by Wild, Cassie
“I’ve lived on this street for three years,” Ava informed me. “You’ve been here lots of times.”
“Was my apartment near here?”
“Around fifteen, twenty minutes away. In a nicer part of town.” I heard no bitterness, no resentment in her voice. I was only just starting to relearn Ava and I could already tell she was the kind of person I was going to like.
“I took everything I could. The furniture had to stay, obviously. There’s no way it would fit in my tiny space, but I grabbed as many of your personal items and small appliances as I could,” She went on, her shoulders curled in apology.
When we stepped into her studio apartment, my heart swelled. I didn’t even remember her, but when I saw how the boxes and bags of things – my things – had overtaken the place, I could have kissed her.
The entire apartment consisted of a large room, divided between a kitchen and living room area, a bedroom and a bathroom. That was it. All of my clothing and what I assumed were the contents of my kitchen counters were crammed in wherever they’d fit. It was nearly impossible to see the threadbare, blue sofa buried under all the clutter.
“Ava,” I choked out, my throat clogged with tears all over again. I didn’t know if I was ordinarily an emotional person, but I’d been downright weepy over the past few days. I was incredibly moved by her compassion and the way she’d lovingly packed my boxes, never losing hope that I would wake up.
She saw the look on my face as I examined the stacks of boxes and trash bags, and how my chin trembled.
“Come here, braniac,” she cooed, wrapping me in a tight embrace.
I had no way to repay her, and I wasn’t certain when I’d have the means to get back on my feet, but I knew she wouldn’t kick me out. But I couldn’t keep myself from crying. Here I was, standing in the middle of my life. The contents of these boxes had once held meaning and precious memories for me, but like everything else in my life, all I saw were objects that could have belonged to anyone.
“We’ll have to make space on the sofa for you. It’s where you used to sleep when you’d stay over before. I’m sure we can rearrange some boxes,” Ava said, stepping away when my sniffling started to calm.
I felt like crap. For months, she’d been living like a hoarder, keeping all of my stuff for who knew how long. The last thing I wanted was to be a burden to my best friend. She wouldn’t and didn’t say it, but I could tell she was frazzled. No, I’d find a way to make this right, and soon.
***
Saturday was spent digging through the boxes in hopes that something would jog my memory. Pushing aside a box filled to the brim with professional-style navy blue skirts, blouses, and pressed khakis, I found a box stacked with framed photos. Goofy grins and smiling eyes flashed up at me through the frames. Ava and I as pre-teens with skinny, scabbed legs and tangled hair, hugging it out. We’d held up bunny ears behind each other.
“That’s us at graduation,” she said, pointing to the two of us holding our diplomas.
I could see what she meant when she called us opposites. I was wearing a multicolored rainbow of cords around my neck and what I assumed was an honor society stole in bright gold. My windswept blonde curls were long and sun-kissed, my lips were touched with peach lipstick and I had on the cutest kitten heels. Ava had multiple lip, brow and ear piercings. Her hair was even more colorful than it was now, with red and green streaks in addition to the purple. Funky, black and pink-checkered converse flashed from underneath her maroon graduation gown.
“Yeah, I got all those extra piercings just for the big day,” she smiled, bemused. “Wanted to freak the principal out one last time.”
“I’m the one who’s a little freaked out, honestly,” I told her. I put the picture down and spread my arms over the entire mess. “This is me. This is my stuff, my life, my memories, but none of it feels like me. I’m being told about things I did, and I believe you, I do, but it’s still hard to come to grips with.”
“I get it,” Ava said. “I’m sorry if I’m overwhelming you with all of this. We don’t have to do this right now.”
“Actually, there’s something else I’ve been thinking about doing, to try to jog my memory,” I held up my hands, signaling her to hear me out. “Don’t kill me but…I was thinking about going to see my mom.”
Ava’s eyebrows shot up. She opened her mouth, seemed to think better of it, closed it, and then managed, “Really? Are you sure? I mean, really, really sure because…” She trailed off, lost in thought.
“I mean, if I had a daughter, I’d want to know if she was okay,” I said. “Maybe she felt like I wouldn’t want to see her. I don’t remember exactly how we ended things. Maybe she thought I was angry with her, or something. I don’t know.”
My friend bit her lip, and I could tell she was trying to decide whether or not this was a good idea. She would know better than I would, after all. But finally she leveled that open gray gaze at me and said, “Well, if that’s what you really want to do, I’ll drive you over. I’m working tomorrow and most of this week, so it’ll have to be today.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re sort of my ride right now,” I said apologetically. “Thanks again for all of this.”
“You would do it for me,” she said as she picked up her keys.
***
“This is it, huh?” I asked. We were parked across the street from what Ava told me was my childhood home. It was a ramshackle place, tall, beige, and narrow with rotting black shingles and a torn screen in one of the upstairs windows.
Lovely.
“Uh-huh,” she affirmed, frowning. “That one to the right was my house. Looks like my parents still live there. Same old puke green curtains.”
