Forget Me (Hampton Harbor)

Home > Other > Forget Me (Hampton Harbor) > Page 18
Forget Me (Hampton Harbor) Page 18

by Jess Petosa


  "Jane, I..., should I be calling you Melissa?" he goes off topic.

  "Call me what you want, I don't really refer to myself as either," I tell him.

  "Jane." He chooses the name I was hoping to hear. "Why are you doing this to yourself. To me?"

  I thought about this last night. Calling Will only brings fresh waves of pain. It isn’t fair to either of us.

  I sniff back tears. "I don't know. Even though I am starting to remember life before the accident, my time in Hampton Harbor is still fresh and still very real. I can't just erase Jane and pretend it never happened. I can't forget the boardwalk or the cafe, the docks or you. I definitely can't forget you Will, no matter how hard I try."

  "You need to forget me, Jane," he says softly. "For both of us. You're married, you have a family. We knew this might happen when we started seeing each other, right? Maybe we both spent too much time hoping that we would end up on the other side of this. Either way, you're home now, where you belong."

  "What if I don't belong here," I blurt out. "What if this isn't right for me."

  "I don't have answers for you, Jane. I can't have answers for you, because they would all be selfish."

  I nod even though he can't see me. "I don't have a child, you know, I forgot to tell you last night. We gave him up for adoption."

  Will doesn't respond but I know he is still there because I can hear him breathing.

  "Does Jason know about your recent pregnancy?" he asks.

  "No, no one does. I don't think Marie even told my mom," I say. "Tell me about the marina. Tell me about the cafe."

  He does, and I grasp at the joy and excitement in his voice when he talks about the bay, the boats, and the new special at the cafe. When we hang up, I feel relieved that at least one of us is happy. At least one of us is where we want to be.

  Instead of walking back home, I call Beth.

  She answers on the second ring. “Miss me already? You saw me, like, two hours ago.”

  “Can you come pick me up? I’m at the elementary school,” I say.

  I hear a small sigh. “Just call me a chauffer.”

  She pulls up fifteen minutes later and I climb into her car.

  "Where to?" she asks.

  "Somewhere we can talk," I respond.

  "Uh oh, this can't be good." She pulls out of the parking lot and heads further south, past the high school and into an area I've never been in before. We drive for twenty-five minutes before we reach another town, one much larger than Clinton Hills.

  "News travels fast in Clinton Hills, so if you have some important secret to share, it will be safer here." She winks before she climbs out of the car. We head into a small, locally owned restaurant and are soon seated in the back corner. Brunch wasn’t too long ago, so we decide to order dessert.

  "So get it out, the anticipation is killing me," Beth says after the waitress has taken our orders. Beth taps her fake nails on the table with one hand, and twirls her blonde hair with the other.

  "This might get a little long," I say and she just stares at me, waiting.

  So I tell her the truth. I tell her every detail from Hampton Harbor, right down to dating Will and sleeping with him. I even tell her about my ectopic pregnancy, which I wasn't planning on doing but it feels right to share. When I'm done she leans back in her seat.

  "Damn Missy." She uses my childhood nickname, the one I allow only her and my brother to use. "Is he hot?"

  I groan and put my head in my hands.

  "Sorry, completely inappropriate," she says. "Wow, this is tough."

  I groan again and she shoots me a confused look.

  "I don't want it to be tough." I splay my hands out on the table. "I want someone to give me a definite answer. I want to know what I should do."

  "As cliché as this sounds," Beth says, "I think you should follow your heart, but I also think you need to give it time. You need time to be you."

  "What do you mean?" I ask.

  "Well, you've been Jason's Melissa for a long time, since basically eighth grade if you count that kiss at camp. More recently, you were Will’s Jane. I think you need to work on getting your memories back, like you have been, but without Jason or Will."

  "Won't that be counterproductive?"

  She shakes her head. "I don't think so. I think the more time you spend with Jason, the more you think about the 'what ifs' with Will. If you go running back to Will, you’re going to think about the 'what ifs' about life in Clinton Hills. Right now, you’re messing with them and yourself."

  I take a sip of my water. "My mom will kill me."

  "She’s been threatening that for years and has yet to make good on her words," Beth says with a grin, and then her expression falters. "And Jason will kill me for hinting this. You need to talk to him, really talk to him, and get him to tell you a little bit about the months before you left."

  I furrow my brows. "What aren't you telling me?"

  "Look, just talk to Jason. Tell him that if he doesn't tell you the truth by tonight, I will."

  I just nod my head, suddenly unsure that I want to know what she is hinting at. Our brownie sundaes arrive, and the conversation is lost.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  When Beth drops me off at home, it’s around seven at night. We did some shopping, since I have a new debit card, and stopped so I could grab some groceries. Jason is watching a baseball game on TV, and I move into the kitchen to put the food away.

  “Where did you go today?” He shouts toward the kitchen. It isn’t an accusing question, he is asking me with genuine interest.

  My heart beats loudly in my chest.

  “Out with Beth,” I tell him.

  Something exciting happens in the game on TV, because Jason is hooting and clapping. I put the food items away quickly and wipe my clammy hands on my pants. I step into the living room and sit in the chair across from him.

