Memory's Edge: Part One

by Gladden, DelSheree

  Her honesty was amusing. “I was still pretty beat up when I got out of the hospital. I had to stay around the house, which got a little boring, so I decided to learn how to cook,” John said. “I don’t know if I knew how to cook before or not, but I seem to be pretty good at it now.”

  Clara nodded as she took a bite of potatoes. His plate cleared a few minutes later, John pushed it away and turned around to lean against the counter. It wouldn’t be long before empty plates made their way back. At least the others were in charge of dishwashing.

  “How many times have you done this?” John asked Clara.

  “Counting Mel’s wedding, eight.” She set her plate down and rested her hands on the counter, unusually close to John’s. “I’ve done two funerals, three weddings, a baby shower, and two quinceaneras. We’re a pretty festive family, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I never would have guessed,” John said with a chuckle. Leaning more heavily against the counter, he shifted his weight to his good leg and closed his eyes. The ache in his bones was really starting to bother him. Clara shifted next to John, but he didn’t look over at her. He assumed she was getting down until he felt her hands on his shoulders.

  Pulling away quickly, John turned and looked at her. There were a lot of things John couldn’t remember, but he was pretty sure having a sixteen-year-old girl rub his shoulders with no one else around was not socially acceptable. Clara, however, just smiled sweetly in mock innocence.

  “What are you doing?” John asked.

  “You look exhausted. I was just trying to help,” she said. She slid off the counter and stepped to the side of him. John watched her move, hoping she was leaving. Taking another step, she reached up and set her hand on his shoulder again. John turned, grabbing her hand and removing it.

  “Clara.” He wasn't sure how to respond. There was no way he was letting her rub his back, but he didn’t want to offend her and cause a scene at Melanie and Eric’s wedding. It was possible she was just trying to be nice—John didn’t have a whole lot of experience with women—but the way she smiled so calmly and moved so fluidly made him think otherwise.

  John was astounded. She knew he was dating, and living with Gretchen. She knew his whole story. Yet she was still trying to seduce him with his girlfriend in the next room and her entire family in the building as well. She certainly had guts. John had to at least give her that.

  “Why don’t you just relax? It’s been a long day,” Clara said.

  “Did you happen to see Gretchen when you were in the reception hall?” John asked. He was trying to remind Clara of all the people in the next room, but she seemed to take it another way.

  “Yes, she was busy eating and talking with her friends, last I saw her. She’ll probably stay at the table for a good while yet.” Clara stepped in closer, gently trying to tug her hand out of John’s grip.

  “That’s not why I asked,” John said dryly. “You’re a nice girl, but this is really inappropriate. I have a girlfriend. And you’re sixteen. You shouldn’t be doing this. I’m way too old for you.”

  “Oh really? And just how old are you?” she asked coyly.

  “I’m, well…I don’t know how old I am, but I know I’m not sixteen. That’s hardly the point, and you know it,” he said. “I am dating Gretchen.”

  “Oh, come on, John. She saved you and let you live at her house. Don’t you think you should play the field a little more before you settle for the first girl you meet?” Clara touched her hand to John’s chest, leaning closer. He tried to step back but he was already against the counter. “You’re a handsome guy. You’re sweet and funny. You don’t have to settle.”

  Finally letting go of Clara’s hands, John grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back. “I didn’t settle for Gretchen. I love her.” The admission surprised Clara. It surprised John a little, too. He hadn’t even told Gretchen he loved her yet. Why did he just admit it to this manipulative girl?

  Clara shook off her surprise. “I think there’s a name for that, it’s called Stockholm syndrome.”

  “That’s only for people held captive,” John said. Wait, how did I know that? John wondered. He still knew what things were and how to use them from his functional memory, but he didn’t remember anything specific about academic topics.

  “Still,” Clara said, interrupting his thoughts, “I think you’re missing out.”

  She moved around the counter, trailing her hand on the surface and swaying her hips seductively. John turned away from her temptation. She was an attractive young woman.

  “It’s not going to happen, Clara. I need to start cleaning up anyway. I promised Gretchen I would dance with her tonight,” he said.

  John turned toward the sink, intent on ignoring Clara, only to find she had circled the counter and was standing next to him again. Sighing, he tried to think of a polite way to get her to leave him alone.

  “Do you really love her?” Clara asked.

  “Yes. Now can we get back to work, please?” he begged. Or just leave and let him be?

  “Do you want to marry her?” Clara asked.

  Her blunt question caught John off guard. Did he want to give up on ever finding who he used to be and give himself over to being John, Gretchen’s husband? Did he want to spend the rest of his life with her? The question had surprised him, but the answer didn’t.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Huffing in disappointment, Clara’s sultry movements suddenly stopped and she went back to being the helpful kid she had been most of the evening. “All right, fine,” she said, “let’s get this mess cleaned up.”

  She turned away and starting stacking the pots and pans that needed to be washed next to the sink. John stared at her. It was like a light switch turning on and off. One minute she was a cute kid being extra helpful, the next, a temptress, and then back to an innocent girl. John’s tired mind was still trying to catch up.

  “Wait, that’s it?” John asked. “You’re backing off, just like that?”

