v
There were always so many people milling around the studio at any one time that Cees simply pasted an amiable smile on her face as she passed each shadow. Part of her was glad that she hadn’t had to have the Þ rst of at least two difÞ cult conversations with Miranda. When the time came, she had no doubt that Miranda would support her decisions. She wouldn’t be happy about either of them, but she would be supportive in the end. It was New York she had to worry about.
The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than two Þ gures that she vaguely recognized as wearing suits walked past her toward Miranda’s ofÞ ce. Miranda was good about sending out warning memos when The Suits from New York were in town so that language and attire could be modiÞ ed. This was either a surprise visit, which was never a good thing, or…
“Excuse me?”
Cees mouthed “shit” and wiped the scowl from her face before turning around. Suits meant hours of fake laughing, dinner at expensive restaurants, and sometimes drinks after, when all she wanted to do was go home, put on some soft music, and sleep.
The female ß ashed a badge so fast that Cees wouldn’t have been able to read it even if she had been close enough. She introduced herself and her partner as detectives with the Portland Police Department. “We were told we could Þ nd Cease Bannigan up here,” the male detective said.
“You’ve found me. It’s Cees. Pronounced like Casey without the Y.” The two detectives shared a startled look. “What can I help you with?”
“Is there someplace private we can talk?”
• 16 •
REMEMBER TOMORROW
Cees pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “My ofÞ ce is the last one on the right.”
Cees followed the broad back of the male police ofÞ cer toward her ofÞ ce. “Have a seat.” Cees sat on the edge of her desk and waited for the two ofÞ cers to situate themselves on the couch. Unless she needed a nap, she rarely came into this room
“What’s this about, detectives?”
“Arieanna Simon.”
Cees straightened, her back cracking audibly in the silent room. When was the last time she had heard that name mentioned?
Over a year at least. Cees’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
And just like that, pain ß ooded her chest.
v
“What happened?” Cees asked.
“She’s in the hospital, Ms. Bannigan.”
“In the hospital?” Cees repeated automatically. She wasn’t aware that the tears had begun to fall until after they were already sliding down her face. The female detective, Cees couldn’t remember her name, steered her toward the couch, and her larger partner stood up to give her space. Cees sat with her hands between her legs, looking down at the ß oor.
“Is she all right? What happened to her?” Cees looked back and forth between the two detectives, trying to gauge the seriousness of the situation by the expressions on their faces.
“She was in a car accident. Her landlord let us into her apartment. He mentioned she lived alone and hadn’t had visitors in months.” Cees’s mind cleared enough to recognize the question buried within his statement, but she wasn’t sure how to answer him. “We found your name on her medical power of attorney.”
“My name? Are you sure? I haven’t spoken with Arie in well over a year.” Cees remembered the shock of dialing Arie’s phone number only to have found it had been disconnected with no forwarding number. She had dialed it three times, pushing each
• 17 •
GABRIELLE GOLDSBY
number carefully, despite the fact that Arie’s number had been programmed into her speed dial. That Þ nal blow, dealt without a word, had left her curled into a fetal position.
Why would Arie give her power of attorney without mentioning it to her, and why wouldn’t she change it after they split? She wasn’t even sure she understood what power of attorney meant. Seventeen months ago, it might not have surprised her. She knew that Arie had listed her as beneÞ ciary for her life insurance policy because they had Þ lled them out together, on a Sunday morning while watching Scooby-Doo and sipping coffee from the same mug. But when open enrollment had come around the following year, she had changed her beneÞ ciary back to her best friend Lilly Nguyen. “Arie was my lover, but I wasn’t even sure she was still in town.”
The two ofÞ cers must have communicated with a look, because it was the female who spoke. “The car accident was last Wednesday. A young mother and her child stalled in the middle of Skyline road. They were just exiting their car when Ms. Simon came around the bend. She swerved to avoid them, lost control of her SUV, and ß ipped it.”
A vision of a crumpled and bleeding Arie assailed Cees’s senses. Cees dropped her head and willed herself to continue to breathe.
“Is she going to be okay? Wednesday was six days ago. Why are you just now coming to tell me this?”
“She was lucky. She slipped in and out of consciousness, but she was calling for someone when they brought her in, but the ambulance folks garbled the name. We had nothing to go on until we found the documents in her home.”
“She was calling for… me?”
“We think so. We couldn’t Þ nd any other references to friends in her apartment.” The male ofÞ cer made no effort to hide the fact that this surprised him. “Ms. Simon has no other family?”
“No. She told me her grandfather died right before she moved
• 18 •
REMEMBER TOMORROW
to Portland. We always joked about the fact that we worked so well together because we were both orphans. Wait, why are you asking me these questions and not her?”
“She’s been—traumatized by the accident.” The female detective’s answer was hesitant. Cees recognized that hesitancy.
She had hoped to never hear it again. It meant there was more that wasn’t being said. That “more” was never good news. It meant that a seasoned professional was trying to spare her feelings. It meant things didn’t look good. It meant, “I’m trying to spare you pain even though I’m busy.” It meant, “I feel sorry for you, but my job is not to give you unfounded hope.”
