Lost Memories

by Curry, Edna

  “I hope they count these slippers as shoes,” she said with a little laugh.

  “Don’t worry. That sign is there mainly to discourage the tourists from the Interstate Parks from coming in to eat in their swimming suits,” Mel told her.

  “Don’t let him kid you, Jane,” Marion put in. “The men all love it when the girls come up town in only their bikinis.”

  “There’s a park here?”

  “Yes, Minnesota Interstate.” He pointed to a spot across the street where she could see rocks and trees lining the river. “It begins just below the bridge, there. It goes on down river for quite a ways. And there’s another one on the other side of the river run by Wisconsin. Both parks draw thousands of tourists every year, especially from the Twin Cities.”

  “Let’s sit over here in the smoking section,” Marion said. She glanced at Jane. “You don’t mind if I smoke, do you, Jane?”

  Jane shook her head and watched Marion take a cigarette from a pack in her purse. “Want one?” Marion asked. “Or don’t you smoke?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t smoke,” Jane said. How do I know that? But I’m sure I don’t. I don’t feel any desire at all to join Marion in lighting up.

  “Darn, I forgot my lighter,” Marion said. She glanced at Mel, who shook his head.

  “You know I don’t smoke.”

  Marion shrugged and lit her cigarette from the flame in the red pebbled-glass candle holder on their table. Marion was tall and slim, with shoulder length black hair. Her fingernails were very long and perfectly polished in a bright crimson shade.

  Jane couldn’t help hiding her own damaged fingernails in her lap. I need to find an emery board first thing, to smooth my damaged nails. And some nail polish remover, too. But I don’t have any money to buy those things or to have my nails done by a manicurist like I usually do.

  She caught her breath. How do I know that?

  She stared out the window. She saw herself watching her nails soak in a pretty dish of warm soapy solution, a manicurist in a neat black and white uniform sitting in front of her. Then the flash of memory was gone. She had no idea when or where this event had taken place.

  Had that manicure been a one-time luxury or could she afford one on a regular basis? She wished she knew.

  The waitress arrived, took their orders and left again. Mel and Marion began telling Jane about their little tourist town.

  “It gets pretty quiet around here in the wintertime,” Mel said. “But from now until after the leaves fall, it’ll be busy. Lots of tourists from all over the world come through here. They like climbing the rock cliffs and seeing the rock formations in the parks. And they enjoy the river.”

  Jane shuddered. “I can’t imagine why.”

  “There’s a lot to do on the river, canoeing, picnicking and swimming,” Marion defended it. “People who live in the Twin Cities, especially, like to see open land, trees and rocks instead of sidewalks and pavement.”

  “I suppose,” Jane murmured. The waitress brought their food and she was spared explaining why the river upset her.

  Mel said sympathetically, “I’m sure Jane doesn’t want to think about the river after her bad experience with it, Marion.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Marion said, blushing. “I didn’t think.”

  They ate their hamburgers and fries. “That tasted wonderful,” Jane said. She sipped her coffee, trying to prolong the time with them. She had no idea what was to become of her. It was a wonder she’d been able to eat at all with so many nervous butterflies fluttering about in her stomach.

  The waitress brought their check and left again.

  Jane swallowed at the knowledge that the time had come to leave.

  She glanced at Mel and he smiled. “Jane, I have both an apartment above my accounting office and my cabin,” he told her. “You’re welcome to stay in my apartment until you recover your memory and know where your home is.”

  Jane stared at him, openmouthed. Relief flooded through her at his words. I’m not going to be homeless or have to hunt for a place to sleep tonight? That’s too good to be true. “You’d let me stay there? But I don’t have any money to pay you,” she objected. “And I can’t put you out of your home.”

  “You don’t need to pay me. And you’re not putting me out,” Mel said. “I’ll stay in my cabin. I often do anyway, it’s no big deal.”

  I can’t believe this. What’s the catch? “Why would you do that for me?”

