by Jess Petosa
"Because I need you to understand exactly why I need to do this," Marie looks at me quickly. "I never had these opportunities with Grace. She wanted nothing to do with me in her teenage years, and hasn't given me a chance to repair whatever she thinks is broken in our relationship."
My stomach twists around, and I feel sick.
"I can't be a replacement," I say.
Marie looks horrified. "No! Oh dear, that is not what I’m saying, not at all, Jane. I don't want to replace my daughter. When Charles brought you home, something happened to me. I knew we needed to help you, in whatever way we can."
I just nod, trying to find words to speak but they evade me.
Marie turns up the radio for the remainder of the drive, and I stare out the window. I try to find anything to distract myself from her story. I listen to the songs on the radio in depth, trying to find recognition. The music sounds familiar at times, but at other times I can't place words or the beat. Maybe I didn't listen to music much before the accident.
We arrive in Bangor thirty-minutes later.
Marie pulls into a shopping mall and finds a parking spot outside of a department store. She turns off the car and angles her body toward me.
"Charles told me not to tell you all of this so soon," she says. "I think he may have been right. I'm afraid I've gone and messed up our relationship."
I take a deep breath and shake my head. "Not at all, it was just a lot to take in at once."
I want to tell her how the news is hard to take because of my memory loss. I don't have any memories of my own, so her memory of Grace fills every inch of my mind and becomes a painful reminder of her loss. We leave the car and walk into the department store, which appears to be a fair size. We find a section with plain colored tees and I stock up for working at the cafe. I find some cheaper pairs of shorts that I won't mind getting dirty when at work. Marie even convinces me to try on some nicer tops.
"Just in case," she tells me.
It takes us almost an hour to make it out of the department store and into the mall, and it is another hour and a half before we call it quits. Marie drags me into Gap, Ann Taylor, and another department store, and spends too much money on too many clothes. I have three bags on each arm, and I am starting to feel the weight in my shoulders.
"Let's grab some lunch," Marie says, leading me toward the food court.
We end up in a chain restaurant that is attached the mall, and I find it strange to be served a meal today instead of being the server. I pick up the menu and the previous night comes back to me.
"Oh my gosh, I completely forgot about Will," I say out loud.
Marie peers at me over her own menu. "Will?"
"I met him outside the cafe last night," I answer. "I told him to sit in my section today for lunch, and now I'm not there."
"Oh, well, he comes in often so I'm sure you’ll get another chance to serve him." Marie looks back down at her menu, a small smile on her face.
I just nod, but feel a tinge of disappointment at missing an opportunity to see him. We order our food and talk about our purchases while we wait. Marie bought quite a few items for herself, and I thank her profusely for spending the money on me. I decide not to argue about the amount after the whole talk about her daughter. I can think of a few ways to pay her and Charles back, but I'm going to wait until I have a chance to talk with them both.
CHAPTER FIVE
"I sat in your section yesterday," Will says from behind me.
I'm standing at the counter, tying my apron around my waist and searching for a pen. My shift is just starting, and already the tables in our section are filling up. This will be my last day training with Amy, and then I am on my own.
"I know," I say apologetically. "Marie swept me out the door for a shopping trip. I'm not so sure I had a choice."
Will laughs, and the sound wakes the butterflies in my stomach. "Do you think I should give it another try today?"
I shrug. "That's up to you, are you feeling boring or spontaneous?"
Will smiles. "Challenge accepted."
He walks away from the counter and slips into a booth in Amy's section. I laugh and shake my head, turning to grab an order pad from under the counter. Amy returns from the kitchen and sidles up next to me.
"What is he doing over there?" She asks as she ties her apron tighter. "Will never sits in my section."
"I challenged him to try something new," I say over my shoulder.
"Well, he orders the same thing every day so we might as well just put it in to the cook." She starts writing on her pad and I stop her.
"Maybe he'll order something different today," I say.
"I'll start on my other tables. You get spontaneous boy." She steps around the counter and heads to greet guests.
I walk over to Will's table, very aware that he is watching my every step.
"Hi, I'm Jane and I'll be taking care of you today. Can I start you off with something to drink?" I hold my pad in the air, my pen ready.
Will's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Water is fine. And I'm ready to order."
"Just so you know, I'm going to be checking this order with Heather," I say in almost a whisper. "If it’s the same thing you order every time you come in, I'm deducting a point from your spontaneity score."
Will smothers a laugh and picks up his menu. "In that case, I'll have a bowl of chili and half of a grilled cheese sandwich."
I nod my head and write it down. "I'll be right back with your water."
