Remembering Us Page 2

  “And he’s nice to me? You like him, really?”

  My dad’s knife scratches across his plate, sending his half-buttered roll skittering to the floor. My mom’s eyelids flicker in rapid succession a half dozen times before she glances to my dad and then back to her wine.

  “Of course, honey.” This time, there’s a slight tightening around her eyes that tells me she’s lying.

  With a fluidity that comes from decades of avoiding uncomfortable conversations, my mother begins talking about my sister, Ann, and her happily married life. She’s been married for five years and is seven years older than me. We have nothing in common and never have. But she seems to be happily married to an Air Force Pilot. She stays home with her three year old son, Cooper, and my newborn niece, Tilly, who I have yet to meet because my sister hasn’t bothered to visit or call me. Where I was always uncomfortable with my parent’s display of their wealth and preferred to live more “normally,” my sister has always thrived on the money and glamour and attention it brings. I’m a wallflower where my parents are concerned, and my sister is the beautiful social butterfly.

  I don’t bother asking any more questions for the rest of dinner, knowing the answers they gave me were the only ones I’d hear.

  I hate getting dressed in the mornings. Not like I have a lot of my options right now with my booted foot and casted arm, but every morning I stare at my clothes wondering who in the hell am I?

  Nothing makes sense. My Jimmy Choo shoes and UGG Boots have been replaced with sparkling red Doc Marten boots and flip-flops. My designer dresses are gone and now I’m left staring at stacks of denim and basic t-shirts. Even if I rejected the elite lifestyle of my parents, I’ve always worn dresses and leggings – even in the middle of the harsh Denver winters.

  My stomach churns as I stare at the boots like they’re going to jump out and bite me. I’m not a Doc Marten shit-kicking boot kind of girl. This isn’t me. None of it is … except it is. I feel tears bubbling in my eyes all over again. I bite them back, hating that after three weeks it’s a pair of shiny, red rocker-type boots that finally have my walls crumbling.

  And I hate the damn tears. I don’t want to be weak. I never cry. At least I don’t remember being such a cry-baby. But every day that I’m stuck in this apartment with nothing but black holes for memories, the questions assault me.

  Why is all our furniture mismatched?

  Why do our dressers look like they came from a garage sale?

  Who am I?

  What happened to me?

  How did I get here?

  I hate that I don’t know my best friend’s boyfriend, Zander. I’ve met him once or twice now, but apparently Kelsey is dating and also living with one of Adam’s best friends from college, Zander. I was told they moved they started dating shortly after Adam and I did. When Adam and I moved in together, Kelsey moved in with Zander.

  I can feel my blood rushing through me, adrenaline and fear and confusion all mixed together. I fall to the floor, swallowing deep breaths until the tears stay away and I’m brave enough to call the one person who will answer me. The only one I can trust.

  I smile when her grouchy voice answers the phone.

  “It’s eight in the morning, Amy. What in the hell do you need this early?”

  “Sorry.” Kelsey is worthless before nine in the morning and a twenty-ounce mug of coffee. Minimum. “I just need some help. Can you come over in a little bit?”

  She groans and I imagine her rolling over in bed, stretching. “Fine. I’ll swing by Hash and be there in thirty minutes. But you’re paying for it when I get there.”

  I groan my approval. Their bagels are to die for. Crunchy on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside, and always melt in your mouth warm. I’ve had an addiction to them since I was ten. “I’m going to take a bath, so if I don’t answer the door just let yourself in.

  Her grouchiness changes to concern. “Do you need any help?

  I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “No, I’ve been able to figure it out lately.”

  We say our good-byes and I hobble my broken and casted body toward the bathroom. For the first two weeks after I got out of the hospital, Kelsey came over every day to help me wash my hair and get cleaned up. It’s embarrassing to be twenty-two-years old and not able to take care of yourself. There was no way my mother would have wanted to help, and I didn’t want Adam’s help. Considering he’s a guy, and close to a stranger, there was no way I was letting him bathe me. Kelsey was my last option, but my first choice. We grew up trying on our first training bras together, and lucky for me, she’s a nurse now, so she’s totally comfortable with it.