  “Jason, can we talk?” I ask.

  Even though he seems into the game, his ears are fully attentive. His head snaps toward me and I see the worry in his expression. He uses the remote to turn the TV off and angles his body towards me.

  “Sure, Mel, what’s up?” He is trying to keep his voice even, but I can hear the waiver in it. “Is this about the date tonight? We don’t have to call it that… a date, I mean. We can just go out to talk.”

  I hold up my hand to silence him.

  "Beth told me there are some things you need to tell me," I say.

  He grunts. "I'm going to kill her."

  "She said you probably would, but before you go running out the door with intent to murder, I think you owe me some answers," I say.

  He nods and I see his jaw working. His eyes drop to the floor and he wrings his hands together. He finally stands and walks over to the long table by the stairs, pulling open one of the drawers. He reaches into the back and pulls his hand back out. Before he sits back down, he hands me a small velvet bag.

  I eye him cautiously and then undo the drawstring on the top, dumping the contents into my hands. I almost cry out as I examine the objects in my hand.

  "My rings," I rasp. "But, they fell into the ocean."

  "Obviously not," Jason says. "You just assumed that they did."

  "Letting me make assumptions is still lying." I roll the rings around in my hand.

  "I thought you wanted to remember all of this on your own," he retorts.

  As I move the rings back and forth, and as I listen to Jason's harsh tone, small bits and pieces come back to me. Loud fights in the kitchen, Jason spending nights at his brother's house, Beth coming to stay with me on a particularly bad night, sparse moments of reconciliation. Moments, which most likely led to my latest pregnancy.

  "I was pregnant." I look up at him. "Up until about two weeks ago."

  I'm not sure what Jason was expecting me to say after studying the rings for so long, but by the look on his face, this definitely wasn't it.

  "I didn't know while I was in Maine. I had no idea. Then o
ne afternoon I started bleeding and collapsed. I ended up in the hospital, and had to have surgery."

  Jason is still in a state of shock. "I... I didn't know. If I had known..."

  "You what? Wouldn't have let me leave?"

  "I might have at least come after you," he says to the floor.

  "Why didn't you, anyway?" I ask.

  He rubs his eyes. "Mel, this is all so complicated."

  "Uncomplicate it then. Just tell me the truth, flat out." I lean toward him and pull his hands from his eyes. "I deserve to know."

  "When I start talking, you might already know." He points out that my memories might come back when I hear this, and it’s just what I need.

  "We were—maybe still are— getting a divorce." He looks me in the eyes as he says this, and I lean back in the chair, the weight of his words hitting me full force in the chest.

  "What?" I gasp.

  "We filed the papers a few weeks before you left. On the last day of school our lawyers called to have us sign more paperwork, and afterward you just broke down. You packed a small bag and left, saying you needed to get away for a while. I was living with my brother at that point, but after you left I moved back into the house."

  "Did my mom know?" I ask.

  He nods. "You moved in with her over spring break. After she figured out where you were, and had talked to your grandparents on the phone, she brought all of your things back over. She said that maybe you would forget all about the divorce, and that maybe things could work out. She couldn't have a divorce tainting her family." He ends with a humorless laugh.

  "Like her own," I respond. "Why did you go along with it?"

  He shrugs. "I didn't want to. I was planning to tell you as soon as I got you away from Grace, but then I saw you at the airport. I could tell you recognized me, but you looked at me with such innocence, and with out the knowledge of what was going on. You look at me like you used to, back in high school and college. It was like I had you back again, like I hadn't messed up so many times, and like I wasn't losing you."

  "Why were we—or are we—getting divorced? Did you cheat on me?" I ask, and I realize that now I'm the one making assumptions. For all I know, I cheated on him. I have cheated on him, even if I didn't realize what I was doing at the time.

  "God no," he says quickly. "I would never cheat on you, and you wouldn't cheat on me." He adds the last part for my sake. "We... you got trapped, Mel."

  "What do you mean?" I take a quick glance around the room, eyeing each picture frame. Each happy memory feels like a lie.

  "You never wanted to stay here. IU was the furthest your mom would let you go to school if she was still going to pay for it. You always swore that as soon as you graduated you were gone. You were going to move to the coast and start a new life, out from under your mom's reign."

  "But that all changed..."

  "When you got pregnant," he finishes for me. "Your emotions were all over the place during your pregnancy. Your mom was forcing a wedding on us, and you threw yourself into the planning. I think that back then, I was your safety net. You felt like you were losing your hopes and dreams, and I was the one comfortable thing you could fall back into."

  "We still could have gone away, couldn't we have?" I ask.

  "You changed after giving Ethan up. You let your mom boss you around and applied for a job here in town right after graduation. I was happy to stay, with my family and my friends here, and therefore didn't suggest that move away. I held you back, and I regret it. So much."

  His eyes appear glassy now, and I know he is on the verge of tears. His face blurs and I’m on the same edge with him.

  "We loved each other," I tell him. "I remember."

  "We did." He brushes a tear from under his eyes. "We were crazy about each other, but then we started to grow up, and in turn grew apart. You eventually came back to yourself; to the Melissa I knew and loved before Ethan. You started to push back against your mom, and you started to resent me. This past year, we've fought more days than we've been happy I think."