  “Call it my good deed for the month.” Mel’s mouth twisted in a silly grin.

  “That’s the way Mel is. He can’t even turn away a stray cat,” Marion said. “He has one now he took in and named Tuxedo…Oh, dear. I didn’t mean that you’re a stray or anything…” she said, her cheeks turning bright pink at Mel’s frown. “Me and my big mouth,” she muttered under her breath.

  Jane laughed and assured Marion, “That’s okay. I know what you mean.” She turned to Mel and gave him a grateful smile. “I accept your kind offer of a roof over my head until I remember where I belong. I promise to pay you back when I can.”

  “There’s no need to do that. Don’t worry about it,” Mel said, putting money down on the table to cover the check. “Ready to go?”

  “Let’s make a stop at my place first,” Marion said. “I have some clothes and stuff for you, Jane.”

  “Sure,” Mel agreed, taking the need for an answer from Jane.

  Her step much lighter now, Jane walked with them out of the restaurant and back to Mel’s car.

  Marion had a small, white frame house a few blocks away. She invited them inside and waved them to a seat in her neat living room, then headed down the hall.

  In a minute she was back with a blue nylon duffel bag and a small bag. “I took the liberty of putting a few things together for you to use temporarily,” she said. “They’re nothing fancy, just slacks, blouses and a nightgown. If you want to stop at my shop in the morning, we can fit you with some under things.”

  “But I don’t have any money,” Jane protested.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Marion said. “I can afford a gift or two once in a while. This make-up bag is just an extra one I don’t need,” she added. “I put the essentials for a manicure in it. I hope you like the color of the nail polish, it’s as close as I had to what you’re wearing.”

  Jane’s eyes misted. Trust another woman to know what I need. Did Marion notice me hiding my hands whenever I could? “You’re both so kind. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  Marion smiled. “Just get better. I don’t like the idea of someone getting hurt in our little town. It ruins our neighborly image.”

  They said goodnight to Marion and Mel drove her to a white frame two story house.

  Mel picked up her duffel bag and they went inside. Jane looked around the large room that was probably meant to be the living room when the house had been built.

  Mel waved a hand at the desk with a computer and the piles of paper on various side tables in the room and said, “The lower half of this building is my accounting office. The upper floor is my living area where you’ll be staying.”

  He led the way up a wide, carved stairway along the wall and into a neat kitchen and living area combined. “It’s nothing fancy,” he said, putting down her duffel bag.

  A large black cat walked to them and rubbed against Mel’s leg, meowing hello. He reached down and petted it. “This is Tuxedo. He pretty much takes care of himself, as long as I feed him and change his litter box. I hope you don’t mind cats?”

  “I love cats. I’ll bet you named him that because he looks like he’s wearing a tuxedo,” Jane laughed. “He has white under his chin like a shirt and his white paws look like cuffs sticking out.”

  Mel laughed. “You guessed right. The bedroom’s through there and a bathroom connects to it. Make yourself at home. There’s a radio and cable TV. There’s probably not too much food in the refrigerator, but there should be some essentials, anyway. I eat out a lot. I’m not much
of a cook. We can shop for whatever you want tomorrow.”

  “It looks wonderful. Thank you so much.”

  “Well, it beats a cot in the jail anyway.”

  “Jail!” Jane exclaimed turning to him in consternation.

  Mel laughed. “I didn’t mean you’d be locked up there or anything. But the local jail was one possibility of a safe place for you to sleep until you got your memory back.”

  “Oh!” she said. “Well, I suppose a jail cot would be better than sleeping under a bridge, which is where I was envisioning myself sleeping tonight.”

  Mel frowned. “We’d never let that happen to a lovely gal like you!”

  Lovely gal? She eyed him curiously. Does he really think I’m attractive? I sure don’t feel like it in these stained slacks, borrowed blouse and hospital slippers.

  “Well, I’ll just grab some clothes and my shaving gear and head off to the cabin,” he said. He went to the bedroom and returned carrying a small bag. “Be sure to keep the doors locked and don’t let anyone in,” he cautioned.

