I Remember You

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I Remember You Page 7

by Mairsile Leabhair


  Vicky abandon her patience, and began ripping through the letters, reading and rereading them as fast as she could. Letter three, dated two months after the first:

  Dear Vicky, even though you’re not writing me back, I’m just gonna keep on writing you. I figure you must have really gotten in trouble, and that’s why you’re not writing me?

  Anyway, I’m thinking about moving up north. I hear there are some good paying jobs for girls in the bigger cities. I can barely afford the cost of a stamp, with what I make at the gas station, and I need to make more money so that I can send for you.

  I miss you… love Aid.

  “Oh my God!” She was going to send for me? Vicky sobbed for a very long time. That had always been her dream. That Aidan would swooped down on a white horse, and take her away, where they’d live happily ever after. If only she could remind Aidan of that. If only she could be with her now. There’s so very much to tell her, to remind her of, to love her for.

  Peeking through the bedroom door, concerned for her daughter, Alice asked, “Honey, are you all right?”

  Vicky looked up at her with bloodshot eyes, and tear stained cheeks. But at the sight of her mother, her cheeks turned red, her eyes narrowed with anger. “I have to go,” was the only answer Alice received.

  She gathered up the letters, place them back in the shoebox, and tucked it under her arm. Glaring at her mother, Vicky walked out the door without a word.

  Driving as fast as she dared, it still took forty‒five minutes to get back to the city, and her house. All the while, she kept glancing at the shoebox, the box full of Aidan’s letters, her dreams, her love. Now I can live your life with you. Somehow, knowing that Aidan wanted to send for her, put everything else into perspective. It answered all the ‘what ifs’, that she had carried with her since Aidan ran away, and to her, it was proof positive that they were meant to be together. She just needed to find a way to make that happen. When Vicky got home, she threw her keys down, kicked off her shoes, and sat on the couch with the shoebox full of letters on her lap. She was still there, come Monday morning.

  ***

  O’Brien’s Bar and Grill, where families come to eat, and forsaken people come to drink. Aidan sat at the bar, nursing a beer, depressed and alone. Wishing she had a cigar, though she wasn’t sure why, she picked at the label on the bottle instead. I’m such a shit. How do I explain to her that I’m developing feelings, strong, intense, feelings for her, but she’s in a relationship, and she’s my boss! What else could I have done? Aidan shook her head. For her, there was no other option. Though she couldn’t remember who she was, something inside told her, she wasn’t a home wrecker. It was instinctive, and Aidan lived by her instincts, because that’s all she had. She just hated hurting Vicky, like that.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  She looked up to see a handsome, young man standing beside her, “No, help yourself.”

  “Do you come here often?’

  “No, this is only my second time,” she replied, remembering the first time she came to this pub. The first time she saw the petite blond, with the inviting smile.

  “I’m here most nights, and haven’t noticed you before.”

  “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I just want to be alone.”

  He cocked his lip, “They all say that at first, you know?”

  “Trust me, I mean it. Now fuck off little girl.” Where did that come from? Her déjà vu was strong, but try as she might, she couldn’t pull it in.

  He got the message and left, but by then her sanctuary had been disrupted. She gulped down her beer and left also.

  ***

  With the shoebox full of letters by her side, Vicky sat on her couch, an afghan draped across her legs, a glass of wine in one hand and a letter in the other.

  Hi ya kid! Well, I’m still here in Little Rock. Almost have enough money to get me across the country. Next payday, I’m out of here!

  Hey, guess what. I learned how to change the oil in a car today. It was pretty messy, but I didn’t mind so much. Oh, and I found the car of my dreams! It’s a bitch’n Mustang. My boss won’t let me touch it, ha! He says it’s a classic muscle car, and I’m not old enough for such a car, yet. What a dick. When I get rich, I’m gonna own one of those Mustangs, just you wait and see if I don’t.

  “That’s exactly what you did, Aidan. And you looked bitch’n in it, too.” Vicky smiled at the vision of Aidan leaning against that car, “I wish you could remember that enough to tell me about it. I wish…”

  Well got to go. Uh… are you ever going to write me back? I tried to call you a couple of times, but your mom answered the phone, so I just hung up. I miss you, kid.

  Vicky’s anger began to resurface. The more letters she read, the angrier she became with her mother. How can I ever forgive her for this?

  Hey kid,

  Remember when we would lay under the tree in my backyard, and watch for a falling star? I wish we could do that again. I can’t see the stars anymore, because of all the lights around here. I miss you. I miss our talks. I miss sleeping over at your house, and I miss your mom’s cooking. I even miss your dad.

  She smiled, remembering that Aidan was always afraid of her father. Not because he was mean to her, but because Aidan’s own father was. Even through that fear, Aidan liked Mr. Montgomery, because she knew that Vicky did.

  You know I was always afraid of your father, but he really wasn’t so bad, when I think about it. He was a helluva lot better than my old man, that’s for sure. I use to sneak in to the living room after you fell asleep, and sit out of sight of him, and watch baseball on TV. I would imagine that he and I were watching the game together. Stupid huh?

  Anyway, please write me back.

