“She was just twelve when we parted,” I explained. “I was fifteen, and now I'm almost twenty-eight. My appearance has changed a lot. It’s very likely that she wouldn’t be able to place my face at all.”
He was silent as he stared at me. “I thought you were very close back then?”
“We were, but like I said I was just a boy then. Even without the accident it would be hard for her to recognize me. Even I can hardly see any trace of that kid in the mirror anymore.”
“If you were as close as you’ve mentioned, then her recognition of you should go beyond just your physical attributes, unless you’ve done a complete 180° change in every single aspect of who you were. Mr. Wolfe, if she can’t recognize you through your face, perhaps she’ll be able to with her heart.”
Another thought occurred to me. “What about my name? Do I give her my real name? Will that cause any problems?”
“Isn’t her recollection of you what you want?” he asked gently, and I could clearly hear the exhaustion in his tone now. I’d been sitting in front of him asking him a plethora of questions over the last hour and a half. In the beginning, he’d been quite glad to answer all my questions, but as I kept on repeating them to be sure of every instruction he was giving to me, he seemed to fade before my eyes.
But I was terrified of making a mistake with her. I couldn’t make any mistakes with her. This was my only chance, and I would rather kill myself than screw it all up by being careless.
I gave him my response. “It is, but … if there is even the slightest chance I will damage her.”
He leaned forward. “Let’s do things this way. Let’s play it by ear. When do you intend on paying her a visit?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Well then, go up to her, and watch her face for any recognition of you whatsoever. If there is none, then you can go ahead and introduce yourself.”
I frowned. “By a different name?”
He sighed heavily. “If that’s what you want.”
“Won’t that complicate things? It won’t be in my best interest if she eventually regains her memory, and finds out that I lied to her.”
“Caleb,” the man said, completely fed up. “We spoke about this exact thing thirty minutes ago. I cannot tell you what to do. You can bounce ideas off me, but in the end, you must decide yourself. Let’s break it down. You definitely don’t want her to remember the details of her terrible past.”
I nodded. “That’s right.”
“But you want her to remember you?”
“Only if it doesn’t bring the other stuff back,” I replied.
“Caleb,” he said gently. “It will not be your fault if she remembers the darkness again. No matter how bad they are, they still belong to her. Don’t keep obsessing over what she will or will not remember. Be honest with her, and allow things to take its natural course. One thing I can tell you is people who lose parts of their memories often feel vulnerable and exposed. They have to live with the fact that there is a crucial part of their history that is missing and the unsettling feeling that out there someone knows something about them that they themselves don’t.”
He paused.
“In fact, the patients I’ve treated, who have suffered from memory blanks caused by trauma, ended up being incredibly guarded and careful around people. They had little habits, fears, and instinctive bodily reactions that they couldn’t understand. One woman I was seeing was afraid of only one breed of dog. For many years, she couldn’t understand it and it bothered her immensely. Then one day she found out from an old school friend that breed of dog had almost bitten them and chased them up a tree. It was a great relief for her to find out and after that she could put that irrational fear aside. With such a dark and horrifying past hidden away from your friend, she must be a bundle of nerves and paranoia. My advice to you is this. Go slowly. Don’t push or try to force her memories. You’ll make mistakes along the way as you try to find a way back into her life, but the one thing she should never fault you on is that you were dishonest with her. Or you used the vulnerability of her missing memories against her. That is the last thing that you want to do.”
He then rose to indicate the meeting was over.
“Thank you, doc,” I said slowly, and finally forced myself to leave his office.
5
Willow
The store’s front door tinkled as it was pushed open.
I was going through our surprisingly impressive sales report for the day, and although I wasn’t really expecting any more customers, I wasn’t averse to more.
When I lifted my head and saw the three girls who had come into the store though, my heart fell into my stomach. Sandra, Victoria, and Helen were dressed to the nines in scanty dresses and ankle-breaker heels. If they had intended to look as if they were man-hunting, they had succeeded. I gazed at them blankly, at the cans of beer they already had in their hands.
“It’s almost nine, Mother Teresa,” Sandra called out, almost giddy with excitement. “Get away from that counter and come change. I brought gorgeous things with me.”
“C’mon, Willow. Don’t be a stick in the mud," Helen screamed. “It’s going to be an awesome night.”
I dragged Sandra in the back of the shop and whispered fiercely, “Why are they here?”
“Victoria called,” she said with an unconcerned shrug. “She said they were heading over to Bacchus House. Apparently, there’s a speed dating event for singles there, and of course, a whole hour of free sangrias on the house, so I thought we could all get drunk and loosen up a little there before we hit the town. What response did you expect me to give them?”
“Uh ... ‘a no, thank you I already have plans with Willow’ doesn’t sound reasonable enough to you?”
“Oh c’mon. We all went to high school together. Sure, they were occasionally mean to you then, but we’ve all moved on in life. Helen is in community college, and Victoria, well, she got knocked up, didn’t she? Wait a second,” she paused, her eyes suddenly widening, “Why does she even have a drink in her hands?”
