing of one sort or another.

  She went to the highboy standing by the hallway door that led to the bathroom. The drawers were almost empty, and the few items she found obviously belonged to a man.

  David’s, she thought.

  She felt like she had been snooping, prying into someone else’s life. Silly, she thought. I’m snooping in my own life. I wish something would spark a memory.

  Windows flanked the four-poster bed, and she went to examine the view they afforded. There she saw a circular drive, the one she staggered up when Alice had rescued her. Inside the red brick wall that bordered the street were bushes, now laden with snow.

  At the end of her strength, she was shaking with fatigue. Climbing back in the bed, she propped herself up against the pile of snowy white pillows. I don’t feel the least bit sleepy, she thought. That’s an improvement.

  As she continued to mentally redecorate the room, Jonathan appeared in the doorway with an oversized but thin book under his arm.

  “Hi.”

  This time he didn’t have to think before answering. “Hi.”

  “What do you have there?”

  “A book.”

  “I can see that. What’s it about?”

  “Dinosaurs.”

  “Cool! Would you like to show me?”

  He nodded and approached the bed.

  “Climb on up here so I can see it.”

  In seconds Jonathan stretched out beside her so he could see the pictures while she read about the mighty beasts. He pointed out his favorites and told her bits of information about each.

  They were admiring a particularly nice Tyrannosaurus when a woman appeared in the doorway. She was pretty, with a mass of blond hair surrounding her face. She was perfectly made-up and dressed in light blue slacks and matching cardigan. The top several buttons had been left undone, creating a stunning show of cleavage where a strand of pearls rested. An outfit to catch a man, Marnie thought.

  “There you are! Darling, come along.” She held her hand out toward the boy. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Barrett. He slipped away from me. I hope he didn’t disturb you.”

  “Not at all. I enjoyed his company.”

  “Sweetheart,” the woman said in a syrupy voice, “you know you are supposed to play in your room.” With that she turned to walk away, but Jonathan gave a little wave and a grin before following.

  So my last name is Barrett, Marnie thought. That woman must be Jonathan’s mother. I wonder how they are connected with this family, why they live in this house. Are they relatives, perhaps?

  Alice arrived carrying the usual tray.

  “My goodness, Alice. It’s not suppertime already, is it? Although, I’ll admit I could eat something right now.”

  Alice chuckled. “No, it’s not suppertime for another couple of hours. Doctor Means called to see how you’re doing, and he said to start feeding you more. He thinks you are real run-down and too thin. ‘She needs fattenin’ up’ is what he said. Cook baked cookies, and I’ve brought you some and a glass of milk.”

  “Put them over there on the table, Alice. I’m going to try to get out of bed more.”

  “Doc said your strength would start to come back as you get over whatever is wrong with you. He said you looked like you hadn’t been eating right—that’s why you’re so thin.”

  “I’ll bet Jonathan likes these cookies,” she said as she took a bite of the sugary treat.

  “He surely does. He’s on his way to get some now.”

  “The woman who came for him is lovely—so pretty.” Marnie looked expectantly at Alice, hoping to gain some information about the other residents of the house.

  “Well, she thinks she is, anyway,” Alice said with a snort as she left the room.

  Chapter 6

  The next few days passed slowly as Marnie gradually regained her strength. She spent more and more time out of bed, first sitting in one of the chairs in her bedroom, and then venturing into the hall to sit in the window seat at the closest end of the passageway where she could look out over the side yard.

  Jonathan was her companion most days. He would bring a book, usually the one about dinosaurs, and they would sit together while she read to him. Marnie wondered how she was able to remember details about the giant creatures but not her own life.

  “Have I read this book to you before? That is, before I got sick?”

  He shook his head.

  As he went to retrieve another book, she noticed he entered a room about halfway down the hall.

  “Is that your room?”

  “Yes. Would you like to see it?”

  He realizes I can’t remember the past. Finally, someone who doesn’t think I’m lying.

  “Yes, I would,” she answered, and he took her by the hand.

  The room they entered was a playroom. Against one wall, there was a large bookcase with perhaps half a dozen books on a shelf. There were several plastic tubs on the shelf below, and she walked over and pulled one out, then another, to see the contents. One was filled with blocks of all colors and shapes and another with cars and trucks. An adult-sized table and chairs sat between the windows, and a child’s table with only one chair centered the room. She wondered if he ever had a friend come to play. If so, there wouldn’t be a place for them both to sit unless they used the big table.

  The room itself did nothing to proclaim it was a little boy’s room. The beige wallpaper was past its prime. Dark woodwork trimmed the walls at the ceiling and floor. An old patterned rug offered a less than pleasing place for a child to sit and play. It looked more like an adult’s spot for reading, since a rocking chair that sat against one wall was flanked by a table holding a lamp. It was as if someone had put the children’s table and shelves in as an afterthought. The sunlight pouring in the windows did nothing to alleviate the gloomy atmosphere. It looks like no one cares about what he has to keep him happy, she thought. No one has given much thought to what a child needs. This is a forgotten place.

  Marnie wondered where the pretty blonde woman was. She hadn’t seen her with Jonathan again.

  “Where’s your mother?” she asked.

  He shrugged and examined the plastic dinosaur in his hands. “I don’t know.”

  “Where do you sleep?” she asked.

  “In here,” he said, taking her hand once more to lead her through a door that connected to the next room.

  At least in this room someone had taken the time to make the room more child friendly. The bed was an ordinary twin bed, but the spread on it resembled a racecar, and a bright blue fuzzy throw rug was placed on the floor beside it, tempting little toes to curl into its softness. The draperies at the tall windows were the color of a bright summer day, and there was a large stuffed bear on the bed.

  “Oh, what a lovely bear. Does he have a name?”

  Jonathan shrugged again. “Just Bear.”

  “Did someone special give it to you?”

  “My mother,” he said, still looking down at the toy in his hands. She could barely hear him as he answered.

  “That makes it special, then, if your mother gave it to you.”

  He was silent at that pronouncement.

  Jonathan and Marnie were together most days, walking
the length of the hall as Marnie’s strength returned. They would walk to Jonathan’s playroom, where she would sit in the big overstuffed chair and read to him from one of the few choices available. Then they would walk to the far end of the hall and sit in the window seat, which was just like the one that was close to her room. They would rest a while before returning to her room. As the days wore on, Marnie felt stronger and no longer felt the need to nap as often.

  A week or so later, Marnie was dressing for the day in a pair of jeans and a yellow cashmere sweater. As she stood in front of the mirror, she couldn’t help but notice the changes in her appearance since she had arrived. Her color was better. Her cheeks were pink instead of the sickly white she had seen when she first ventured out of bed. Her face had filled out, and she no longer looked as gaunt. The clothes, which had been loose when she started wearing them instead of pajamas, fit nicely now. She felt better physically, if not mentally.

  She decided the time had come to venture downstairs. Alice and Mary, another maid, took turns bringing Marnie’s meals to her, but that was bound to be an extra duty for them. Marnie thought she was probably strong enough to manage the long flight of steps to the ground floor, and she knew it was time she started taking her meals in a more convenient location. She wondered if everyone in the household took their meals together.

  Let’s see. There’s my husband, David. It’s odd that he doesn’t visit me more often, but that must have something to do with him being mad at me. I wish the doctor hadn’t told everyone to withhold information from me so I would remember on my own. It isn’t working. I’m not remembering anything. I wish I knew more about this odd family and how they are related to me and each other. Jonathan and his mother—how do they fit into the family? And who was the woman who said I was going to jail? It won’t be very pleasant dining with people who are angry with me and no one telling me why, but if that’s what it takes to remember my past, I’ll do it.