  Love you, kid, Aidan

  The sadness, the bottomless pit of emptiness, began to take over Vicky’s emotions. Between sobs of longing, she envisaged the what if’s, the many thousands of if only’s. If only her mother had let her have these letters. She knew she could have convinced Aidan to come home. If only she had known, things would have been so different. If only Aidan would get her memory back. If only…

  She picked up her cellphone and walked over to the window, pulling the curtains to the side, so she could see the night sky. Taking a deep breath, she dialed Aidan’s number. She just needed to hear her voice, to know she was real, to know she hadn’t run away again. Well, she has run away, emotionally, but… It was answered on the first ring, but when she heard Aidan say hello on the other end, Vicky panicked and ended the call. She was suddenly afraid of more rejection. God, what am I, thirteen years old again? If only…

  *

  On the other side of town, Aidan looked at the phone curiously. Could it have been Vicky? She wished, but knew better. Feelings of guilt weighed heavy on her mind, even though she felt she was doing the right thing. But the right thing had hurt Vicky, and she knew that couldn’t be right. So now, in the late hours of the night, Aidan paced back and forth. But living in such a small apartment, even her pacing became frustrating. Deciding to play some music on her laptop, she sat down and opened the lid. Then she remembered Vicky’s book. She was suddenly eager to read it, just to escape her torment, if for no other reason. Who are you kidding Cassidy, this is your way to be near her. She inserted the drive into the USB port, and clicked play on her favorite playlist.

  The cover page read, ‘My Life as a CEO’ (working title) by Victoria Ann Montgomery. As the book downloaded, Aidan grabbed a beer from the fridge, then settle back on her couch, propped her legs up on the coffee table, and began reading the introduction page.

  I believe that who you are, as an adult, is a combination of choice and influence. As a child, your parents are instrumental in constructing your foundation, and influencing your growth, both physically and emotionally. But if you don’t have that kind of influence, you seek it out, just as my best friend did.

  I am who I am today because I had a best friend as a child, who taught me to apprecia
te what I had. She had nothing. Her mother was dead, and her father was abusive. With no positive parental influence to guide her, I believe she had to make a choice, at a very early age, whether to be good or to be bad. Her life was bad, the abuse was bad, but she was good, with a solid, loving heart. This book is dedicated to her and the choices she made.

  This book is also dedicated to my best friend, Joyce, who believed in me enough to tell me to take back my life and get on with it. She always listened and encouraged me, no matter how many times she’d heard it before. A girl couldn’t ask for a better best friend. Thanks, Joyce.

  And finally, to God goes the glory.

  Life is a choice. Granted, you don’t have a choice as to gender or sexual orientation. But what you do with that life, is your choice. When I was thirteen, I experienced the worse thing a child could experience. I was raped. To be raped at such a young age can cause you to make some serious negative choices in life. I didn’t tell anyone about the rape, or who raped me. In fact, writing about it for this book, is the first time I’ve spoken of it since it happened. But that is my choice.

  Aidan looked up from the monitor screen and thought, my God, what strength this woman has. She’s had to endure so much and yet, she is the most outgoing, endearing person, I’ve ever met. What courage she has. And here I sit, wallowing in self‒pity, because I can’t control my damn hormones? Well that shit stops now. I can be friends with her. We can have a friendship. That’s all she wanted anyway…, right?

  Aidan did not leave her apartment the entire weekend. Instead, she ordered pizza delivery, and read Vicky’s book.

  Chapter 6

  “Maintenance. I’m here to fix the chair in Ms. Montgomery’s office, ma’am.”

  Yvonne looked up from her computer to find a tawny, young man, in a maintenance uniform, looking pensive at her. He was holding a tool box in one hand, and a pair of work gloves in another. She knew she hadn’t called them, but perhaps Vicky had. She often would take care of things like that herself. Yvonne nodded towards Vicky’s office, just as Aidan walked in.

  “Good morning ma’am, do you have her agenda for me, this morning?”

  “Good morning Aidan, here you go,” She handed her a printed copy of Vicky’s agenda for the day.

  “Wow, it looks like a busy day.”

  “Well, it’s a Monday,” Yvonne chuckled.

  Aidan folded up the paper and tucked it in her back pocket. Her first assignment with Vicky was a meeting with the Cardiology Board. She thought that would make a good picture; Vicky working side by side with surgeons. Walking down the hallway, Aidan saw Vicky walking toward her, a briefcase in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other, with her cell phone, secured to her ear by her shoulder.

  “Good morning, ma’am.” Aidan greeted her with a smile.

  “Good morning, Ms. Cassidy,” came the terse response as she walked by, still speaking on her phone, “Jack, what’s this I hear about an employee in the cafeteria, caught red handed, stealing equipment? Why the hell is he still here?”

  Aidan watched her walk by, and felt the sting of rejection. Shit, this is not going to be easy. I think I might have overdone it.

  Vicky quickened her pace, as much to relieve herself of the urge to apologize to Aidan, as to get to her office. She didn’t see the maintenance man, as he came barreling around the corner.

