Ever, Sarah

by Hansen, C. E.

“What? What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Nothing.” He paused. I knew he was not being forthcoming. “I just, um, forgot how beautiful your hair was.”

  “Good recovery.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Nothing.”

  Chapter Six

  The next two weeks flew by. I saw my mother every day, and was happy that it gave me tremendous joy seeing her smile. Don’t get me wrong, the woman was a force of nature and I sort of liked the idea, in theory, that she was my mother. She was witty, charming, beautiful and gracious. Giving and so damned funny. Did I mention beautiful?

  Her mere presence brought me happiness, and I found myself smiling like an idiot whenever she waltzed into the room. And for clarification, she did indeed ‘waltz’ whenever she moved. The woman walked on air and I found myself becoming very, very fond of her.

  I even met my cousins Lucy and Nicholas. I say met because, of course, I didn’t remember them for the life of me. So needless to say, our reunion was a bit awkward, to say the least.

  Lucy is a beautiful girl, about my age, with long dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She is petite but very shapely. Her brother Nicholas has the same dark colored hair with brown eyes. He was taller than Lucy, around my height I’d say. He was very pleasant and had a good sense of humor, but every so often during their visit, I caught him looking at me strangely. Like I would all of a sudden remember him. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

  I went to physical therapy twice a day. It took a lot out of me, and by the time the evening rolled around, I felt like a limp noodle.

  Bradley was wonderful during the entire time I was stuck here, kind, considerate, selfless. He brought me dinner each evening, surprising me with all my ‘favorites’. He described, at my urging, our ‘home’ to me in detail. It sounds so lovely I couldn’t wait to see it. Afterwards we’d sit and watch TV and talk about things; things I should remember but didn’t. And each night, I fell asleep with my hand in his.

  “My mother told me today that I have a horse.”

  “Jez.” He chuckled. “You certainly do love that horse. She’s like a giant dog that follows you around like a puppy. My guess it’s because you spoil her rotten with carrots, apples and sugar cubes.”

  “Funny, I hate not remembering anything. Do I like to ride?”

  “You do. But only Jezebel.”

  “Did I name her that?”

  “Yeah. It was funny. When she was born, she was so funny. We, especially you, would stand for hours watching her trying to get her footing. You laughed so hard. But she was a serious little filly. She loved you the minute she saw you. I think it was mutual.”

  “I would like to see her.”

  “Well, as soon as you’re up to it, I’ll take you to see her. We’ll bring her lots of treats.” He laughed.

  I found myself becoming more and more fond of Bradley. It may have been because in my current mindset, he was my caregiver.

  It didn’t hurt that he was ridiculously good looking.

  No, that didn’t hurt.

  But he was also funny, kind, gentle, and good-natured. I started to think that maybe my first impression of him was wrong.

  He had a kind of rugged, outdoorsy charm, and looked to me like a man who was as comfortable climbing a mountain as leading a meeting in a boardroom; a damned Renaissance man. He seemed to be everything I think I would have wanted in a partner. If only I could remember what I wanted. Maybe I was totally in love with him.

  But the nagging feeling I had, the discomfort I felt, didn’t let go. I just attributed it to my frustration at not being able to remember. He was undeniably hot, and sexy as hell. I was pretty sure we must have had sex…often. I just couldn’t picture us…doing it.

  Actually, that came out wrong. I could most definitely ‘picture’ us ‘doing it’; I just couldn’t remember us ‘doing it.’ What a damned pity.

  To this day, I have not gotten any more flash memories, which makes me sad because I actually felt something deep inside when I had the two I had. I felt a little more whole.

  “Doctor Westley said I can take you home tomorrow. Are you ready?”

  “I am.” Suddenly my heart started beating faster and I could feel the coating of sweat cover my forehead and the back of my neck. Nerves, I told myself. Just nerves.

  “Good. When I come back tonight with dinner, I’ll bring you some real clothes.” He was smiling ear to ear. He seemed so happy he was barely able to contain it. “I’m so impressed with how hard you’ve worked Sarah. I know it took a lot out of you, but you always were a fighter. You are walking so much better.”

  “Not so great without that damned walker though.”

  “Give it time. You’ll be dancing before you know it.”

  “Do I like to dance?”

  “Yes, you danced all the time.” He laughed, “I especially liked it when you would dance when you thought no one was watching. You just let yourself get caught up in the music” He shook his head, the look on his face thoughtful.” For some reason you always seemed to dance while you’re cooking. You love cooking by the way, and you always had music blasting in the kitchen whenever you’re in there.” He shook his head again and smiled, laughing to himself.

  “What? Holding out on me?”

  “No. I was just thinking about how sexy you looked this one time when you were lost in the music and you didn’t realize I was standing there. You shook your hips and moved your arms, a spatula in one hand, a fork in the other, using them like drumsticks…it was cute.”

  “Cute? What happened to sexy?”

  “Oh, it was quite sexy.”

  He stood and turned to look out the window.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just…well, that was just a great memory I have of you…us.”

  “And.”

  “And I’m sure you don’t want to hear it right now.”