  I don't bother to brush away the tears, and instead let them roll onto my shirt and soak the collar. I can picture the past year now. It’s all hitting me at once, and just like that I realize that I have almost the full extent of my memories back. Some things are still fuzzy but who doesn't experience that in a normal day? It’s a struggle to remember twenty-five very full years.

  I gasp and clutch my chest, and Jason moves off the chair and falls to his knees in front of me. He takes my hands in his.

  "I'm so sorry, Mel. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed. We went to counseling for months. We tried, we really did."

  We’re both crying now and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close. I've been searching for closure since coming back from Hampton Harbor, but I didn't expect to find it this way.

  After a few minutes, Jason pulls back and wipes his cheeks. It is hard to see him cry, and I know it’s only happened a handful of times since we’ve known each other.

  "I originally thought we could try to work things out again. You were remembering all of the good pieces of our relationship, and it was making me remember them as well. I didn't feel as bitter anymore, or as angry or sad. Then I started to realize that you would never truly be mine again. Even when you’re remembering, your heart is elsewhere. Even your broken mind knows that you don’t want to be here."

  I nod. "I've been trying to find my place here, I have. I just... I can't do it."

  "Then don't," Jason tells me. "The divorce papers are still being processed. We signed the paperwork in June, and it should be finalized mid-September. I've come to peace with it, especially now. I was bitter before, but now that I've had the last week with you, I have closure."

  "Me too," I say.

  "What are you going to do now?" He drops my hands and leans back on his heels.

  "I'm going to tell my family over dinner on Saturday, and then I'm going to Chicago."

  "Chicago?" he asks.

  "First I’m going to see our son, and then I’m going to get a fresh start."

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Saturday evening comes much quicker than I would have liked. I spent the past few days packing up all of my things. Some we put in a storage unit until I have a place of my own. It makes sense that Jason should keep the house; I have no intention of staying in Clinton Hills. I never have. I got a temporary license from the DMV, and I’m finally able to get my car from the garage and drive myself around. I must have taken a plane and taxis to get myself to Maine, or maybe a Greyhound bus. My memories of that are still fuzzy.

  Jason and I pull into my mom and Ted's in separate cars, but we walk up to the front door hand in hand. I finally remember the meetings with the lawyers before my accident, before I left Clinton Hills. We had been hateful and mean to each other, arguing over pointless things. Now we are a united front. We split our money evenly and had the lawyers draw up a revised divorce settlement. I went to the school and told my principal that I won't be back next year. Jason and Beth helped me pack up my classroom and put the items into storage, in case I ever to decide to start teaching again. I can finally remember just how much I love it.

  "Jason and Melissa are here," my mom trills when she opens the door.

  I drop his hand as we walk past her and into the living room, where the rest of my family is waiting. Robbie is there with his girlfriend, Sarah, and I give them both a hug. My memories have all melded together now, except for the few weeks before the accident, so I greet them like I know them. Because I do.

  Ted's two daughters from his previous marriage are there, both of them are still college age and seem too caught up in their phones to notice me, but I give them short hugs even so.

  "Dinner is ready, so every one into the dining room," my mom says loudly.

  I pass by pictures of my brother and I as children, and it’s the one true sign of love I've ever really seen from my mother. Despite her harsh words and controlling nature, she has alway
s had a softness for our childhood. She has our school pictures all over the house, and keepsakes from when we were babies. Newspaper clippings from the day we were born, our christening gowns, baby shoes, and so on. I know all of this is kept in boxes in the guest room, and that sometimes she goes through these items when she thinks no one is around.

  I pause at a glass case filled with various snow globes. Many were purchased from the different places my mom has traveled, and several were gifts from friends. It hits me now. I was looking at that snow globe in Hampton Harbor because of my mom. It would have been a sure way to let her know that I still loved her, and that I was thinking about her. Now I can work on telling her that.

  We move into the dining room and sit around the dining room table. It’s set with a feast of pot roast, potatoes, green beans, and fresh baked bread.

  I waste no time, standing up after everyone has been seated, and I clear my throat. I almost feel as though I should clink a glass to get their attention, but this isn't a toast.

  "I remember almost everything now," I say. My mom shoots a worried glance at Ted, and Robbie coughs uncomfortably. "Even my divorce."

  Jason stands up beside me now.

  "We're going to move forward with it," Jason says, setting a hand on my shoulder. "Mel finished moving her things out of the house yesterday."

  My mom seems flustered. "Where will you go? You can stay here." Her voice is shrill.

  "You know I can't do that," I tell her. "I can't stay here. I'm not sure where I'm going yet, but I'm going to start with Chicago."

  "You can stay with me," Robbie says quickly. "I have the extra bedroom now that my roommate is gone. My new roommate doesn't move in until October first."

  That gives me over two months.

  "That would be great," I say with a genuine smile.

  "I wish you wouldn't do this," my mom says.

  "I need to," I say, but my words are mainly directed at my mom. "And I think you know that I need to do this. I was never meant to stay here. I need to be free."

 

‹ Prev