  “Sorry, ma’am, wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  “Damn it!” Vicky uncharacteristically blurted out, “Oh. No, I’m sorry, it was my fault.” Seeing Aidan first thing, and being called ma’am again, put Vicky on the defensive. Sleep deprived and distracted, she was wound tight. The foreboding feeling that she was never going to get Aidan back, didn’t help matters any. It was hard for her to separate the loving, caring letters, written by her childhood friend, from the impassive barricade the adult Aidan had erected. “What?” she jerked the phone back to her ear, “Oh, sorry Jack, you were saying?”

  At the cardiology board meeting, which was not as formal as the corporate meetings, Aidan watched, as Vicky purposely took a seat at the side of the table, instead of at the head, where one would expect her to sit. She sat erect, her back never touching the chair, not necessarily because it was good posture, but because it gave the illusion of height, putting her at eye level with the physicians. Aidan noticed she smiled when appropriate, and became stern, when needed, though she seemed a bit testy today. She was never condescending, though, and she never lost her composure. She was professional, but approachable.

  Aidan snapped a few pictures, trying to position the angle so that Vicky was the center focus, though she was surrounded by physicians. It was important to Aidan that Vicky look her best in these photos, not just because she wanted to be professional at her job, but because she wanted people to see Vicky’s inner beauty.

  “Ms. Cassidy, thank you, I think that’s enough pictures for now,” Never looking up from her papers, Vicky waved her hand, as if to dismiss Aidan.

  Aidan was taken aback by her sternness, and obvious irritation, “Uh, of course, Ms. Montgomery.” She left the room and walked down the hallway, wondering how she could make this right. Okay, I deserved that. This is my fault, I did this. Now, how do I fix it? What can I do to show her we can still work together? Just because she’s spoken for, doesn’t mean we can’t be friends… does it?

  “Hey, doll.”

  Aidan turned around to find Kate walking towards her. “Hey Kate. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, but it looks like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet. Everything all right?”

  “Uh, sure, Just trying to figure some things out.”

  “Flowers, or better yet, something surprising. That always works for me.”

  “What?” Then she understood, “Oh. Thanks!” Aidan ran down the hallway and out the back door, like a woman on a mission. Thirty minutes later, she walked up to Yvonne’s desk with a shopping bag in her hand.

  “Aidan, can I help you?” Yvonne asked.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’d like to leave this for her, if that’s all right”

  “You’re welcome to put it in her office, if you like.” Yvonne pointed to the open door of Vicky’s office.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Aidan, don’t call me ma’am, please.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Aidan looked around the office, taking in how well decorated it was. She liked Vicky’s taste. Hanging on the walls were pictures of Vicky with heads of state, even past presidents, including the popular, President Trenton. But except for the current President of the United States, President Robert Sherman, she didn’t know who they were, only that they must be important, because they were hanging on Vicky’s wall. Then she saw a picture of Vicky with Carol Burnett. She grinned, “Perfect!” She knew who that was, because they played the DVD’s of her show at rehab. Though the variety show had long since been off the air, it was Aidan’s favorite. She deposited her gift on Vicky’s desk, and left the office with a satisfied smile on her face.

  *

  It was late afternoon by the time Vicky finished her third meeting in a row. She swung by the physician’s lounge, got her lunch and carried it back to her office. Slumping down into her chair, her thoughts immediately turned to Aidan, and the fear that she might have been too hard on her. Taking a bite of her salad, she asked herself if that wasn’t what Aidan wanted? Strictly business, right? She’s the boss, Aidan’s the employee, nothing more. Suddenly nauseous, Vicky ran to the bathroom, and emptied her stomach. As she washed her face with a cold cloth, she said to herself, serves me right, only thinking about myself like that. She looked at herself in the mirror, and patting her stomach, she smiled and walked back to her desk.

  She scanned the nearly two hundred emails in her inbox. Oy‒vey. I’ll save those for later. Then she noticed an envelope with her name on it, that sat to the right of her computer. When she picked it up, she saw a DVD boxed set of The Carol Burnett Show, and a gift card for pizza delivery. Vic
ky opened the card, which had a sad looking kitten on the cover.

  Inside, it read, I’m sorry, and the handwritten sentiment read, “I was a jerk. I’m sorry. Let’s be friends, okay? Enjoy the show and pizza, on me. Aidan Cassidy”

  Vicky smiled, relieved and happy. Hoping this meant they would be closer now, she tucked the card into her briefcase. I wonder what changed her mind? Though, truth be told, she didn’t really care, as long as things between them were good again.

  ***

  The rest of the week went much more smoothly for the two women. They were cautious, but open to the budding friendship. On the outside, Aidan remained stoic, still keeping the relationship strictly on the boss ‒ employee level. On the inside, she was losing the battle. Irritated with herself for turning to jelly, every time she was near the woman, she resorted to stuffing her hand in her slacks pocket, and jabbing herself in the leg with her keys. It didn’t take long before the bruise on her thigh ended that strategy.

  Vicky, on the other hand, wanted to know much more about Aidan. She had the letters to tell her a little about her teenage years. But they were lacking in enough detail to answer all her questions. And Aidan couldn't answer those questions, because she had no memory of that time, and no knowledge of the letters she had written. It was as if her life started on the day she woke up in the hospital.

 

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