The Nostalgia Effect

by EJ Valson

  As my eyes roam through the rows of drills, hand saws, hammers and whatever else a man might like, I realize that I have no idea what I'm looking for. I give up on my search for that type of item and head over to the barbecue and patio section.

  We have an outdoor grill, but it looks a little old and rusted. I decide this is the opportunity to do something nice for Joe, because even though he doesn't know it, he has made what started out as a nightmare much more tolerable.

  After finding a nice, red, shiny grill, new grilling tools and a cover, I convince the store manager to sell me the demo model so that I can buy it assembled. Telling him it was a gift for our anniversary seemed to do the trick, as he remarked that I knew the way to a man's heart.

  I tell him I'll be able to reassemble the base myself once I get home, so that it will fit in my car. Then I call work and tell Ruth I'm having car trouble and I may not be able to come back in today. After putting down the back seats, moving Olivia's booster seat to the front and cursing the grill while wrestling it into the car, I'm finally on my way.

  I decide to stop at the supermarket and grab a couple of nice steaks, a bottle of wine, a six pack of beer, French bread, baked potatoes and salad. This is what I'd do for Michael, so I hope that Joe will appreciate it as well.

  When I get home I'm sticky with sweat from the afternoon heat. I hustle to get the grill into the backyard and set up near the patio table. I'm grateful that the September evenings are starting to cool down a bit, allowing for a lovely outdoor dining experience.

  Joe...well, I guess "we"...have done a nice job of landscaping the backyard. Mature shrubs create a lush appearance along parts of the tall wooden fence and there's a large brick patio directly outside of the dining room next to a spacious patch of soft green grass for Olivia to play on. There are even tiki lanterns and hanging outdoor lights around parts of the yard. It's sort of been my sanctuary amidst the chaos of this confusing new/old life.

  After setting up the grill and festooning it with a red bow I found in a box labeled "Christmas," I head to the kitchen to marinate the steak and prepare the potatoes. If I time it just right, I will have an hour left to shower and freshen up before Joe gets home.

  When I'm done with my preparations, I call work one more time and am grateful when Ruth's voicemail picks up so I don't have to lie to her directly. I continue with my story about the car and how I'm taking it into the shop, but won't be back until Monday. I seem to have mastered playing hooky without guilt, because I really could care less that I'm not there.

  I savor a nice hot shower, taking my time to wash my hair and have a good scrub. Even if I'm not celebrating this occasion with Michael, I'll still do my best to make it special for Joe. He works hard and I'm sure not having to get dressed up to take me to dinner and a movie will be appreciated. However, I only hope he doesn't expect anything later. I will have to come up with an excuse to get out of that as well.

  After getting dressed, I check the potatoes in the oven. They're ready to prepare with my signature twice-baked potato filling. Michael loves this recipe, which makes me feel a little sad as I start the process. I turn on the radio, open the bottle of wine and pour myself a glass to relax. I don't have to rush anymore, so I might as well take my time and enjoy cooking.

  I'm not used to having the house to myself. I appreciate the feel of the cool tiled floor under my bare feet. I'm comfortable in the black sleeveless summer dress I've put on, but I also feel pretty. I close my eyes and imagine Michael coming up behind me and hugging me like he often does when I am cooking. Once again, I miss him and long for his familiar affection. My heart begins to ache with sadness.

  CHAPTER 23

  After finishing prep work in the kitchen, I sit quietly in the living room, sipping my wine and enjoying old music that takes me back to my high school days. The potatoes are in the oven, the salad is made, so all I have to do is wait. Awhile later I hear the sound of a diesel engine approaching and my ears almost perk up like a dog's. Joe is home.

  I run to the dining room and open the French doors to the patio, making it more obvious when he walks in the house that I'm outside. Then I quickly grab a beer out of the fridge, pop off the top, pick up my glass of wine from the coffee table and scurry out to stand near the new grill.

  I down a gulp of wine to calm my nerves and instantly feel it kick in. I wait several minutes, as Joe tends to take his time. I hear the door close inside the house, then he calls for me.

  "I'm out here," I call back. A minute later Joe's head appears in the doorway and he glances around the yard before spotting me. His eyes immediately go to the grill and light up. A big smile spreads across his face.

  "What's this?" he says, grinning widely. I can't help but smile back at his expression.

  I hand him his beer and raise my glass. "Happy Anniversary," I say.

  After Joe inspects his new grill, he leaves to take a shower, then returns and begins cooking our steaks to perfection.

  "Well done, right?" he asks, as the steaks sizzle on the grill.

  "No, medium rare," I reply.

  "Really?" he asks, his eyes wide open in surprise. My taste for steak has changed over the years. I shrug and nod, then he turns back to his task.

  When the steaks are done we sit down and begin eating at the table outside. "These potatoes are awesome. Where did you learn to make them?" he asks before taking another big bite.

  "Just something I came across," I reply smiling, while cutting my succulent and perfectly cooked steak. I have to say, the man can certainly grill.