“Her medical power of attorney is why we’re here, but we were hoping you could clear up some things that we found odd.”
The female cop laughed and looked at her partner. “We’ve been doing this so long that we see inconsistencies where none exist, but while we were trying to Þ nd Ms. Simon’s family, we found a marked lack of…connections. No job, no relatives, no friends other than yourself that we could Þ nd.”
“No job? For how long?”
“The last form of employment we found was when she worked with you. It took some digging, but the lawyer that drew up the power of attorney assured us that Ms. Simon has always been well off, even before her grandfather left her everything.”
Cees had a theory that after the Þ rst blush of their romance had faded, Arie had begun to regret her job as the show’s expert on landscape architecture. Now that theory was out the window.
“I wish I could help you, but as I said before, I didn’t know about any of this until you told me.” There was another long, uncomfortable moment.
“So you don’t know anything about the concessions in her power of attorney?”
“Arie and I never discussed a power of attorney. We barely discussed—” Cees stopped speaking. These two weren’t interested in the life she had with Arie.
• 19 •
GABRIELLE GOLDSBY
“We don’t mean to sound like we’re grilling you over this because we aren’t. It’s just, she’s also got some strange stipulations in it.”
“Strange how?”
“If she’s ever deemed unable to care for herself, her powers of attorney stipulates that she not be left on life support, which is pretty common, but what’s unusual is that she also stipulates that she does not want to be left in your care. She is to be put in a home if she is ever deemed incapable of taking care of herself.”
>
Snippets of what the male cop was saying Þ ltered through Cees’s conscious. “…does not want to be left in your care.
Deemed incapable of taking care.” Cees stood. Dread spread its black wings, descended, and sank its claws into her chest. Her body wavered. She had been here before. Heard similar words uttered.
Not again. She didn’t think she could survive it again.
• 20 •
REMEMBER TOMORROW
CHAPTER TWO
There were so many reasons why she shouldn’t be sitting in the parking lot of Oregon Health Sciences Hospital.
The least important was the fact that Arie had made it quite clear that she didn’t want, didn’t need, Cees in her life. Yet here she sat, watching as people entered the hospital and hoping that the end of visiting hours would forestall her from seeing Arie. Cees tightened her jaw and forced herself out of the cocoon of the truck. Normally, she couldn’t wait to get out of the huge vehicle she had nicknamed the Monster for its obscenely long truck bed and its bottomless gas tank. She was used to parking at the far corner of lots so as not to block anyone. Today she was grateful; the inconvenience afforded her a little more time to ready herself for the inevitable meeting with Arie. Each step toward the hospital was punctuated by the pounding of her heart. Two double doors slid open. She blinked and walked inside.
Once, when she was young, her father had called her into the living room of an old dilapidated home to show her an ant colony that the crew had uncovered.
The two of them had watched as the worker ants mindlessly carried miniscule white eggs from one place to another. He had explained that the queen’s sole job was to have babies, and the workers were to care for those eggs and to bring back food for the queen.
The automatic way that they worked with no thank-you,
• 21 •
GABRIELLE GOLDSBY
no other sense of purpose, had been too much for Cees’s young mind to understand. She had burst into tears, much to her father’s chagrin. Hospitals always reminded her of that ant colony, and her father. The white-coated workers mindlessly, thanklessly shuttling from one place to another in an attempt to save lives.
Cees had spent a lot of time in a place like this. The scent, though not exactly the same, was similar enough to bring memories of her father’s last days, his once strong body devoured by both the cancer and the cure, and Þ nally, the blank look when the medicine that took away his pain took away everything else.
She’d been there when he had taken his last breath, a surprisingly strong inhalation that was never released, or if it was, Cees didn’t see it. Worst of all, she remembered the relief and joy. He was no longer in pain, no longer a prisoner of his own body. Her relief was soon overcome by a painful realization: She would never see him again. Never hold his hand, never again whisper how proud she was of him for Þ ghting. A very selÞ sh feeling of loneliness had remained.
Cees waited until the clerk ended her call. “Hi, my name is Cees Bannigan. I’m here to see Arieanna Simon.” The words ß owed like there was no obstacle, and the efÞ cient clerk typed something into her computer and looked up at Cees. “I’ll need to call her doctor.”
“If visiting hours are—”
“One moment.” The clerk dialed a few numbers and, speaking efÞ ciently, explained that there was a visitor to see Arieanna Simon. She hung up the phone and told Cees that Dr.
Parrantt would be up to see her momentarily.
Cees turned toward the bank of couches shoehorned into a small waiting room and wished desperately for a cup of coffee.
She sat down and braced her elbows on her knees. The irony of the situation hadn’t escaped her notice. Just when she felt ready to take a step forward alone, a bump appeared in the middle of the path. A spark of anger threatened, but she pushed it away. She
• 22 •
REMEMBER TOMORROW
couldn’t blame Arie for this. From what the police had told her, Arie hadn’t asked to see her. She had come on her own because she had no choice. She would make sure that Arie was getting the best care and then she would—what? Leave her to recover on her own?