  “Of course I won’t,” she said.

  He hesitated at the door. “If any reporters find out where you are and start calling, just let the answering machine pick up. The less you tell them the better right now, I think.”

  She frowned. Yes, she knew she had to avoid reporters. “There’s nothing to tell them. I already told the one who came to see me at the hospital that I’ve lost my memory temporarily and don’t remember anything. Why should they want to see me again?”

  “Each paper has their own reporters and they can be persistent,” Mel explained. “I just think it’s better to avoid them.”

  “All right,” she said doubtfully. Wasn’t she safe here?

  “I’ll lock the downstairs door as I leave,” Mel said. “You can always open it from inside, of course, so you’re not locked in,” he assured her.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “I’ll be back in the morning when I come to my office to work,” he added. “Goodnight.”

  After he’d left, Jane sat at the kitchen table and opened the purse Marion had given her to try to repair her damaged nails. She found some money as well as the manicure supplies Marion had promised were in it. Jane’s eyes misted. Marion must have guessed how it would feel to be totally without money. What a nice gesture.

  She used the nail polish remover to get rid of the chipped polish, then smoothed away the roughness of her broken nails with the emery board. She shortened the longer ones to be closer in length to the others. She couldn’t do much about their uneven length, but they’d grow in time. Then she applied several coats of polish.

  Marion had included a hairbrush and a hair clip as well. Jane brushed her hair and donned the pajamas. Every muscle in her body ached, probably from the over-exertion of her marathon efforts at swimming yesterday, along with the bruising from the rocks. The doctor had given her some pain pills, so she took a couple of those tablets with water and went to bed.

  Hours later she awoke, screaming. She sat up, drenched in sweat. Her heart pounded so fast she was panting. She’d dreamed of fighting with some man, then of being in the river again.

  She shuddered. The water had been so cold and she was fighting so hard to get to the surface for air. She’d been afraid of drowning. But she had no idea who the man was, nor could she remember much about him, only that she was very afraid of him.

  If that man had been at the dam with her when she’d fallen in, as the sheriff said, why hadn’t he stayed to help find her? Why hadn’t he come to the hospital to claim her?

  The only answer seemed to be the one Mel had offered. The person had pushed her into the river on purpose, and then disappeared. Every fiber of her wanted to reject that answer. Yet he’d disappeared.

  Had he really intended for her to drown and then run away, thinking he had succeeded? Had he really not cared what happened to her? How could anyone be that cruel? Why had she been with someone like that at all? Was she really that poor a judge of character?

  None of this made any sense. She got up and found some water and another pain pill, then went back to bed, with no more answers than before.

  It was a long time before she could go back to sleep. The worst of it was that she knew it wasn’t only a dream. She’d been reliving the truth. The person Mel had seen was a man who had wanted to kill her. And she had come very close to drowning in that river, so he’d almost succeeded.

  Chapter 5

  When Jane awoke, the sun was shining. She’d managed to sleep for a few hours without the nightmare returning. She showered and brushed her long hair. It definitely looked better than it had yesterday.

  The white slacks she’d been wearing when she went into the river were stained and torn beyond repair. So Jane dressed in the slacks and blouse Marion had packed for her and made herself some coffee and toast.

  When she heard Mel arrive downstairs, she poured a second mug of coffee and carried it down to him.

  “Good morning,” she said, handing him the coffee. He looked so handsome in casual navy slacks and a blue cotton shirt open at the neck and no tie. Dark chest hair peeked through the unbuttoned shirt. She itched to touch it, to see if it was as crisp and springy as it looked.

  He smiled as he returned her greeting, but seemed surprised to see her. “Thanks. How are you feeling?”

  She shrugged and gave him a rueful grin. “Like I was run over by a truck,” she admitted. “But I can’t just sit there watching TV all day.”

  He frowned. “You should be resting, shouldn’t you? Don’t you want to go back to bed?”