  “I do, though.” I said it before, I really thought about what he was talking about, and felt the flush crawl up my face knowing what was coming next.

  “You were dancing, I think the song was ‘Hey Baby’, I stood there watching as long as I could, which I assure you, wasn’t very long. I walked up behind you and bent you backwards, and kissed you. Before I knew it, you were kissing me passionately. Well, you…let’s just say, I was putty in your hands. One thing led to another and within minutes we’d removed each other’s clothes and…we made love right there…you were always into spontaneity…”

  “TMI.” I interrupted.

  The crestfallen look on his face nearly broke my heart, but inside… well, inside my juices were flowing and my internal temperature was increasing by the second. I could feel my pulse in my nether region accompanied by a tightening in my core, almost painfully so.

  My body was ablaze and I wasn’t even sure how it happened. It was the way he talked. The words he said. The sexiness in his tone. I was beyond frustrated. So what looked like disinterest to him was anything but. I suddenly wanted his touch. I wanted his hands roaming all over my body. I think I actually craved it.

  “So tomorrow.” I said in an attempt to break the tension that had enveloped us.

  “I’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

  He stood and walked closer to the bed. He grabbed my hand and I instinctively wanted to pull mine from his grasp, afraid the sweaty palms and erratic heartbeat would give away the turmoil I was feeling inside, but I refrained.

  “You get some sleep. You…we…have a big day ahead of us. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I’ll be the one with the jogging shoes on.”

  “Corny.” He laughed.

  “I’m not corny.”

  “You are and I love it.”

  He bent down and kissed my cheek.

  “Night.”

  “I’m not corny.” I reiterated.

  He chuckled.

  I had hells own time trying to catch my breath. The thought of his warm lips on mine was overwhelming
and I was glad he walked out the door before he could witness what must have been plainly on my face.

  Unadulterated passion.

  My mind began to wander and I found myself trying to picture what it would be like to have sex with him. How would it feel?

  I felt so detached and lonely. All I needed and wanted right now was to feel like I belonged somewhere, with someone. But I also knew I had to take it slow. I still wasn’t sure who I could trust, and right now trust was what I really needed, even more than passion. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to kiss him… passionately. If I had to tell the truth, I would admit I wanted him…period, but I’ll keep those thoughts to myself.

  I don’t think I slept all night. I was so excited to be going ‘home’. And yet, on the other hand, I was also terrified. I didn’t know what awaited me there, but something deep inside told me if I had Bradley by my side, I could face just about anything.

  I said a tearful goodbye to the hospital staff that had taken such great care of me all these weeks and waved from where I sat in the wheelchair. Bradley pushed me into a waiting elevator, held open by an older gentleman. I smiled my thanks and he nodded. We rode the elevator in silence. So many thoughts swimming in my sodden brain. Bradley looked somewhat thoughtful as well when I turned my head and looked up at him.

  We passed through the sliding doors and into the brisk air of an early spring morning. I took in a deep breath, reveling in the feeling of the crisp air against my face. He pushed me right up to the back of his…Mercedes.

  I was totally not expecting that. I mean he dressed really well, always impeccable. He spoke well. His description of ‘our home’ was a bit over the top, but I didn’t think he was well to do.

  Veronica, ‘mother’. Hamptons. Horse on estate in Connecticut. What was I thinking?

  Of course. Money.

  I was now one hundred percent intimidated. He pulled the seatbelt around me, clicking it in place, shut the door and walked the wheelchair back to the door where a young woman dressed in scrubs was waiting to take it back upstairs.

  He made his way around to the other side of the car and slid in next to me. Pushing a button on the console in front of us, the window that separated the front driver’s area from the back lowered slowly.

  “We’re ready Mark.”

  “Yes, Mr. Hunter.”

  He pushed the button once again and the window slowly began to rise. I turned to Bradley and smirked.

  “Half expected his name to be James, or Reginald or Bitterman, something like that.” I snorted.

  “Corny.”

  “Listen Mister. Once and for all, I’m not corny. I’m…different.”

  “You can be anything you want, as long as you’re mine.”

  He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. I smiled as I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling every bit like I belonged right there, right then.

  I stared out the window as we drove through the tall buildings that surrounded us on all sides. I watched lazily as we crossed a bridge. I continued looking out the windows at the passing homes, business, streets, neighborhoods, hoping that somehow, something would spurn a memory, or two, or a million.

  But nothing.

  None of it.

  Nothing at all.

  “This is where you, where we work.” He had said when we were still in the City. He pointed out his window at the large mirrored glass office building. A huge H I in a circle in front of the words Hunter Industries were mounted on the top of the building.

  The inference wasn’t lost on me.

  “Mmm. So you’re my boss as well as my fiancé?”

  “No. I was never your boss.” He squeezed me to him, “We did meet there though. You actually own your own business. Your office is on the forty-second floor. Sarah Williamson, Architect.” He said proudly.

  “Impressive.”

  “You are.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “How is my business doing? Since the accident?”

