Page 22 of Last Summer

“What’s his deal?” Andrew asks.

Davie shoots him a dirty look. “He just lost a baby. Give him a break. He’s having a hard time.”

“Crap.” Andrew cups his hands over his mouth and nose. “My bad,” he says into his hands. His gaze darts to Ella. “I wasn’t thinking. And come on, he was picking on me first.”

“Oh, my god, seriously? How old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

“That was a rhetorical question, you dimwit.” Ella gives him a playful punch in the shoulder. She’s quiet for a moment, then says, “It’s not you. He’s upset I can’t remember Simon.”

“Sure he is. But obviously you’d remember if you could. And it’s going to come back, it just takes time,” Davie says. She comes over and bends down to wrap Ella in a hug.

Davie’s sweet perfume and warm skin comfort Ella and she feels her tears coming on. “I should go see how he’s doing.”

Davie rubs her back. “No, you should cry. Come with me.” Davie straightens and holds out her hand. “Excuse us, Andrew.”

Andrew gets up from the table. “I’ll go find him and apologize, I guess.”

Ella follows Davie down the hall to her office, right next to Damien’s. She can hear Andrew’s and Damien’s muffled voices through the wall and wonders what they’re talking about. Her brother isn’t exactly famous for his apologies.

“I’m okay,” she tells Davie after she closes the door. She plucks a tissue from the box on her desk, dabs her eyes, and wipes her nose. “I think Damien thinks I’m lying.”

“About what?” Davie asks, sinking into the chair across from Ella’s desk.

“My selective memory loss.”

“He does? Did he say something?”

“Not really. It’s more a feeling than anything.”

“Forget a moment about what you think and what you think he thinks.” She waves her hands in front of her, confused. “Why would you fake something like this? There’s no point.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You guys will figure it out and deal when you’re ready. The memories will come back. Give it time.” Davie folds her legs under herself. “You know, I visited you in the hospital.”

“When?” Ella asks, sitting on the edge of her desk.

“Umm. Let’s see. Five days ago.”

“How was I?”

“Miserable. So was Damien. You were both in shock.”

“Makes sense.” Ella looks at her bare toes, the pink polish chipped and dull.

“Your pregnancy wasn’t planned,” Davie says softly.

“What?”

“I wasn’t sure how much you remember. I thought you’d want to know.”

Ella’s heart races. “Damiendidwant Simon, right?”

“Yes, he was ecstatic.”

“Good.” Ella sighs, relieved.

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