  Clara grinned. “You sound disappointed.”

  Shaking his head, he walked over to her. “No, not disappointed, confused.”

  “I have no problem stealing another girl’s boyfriend, but I draw the line at breaking up marriages,” she said.

  “How noble of you,” John said. She was something else.

  “A girl’s got to have some principles.” She turned on the water and stoppered the sink.

  “Gretchen and I aren’t married yet, though,” he said.

  Turning around with a grin, a bit of her flirty nature popping back up, Clara looked at John. “You are disappointed.”

  Flushing slightly, John looked away. Her abrupt change had thrown him a little, but he wasn’t disappointed.

  Clara laughed at his discomfort, and said, “I thought I’d give you a break and let you off easy. You’re obviously pretty serious about Gretchen. I didn’t think you would be, so I tried, but I won’t try to steal you away from her.”

  Was this girl seriously only sixteen years old? “Uh, thanks,” John said. “I guess.”

  Dropping a few of the dishes into the sink, Clara was careful not to let the water splash on her clothes. She was quiet for a few seconds before turning back around. “You should probably tell Gretchen how you feel, though, before someone tries to steal her from you.”

  Carl. Every time John thought of that man he found himself wanting to punch something, preferably Carl’s face. He would try to take Gretchen if John gave him the chance.

  “Go ahead, John. The band should have started playing by now,” Clara said, “and Gretchen looks beautiful tonight. Go dance with her.”

  Maybe Clara was right. At the risk of scaring her away, he needed to tell Gretchen how he felt. Somehow he doubted Carl would be as gracious as Clara, and back off just because he knew John loved Gretchen. If he wanted to keep her in his life, John he to make sure she knew how much he wanted her.

  Chapter Thirty

  Waltz

  Standing in th
e doorway of the reception hall, John realized what Clara said about Gretchen had been an understatement. Gretchen didn’t look beautiful, she was gorgeous. The pale blue satin of her bride’s maid dress clung to her soft curves in just the right places and flowed loose exactly where it should have, accentuating her graceful walk. Faux diamonds ran down one strap, curved along the neck line, and disappeared over her other shoulder as they followed the strap to the back of the dress. Every time she shifted, the light bounced off the jewels, drawing John to her.

  He had crossed half the room in a trance before Gretchen saw him and smiled. The pleasure in her eyes warmed John’s body. Waving him over to her drew the attention of the circle of friends she had around her. John recognized two of them from the party, but the rest were a mystery. They watched John eagerly as he approached.

  Stepping up to Gretchen in his simple slacks and dress shirt, John felt rather underdressed. She didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she looped her arm through his and introduced him to everyone. John couldn’t remember their names two seconds after Gretchen said them, but they were all quick to compliment him on the food. John accepted their compliments politely, but it was hard to pay attention to what they were saying. He was too focused on Gretchen and what Clara had said.

  Slowly the conversation returned to whatever it had been before he’d walked up, with the exception that Gretchen didn’t join back in. She leaned against John as she held onto him, looking peaceful and happy.

  “The ceremony was beautiful,” she said. “I wish you could have been in there.”

  “Me too,” John said. He pulled her to him. “Then I could have stared at you the whole time, instead of the hundreds of mini quiches I was baking. You look amazing.”

  Blushing at the attention he was giving her in front of her friends, Gretchen ducked her head. John kissed the top of her head and hugged her even tighter. He couldn’t help wondering if she thought at all during the ceremony about whether they would ever get married. Did she wonder what her dress would look like, or what kind of flowers they would choose, or where they would go on their honeymoon?

  Thinking about the same things had made it twice as hard for John to get through the catering job, but made it better at the same time. Thinking about Gretchen always helped him calm down when his fears about the future got to him. Being surrounded by wedding preparations all day kept John slightly distracted.

  “So how about that dance?” John asked. “I promise not to freak out this time.”

  Gretchen laughed, but there was a hint of worry, too. Still, she took his hand and led him over to the dance floor. They maneuvered through the crowd of single reception-goers waiting to be asked to dance, and John paused when he saw the dancers. Dancing at the restaurant had been an informal thing, people shuffling back and forth to the music. He froze at the sight of couples fluidly moving through a waltz. Suddenly, John realized why there were so many people watching instead of dancing. They weren’t waiting for a partner, they were too intimidated.

  Finally realizing John wasn’t moving anymore, Gretchen looked back at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I don’t think I can do that,” he said, pointing to the dancers.

  “Oh, don’t worry. We don’t have to waltz,” she said. “If I would have remembered how into dancing Melanie’s family was before, I would have taught you. It’s really not that hard.”

  “Melanie has a very interesting family,” John said, still staring at the dancers.

  Gretchen laughed and pulled him into the swirling people. They moved around them as Gretchen position one of John’s hands on her back and the other in her hand. Then for no apparent reason, all his nervousness disappeared. Feeling very comfortable poised to dance his princess around the ballroom, John looked down at Gretchen.

  Except, he didn’t see Gretchen.

  For a brief second when he blinked, another face flitted before his eyes. Waves of dark hair surrounded an angelic, heart-shaped face. She stood just as Gretchen did, ready to dance.