“Ms. Bannigan?” Cees stood up, her hand going out automatically toward the man standing in front of her. He looked as if he had just awakened from a nap; his thin sweater and slacks were only slightly less rumpled than his bushy eyebrows. A white lab coat would have made Cees feel better. She had seen plenty of those in her lifetime, and they had always made her feel like there was someone with better sense than her to take care of the situation.
“The police called to tell me you were on your way.”
“How is she? They told me she was in a car accident,” Cees said.
Dr. Parrantt looked at Cees for a long moment over the rim of his glasses. He sighed as if tired and said, “Come with me.”
“Dr. Parrantt, please, I just want to see Arie.”
“You’ll see her in a moment, but Þ rst I’d like to—” His words were interrupted by a young male nurse.
“Dr. Parrantt, we have a problem with—”
“Dr. Davis is in the lounge. Get him.” The shocked look on the young male nurse’s face was enough to tell Cees that this was not Dr. Parrantt’s normal reaction. Her anxiety morphed into fear.
The doctor did not slow his pace until he opened a door marked with his name. Cees nervously took in the desk clutter and the massive number of awards and certiÞ cates on the man’s wall as she closed the door behind herself.
Dr. Parrantt ß ipped a switch on the wall, illuminating four boxes covered with Þ lms of some sort. He went quiet for a moment and then looked back at Cees with one bushy eyebrow raised.
• 23 •
GABRIELLE GOLDSBY
“Well, what do you see?” he asked.
This man must be hard on new doctors. Following his train of thought was next to impossible. Cees looked at the Þ lm smudges of white and black and then back at Dr. Parrantt.
“Am I supposed to know what this is?”
“This is a scan of Ms. Simon’s brain. This is a textbook CAT
of a healthy brain.”
“Oh, okay.” Cees stiß ed her impatience and obediently stared at the two pieces of Þ lm.
“You build things. Anything look incongruous to you?”
Cees looked at him again. He had either recognized her from the show, or the police had Þ lled him in. He had given her no indication that he recognized her when they had Þ rst been introduced. Cees stepped closer and scowled at the image. “They look the same. So her brain is healthy?” Cees bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from screaming, Why the hell you didn’t just tell me that in the Þ rst place?
“She was brought in unconscious. When she came to, she was so disoriented that we were afraid she might have internal bleeding. We did a full physical, CAT scan, blood work. Other then a minor concussion and some other injuries caused by her seat belt and airbag, we found no serious injuries. Besides the car accident, has Ms. Simon suffered any traumatic events recently?”
“I don’t…I haven’t seen her in several months. We argued.
Doctor, why are you asking me these questions? Why don’t you ask her? She would be able to give you more accurate information than I could.”
Dr. Parrantt sighed. “That’s why I brought you in here. I’m afraid Ms. Simon can’t give us any information. She doesn’t remember anything before the accident.”
Shock silenced Cees for several long moments. “That’s not—uncommon, is it? You said yourself she had a concussion.”
“I can’t swear that the concussion isn’t what’s causing Ms.
Simon’s memory loss, but I can tell you that contrary to what
• 24 •
REMEMBER TOMORROW
popular media would have us believe, this kind of thing is very unusual.”
“How unusual?”
“I’ve never had a case like it, and I’ve been practicing medicine over twenty years. I’ve c
onsulted with several of my colleagues, and I’m afraid I just don’t know.”
“But she will get better, right? She’ll remember eventually?”
“Ms. Bannigan, I wish I could give you a more concrete answer, but I can’t. I don’t really know what’s causing this.
Anything I tell you is nothing more than an educated guess.”
“All right, I’ll take your educated guess.”
“I believe that something caused Arieanna to forget. Whether it was physical or mental or both, I can’t say. She appears to be suffering from a dissociative fugue, which is why I asked about potential stressors in her life.”
Cees was shaking her head. “But she must remember something. The police told me she was calling my name when they brought her in.”
It was obvious to Cees that Dr. Parrantt was choosing his words carefully. “Yes, she was, but when she returned to full consciousness, she couldn’t tell us who it was she’d been calling for.”
Air ß ew from Cees’s lungs. She tried to catch his eyes with her own to steady herself. “She doesn’t remember who I am?”
It was the sympathetic look on the doctor’s face that caused Cees’s tears to well moments before he spoke the words that caused them to fall. “I don’t think you understand what I’ve been trying to tell you. Arieanna doesn’t even remember who she is, Ms. Bannigan.”
v
Arie’s eyes weren’t open, but Cees could tell by the way her chest rose and fell unevenly that she was awake.
• 25 •
GABRIELLE GOLDSBY
“Arie, I could come back if you aren’t up for a visitor?”
Cees pushed her glasses up on her nose and contemplated moving closer to the bed only to Þ nd herself arrested by Arie’s wary doe brown eyes.
“Hi.” Cees broke the silence between them Þ rst. Arie’s only reply was a blink. “Are you…should I call someone?”
“No.” The word sounded like paper being dragged over wood.
“Okay,” Cees said, disappointed that she wouldn’t have anyone with her for moral support.
Remember Tomorrow Page 2