I was such an idiot. I realized what a sacrifice she was making by bringing me here. I flashed back to the screaming matches from my dream and Ava’s shaking form. I caught her staring hard at the curtains of her childhood home, squeezing the steering wheel. Haunted. How could I forget? I had so few memories and I couldn’t even remember that Ava lived here once too. I shook my head, sickened that I’d caused her pain. “I won’t take long. I promise.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No…I think it might be best for me to go by myself. I’m not even sure what I’ll say,” I admitted.
“I’ll be right here waiting,” she answered, her eyes never straying from those ugly as sin curtains.
I got out of the car and pulled my coat tighter. I’d lost weight in the hospital apparently. All of my clothes were too big, but I had zero money to buy anything new right now. I had zero money for anything.
My heart was pounding as I rang the bell. I crossed my fingers that everything would go well.
I heard a shuffling noise on the other side of the door just before it opened a crack, the chain fixed in place. All I could make out were two bleary blue eyes and a lot of frizzy blonde hair, so now I knew where I got that from.
“Hi…Mom?” I said. She struggled to focus on me, squinting her red eyes hard enough to show every wrinkle on her face.
“Preslee,” she replied in a dead tone voice, completely devoid of emotion. “Guess you’re out of the hospital.” The lazy slur of her words suggested that she didn’t care either way.
“Yeah, um, Ava got me out. I’m staying with her now. I guess you don’t know this, but…” I struggled for the right words. “When I woke up, my memory was gone. I don’t remember you or me or anything else. I was hoping maybe you’d help me try to remember, Mom.”
Her eyes narrowed, then she barked out a disturbing, maniacal laugh that sent chills down my spine. “You don’t remember? Good for you. Maybe someday I’ll be able to forget all your shit.” With that, she slammed the door in my face. She had never even taken the chain off.
I stood there, staring at the closed door for a minute. That was my mother? No wonder I’d left.
I slid back in beside Ava.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t want you to go
through that, but you had to see for yourself.”
“Yeah.” I hugged myself. “Definitely one of those things you have to see to believe.”
***
By Monday, the stress had sank its claws in deep and refused to let go. The stack of bills from the hospital wasn’t getting any smaller. I felt like I was buried alive and running out of air, running out of time.
I’d made my decision.
Mr. Fields’ business card burned in my hand, but what other choice did I have? It would take me over a decade to pay off those bills, let alone get my own place and out of Ava’s hair. I would go and tell Mr. Fields I’d made a rash decision, a monumentally stupid mistake and beg for the money if I had to.
Ava had been nice enough to carpool to work so I could borrow her car. I was taking a chance driving. It was the first time behind the wheel since the accident and entirely illegal. My purse and phone had never been recovered from the scene of the accident. I had no license or identification, and I doubted my monogrammed necklace would appease a pissed off cop. Thankfully, Ava had an old flip-phone she’d given me. At least with that, I wasn’t completely disconnected from the world.
It was a short drive to the business district, but took much longer as I fought to make out Ava’s chicken scratch directions. As I walked into the offices of Quaid Fields and Associates, I was taken aback by the opulence and power that radiated from the stark lines and industrial steel. Furnished in elegant black leather and minimalist décor, I quickly ascertained that Quaid wasn’t the sham I’d thought he was, he was definitely the real deal.
Determined not to be intimidated by the wealth around me, I walked straight up to the flawless blonde receptionist who was totally engrossed in a fashion magazine. After a couple of minutes of listening to her clicking her expensively manicured nails while intentionally ignoring me, I coughed. She scowled and looked up from her magazine.
“Can I help you with something?”
I’m here to see Quaid Fields,” I replied, wearing my best smile.
Bored, she gazed at her computer, tapping away at the keyboard. “You have an appointment, Miss…?”
“Keats. Preslee Keats,” I answered. “No, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr. Fields told me to contact him anyti––”
“Sorry, Mr. Fields won’t see anybody without an appointment. If you’d like to make one, I can maybe fit you in next week?”
Great. This was a sign. I shouldn’t have come here. What was I thinking? “Listen, Miss…”
“Parker,” she supplied.
“It’s an emergency.”
She pursed her bubble gum pink lips and shook her head, absolutely no remorse whatsoever. “Would you like to schedule an appointment?”
“Never mind,” I turned, defeated and beyond furious at the rude receptionist.
As I walked away, I played back the conversation in my head, coming up with sarcastic lines to her snotty ones. I wasn’t paying attention and bumped straight into two hundred pounds of muscle. Thankfully, a strong arm caught me before my head crashed against the marble floor.
“I’m so sorry, miss. Totally my fault. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I think so. Thank you,” I said breathlessly as I looked up and found myself staring at one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen. And I was pretty sure I would’ve thought that even if I hadn’t had amnesia. I quickly gathered myself and brushed some invisible lint from my shirt. “I’m so sorry. I should look where I’m going. Please excuse me.”
“That’s quite all right. No harm done,” he insisted with a wide grin. “Are you here to see somebody?”
“Yes, actually, I was hoping to see Quaid Fields,” I told him.
The handsome stranger’s smile widened, brightening his whole chiseled face. A smooth square jaw met full lips and a strong, angular nose that led to twinkling powder blue eyes. Gorgeous. “You’re in the right place then. But that could be a while, though,” he said, then paused. “I’m sorry. Where are my manners. I’m Kris.” He extended his hand to shake.
