by Jamie Knight
I breathe a sigh of relief, and I can see that Cassie does, too. I’m so glad that Amanda has apparently decided to take this in stride, just like Charles has, too. Her reassuring nature brightens up the room a bit more.
Cassie takes a deep breath and sips her cosmopolitan. I take a drink of my bourbon. I feel it burn my nostrils a bit from the alcohol. It’s a good feeling, though.
“We’re here for you, Cassie,” Charles says. “And we’re here for Alice, too. You two mean the world to us.”
Amanda looks at me.
“And we’re here for you too, Devon.”
“I’m so grateful for everything you guys done for me,” I tell her.
“Me too,” Cassie chimes in.
She looks at me and beams. I smile back, glad that things are working out.
The doorbell rings and the babysitter arrives. Cassie wakes Alice up from her nap and we all get ready to go out. Charles volunteers to drive, which is best because his midsize SUV can fit all of us comfortably. We all get in, and Charles turns around to make sure we’re buckled in, and then we head out.
Cassie has an app on her phone that connects to the cameras in the house, so she can check on Alice. She makes sure it’s tethered before we leave the driveway.
It is nice that she is so concerned. I guess I would be too, if it was my child.
Then I think back to the day I watched Alice and took her to the park. Cassie seemed much more frazzled back then.
We pull up to the valet. Charles gets a ticket from the young man in the black vest and white-collared shirt and we get out.
I am not even sure I like sushi, so I ask for some advice before ordering. I also look at my phone and search for descriptions of the various rolls and sashimi.
Amanda says to try a spicy tuna roll first, and maybe some yellowtail. I look up “unagi”, which is basically eel with sauce, and that looks good, too.
The waitress brings a bottle of sake and pours us each a small cup. She also leaves a bottle of sparkling water at Cassie’s request. I taste the sake and suddenly remember how much I like it.
Another breakthrough!
The food starts to come out. I am advised by Amanda to use ginger first to cleanse the palette and then dip the sushi in soy sauce. If I want, I can add some wasabi to give it a little more kick.
I try my spicy tuna and add a little too much wasabi. Much like earlier with the bourbon, I feel my nostrils burn. But this feeling is much more intense. I take a swig of sake to get back in balance.
After a bite of ginger, I give a piece of yellowtail a try. This is presented as sashimi, which is basically a piece of raw fish without rice. I like the taste of it very much and ask for more.
The unagi has a stronger taste and I’m glad I have it with rice. It helps temper the flavor, allowing you to savor it for a little while longer. After a little while I make enough discovery about myself: I am a huge fan of sushi!
It’s great that Amanda and Charles are okay with Cassie still staying with them now that they know the whole story. They don’t seem to be in any hurry to get her to leave. Or me neither, for that matter.
I guess Cassie was overly worried and should have just been honest with Amanda all along. But at least the truth came out at some point.
It’s always better when things are out and in plain sight, identifiable and able to get sorted. The evening ends up being a smashing success.
Chapter Seventeen
Devon
The next day, Cassie suggests we go see a movie and something unlocks in my brain: I love comedies! And action films!
I get so excited and start looking on my phone for local showtimes.
“Wow,” she says, “I haven’t seen you like this since… Well, for quite a while.”
I feel myself blush, which is always a weird feeling, being that I’m a guy and a bit shy about emotions. I will say it’s nice to feel so fucking sure about something, even if it’s just going to see a movie.
I look through the listings and find one starring Chris Pratt. I somehow remember that he likes to be in action movies and play a comedic part.
It will be a perfect combo. The last thing I want to do is sit through some serious movie that might be a downer. I need to laugh and feel some levity. I think we both do. So, this movie will be perfect.
With the choice picked out and Amanda graciously agreeing to watch Alice, we head out to grab a bite to eat first. We decide on a pizza place, which again, reminds me of something: I love pizza! It’s so good. If I could eat it every single day, I would.
We order a medium pie with Italian sausage and fresh tomatoes. We joke about anchovies and how disgusting they are. Then I seem to recall I actually kinda like them.
And I actually kinda like Cassie right now. But rather than admit both of these facts, I just let it slide. Maybe one day I can bare my entire soul to her, anchovies and all.
“So, you’re a big Chris Pratt fan?” she asks me while we’re waiting for our pie.
“Oh yeah,” I say. “I remembered I liked him and started watching Parks and Recreation again on my laptop. I know I’ve seen it all before but it’s sort of like watching it again for the first time.”
“I love that show too,” she admits.
“No way!” I exclaim. “Are you kidding me? Who’s your favorite character?”
“Me? Me, I’m all about Ron Swanson,” she says coyly.
“He is amazing,” I say.
“Loves meat, the 2nd Amendment, and cutting back government regulations,” she says, laughing. “But he also has a very sweet side to him. He really cares for Leslie and considers April to be like a daughter to him. I like guys who have those qualities. Strong with a sense of authority, but also kind of a softy inside.”
As I have a think about what she just said, the pizza arrives. I ask for extra red pepper and Parmesan cheese. It’s steaming fresh, right out of the oven.