  “Are you ready to give this a try?” Gretchen asked, banishing the image.

  John took a deep breath to try to steady himself. Gretchen seemed to take it as nervousness and squeezed his hand reassuringly. John didn’t know what had just happened, but he focused all his energy on forgetting it. The image stayed, of course, but he pushed it far enough to the back of his mind that he could look back at Gretchen and smile.

  “I’m ready,” he said.

  Taking the lead, John stepped to the side…and then he kept going. In a perfect waltz. His feet carried him without thought. He seemed to know what to do without even thinking about it. Smiling with delight, Gretchen looked up at him. John returned her smile, but inwardly he cringed.

  “I guess you do know how to do this,” she said with a laugh. “I suppose Dr. Sanchez was right about the whole functional memory thing. You’re a wonderful dancer.”

  Her next question probably would have been whether he remembered ever dancing before if she hadn’t been enjoying herself so much. Gretchen tried harder to get John to remember things than he did. Rarely did she miss the chance to ask him if he remembered doing, tasting, or seeing something before. John always answered her questions, but he secretly wished she would stop asking him. Gretchen must have been incredibly distracted not to have seen the opportunity. Diverging from the regular steps, John twirled Gretchen, hoping to keep her mind occupied. He did not want to answer any questions about dancing.

  Functional memory or not, John knew the face he had seen was the same one he saw the first night they danced together. Maybe the steps were easily being accessed from the same hidden portion of his brain that allowed him to remember how to walk and speak, but the face of the woman he had once danced with didn’t want to stay hidden anymore.

  Part of John wanted to know who she was, why she didn’t look for him, where she was now, but a larger part of him never wanted to see her face again. The fact that she obviously hadn’t been bothered enough by his disappearance to find him tugged at the ball of anger and resentment John kept deep in his core. He had already decided to give up on who he used to be. Whatever life he’d had before meeting Gretchen, John had a new one with her. He wanted to keep it that way.

  Flaring Gretchen out, John watched her dress swirl around her ankles before pulling her back in as the song ended. The music slowed, giving John a chance to keep Gretchen pulled tightly against him. Immediately resting her head against his chest, she sighed and swayed back and forth with him.

  Clara’s words were still pounding in John’s mind. Seeing the face had only served to intensify the feeling that he needed to tell Gretchen how he truly felt about her. He was desperate to tell her, but there was a wave of fear buffeting his desire to speak. Actually, two waves of fear. One that told him would scare her away from him. One that said he would lose her if he didn’t.

  Halfway through the song, John couldn’t stand it anymore. He decided to take the advice of a sixteen-year-old girl who had just tried to seduce him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Reaction

  Standing at the front of the chapel earlier that day, it had been easy for Gretchen to pretend she was in Melanie’s place. She did it at every wedding, but this one was different. Even when she’d been dating Steve and was convinced he intended to propose, Gretchen wondered if he was the right guy. She wanted him to be right for her, but deep down she knew the way he treated her made him all wrong.

  Knowing John was nearby, waiting to dance with her had Gretchen wishing she was the one walking down the aisle. Having him hold her in his arms was the next best thing. Gretchen listened to the smooth rhythm of the music as she let her dreams play in her mind. She would have been happy to stay in that moment forever, but John brought his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to look at him.

  “Gretchen,” he said, “I love you.”

  He said it with such peace and hope. Gretchen, on the other hand, was shocked into silence.
She wasn’t sure whether or not she was still dancing. Feeling had completely deserted her body. It felt as if the world had suddenly stopped, giving her a chance to think about her reaction.

  Did she love John? She had spent so much time convincing herself—not to mention Carl—she didn’t, how she was only trying to help him, not seduce him, that finally admitting she did seemed like a betrayal of some kind. But to who? Deep down, Gretchen wanted to tell John she loved him. He had been pushing her lately, but that wasn't a bad thing. She needed to be pushed. She’d been stuck behind her fear for too long.

  The night Steve told Gretchen he loved her had seemed so magical in the moment. She didn’t notice at the time how many glasses of wine he’d had with dinner, nor did she see the alcohol induced glaze in his eyes. Gretchen heard the words she wanted to hear from him so badly. It wasn’t until the next day when she told him again how much she loved him and he couldn’t even remember the conversation, and didn’t want to, that she realized her mistake.

  Eventually, Steve told Gretchen he loved her again, but it had been hard to trust he meant it then. Staring at an anxious John, there were no signs of deceit, and no drunkenness in his eyes. There was fear which Gretchen understood, but there was honesty most of all. Letting herself love John in the face of the all too real possibility of losing him wasn’t easy. For some reason, that seemed to make it better, though, more real.

  “Gretchen? Please say something. You’re killing me,” John pleaded.

  How long had she been staring at him? The fear in his expression grew.

  “John, I …” He didn’t give her the chance to finish.

  “I know you weren’t expecting that, but…I needed to tell you.” He took a deep breath, but kept going. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I just want to make sure you know how I feel about you. You don’t even have to say anything if you don’t want to.” He paused. “Actually, maybe it’s better if you don’t say anything yet. Take some time to think about it.”