Page 6 of Remember Me

Sitting down at the small table in the kitchen, I picked up my spoon and paused before I dipped it in the soup. I knew exactly how the soup would taste, knew that I liked to dip my sandwich in the soup.

I knew these things like most people knew the day of the week.

And yet, I didn’t know that. The day of the week, that is. Or the year, apparently.

I started eating, and a sense of well-being assailed me immediately. I guessed, from my impulse to make it and the feeling I had now as I ate it, that this was one of my comfort foods.

“Birdie? Gracious, child, what are you doing?” Light flooded the kitchen and I blinked up at Mom.

I remembered her — or at least, I remembered a version of her, slightly younger, slightly lighter. She hadn’t changed much. Still wore perfectly awful stretch pants and humongous tee shirts. Still had her hair slicked back in a bun at the nape of her neck. She wasn’t an unattractive woman, but she’d stopped trying to be pretty around the time Dad had killed himself. Her method of punishing herself, I supposed.

I tried to swallow the reflexive irritation that rose within me. All of that had happened years ago. I had probably long since moved on, so it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us to bring it up now. I had struggled, though, with the fact that neither Mom nor Dad had chosen me over their own personal issues and tragedies. Mom had chosen her wants, uncaring or unthinking about what such a choice might do to her family. To her daughter. Dad had chosen to end his life, rather than making the decision to stay with me. Love me.

Regardless of whether or not I’d moved on, it hurt now to think about it. I took another bite and chewed, unspeaking.

“Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

I swallowed the bite of sandwich I’d just taken and wipe my fingers on a paper towel. “I had a light on.” It was true. I’d turned the light over the sink on, but for some reason I hadn’t wanted a brighter light.

“It’s ten at night,” she said, eyeing the meal in front of me. “You’re going to have heartburn when you go to bed.”

I jerked my shoulder in a shrug. “I’ll be fine.”

Heartburn.

Just one more cow pie in a whole meadow of crap I’d be dealing with for the foreseeable future. My stomach lurched as I remembered Dr. Chen’s visit the morning following his diagnosis.

It had been early, but I was already awake. The hospital was an impossible place to sleep, with nurses in and out all night to prick or prod at me. The latest had just bustled in and out for shift change protocols, rousing Hayes from an uncomfortable-looking slump in the chair as she greeted me cheerfully.

“I’m so glad to see you doing so well, Birdie,” she murmured. “Ghost has been on me endlessly to give him a good report.”

“Ghost?” I thought I had misheard.

“Ghost stopped at the accident,” Hayes said, rising to stand and stretch. “He helped us, called EMS.” He’d looked at the nurse. “You’re with him?”

“I am. And so glad that he happened to be on that road that evening.”

“Please tell him how grateful I am. I think I was a mess that night; I can’t remember if I told him.” He’d leaned over to place a chaste kiss on my forehead. “Morning, Mini.”

I’d stared after him as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Did he only ever call me by names deprecating my height? I knew that at five feet one inch and five-eighths I was vertically challenged. I didn’t need the continual reminder.

The doctor entered. “How’s the patient this morning?” he asked in a voice too cheerful pre-coffee.

“Coffee.” I latched on to the idea. I liked coffee — more, I needed it to be social. “May I have a cup?”

“Of course. I believe breakfast is on the way. And that’s something we need to talk about, anyway. You’ll need to limit that caffeine intake for a while, in light of your bloodwork.” He watched me closely, trying, I guessed, to ascertain my understanding.

“Is caffeine bad for amnesiacs?”

He sighed. “Only when they’re pregnant.”

I laughed. “Sorry, I thought you said I was…” When his expression didn’t change my laughter trailed away. The room grew dark around the edges and I sucked in a sharp breath. “What?”

Another sigh. “I’m not sure, of course, whether this was something you knew prior to the accident, or if you’re just finding out now for the first time. Either way, I understand it’s a shock. I took the liberty of contacting our women’s health offices here in town to see if you had any appointments scheduled, and you didn’t, so I’m guessing this is brand new news. We’ve gone ahead and gotten you set up for your preliminary visit.”

“I d-don’t understand.” My fingers were at my temples, as if I could pull the memories loose with the contact. A baby?

“Pregnant?” Hayes’s voice came from behind the doctor. His eyes were wide with shock.Welcome to the club, TD and H.

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