Cassie must be hungry, since she grabs a slice right off the pan. The way she blows on the cheese and sauce to cool it strikes me as pretty adorable. But it seems like most of the things Cassie does hit me that way.
She takes her first bite and then immediately heads for a sip of her sparkling water. Then she notices how I’m looking at her.
“What?” she asks shyly. “Is there something on my face? And why aren’t you eating?”
“I’m waiting for the pizza to cool off,” I reply.
“Well, you could do this,” she says, while blowing on her slice again.
“I would look silly doing that,” I say, with a laugh. “Besides, I prefer natural cooling. I don’t want to accelerate the process and make the cheese and sauce layer ratio all out of whack.”
“Oh, so you say I’m doing it all wrong?” she asks, taunting me.
“I’m not getting baited into that,” I say, putting my hands up. “That is an unwinnable battle. I concede defeat. You are victorious over me. I raise the white flag and surrender.”
“You can’t get away with it that easily, mister,” she says. “Are you trying to tell me you’re a pizza expert? Do you have your own YouTube channel? Are you featured on the Food Network? In magazines? Tell me now.”
I grab a slice.
“Oh, so now it’s ready to eat?” she asks mockingly. “The pizza expert says so?”
“It is,” I say.
I take a bite and sigh with satisfaction.
“It’s absolutely perfect.”
Dammit. When she’s relaxed, she’s actually pretty cool. And for a few seconds there I got lost in the moment and totally forgot about my amnesia.
Cassie takes another slice. I take one, too. This pizza place is definitely getting added to my list of go-to places.
“So, you do real estate,” I say. “What got you into that?”
“Well, I went to college and really got interested in taking business classes,” she explains. “But I couldn’t stay in school after Daniel and I split up — that’s Alice’s father. So, I took my desi
re to learn more about business and applied it to working in real estate. Things were going well for a while, but then the bottom fell out. My dad passed away and my mom moved away, to be closer to her own parents. Money started to dry up, so I had to take a chance and come out here.”
“Sounds like we’re both looking for some sort of fresh start,” I say.
“Indeed. I could personally use it. The real estate business is indeed booming out here,” she says. “I just need my foot in the door.”
“You can do it,” I tell her.
She smiles and grabs another slice from the pie.
“I was soooooo hungry and this pizza is so good,” she declares happily.
I wonder for a moment if she is skipping meals – due to either lack of time or money or maybe both – and if that is why she is so hungry. She should at least take an energy bar with her when she goes out for interviews. But again, she could just be stopping at fast food places. That sort of junk depletes your energy and makes you hungrier sometimes.
This pizza must be a rare treat for me. I am ripped all over. I’m going to start working out as soon as I get the go ahead from the doc.
I want to keep my own energy levels up and running. I also want to remain well-balanced, a high-octane machine capable of handling whatever life throws at me. Just no more fucking cliff diving!
I have quite a bit of money in my account, so I cover the bill. She smiles and thanks me. It must be hard on her, as this area is rather expensive to live in.
We head out to her car and ride over to the movie complex. It’s a new building, complete with 16 screens, including an IMAX theater and one of those theaters where the seats vibrate during the action scenes.
The neon signs are bright and inviting. Many people are coming and going. I’m happy to see such activity here; it makes the evening feel more alive and real.
There are several restaurants in the complex area, including a frozen yogurt shop. I have a feeling Cassie is a fro-yo kinda gal. But then again, who isn’t? I’m sure I was, if only I could remember.
“Do you want to go to the frozen yogurt shop after?” I ask her.
“Depends on if I feel too full after having popcorn,” she says.
“Popcorn!” I say. “Well alright then. Are you the kind of person who puts butter on top?”
“No way!” she says. “I think it’s kinda gross. The salt is enough. It just has to be freshly popped. Nothing worse than stale popcorn.”
“And what about frozen yogurt? What flavors do you usually go for?” I ask.
“Well, one place I really like has Oreo yogurt,” she says. “They have the cookie flavor on one side and the cream on the other. If you want to mix them, you can, but I prefer to keep them separate.”
“So, there’s a science behind it?” I ask in a humorous manner.
“There is indeed, silly!” she says, laughing. “I take my yogurt and popcorn and pizza seriously, thank you.”
“I can tell!”
We enter the theater through the big glass doors. It seems every movie theater has a similar entrance set-up, which is good, because I start to remember other facades and other cinemas.
We walk through the lobby. I bring out my phone and the ticket attendant scans the barcode. He’s a nice guy, a little chubby, but with a friendly smile.
Next up: Popcorn!
We get a large bucket and decline the offer for butter. We also get two bottles of water and some napkins and then we make our way in to get our seats.
I was able to reserve our seats in the app. I went ahead and picked a spot right in the middle, about seven rows up. You get the best view of the screen and the most optimal sound that way.
The movie is exactly what I needed. Maybe it’s what we both needed. I feel her getting closer to me during the romantic parts. For a moment, our hands touch. It is electric.
The movie ends, and we wait for the after-credits scene. I see other couples get up to leave. Don’t they know there’s another scene on the way? Maybe they don’t care.