“Whohoooo.” The subject in question released a shout, and then came crashing into the back, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “What are you guys doing? Let’s get going! It’s gonna be a fucking awesome night. I’m so going to get laid tonight.”
“Victoria, aren’t you pregnant … and engaged?”
“Oh, calm down,” she waved her hand in dismissal. “Arthur and me are testing out this open relationship thing since he’s going to be out of town almost all the time for his sales gigs. I don’t want to restrict or frustrate him, and he doesn’t want to do the same to me either so we’re trying to work things out."
My eyebrows shot to my hairline, while Sandra headed over to her, her face filled with concern. “I’m not talking about Arthur. I’m talking about your baby. You’re not supposed to be drinking.”
She wobbled and even I felt alarm. I moved to catch her, but she straightened herself.
“Oh relax, both of you. There’s no alcohol in this.”
“Then why are you wobbling?” I asked.
“Force of habit,” she replied with a grin.
Just then, Helen joined us, actually she staggered over, but Sandra caught her before she could crash into the table of freshly potted plants that Sandra had spent the last few days slaving over. That would have brought an immediate end to any fun that the girls planned on having for the night.
“I tripped,” Helen giggled, the beer from her can spilling everywhere, much to my irritation. “But I’m not drunk. Not yet”
Both of the girls burst out in laughter and I turned an unimpressed face to Sandra. At that rate we would have flies not bees flocking around us.
But Sandra was not to be put off. “The more the merrier,” she said, pushing me towards my tiny office. “It’s going to be a fantastic night. Now go get changed before the free bar closes.”
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t want to go. It looked like it was going to be a
disaster of a night, but I felt almost obliged to go now, because I could see the state of the girls. Someone had to watch over Sandra. I quickly slipped out of my comfortable jeans and T-shirt. Then I shimmied into the red dress with the two tiny strings connecting the back together, and stared at the stilettos that Sandra wanted me to switch my dark Converses for.
My heart bled at the thought.
But I couldn’t very well wear my Converses with the red dress so I slipped into them and returned to the front of the shop.
It was empty. I saw Helen and Victoria standing outside smoking and Sandra was not amongst them.”
I pulled the door open. “Where did Sandra go?”
“To the store,” Victoria answered. “She wants to get some water and snacks for later, in case she gets hungry.”
“Oh, okay.” I returned inside and decided to finish the sales report for the day. I immediately got sucked into it, until the doorbell tinkled again.
I didn’t even bother looking up. “Sandra, I just need five minutes to round this up or else I’m going to be thinking about it all night.”
There was no response.
Suddenly, my skin started to prickle. I lifted my gaze and the words I had planned in my head died in my throat.
The person standing before me was definitely not Sandra.
6
Caleb
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aY2sBDPgOXU
I forgot how to breathe.
The photos I had seen of her gave her no justice. The woman in front of me was even more beautiful in person. Not just beautiful. She was why the term breathtaking was coined.
The enormous, soft brown eyes full of innocence were exactly as I remembered them, but the adorable gap in her teeth was gone. Deep inside me, I mourned for its loss. Back then, her chestnut brown hair had been wavy and barely brushed her shoulders, but now it was bone straight, side-parted, and flowed all the way down to the arch of her back in a silky curtain.
And that dress! Jesus!
The blood red material clung to every inch of her woman’s body, hugging the curves of her hips and stretching across her full chest. One of the red straps holding the whole ensemble together, had dropped off her shoulders and it didn’t just show the creamy perfection of the exposed skin, it made her appear half-undressed. As if …
I couldn’t tear my eyes off her body.
Of course, I’d expected to feel something when I showed up in front of her again, but searing lust that cut me to the bone had not been one of them. There had been no lust when I was fifteen. All I wanted to do then was protect her from the world.
I released a shuddering breath, and tried to wipe from my expression any trace of emotions that could betray the craving I felt. As far as she was concerned, I was a complete stranger ... a customer just stopping by. To me she was my life, the girl who kept me going in prison, who had been in my every waking moment for the past twelve years.
“Hi,” I greeted softly.
She seemed to have gone completely still from the sight of me, but it didn’t appear to be out of recognition. At least I didn’t think it was. Most probably because I had startled her.
She stared at me as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. “You’re here to buy flowers?”
My heart thudded in my chest. “I am.”
She pushed the red strap back onto her shoulder and straightened her spine. “Then you’re in luck. I was just about to close up for the night. Do you know what you want?”
For a second it felt as if there was another, underlying conversation going on. As if we were not actually talking about flowers and bouquets, but were connecting on a deeper level.
Then she frowned and shook her head as if to clear it. “I meant … your preference. The type of flowers you want.”
“Yes, I do.”
She brought her palms up and pressed them against her pale cheeks. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. I guess I’m a little out of it.”
“That’s alright,” I said quickly. “I know exactly what I want.”
