by A K August
She squirmed in her chair and didn't make eye contact. Dad also seemed distracted, getting up quickly to refill our beverages. "I didn't say I was waiting until the baby was born, I just don't know the sex yet."
"Why are you waiting?" As soon as it left my mouth, I wanted to take the question back. It was none of my business. I'd just met Katie. I didn't even know her last name, and I was challenging her decisions about her baby? Who did I think I was? Before I could take it back or apologize, Katie surprised me and answered the question matter-of-factly.
"I don't know what the baby's father wants to do. I need to discuss it with him first."
Where was her husband? The couple of times I'd seen her in the hospital, she was alone. I assumed he was working. But she hadn't talked about him all day. My eyes shot down to her bare hand. Was she not married? Or Separated? He was alive; she spoke about the baby's father as if she'd see him soon. But he wasn't here.
I had so many questions but bit these back. If I started to interrogate her about the baby's father, she'd probably leave and never come back. I needed her to come back. She was my link to my missing memory. I had to focus on that.
"Katie, how often can you visit?"
She looked from me to Dad, who shrugged. That's weird, but I'll ask him about that later.
When she looked back at me, she was puzzled. "Why?"
Honesty seemed the safest route and more likely to be received well. "While you've been here today, I've been having flashes of you, here at the house, on my Aunt's farm. It's the most my brain has fired in the week I've been awake. I feel like you are the most likely person who can help my memory return."
She didn't hesitate. "I can visit every day."
Dad smiled and for the first time since I realized I had amnesia, I could see the light in the tunnel. It was dim and flickered, but it was there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
KATIE
"You can't plant both a lime tree and a lemon tree. You have to choose." I shook my head and planted my hands on my back for support. God, how big could my belly get? My OB said I was within normal ranges, but every day it seems to swell like someone added air to my belly balloon overnight. I resisted the urge to measure my waist. I didn't need to add depression to my ailments.
"Why not? There's room for both. I don't want to choose." Anthony held two trees by their trunks, as we argued in the nursery.
"You plant both and their roots will mingle. You won't get lemons and limes; you'll get some weird cross plant – Limon or something. I forget what they call it."
We were supposed to be at the arboretum right now, but Anthony decided he wanted to expand the planter boxes in the backyard and add some vegetables, so we made a detour. We'd seen each other every day for the last month. He started picking me up at home close to lunchtime, then after lunch, we'd do something. I went to a few of his PT sessions and scowled at how hard he was pushing himself. The therapists wisely gave him exercises and limits of what he could do from home. According to Thomas, he was doing those exercises every day, almost four hours a day. The rest of the time he spent with me, as much as I would let him. Lunches at the house or in the city once he was strong enough to get around without the walker, then it was trips to museums or the park. Now the nursery.
"Limon?" Anthony scoffed. 'Where did you hear that?"
"Look it up. You have a smartphone. While you're at it, you should check on what you can plant this time of year. Cucumbers and carrots don't grow in the same season."
We didn't talk about his missing month. We didn't talk about the baby. We just became friends. It warmed my heart and tore me to pieces in the same breath. And he was still sexy. His physique was leaner, but he was working hard to build back the muscles and I could see the tone rippling under his t-shirt. My pregnancy hormones were murder too. I went through batteries faster than a clown makes balloon animals. I had to force myself to look away from Anthony for fear I would either dry hump him or start drooling. Neither would be explainable.
I wandered over to look at the annuals and picked up a couple I thought would look nice on my desk—a little purple-pick-me-up.
Anthony came up behind me, draping his arm over my shoulder. I resisted leaning into his warm hard body. He must have felt me stiffen as he quickly dropped the arm.
"I decided to get the lime tree now, but I'll keep it in the living room for the winter, then plant it in the spring."
That's what I felt like, a kept plant to play with during the winter. Eventually, he'd tire of me, and I'd be kicked out of his house, like in three months when I had his baby.
◆◆◆
"I can't do this anymore, Annie. I'm going crazy."
Annie handed me a spoon and a carton of ice cream then went back for her wine. "Then tell him you can't see him anymore."
"What? Why would I do that? He's the father of my baby!" I threw my hands up and almost sent the ice cream flying into my wall.
Annie settled on the floor in front of me. "What other choice do you have?"
"Hypno-therapy. They can put him under and tell his stubborn-ass mind to remember." I shoveled ice cream in my mouth and almost gagged.
"Eww. What is this?"
"Chunky Monkey. Your favorite."
"Ugh. Not anymore. Please put this away. The banana is making me sick."
I followed Annie into the kitchen and rummaged through my cabinets, pulling out a jar of stuffed olives and a bag of marshmallows.
"Then tell him the truth."
I paused with an olive in my hand. "The doctors said that wasn't a good idea."
"That was almost two months ago when he was frail from being asleep for so long and nobody knew what to expect. How long are you supposed to treat him with kid gloves? Is he just supposed to go through life, never remembering?"
I popped the olive in my mouth, stuffing a marshmallow right behind it.
"Eww. Now that is revolting." Annie shuddered and grabbed the bottle of wine before returning to the living room.