  When we're finished we sit back and enjoy the evening light, with another beer for Joe and a glass of wine for me. Joe isn't much for constant conversation, so instead we sit in silence-gazing out towards the budding sunset. Music floats into the yard from inside the house. The night is still and calm. I close my eyes and let the setting sun graze my face before it slips behind the distant hills.

  "Do you remember that time we went to California after graduation and blew a tire," Joe asks, chuckling. I laugh out loud. I'd forgotten about that, but it was pretty funny. I remember how we struggled to change the flat tire on the side of the road. Two young, clueless kids.

  The wine and beer continue to flow as we reminisce about camping trips we took when we were younger and other happier times that I could actually remember. I'd forgotten all of these moments over the years. Maybe I'd buried them because they weren't important to me anymore. After all, our story was over. Wasn't it?

  We're still sitting on the patio when night falls. It's pleasant enough to be outdoors without a sweater. The moon is hanging high, and stars shine bright above us. Crickets are chirping in the nearby field, while the rest of the neighborhood is peaceful.

  Another old country favorite begins playing on the stereo. Joe looks at me, raises his eyebrows, sets his beer down and stands up. He comes around to my side of the table and holds out his hand. I gulp the rest of my wine before placing the glass on the table, then slowly rise while taking his hand.

  Without speaking we embrace into a slow dance. It feels easy and natural. Probably because I've danced with him more times than I can count. We move slowly, not talking. When the song ends Joe pulls back and looks into my eyes, but says nothing. Without thinking, I lean in and kiss him fully.

  CHAPTER 24

  I've never felt as much guilt and regret as I do right now, laying here in the dark. My head is still swirling from the wine, my mouth is dry, my stomach is in knots and I'm on the verge of throwing up. I hate myself, I loathe myself, I want to crawl in a hole. I'm feeling horribly guilty for doing something that's only natural between a husband and wife. I hate my body for feeling like I don't belong to him, and for not knowing where it belongs. My emotional confusion adds to my physical distress.

  I roll over and pretend to be asleep when Joe comes back to bed after a trip to the bathroom. I wait to hear him breathing heavily before easing out of bed, grabbing a robe and tiptoeing out of the room. I'm fe
eling suffocated and in need of air, as I hurry to the patio.

  The moon lights up the backyard and the stars are still glowing in the sky. Damn this evening! It set the mood for everything. I collapse into the first chair I find and sob quietly with my knees pulled up to my chest-arms around them, squeezing tight. What have I done? Why did I do it? Why does it hurt so much that I did?

  I take a deep breath and try to quiet my shaky sobs. Looking up hopefully to the starlit sky, I imagine Michael sleeping peacefully somewhere. I long for him to comfort and hold me. I want to hear the beating of his heart as he embraces and protects me from myself.

  "Where are you?" I whisper into the night.

  CHAPTER 25

  On Monday morning I head back into my usual routine with great relief. I've been more somber and sad over the past two days than I've been since first arriving in this life. I'm homesick and disappointed in myself. The worst part is that I can't tell Michael-I can't tell anyone.

  At around 10:00 a.m. my cell phone begins buzzing in my purse. Though I don't recognize the number, I answer it anyway. "Hello?" I say quietly.

  "Jennifer? It's Astrid," her soothing voice replies.

  I'm instantly elated to hear from her. "Hi, Astrid. Sorry, I didn't realize I had given you my number," I say attempting to explain my confused sounding greeting.

  "You didn't. I'm psychic, remember?" she states, before letting out a hearty chuckle. "Just kidding. I have caller ID and I wrote it down when you made your appointment."

  I laugh too, but louder than I should. The tension in my body releases a little.

  "So, my dear, I have some good news," she says. I perk up. Good news is exactly what I need right now.

  "A friend of mine came into town over the weekend. We've been doing some....research, so to speak...on your situation. He would like to meet you. He specializes in hypnosis."

  I'm silent for a minute while digesting what she's just told me. I've only seen hypnosis performed in magic shows or television talk shows. Just the idea of letting someone else take over my mind without me knowing what's going on makes me feel vulnerable and out of control.

  "Jennifer, are you there?" she inquires.

  "Sorry, yes. I just needed to process that for a minute," I respond honestly. She lets out an empathetic laugh.

  "I know it sounds...well...like a circus trick. But I promise he's one of the best hypnotists I have ever come across. I even let him hypnotize me," she says reassuringly.

  I don't know why I trust her opinion, but I do. What do I have to lose, anyway? I've already lost what I'm certain was my life.

  We set up an appointment for early that evening. I call Joe to tell him I forgot I had a counseling appointment. He's more than understanding and willingly agrees to care for Olivia. He is still euphoric from the weekend and will do almost anything I ask. The thought of what it took to achieve his compliance, makes me feel guilty and nauseous all over again.

  I kill the next few hours vacillating between curiosity and nerves, while conducting some online research about hypnosis. I abruptly stop doing that after watching some short video recordings that only make me more nervous.