  Once my casted arm is bagged, my stitches are covered, and my booted leg is draped over the edge of the tub, I do the best I can with the moveable shower head, trying to clean myself in just a couple inches of bath water.

  A rustling in the bedroom through the open bathroom door startles me, but I calm down when I realize Kelsey has probably gotten here with breakfast.

  “Hey Kels! Can you come help me?” I shout through the slightly opened door.

  I’m just about to yell for her again when the door creaks open. I stop shaving my leg, look up … and then freeze.

  “Get out!” I yell, when I realize Adam is staring at me from the doorway, and I’m completely naked. It sends a tingly feeling down my spine. “Adam! Out!”

  I look around for a towel to grab, but I must have forgotten to get one out of the cupboard because there’s nothing to cover me. And I can’t get one because there’s no I’m going to give him any more of a view than he already has.

  His head snaps to my eyes, off my bare chest, and he blinks. “Sorry, I heard you yell for help.”

  I cross my chest with my good arm while my body is buzzing with a strange sensation at him still staring at me. I can’t place the feeling, and I’m not sure I enjoy it.

  “Get out,” I snap at him. He blinks once, then twice. “I thought you were Kelsey.” He blinks again and then closes his eyes, turning to the door.

  “What are you doing here anyway?”

  His back is still facing me when he drops his head and stares at his feet. “I decided to take the day off today. I thought we could talk.”

  I puff out a breath, frustrated. “Kelsey’s coming over to talk to me.”

  “Hey, sexy girl! I brought your breakfast!” I shriek as Kelsey’s loud, hyper voice and face make an appearance in the doorway. I blush, again, at someone else seeing me naked and spread out in the bathtub. “Oh …” she says when she sees me in the tub over Adam’s shoulder. She flicks her eyes back to the living room. “Do you want me to go?”

  Her eyebrows are raised in question and there’s a slight hint of blush on her cheeks. I can only imagine what she thinks she just walked in on.

  “No,” I say firmly. “I need your help getting out though. I forgot a towel.” And I need you to shave the armpit I can’t reach, but I’m not saying that with Adam still in the doorway.

  Adam takes a step out of the bathroom and Kelsey’s hand goes to his shoulder. She shoots him a sympathetic glance, but he shakes his head and leaves the room.

  “I need you to help me shave, too,” I finally say once she’s in the bathroom with two towels stacked on the floor outside the tub.

  She nods and goes to work, then finishes rinsing the conditioner out of my hair that I missed. Once she helps me climb out of the bathtub and I’m wrapped in two towels, she holds onto my elbow for support in getting me to my bedroom.

  It’s actually the guest bedroom, but once I was brought back from the hospital to a strange place, I wasn’t ready to share a bed with a stranger. Adam offered to use the guest room, but I insisted, not entirely comfortable even sleeping in a bed that I apparently shared with him. The only thing I recognized in the entire apartment was the guest room’s bedding. The same bedding I used in my college apartment with Kelsey.

  “He would help you, you know,” Kelsey says softly once
I’m dressed in a pair of cut-off sweat shorts and tank top.

  “I can’t. I don’t even know him, and the things I do…” I let the words fall and shake my head. “How am I supposed to trust him and let him have his hands all over me?” I flip my hair over, drying it with a towel before tossing it up into a messy bun.

  Kelsey nods her head but smiles sadly. “I hope you remember everything soon. You and Adam really are perfect together. I hate seeing both of you so sad.”

  “Do you know him well?”

  Kelsey smirks. “You’ve been dating him for two years, Amy. Of course I know him well.” She wraps me into her arms, squeezing me tightly, and I fight back the instant burning in my eyes. “Do you think I would have been okay with you coming back here if I didn’t know how much he loves you and wants to be with you?”