I head back behind the counter and submit his order. Heather is filling drinks behind me so I turn and whisper, "What is Will's usual order?"
She peeks over at me. "A cup of chili and a whole grilled cheese sandwich."
"Of course," I say.
I pour him a glass of water and head back to his table, setting it down in front of him.
"Well played," I say with one eyebrow raised.
He leans back in his seat, his hands clasped together behind his neck. I try not to notice that his muscles are more defined this way, but I fail.
"You just said that I needed to change my order, so I did." He smiles and the butterflies take flight again.
"I'm still deducting half a point," I say before turning and walking away. I greet and take orders for a few other tables that have been seated. Amy and I are splitting the tables today, each taking an equal amount.
I've just gotten two of my tables’ orders in when Will's grilled cheese is done. I dish his chili into a bowl, shove some crackers onto the saucer, and pile the entire order onto a tray.
"He likes lots of crackers," Heather says, grabbing another handful and dumping them on the tray.
I know she is trying to be helpful, but I feel a touch of jealousy at the fact that she knows him so well, and I hardly know him at all.
I deliver his meal and tuck the tray under my arm. "Enjoy your meal!"
I hurry away before he can say anything. Each time I look into his eyes, I get more and more unsettled. Amy refills his water for me while I carry food to a large table. I run into the kitchen to get more sour cream and when I come back out, Will is gone. I wander over to his table and find a twenty dollar bill and a business card. I check my order pad. His meal would have cost him eight dollars. That is a one hundred percent tip and then some. I shove the twenty into my pocket and look at the business card.
Davey & Sons Boating reads the card. Will's name is below the company information.
William P. Davey, and then his phone number is printed after.
I cash out his bill and slip the business card into my pocket, knowing I don't have it in me to throw it away. The lunch shift moves quickly, and it is busy today. Amy and I split the tips and I manage to pull in sixty dollars, twelve of those belonging to Will.
I work four shifts over the next week, and Will doesn’t come in for any of them. I’m losing my chance to give him his change, and my chance to start a conversation with him.
On Thursday, Shelley finds me durin
g my afternoon break.
"We're overstaffed for tonight," she huffs. I have yet to see her in a pleasant mood. "You and Amy can go home."
That is all she says before turning on her heels and stomping back to her office.
"Sweet!" Amy says. "Eric mentioned wanting to see a movie with me, and I think he is off tonight, too."
I've only known Amy for a few days but I've quickly learned almost everything about her. Besides the physical features—tall, redheaded, and curvy—she is spunky, outgoing, and speaks her mind. Eric is one of the boat washers down at the docks, and she met him last summer when he came in to have lunch with Will. They aren't officially dating but they've been to dinner a few times, and have seen some movies together. From what I can gather, Amy has a lot of dates.
She claps her hands and throws her apron behind the counter, disappearing out the back door with her cell phone to her ear. It's as I turn in my own apron that I realize my ride has just left. I could call Charles or Marie to come get me, but that would mean venturing into the office... with Shelley. Instead I travel out the front door and turn right, headed in the direction of the boats. It is sunny and warm today. There is barely a breeze, and the water in the bay laps lazily against the dock.
The walk down the boardwalk doesn't take more than five minutes. As I draw closer to the marina, I realize just how large the area is. There are several docks that lead out into the water, and more docks off of those. When Will comes in to the cafe, he is generally dressed nice so I assume that he is probably in the main office. A large blue building sits back from the bay, Davey & Sons Boating is written across the top in large, white lettering. The ‘T’ is an anchor, and the ‘&’ sign is a buoy.
More small details that my mind is telling me I know.
There is a small ramp on one side, and a small sign above the door reads MAIN OFFICE: BOATING SHOP IN FRONT. I climb up the ramp and open the door. A bell rings, signaling my arrival, and I step into the main lobby. There is a desk directly in front of me, and a cheery old woman sits there with a big smile on her face.
"Welcome to Davey & Sons Boating, how may I help you?" she asks.
I glance around the room quickly. There are two other desks back further, and several closed doors.
"I'm looking for Will," I say. "He's expecting me."
I'm going to interpret him leaving his business card as expecting me, because otherwise I am liable to look like a stalker.
The woman's grin grows and she looks at the computer, clicking the mouse several times. "William is out on Dock A, helping with the Maiden Molly."
I just nod, as though I know exactly what she is talking about, and back out of the office. As I head back down to the marina, I notice that the large overhead lights positioned along the edge are labeled with letters. A is to my left, in the first row of boats, and out of curiosity I head toward it. The docks are further apart here, and the boats larger. I’m amazed by the size of them as I walk down Dock A.