  “Well, you are a smart businesswoman. You have three associates, some of the most amazingly talented architects I’ve met, working for you. So you’re doing very well. In fact, your company is building two new office complex’s’. One in downtown Manhattan and another in Fort Lee, New Jersey.”

  “Where exactly do we live?”

  “We have a home in Hyde Park and an apartment in Manhattan. We typically spent the work week in Manhattan and the weekends we spend in…”

  “Hyde Park.” My tone even.

  “You…”

  “No. I just guessed.” I cut him off. “Where were we when I, um, fell?”

  “You were in Hyde Park. You had taken Friday off to do some cooking prep. We were having a few friends to the house on Saturday. I was on my way home.”

  “So you’re taking me to Hyde Park now?”

  “Yes, the doctor thought it was the best place for you to recover. She was also a little hopeful something might jar your memory there.” He turned his head and looked out the window, staring pensively, and then looked back at me. “She told me that your memories could come one at a time, or in a rushing flood.”

  “Or not at all.” I finished.

  “Yes, she did say that was a possibility, but I refuse to think negatively. I’m betting on you. You’ll get every bit of it back.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Well then, we’ll just have to make new ones right?”

  I shivered at the thought I may never remember any part of my life, and he pulled me closer to him again.

  “I guess.” My voice sounded a little under enthusiastic, even to me.

  The large black car turned onto a long driveway that seemed to never end. It twisted and turned, flanked by tall, perfectly manicured pine trees. We finally came to an opening and before us stood a grand looking house with a circular drive. Instead of stopping in front of the home we continued on the driveway around to the back of the house. There were four garage doors and we parked in front of the first one. The door opened and we pulled into a massive open space. Bradley got out and walked around to the other side opening my door for me.

  “I’m confused.”

  “This is how we typically go into the house.”

  “Oh.”

  I looked past him to the large yard with the big patio, which I did have to admit, was just beautiful. It had a tremendous pergola perched over the large patio area. To the right there was a large covered patio as well. In the corner there was a grill built into a brick and slate enclosure. Two good-sized stainless refrigerators were next to the gleaming stainless grill. In the distance was the built in pool with a large building next to it. Cabana? I made a mental note to go exploring.

  And right next to the mystery building was another separate grilling area, with an ornate wrought iron bar and a matching table with eight chairs surrounding it. A beautiful running, rippling, waterfall fed the pool. All in all, it was a very serene place that was more than perfect for entertaining.

  “Come on. Let’s get you inside.” I felt Bradley’s arm slide around my waist and leaned against him as we slowly walked towards the door in the garage. I was getting better and stronger every day. The pain was a dull throbbing at this point, but it wasn’t unbearable. “You look tired.”

  “I guess I am. I’m also a little scared.”

  “I could tell. I could feel you shaking.”

  He reached down and lifted me into his arms and he carried up the three steps that would take us into the house. I tried to reach for the doorknob, seeing he had his hands full, but he got it before I could.

  As soon as we stepped in, the aromas wafting out of the kitchen hit me like a freight train. It smelled so enticing I would be willing to crawl, if I had to, just to get to it.

  “Smells so good.”

  “I had Terry come from Manhattan…until you’re back on your feet so to speak.”

  “Wow. What is that?”

  “One of your favorites.”


  “Want to fill me in on what this particular favorite is?”

  “Shepherd’s Pie. Extra carrots and onions.”

  “That does sound good. Smells even better.” I laughed. “You can put me down. I’m okay.”

  “Okay, I’ll go and check on lunch.”

  “I like the way you think.”

  He gently placed me on the floor and walked into the kitchen. I watched him walk until he disappeared behind a wall.

  With a feeling of great trepidation I turned around, slowly taking in the rooms afforded me from this vantage point. I found myself in a hallway that separated the kitchen, the door to the garage, a large open room that was partially visible and the doublewide arch that led to what looked like the formal dining room. I walked towards the light coming down the hallway, passing both the dining room and the butler’s pantry. I rounded the corner and walked towards the front door. The tall glass windows flanking the door provided an abundance of natural light.

  I leaned on the wall for support and turned the corner.

  There in front of me was the long curved staircase that swept down from the second floor.

  The upstairs was wide opened to the entry hall below, like an atrium. I studied the stairs and felt a chill crawl up my spine, stopping just short of my neck. I closed my eyes and tried to picture myself falling down; coming to rest at where I now stood.

  “Sarah?” I heard Bradley call.

  “I’m here.” I answered, my voice a little shaky.

  He stopped when he saw me, and I could see his face contorted in pain. The look in his eyes when he saw me standing at the foot of the stairs could never be erased from my memory. It was a look of pure devastation and something else…something hard.

  “Bradley.” I cried out before the tears ran down my face. I sniffled and moaned before I sat down on the bottom step. Burying my face in my hands, I cried softly, seemingly unable to stop.

  He rushed over to where I sat and bent down.

  “Sarah, are you okay? Did you remember something?” The tone in his voice was full of hope and dread mixed together.

  “No. Bradley I can’t remember anything. Nothing. I want to, but I can’t.” My body wracked with sobs. “Why can’t I remember?”