  Something flashes across her eyes when she pulls back, but I’m not given a chance to ask what else she’s thinking before I’m ushered into the kitchen where our bagels are waiting.

  We dive into our food silently. I hate that Adam’s presence in the apartment ruins any chance for Kelsey to answer every question I have.

  “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  Adam’s voice makes me jump and my hands splash in the soapy water. It flies in my face and soaks my t-shirt. I look down and watch the water puddle all over the floor at my feet.

  “Shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He immediately grabs a towel and starts wiping the floor. “Don’t move,” he says quietly, bent down at my feet. “I don’t want you to slip and fall.”

  My heart is beating faster than normal and I feel my hands ball into fists in the water. “No big deal. You just startled me.” I pull the drain on the sink and shake the water off my hands, watching the water swirl down the drain, and trying to calm my heart rate down.

  “So can I take you somewhere?” he asks, but this time his tone is a little more cautious. His hands wring the towel over the sink and I have to take a couple steps back so he doesn’t touch me. If he notices this time, he doesn’t show it.

  “Where?”

  He shrugs and a hint of a smile teases his lips. “Just to campus. I want to show you something.”

  There’s a sparkle in his light brown eyes that I haven’t seen before and it intrigues me. Something about it makes me want to yes.

  “Is this about what Dr. Jamison said the other day?”

  He nods and sets the towel on the counter, folding it mindlessly. “I have a feeling you won’t trust anything I tell you, but I think it will help if I show you something.”

  Something inside me cringes at his words and my eyes narrow. Is it the thought of going somewhere with him that makes me nervous? Or is it the thought of not trusting him that I don’t like?

  I give him a funny look when he turns to me. “It’s the middle of campus, Amy. Just come with me.” One of his hands run through his hair and I watch the muscles in his forearm bend and curve with the movement, almost like they’re dancing … like his eyes right now.

  I can’t stop the smile that forms. “Okay,” and then blurt out, “you seem nicer today.”

  Heat instantly suffuses my cheeks as Adam laughs at me. His voice is low and I feel a pinch in my stomach at his deep, soft rumble. He shakes his head, but it’s not the same shake he does when he’s frustrated with me. “I’m trying to be more understanding about all of this. It’s hard for you, I know. You’ve lost the last two years of college - of your life - and I know you feel lost and confused and angry. But it’s hard for me too, to see you go through all of this and not trust me to help you.” He pauses and I follow his eyes that wander to the pictures on the wall.

  It’s a huge mural of photos of us. They’re all different sized, black and white pictures, with black frames. It looks like it catalogues our relationship, and some days when Adam’s at work, I stare at the photos, willing myself to remember something. Anything.

  But like always, I draw a complete blank.

  We’re silent for a few minutes, both of us staring at the photos, when he finally speaks. “I love you, and I just want to show you something. Please?”

  I turn my eyes to him but he’s still staring at the wall, no emotion on his face. He gives none of his thoughts away, and I go back to staring at the pictures too, wondering when any of them will make sense to me.

  We’re on a large, grassy area that is surrounded by a maze of sidewalks halfway between the main library on campus and the business building. A sense of calm has filled me ever since we arrived on campus. I may not remember anything for the last two years, but for the two years before I lost my memory, this place was my home. I practically lived in these two large buildings either studying at the library or in class at the business building.

  The air has a slight chill to it, so I graciously take Adam’s zip up sweatshirt when he offers it to me.

  I zip it up, lean against a tree, and smile at my surroundings while memories flash through my mind. As a freshman, Kelsey and I both went through Sorority Rush Week. It took me about two days to realize I didn’t want anything to do with that scene, but Kelsey loved it. I dropped out, while she finished and joined the Gamma Beta house. It was the first time in our friendship that I was worried we would drift apart. We haven’t, at least not that I’m aware of, but I remember being nervous that everything would change after she was immediately welcomed into the arms of forty new “sisters.”