Maybe they don’t check the sites online for stuff like that. Apparently, I do, because I did for this movie, automatically.
I must be a bit of a movie buff. Regardless, as people leave, I see how caring an older man is for his wife, or girlfriend, or whatever. He gently helps guide her down the steps and out towards the exit. There is definite tenderness there.
I see another couple both already looking at their phones as they descend. There’s that phone addiction, striking again. It’s a wonder they don’t trip and fall!
They’re together, yet distant. How can you be in the moment with a person when you are clearly engaged elsewhere via social media?
Outside the movie theater, we start walking back to the car.
“That was incredible!” I say. “Can you believe that the villain was really the butler all along?”
“He seemed so nice!” Cassie agrees.
We both laugh. After a few moments, we’re back at the car. I go to open the door for her and she stops me.
“Thank you for helping me,” she says.
“Oh, it’s no bother at all,” I say.
“No, I mean it,” she reiterates. “I’m sorry I was so bitchy to you, that time you watched Alice for me. I know I should have been grateful that you did. And I was. I just… I don’t know. Alice exaggerated your level of strictness and made it sound like you disciplined her more harshly than you did. And I was embarrassed I had to leave her with you at all. And also… well…”
She sighs, as if she doesn’t want to finish that thought. So instead, she seems to drop it.
“I suck at apologies but I just really appreciate all that you’ve done for me, so I thought I should bring that up and let you know I was out of line.”
She looks up at me and our eyes connect.
“It’s no problem at all,” I tell her. “I’m sorry for the mean things I said to you that day. And apparently, in the past. I want us to not hate each other.”
“I want the same thing,” she agrees.
I lean in and she pushes up on her tippy-toes. We kiss – softy at first, then passionately. Her mouth is warm.
And I learn something new, as I want to kiss Cassie again and again. I realize she is quite a good kisser.
We pull back and she smiles up at me.
“Do you remember the haunted farm and the dark room in the barn?” she asks.
“Yeah, yeah, I actually kinda do,” I say, feeling a bit of surprise. “That’s where we first kissed.”
We did kiss. I remember it now. And it was almost as good as this kiss was just now.
“Yes,” she says. “I’ve been waiting a long time to get back to that moment.”
“You could have fooled me,” I laugh.
“Well, I guess that’s what all the hate was about,” she admits. “I wanted you to kiss me again, and you never did. Well, that, and you were a big cocky asshole.”
“I see,” I laugh, figuring that I probably was an asshole. “It all makes sense now.”
“Yeah, so, what I was going to say a moment ago was that I was mad at you that day because I didn’t want to like you,” she confesses. “I wanted you gone, so I didn’t have to fight the temptation.”
“Well, I guess that’s a good enough reason to be harsh with me,” I tell her. “I forgive you.”
After another kiss, we let this new moment linger. Then we get back in the car and head to the fro-yo shop.
Even with occasional moments of recall, such as rediscovering I like comedy and action movies, and that I know so much about sports and pizza, I have been so worried I would never get my memories back and I would be lost, with no sense of purposefulness. I don’t feel that way anymore about those lost fragments before my accident. Those memories I might not ever get back.
It doesn’t matter, because now I’m creating new ones. With this amazing girl who used to hate me, but also really liked me. And now only likes me – I hope.
Chapter
Eighteen
Cassie
Amanda and Charles are going away to the mountains for a weekend getaway they planned months ago. I have to say, I’m a bit jealous that they’re able to go away on fun trips when they want to.
I should bury that envy, however, and just be happy for them. I’ve been far too bitter lately. I’m feeling better now that things are going well between Devon and me, though. I can find inspiration in their success in business and as a couple and strive for my own rewards one day.
“I might have a solid lead on this realty gig,” I say, lounging on a chair in their master bedroom. “I should know soon whether or not I’ve secured the position.”
“That will be great!” Amanda says excitedly, as I watch her finish packing.
“It is terrible, having to wait for news,” I say, “but I’m confident it will mean I’m finally turning a corner.”
“Take all the time you need, sweetie,” Amanda says reassuringly.
She closes her bag and zips it.
“Thank you so much,” I say. “I’m sorry for being such a bitch that time I told you to kick Devon out. It was completely out of line.”
“I know, and that’s why I tried to talk some sense into you. But it was a while ago and all in the past. No worries. Do you want a latte?” she asks. “I’m making one.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I say.
And it does sound wonderful. I could use a pick-me-up right now. Leave it to Amanda to accept my apology with a peace offering that involves caffeine, in return.
We head downstairs to the kitchen and I take a seat at the table. Amanda putters over to the expresso machine.
“Almond milk okay?” she inquires. “Mary suggested using it. She swears by its goodness. You know her!
“I’ve never had it with almond milk,” I say. “But sure, I would love to try it.”
“Trust me: it’s yummy!” she says excitedly.
“So, Amanda, speaking of fixing things,” I say, changing the subject, “Can I use your kitchen to cook for Devon while you and Charles are away this weekend?”