"Here's something else to ponder, Katie. Which would you rather have: Anthony never knowing he's Ladybug's father, or knowing he's the father but not remember the time you and he shared?"
I hated her question, but it was a natural choice. Anthony and I would never get back what we had. That was clear. If I was important to him then he couldn't just forget. Being with me should have triggered something.
ANTHONY
After ten weeks of PT, I was almost back to full strength. I would need to do stretches every day to keep my scar tissue from freezing up, but there wasn't anything more the therapists could do for me. The rest was on my own. I was cleared for work, but Jeff told me to take as much time as I needed, and I didn't feel ready to go back. I still had holes in my head and it made me second-guess everything.
Everything except Katie; she was my energy force and so beautiful and opinionated and witty, and god was she sexy. She sashayed like she was walking on a bog, the ground spongy, giving her a lilt in her steps. Her long toned legs peeked through the dresses she wore and made my cock ache. I felt dirty lusting after a pregnant woman that wasn't mine to begin with.
Every once in a while, I caught Katie looking at me, and I wanted to ask her what she was thinking, her eyes wistful. But somewhere in our current relationship, we decided not to delve into the past. I wasn't sure if I stopped asking questions or Katie said something, but we hadn't spoken about that time in weeks.
Part of me wanted to push her, hoping it would help my brain click and open up my memories. The other half enjoyed being with Katie and didn't want it to end. I felt there was something in that past that would change things between us.
I'd asked Katie a couple of questions about Ladybug's father and she always gasped when I did, like I surprised her. She'd give me vague answers then change the subject. I kept thinking I'd meet him at some point when I drove to Katie's apartment to pick her up. But that never happened. Katie was always ready and waiting on her stoop.
> Her standing there, waiting, made me giddy, like today. I'm two blocks from her place and can't wait to see her. The Smithsonian has a lecture about documentary filmmaking, and Ken Burns was going to be on hand for a Q&A. Katie had mentioned wanting to go to it, so I got us tickets.
Only Katie wasn't on her stoop when I pulled up. A panic came over me that I quashed.
I'm sure it's nothing. I'm a little early as all. I'll just ring her bell.
As I approached her door, a feeling of dread came over me. Something wasn't right. I pounded on the door and yelled for Katie to answer. She swung the door open several seconds later, a scowl on her face. "What's with the pounding?"
I looked past her shoulder, trying to see into the room. "Are you okay?"
My eyes must have looked wild because she took my hand, lowering her voice. "I'm fine. Why would you think otherwise?"
"Can I come in? I have to see. Make sure."
She stepped aside, and I brushed past her, reaching for my gun, which wasn't under my shoulder since I'm on leave and not allowed to carry one.
Shit!
I entered the apartment quickly but carefully, making sure no one could get the drop on me. I turned the corner into the kitchen, convinced I would find someone lurking, ready to attack.
But the room was empty. I looked around the space, something still nibbling in the back of my brain. I looked back at the kitchen and saw Katie lying on the floor, gasping for breath. "Katie!" I screamed, lunging for her. Only she disappeared.
What the fuck?
"Anthony?" Katie's voice spun me around.
She stood in the hall just outside her kitchen. What's going on?
Her eyes were wide and scared. "You haven't been here since that night."
Her words made me head hurt.
"The attack happened in my kitchen and you rushed in and saved me."
I spun around to see the kitchen again as the memory came rushing in. I remembered Katie spilling her tea at the coffee shop, and following her around all day, parking outside her house.
Oh shit, the banana.
Then the attack in the kitchen and breaking in the door to get to Katie.
"You were okay, but he got away."
She just nodded. "How much do you remember?"
She led me to the sofa and we sat down. "Our roles were reversed," I chuckled. "You were on the sofa, I sat…." I looked around, but it wasn't in the room. "What happened to your coffee table?"
She waved it off, "it's in a better home."
"That was the night you went into protective custody."
Her eyes shimmered with happy tears. "Do you know what triggered your memory?"
I shook my head. "It was like I sensed something about your apartment and saw flashes, but it didn't click until you told me what happened, then it all flooded me."
Katie stood up and started pacing and mumbling in her living room. "Think, Katie!"
I stared at her kitchen. What made me remember? Katie said I hadn't been inside her apartment since her attack. The last time we were here together. "We have to go to the farm."
I stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door. "It's the only thing that makes sense. You've been to the house, and I've seen small flashes of you there, but I come here and POW! The farm could be where it all comes back."
We were in the car and on the highway before either of us thought through what this could mean.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
KATIE
When we pulled down the long graveled driveway, nostalgia overwhelmed me. The first time I arrived, I was confused and scared and fighting my desire for Anthony. In a way, I felt the same emotions on this trip. I still wanted to jump Anthony, even more now, watching that twinkle in his eye as he took charge of this adventure. God, I hope it worked. If it didn't, I'd have to tell Anthony about the baby. Ladybug deserved a father, even if it would break me in two.
Anthony helped me from the car, just like before. Only Claire wasn't here to greet us.
"Come on!" Anthony laughed, tugging me forward.
"Where are we going?"