  “No. I’m too restless to sleep.” She didn’t want to tell him she was afraid to go back to sleep. The nightmares were too realistic and frightening. Better to stay awake and see what was happening around her.

  Heat swirled through her when he reached out a hand and gently turned her to see the stitches on her arm.

  “That’s starting to heal. Do you remember anything more yet?”

  “No, nothing.” Her voice sounded depressed, even to herself.

  “That was a nasty scrape on your cheek, too. Does it hurt much?”

  “Not as much as my head and arm do.”

  “Do you want some aspirin?”

  She shook her head. “The doctor gave me some pain medication. Do you mind if I stay down here with you? I don’t like being alone.”

  He nodded, but looked uncomfortable. “Of course you can. But I have a lot of paperwork to do. I’ll be on the computer most of the day.”

  “That’s okay. Don’t pay any attention to me. I’ll just read a magazine or something for awhile.”

  She turned away. Her presence evidently made him nervous. She didn’t know why his rejection of her hurt so much, but it did. Of course he had to work. He couldn’t stop living just because she’d dropped in on him and had nowhere else to go.

  She moved to his waiting area and stared out the window for a while, but the view of the river and the cliff from which she’d fallen were too depressing. She moved to a chair and picked up a magazine from the rack beside it.

  Mel was working at his computer, and occasionally turned away from it to run some figures on an adding machine, then turned back and worked at the keyboard once more. She was surprised to find her fingers itched to help him, to get at that keyboard and adding machine herself.

  I wonder what I do for a living? I’ll bet I work in an office and that my job has something to do with numbers, too. Being here in an office seemed so familiar and right.

  Watching him work was nice, too. For some reason, she found everything he did fascinating. She tried to read, but found it impossible to concentrate on the magazine. Instead, her eyes kept straying to him.

  From frequent glances, she soon knew every unconscious facial expression he made as he worked. The way his long fingers raked through his wavy dark brown hair, leaving it mussed, though still attractive. The way dark hairs peeked out from above his wrists where he’d rolled the long sle
eves of his shirt up.

  When clients arrived, they looked at her curiously. To keep busy, she greeted them and offered them coffee as they waited to talk to Mel.

  She couldn’t help noticing how patient and reasonable his deep voice was as he talked to clients and outlined the pros and cons of the various business options he gave them to consider. He caught her watching him and grinned at her.

  When the phone rang for the umpteenth time and Mel handed it to her, she was glad of a distraction.

  “It’s Marion,” he said.

  “Good morning. Are you ready to come shopping?”

  “Sure,” Jane said, knowing she shouldn’t be spending money she didn’t have and would feel obligated to repay somehow. Yet she’d readily agreed, as though shopping was a regular part of her life.

  Jane hung up the phone and turned to Mel. “She says she’ll bring me back by mid-afternoon. She wants to take me out for lunch, too.”

  “Fine,” Mel said, glancing up from his computer. “Have a good time.”

  Dejected, Jane went back upstairs to freshen up and get her purse. He didn’t have to seem so pleased to be rid of me.

  Marion took her back to her dress shop and soon had her fitting on various bras, panties and shoes.

  “Until your feet heal completely, you’ll need something comfortable to walk in, yet look nice. These beaded soft leather moccasins should do nicely. Try them on.”

  Jane slipped into them and took a few steps. “It feels almost like I’m walking barefoot in them,” she said, wiggling her toes. “And the beige color is neutral enough to go with most colors, too.”

  “Exactly,” Marion said. “And I think some soft cotton anklets instead of nylons for now. Cotton lets your feet breathe.”

  “Yes. But Marion, I told you, I don’t have any money. I can’t buy all these things.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll write them off on taxes.”

  “I can’t let you do that. You can’t earn that much in a small town. I’ll get a job of some kind if I don’t get my memory back.” Of course she could. There must be plenty of jobs she could do even if she didn’t know what kind of training she had. She could learn to do something, couldn’t she? Even if it wasn’t a great job.