  Attending Denver University was a huge issue with my parents. It wasn’t nearly as pretentious of a school as my parents wanted me to attend. They would have preferred I went somewhere out west – Stanford – mainly, but I dug my heels in, not wanting to leave Colorado, and chose the most prominent, private college in Denver. I would have preferred going to a simple state school, but after months of arguing during my junior year of high school, this was the only compromise they were willing to make.

  “What are you thinking about?” Adam asks, sitting down next to me. He’s close but there’s space between us and he looks uncomfortable. I wonder if it’s because there’s distance between us or if he’s worried about what I’m thinking.

  I shrug, looking out at the doors to library and squinting my eyes against the sun. “My parents. I was just thinking about how I had to argue with them to get them to allow me to come here.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a small smile appear on his lips.

  “Why does that make you happy?” I ask, turning to him. His smile drops, but I can tell he wants to say something. “You don’t like my parents, do you?”

  He runs his hands through his hair and I take him in. His cheeks and chin are scruffy and his bottom lip is fuller than his top. I watch as he sucks his top lip between his teeth, debating what to say.

  “Whether or not I like them doesn’t matter, Amy. They’re your parents.” He leans back, resting on the palm of his hands, and crosses his flip-flopped feet at the ankles.

  “But you don’t like them,” I say, urging him on. “I may not know much, Adam, but if I’m going to remember anything, I think I should be able to have honest conversations with you.”

  He watches me for a minute. His eyes don’t drift from mine, but it feels as if he’s evaluating me, seeing me in a way that no one else has ever seen me. “No, I don’t like them.” I watch him, patiently, and wait for him to continue. “I think that no matter what you do, they will always be disappointed in you, and it pisses me off. You’re intelligent and beautiful, kind and compassionate, but the only thing they care about is how you live up to their standards and what they want for you. They never stop to think about what you want and what will make you happy; only what will make them look good at the Country Club and in the press.”

  My mouth drops open a little bit, stunned at how well he has my parents nailed. He has just said everything I have thought since I turned fourteen and adamantly refused to go through another year of ballet.

  I take a minute to process what this means, that Adam knows my parents so well a
nd their opinions of me. The frustration I always feel when I talk to him begins to simmer inside me. All of the answers I get only lead to more questions.

  With my eyebrows knitted together, I pull away from his gaze and back to the library. “So why did you bring me here?”

  Adam scoots up, sitting cross-legged like me so we’re sitting next to each other. His knee brushes mine and I flinch, and then relax, feeling strange that I’m touching a stranger, but maybe too nervous to pull away and see the disappointment or anger in him. His hands are still behind him, propping him up as he looks out at the lawn and the library stairs.

  “This is where I saw you for the first time,” he finally says, his voice low and uncertain.

  If Adam notices my heartbeat pick up, beating a rhythmic drumming sound in my ears, he doesn’t mention it.

  He points a finger at the library stairs. “You were coming out of the doorway right there,” he starts, then drags his finger to the left side of the lawn. “I was over there, kicking the soccer ball around with some guys from the team during a break from our classes.” My eyes drift to the two places that aren’t very far apart from one another. “You skipped down the stairs, and then once you reached the bottom, you threw your arms and legs around some blonde guy and you laughed.”

  I push my eyebrows together and press my lips together. Tyler? That can’t be.

  “You laughed so loud and sounded so happy that I was distracted. When Zander kicked the ball to me, it hit me in the side of the head and bounced to the sidewalk, landing almost at your feet.”

  I gasp and turn to him. “That was you?” I remember everything he’s telling me. But that can’t be. From what I’ve been told, Adam and I didn’t start dating until October of my junior year. I dated Tyler my sophomore year. Tyler met me at the library after I was done studying for my Finance 250 final. He had just found out he passed his BioChem midterm. He had been so worried about finding out his grade, not wanting to ruin his straight ‘A’ average. I was so happy for him that when the ball landed at my feet, I kicked it as hard as I could, sailing the ball over some guy who was on his knees on the grass and to the group of guys behind him who were laughing their heads off.