"To the creek."
Anthony jogged ahead and stopped where the land dipped, creating an access point for vehicles to cross the water. I could see us here so many months ago. That warm summer day, wading in the crisp water, splashing each other, almost kissing. I also remember what happened after I ran back to the house. Is it hot out here?
I took out the hand fan I've started carrying and hoped the cold air pushing against my neck would temper my heated core.
"You were here, in the water, right?" Anthony looks anxious.
"Yes. It was a hot day and you were grouchy. I splashed you to get you to lighten up."
"I splashed you back."
"YES! You remember?" Holy crap. It was working.
He shook his head. "No. In the picture in my head, you're damp, so I assumed."
He turned around and headed back to the house, his head hanging.
I reached out and caught his arm. "Anthony!" He paused in his steps, and I acted instinctively, stepping into his frame and wrapping my arms around him, holding him. "It's going to be okay."
His head hit my shoulders and his arms enveloped me in a fierce hug. The sensation of being back in his arms almost made me whimper. We stood there comforting each other, his body shaking as he cried out his frustrations. My hands roamed over his back, trying to soothe him with my touch, my fingers running through his hair. I breathed him in and stored the memory. This may be the last time we are like this.
I pulled back and cupped his face in my hands. Despair clouded his features and pulled at my heart. I reached up and lightly kissed him, wanting to ease his pain somehow. The electricity shot between us as our lips met, and I felt his grip tightening around me, his hand reaching up to capture my head, holding me in place as he groaned and slammed into me. Passion overrode any thoughts as I kissed him back. Months of having a glass wall between us had made me desperate for his taste. I took everything I could and returned more, moaning into his mouth as his tongue lashed against mine.
Leaning into him, I practically wrapped my leg around him, frantic for the feel of his body. Ladybug kicked and Anthony jumped back, staring at my stomach.
"What was that?"
I took a couple of deep breaths to calm my heart before responding. "Ladybug, the gymnast."
I pulled Anthony's hand to my stomach, where there was still activity. "Get ready for the dismount."
His eyes were glued to my stomach, fascinated. "Wow."
I chuckled. "Yeah, wow. Until Ladybug decides to use my bladder for a trampoline."
When Ladybug had enough and decided to nap, Anthony removed his hands and stepped back sheepishly. "I'm sorry for earlier, that was inappropriate."
Well, shit.
It was a spontaneous kiss and it was hot. Like we'd always been, the passion hitting and consuming us in all the best ways. How could it not trigger Anthony's memory? His lust was still there, but it wasn't the same. My Anthony wouldn't be coming back to me.
"The baby is yours, Anthony."
I just blurted it out and I sounded pissed. I guess I was angry. Not about the baby, never about Ladybug. Ladybug came from my love for Anthony. But it was unrequited. He'd taken a finely honed chisel to my emotional walls and destroyed me without ever intending on reciprocating. Now he had amnesia to fall back on. How perfect. I couldn't even express my anger toward him because he didn't remember any of it.
What's worse: never remembering the most intense and happiest time in your life or being the only person who does?
I stomped away without waiting for a reply to my big reveal. I couldn't stand there knowing what was coming. I was alone in this and I could manage. I'd been procrastinating on anything related to baby prep, holding out this hope that My Anthony, the one I loved and who, in my dreams, loved me back, would return, and we'd experience these things together. That was never going to happen. I had to let it go.
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Stop living in the fantasy world, Katie!
Thomas had graciously offered to help in whatever I needed. While I couldn't dream of taking his money, I'd call upon him as the grandfather to help set up the baby's room. Furniture, especially a crib, I heard was daunting. Really, I only needed a changing table and bassinet for the first months. I also need to get the painting done before the baby came. The rest I could figure out.
In my head, I was cataloging items that I needed to do, so I barely heard Anthony yelling my name as he ran to catch up with me.
"Don't worry; I don't want anything from you. I just thought you deserved to know." I kept my eyes on the car, dreading the unavoidable long drive back to the city.
Smart Katie, blurting that out while stuck in the middle of nowhere.
"Hey. Wait. Katie. Please. Stop." Anthony spun in front of me, blocking my path.
My hormones were rampant and I struggled to keep from crying. That's the last thing I wanted him to see. I halted but couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye.
ANTHONY
Did I just hear Katie correctly—she's having my baby? I'm still reeling from the kiss that I felt all the way to my toes. My brain must have mixed up words or something. This emotional overload can't be good for my memory recovery—I was supposed to stay calm and allow my head to heal, then my memories would return. But that wasn't working. I'd just cried on Katie's shoulder, mauled her with a passion I hadn't felt in years, then been kicked in the gut with a confession for the ages.
If Katie is having my baby, that means we slept together.
Good one, Anthony. Human Anatomy 101. I know, but I'm still processing.
This desire I've been feeling, that's the root. We'd been together. How many times? Where? When? How was it? Probably not best to dwell on those questions when Katie is tromping away.
"Katie!" For being massively pregnant, she was quick. I got a flash of Katie running down the gravel path, looking over her shoulder, laughing as she headed to the guesthouse.