  For the rest of the day I distract myself with small tasks, many of which require me to head to the Marketing department. This leads to several brief conversations and joke sessions with Stacy and Steve, which help ease my tension. They don't even know that they're the only ones in this life who really haven't changed. I wish I could stay in this cocoon of familiarity. But even more, I wish I could break free and fly away.

  CHAPTER 26

  It's a little after 5:00 p.m. when I pull into Astrid's driveway. There's an old Volkswagen minibus with Washington state plates parked by her house. I assume it must belong to "Mr. Hypnotist." I guess he would arrive in a car like a normal person and not some black limo or hearse, like I'd previously imagined.

  I head towards the front door as quickly as possible. Since I've been so public lately, I'm legitimately worried about someone seeing me this time and wondering why I'm here. Or worse, telling Joe they saw me at some psychic shop.

  After knocking, the doorknob turns slowly. A tall, skinny, older gentleman with salt and pepper hair opens the door. His nose is unusually large and I try not to stare. His blue-grey eyes meet mine and he extends a long, large hand.

  "Hello, Jennifer. I'm John," he says softly. His greeting is as warm as Astrid's was. I can see why they are friends.

  I feel instantly relaxed when walking into Astrid's house. Once again, it's cool and quiet. I take notice that it's almost as if I've entered another dimension when setting foot in her home. Maybe I have.

  Astrid emerges out of what I presume is the kitchen with two cups of hot tea and hands one to John. "Hi, Jennifer," she says, with a big smile. "I see you've met John."

  I nod and smile back.

  She leans in towards me for a hug after handing John his mug of tea. I take the embrace fully. She must sense that I need it because she lingers. She steps back and looks me in the eyes.

  "Oh, I see," she says sympathetically. I cock my head a little, now confused.

  "A line has been crossed recently. Poor thing. But try not to feel guilty," she quietly comforts me. If I didn't truly believe in her skills before, I definitely do now.

  We all sit down and John explains to me a little about himself and the process of hypnosis. He asks me questions about how I came to be here-in this new life. And what I remember about my other life and what the differences or similarities are between the two.

  I go back to the beginning and talk about Michael and Stella and the life I remember before. However, it feels like I'm forgetting small things, or maybe I'm just rushing through my story.

  "So your husband in the future, where does he live in this current year?" he asks.

  "He lives in..." I hesitate, the name of Michael's home town is on the tip of my tongue-but I can't recall it. "Well...he lives in Sweden...." I stammer out. I'm at a loss for the name of the town. John can tell I'm struggling.

  "Are you OK?" he asks, concerned. My distress is clearly evident. I am drawing a complete blank.

  He leans over and pats my knee. "It's OK. Your mind has been going through a lot. Let's move on." I sit quietly, staring at the floor while concentrating. Why can't I remember where Michael is from? I've been there several times, haven't I?

  We continue the interview process. John takes a lot of notes. Astrid is very curious and sits next to me, very focused on my answers. I take this as a sign of support.

  After we finish, John asks if he can try to hypnotize me for a few minutes. He mentions that not everyone can be hypnotized, or at least not easily. I hesitate, but he assures me nothing bad will happen and that if I'm curious about it, the session will be audio recorded and I can listen later.

  I agree, then lie down on the soft velvet couch and take a deep breath. John's voice softens into a lulling tone that completely relaxes me. I could easily fall asleep right now. He walks me through the process and tells me what he's going to do step-by-step, and what he wants me to do at the same time. Then he begins to count.

  I feel myself get lighter, lighter, lighter...then lights on!

  "And you're back," I hear John say.

  I open my eyes and blink a few times. I guess it didn't work. John is sitting at the end of the couch, smiling at me. Astrid has moved to a chair nearby and looks pleased. I sit up fully.

  Astrid leans over and I hear the rewinding process of an old cassette tape. She presses play. The crackling audio begins. The quality is poor, but I can still hear our voices clearly.

  John: "Jennifer, I want you to look around. Can you tell me what you see, or what you hear?"

  Me: "It's early morning. I can hear birds."

  John: "What are you wearing?"

  Me: "I?I'm wearing a large t-shirt. It's a man's."

  John: "Good. Where are you?"

  Me: "I'm lying in a bed."

  John: "Are you alone?"
r />   Me: "?No?someone is in the bed with me."

  John: "Can you see who it is?"

  Me: "Um?it's...it's my boyfriend. Michael."

  John: "Do you know where you are, or what house you are in?"

  Me: "We?we are at his house, in his room. We are in Helsingborg."

  John: "Good, good."

  Astrid stops the playback of the recording and smiles proudly. "It worked," she says.

  CHAPTER 27

  After the session John is thrilled-not only that he could hypnotize me, but that I remembered a small detail that I'd forgotten in my non-hypnotized state. However, I'm worried and nervous that I have no clear memory of the place that I described on the tape. I'm fearful of what that might mean.

  I noticed this change a week or so ago, but I hadn't thought much about it. There was a moment while watching Olivia play with her dolls that I struggled to remember if Stella had any baby dolls of her own. I also couldn't remember what car Michael drove. I have yet to determine that answer.