Kris. That’s right. I remembered Quaid telling me that his son’s name was Kris, and that he was an associate at the firm.
I shook his hand and instantly felt a weird zing going through me. It had to be from the way his large hand swallowed mine and gave off an amazing amount of warmth.
“Preslee… Preslee Keats,” I stuttered like an idiot.
His eyes lit up. “Preslee Keats...you’re the young woman who was in a coma for months, right? I understand you lost most of your memory.”
Great! From here on out I’ll be known as amnesia girl. I simply nodded and tried to figure out a quick way to escape.
His eyes darted sideways as he glanced down the empty hallway. “Listen, Preslee. Quaid’s awfully busy today. Monday morning and all. Can I buy you a cup of coffee? There’s a little café downstairs. I’d love to hear your story. My treat.”
He’d said the magic word. Coffee. How could a girl resist?
***
We sat in the café for more than an hour. He was right, they did make a great cup. They also made fabulous muffins, both chocolate chip and banana nut. My appetite was coming back, even if my memory hadn’t. And considering how small I was, that was probably a good thing.
“So how are you doing now, since your accident?” he asked. Unlike his father, Kris had a genuine kindness about him, the kind that made me want to open up.
“My best friend is letting me stay with her – at least, she tells me she’s my best friend,” I amended. “She’s sweet. Now I guess I’m just trying to put the pieces back together.”
“I know how it feels, having to piece your life back together. You seem like a brave girl.”
I blushed. My entire body heated at his words, like I’d never gotten a compliment before. Then again, I really hadn’t. I think.
His smile put me at ease and I found myself telling him about how I’d been looking through pictures with Ava, needing her to tell me about the events.
“I’m sure you probably don’t want to hear this, but there are some good things about not being able to remember.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
He grinned at me and it made his eyes dance. “When I was seventeen, my best friend and I snuck out to go to this bar a couple miles from my house. I still don’t know how we got in, because neither of us looked anywhere close to twenty-one, but somehow, we found ourselves sitting at the bar, and trying to act like we belonged.”
He had a great voice. One of those voices a person could listen to all day.
“So the two of us were sitting there and this woman came up and started flirting with me. She’s gorgeous. Or at least I’m pretty sure she was, but I was pretty drunk. Anyway, long story short, the next morning, I woke up in a stranger’s bed. I rolled over, and it’s her. Except I suddenly realize that I’d seen her somewhere before. She was our dog walker.”
I burst out laughing.
“That’s not even the worst part,” he went on. “She made me give her fifty bucks or she’d tell my parents that I’d been at a bar.”
I shook my head, still laughing. “Why would you tell me something like that?”
He shrugged. “Some memories aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”
I thought of Ava and her parents. I thought of my mom telling me that she wished she could forget about me. But then I thought about the pictures I’d looked at, times I’d spent with Ava that I couldn’t recall.
“I’d take the bad if it meant I could remember the good too,” I said softly.
There was a moment of silence between us, and then his phone buzzed. He looked at it, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Wow, it’s been an hour already? I’m sorry, I really have to go.” He started to stand, and then stopped, his expression serious. “Listen, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’ll be there. Let me give you my private number. You can call me any time you want. If you remember something, anything at all, let me know. Okay?”
> I smiled and nodded as he wrote his number on the back of my napkin. Warmth flooded through me. I knew that Kris had given me his number as a professional courtesy, that he was merely getting all the facts to build my case, but that spark when he helped me up from my klutzy moment at the office, it hadn’t gone away the whole time we’d been chatting.
Like a true gentleman, he walked me to my car, and as he held the door open, I was rewarded with a charming, boyish smile. “Listen, Preslee. I know this sounds strange, since we just met and all, but I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner with me on Friday night?”
Chapter 7
Preslee
“I know you don’t know this, but it’s been way too long since you’ve dated,” Ava reminded me.
“Yeah, you told me that already,” I retorted. “My short-term memory is just fine. Besides, this is not a date.”
She made a sour face. “I just think it’s about time you found a nice guy. Before the accident, all you ever did was work and go to school and study. You’ve never had any idea how hot you are.”
I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of Ava’s bedroom door. I’d managed to find a cobalt blue dress that draped nicely over my barely-there curves and brought out the darker shades of blue in my eyes. My blonde curls were shiny and soft, and Ava had managed to save all of my makeup. I was nervous, my stomach cramping in anticipation. I’d spent well over an hour perfecting my natural-looking makeup. Nudes, roses, and browns met with blush and bronzer for a lush and fresh-faced finish. I paced the living room in my wedged heels and listened to Ava’s pep talk.
“You’ve been telling me all week what a sweetheart Kris is. And how did you put it? Deliciously sexy? He seems like the total opposite of his father. It’s a shame Kris didn’t visit you in the hospital instead.”
I smirked, arching a coy eyebrow. “It’s a good thing he didn’t. I’m not sure I could’ve said no to him.”
Ava snorted. “Something to keep in mind during your date.” She cleared her throat and nudged me playfully. I blushed.