The Whiskey Tango.
The Great Gatsby.
The Eleanor.
The VanOver Vessel.
I’m moving slowly now, reading each name and taking in the details of each boat.
"Jane?" Someone yells my name and I turn around, temporarily blinded by the sun. It reflects off of the white boats, and I suddenly wish I had brought a pair of sunglasses to work today.
I cover my eyes and squint in the direction my name came from. My eyes travel up the side of a boat, the Maiden Molly, and I spot Will leaning over the edge.
My tongue shrivels into nothing and my stomach is knotted tighter than the ropes holding these boats into place. Will is shirtless, his muscles taut from the way his hands grip the side rail.
"Hey," is all I manage to call out when my tongue grows back to its original size.
He holds up one finger and disappears. A few minutes later he steps onto the main dock, coming from a side dock around the boat. He is wearing old, worn down jeans and oil splattered tennis shoes. He wipes the sweat from his brow and it is taking all of my willpower to not stare at his bare chest.
"Did you need something?" he asks.
I almost forget that I came to his place of work, and that I am standing here staring at him expectantly.
I fumble for excuses. "I came to give you your change."
"You came all the way to the dock in the middle of your shift, and searched me out among hundreds of boats, all to give me change from a bill I paid a week ago?" He puts his hands on toned hips. His pelvic bones create shadowed lines that disappear into his jeans.
Focus Jane.
"No," I respond. "You haven’t been in all week and I wanted to do it before I completely forgot. My shift ended early today, and my ride ditched me, so I thought it would be a good time to walk down here. I asked the receptionist in your office where you would be, and I came to look at the boats, too.”
Will smiles and I realize I’m rambling.
"Then you got my business card, too?" he asks.
"Yes." I pull it out of my pocket. "But I'm afraid I don't own a boat to bring you any business."
I wave the card around before putting it back in my pocket. I pull his change from my other pocket and hold it out to him.
He shakes his head and shoves his hands into his pocket. "Keep it, I don't have anywhere to put it."
"I see pockets." I point to his pants.
"I might spill oil on it," he says.
I sigh and shove the money into my back pocket.
"You can make it up to me though," Will says.
"Oh really?" I arch an eyebrow at him.
"You can buy me ice cream after I get off work tonight." He talks as though I've already said yes.
"What time should I meet you here?"
"Around five is fine."
"Ice cream for dinner?" I ask.
"No." He turns back to the boat and starts walking, calling out over his shoulder, "You can buy me dessert after I buy you dinner."
I walk back to the boardwalk with my mouth hanging open.
Will Davey just tricked me into a date. I'm not sure if I should feel annoyed, excited, or just indifferent. If I am completely honest with myself, I know that dating isn't really something I should even consider right now. I know that it requires honesty and openness, and those are two things I can’t give to anyone even if I want to. I can think of only one person to ask in a situation like this. I hurry back to the cafe and slip into the office, picking up the phone to call Marie. She arrives fifteen minutes later to pick me up.
"Sorry you had to come all the way out here," I tell her.
"It’s no problem," she says with a smile. "I don't mind."
"Will Davey is taking me to dinner tonight." I blurt out the words I've thought over and over again for the past thirty minutes.
"He asked you on a date?" Marie doesn’t sound as surprised as I thought she might.
"I don't know if he really asked," I say. "Actually, I don't really know what happened but I think I'm meeting him at his work around five, and we are going to dinner."
"Well then it is a good thing we went shopping last week, isn't it," Marie says.
I take a deep breath and hope to catch some courage as I do. "Marie, there is something I need to tell you."
CHAPTER SIX
Marie takes the news rather well. She doesn't show anger. She doesn't even cry or look afraid. She just watches me carefully as I tell her my secret. Every detail spills out of my mouth with emotion.
"I know I should have told you as soon as I knew what was going on," I tell her. "I was just so confused. By the time the morning came and I figured out I was missing my memories, something inside told me that I needed to put on an act. I can't explain it, but I feel as though I'm not supposed to discover who I am just yet."
"Charles and I know, dear," Marie says when I am finished speaking. “We know that you have amnesia.”
"What?" My voice is barely a whisper.
"We had a suspicion
when you woke up, right after the accident. You were saying funny things, and acting strange. Then when you woke up in the middle of the night, and had a panic attack, it became obvious. Especially when you stared at my book collection on the dresser and told us your name was Jane." Marie places her hand on mine and I look at the ground.
We are seated out on the back patio, our chairs pulled right up to the stone barrier that separates the yard from the sea. I decide that I think clearer here.