“Roses. I suppose you’ll want roses.”
She had sounded quite stressed and I didn’t want to overwhelm her so I dragged my gaze away from her and pretended to glance at the silver buckets filled with flowers. It gave her time to go to the small counter. She stood stiffly behind it and waited for me.
“Not roses, I want Red Magic Daylilies,” I said, and turned to watch her reaction.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I’d like a dozen Red Magic Daylilies,” I repeated softly.
“I … I … uh … I’m afraid we focused mainly on rose bouquets today since it’s Valentine’s Day.” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. I watched her chew at the juicy plump flesh. “We do have some Red Magic Daylilies, but I doubt that it’ll suffice.”
“That’s alright. I’ll take what you have.”
“Perhaps I can mix it up with some other flowers so it should make for a splendid bouquet.”
“I’ll leave you to decide,” I murmured.
Just then, the bell attached to the door rang. Already the outside world had come to intrude. We both turned to see three women enter the store. They were speaking in loud excited tones, which quickly died down when they noticed my presence.
“Oh, hello,” one of them greeted, while the other two stared at me with slack-jaws.
I gave them a curt nod, and turned back towards Willow. “I’m in a hurry. Do you deliver?”
“Yes, yes, we do.”
“Good. Sometime tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yes, we can do tomorrow afternoon.”
I stepped closer to the counter so that she could take down my information.
As she typed my address into her computer, I couldn’t help gazing at her, greedily taking in every detail. She still had the same impossibly long eyelashes that made her huge liquid-chocolate eyes even more mesmerizing. It was easy to drown in them. The softness of adolescence still clung to her cheeks and her eyebrows were gently arched. Her nose was straight and narrow, and her lips, were as plump as they had always been. There was not a trace of makeup on her face, but I couldn’t imagine makeup could improve her. It was no wonder she did not use it.
She was still small though. Back then I used to tease her and she had sworn to me that she would eventually become as tall as me, or perhaps even taller. How I wished that I was able to bring it up, to tease her about it.
I could still remember her laughing. She didn’t laugh often. She didn’t have reason to, but when she did... She would throw her head back and laugh out with wild abandon… the soft belly sounds deep, and rumbling up her chest. I had fallen in love with that sound, and at that moment I longed to hear it once again.
She raised her eyes up to me. When our gazes met, it was like touching live electricity. Her eyes widened with shock. We stared at each other. I could smell her scent. It had changed. It was no longer almost milky, but stronger, sweeter.
The rest of the world fell away.
Until one of the girls behind us cleared her throat loudly. The sound startled her out of her trance-like state and she flushed a deep red. Hurriedly, she yanked my credit card out of her machine and held it out to me. “Here’s your card, Sir.”
“Thank you,” I said, and taking the card, walked past the three utterly astonished girls.
7
Willow
All of us turned around to watch him leave.
“Who the hell, was that?” Sandra asked in a dazed voice.
Someone released a breath while I quickly began to shut down my computer for the night. To be honest I felt pretty dazed myself. Who the hell was he? And what was he doing in a small town like Folsom? The address he had given was from the most exclusive part of town though.
“Did you guys hear his voice?” Victoria asked. “How could anyone’s voice be that low ... and deep?”
“And smooth,” Helen added. “Hell, when he spoke it felt like someone was pouring warm honey
down my back.”
I couldn't have agreed more. There was a lot of honey still running down my own back.
Sandra came to her senses suddenly, because she dropped her plastic bag, and ran to the door for a glimpse of him.
I slipped my heels off my feet. They were already killing me and I’d had them on for less than half an hour. No way was I wearing them.
“Damn!” Sandra turned around, disappointed. “He’s already disappeared.”
I lifted the shoes up. “I want to talk about these.”
“What was his name?” Sandra demanded, completely ignoring the issue of my shoes.
“Caleb Wolfe,” I replied with a little sigh.
“Whoa! Even his name is sexy,” Helen breathed.
“Who was he buying the flowers for?” Sandra asked.
“How would I know that?” I replied.
“He didn’t mention it?” she prodded.
“Nope.”
“Why on earth didn’t you ask? You usually do.”
“Well, since it’s Valentine’s Day I thought it would be a given he’d be buying it for a girlfriend, or sweetheart?”
“No!” She shook her head decisively. “It could be for his mom, or aunt, or sister, and that would make me very happy.”
“What are you planning to do, make a move?” Helen asked.
“Of course. Have you ever seen a man that hot? I could lick him for days”
“I have,” Victoria piped up. “My Arthur. All that construction has built him into a beast.”
Oh great. We were in for another night listening to how great Victoria and Arthur’s sex life was. I raised the shoes up again. “I’m not wearing these. They’re going to hurt. I’m going in my Converses.”
That immediately grabbed Sandra’s attention. “Are you joking? How the hell are you going to go to a bar on Valentine’s Day wearing those?”
Saint & Sinner: A Second Chance Romance Page 3
