Page 67 of One Foggy Christmas
“You’re definitely a curve ball I wasn’t expecting.”
The corner of my mouth rises with an edge of playful charm. “But if you’re patient and sit back on a curve ball, it could be a home run.”
“Or a swing and miss.”
“We’re not a miss, I promise.”
Sadie stares at me, unconvinced, and all I want to do is show her how great we are together. I want to shove a million pictures of us into her hands, play our wedding video on every TV, or pull her into my arms and kiss her neck and lips the slow, sensual way that drives her crazy. But I can’t. So I say instead, “You know, we met at a baseball game.”
“I thought you were my boss.”
“I was. But the Saturday before your first day at work, I hit on you at a Cubs game.”
Her brows draw inward as she tries to make sense of it all. If Dr. Hatchet were here, she’d tell me that overwhelming Sadie with facts about our life is a bad idea. She’d tell me to give her time to put the pieces together herself when she’s ready.
I’m failing miserably at that.
“Listen, I’m kind of tired.” She rubs her hands down her face. “Could we do the whole house-tour thing later?”
“Sure. I’ll show you to our room so you can get some rest.”
Disappointment falls through me, but I hide it. I wore her out with too much information. Things would be so much easier if Sadie were as eager as I am to fill in the gaps, but I have to keep reminding myself this is going to be alongrecovery process. She sets the pace, and I follow along for the ride.
There’s nothing fast or easy about rediscovering three and a half years of your life that you lost.
SADIE
This AirBnB—whichis really my house—has amazing Egyptian cotton sheets, excellent-smelling body wash and shampoo, and the loveliest view of the Chicago skyline. While I’m more comfortable here than in the hospital, it doesn’tfeellike home. Just a VRBO I’m a guest at.
Shouldn’t I feel like more than a guest?
There are glimpses of me. I can confidently admit that I did live here just based on the handwritten notes stuck to my bathroom mirror, the endless supply of Chapstick in my nightstand drawer, my Syracuse University sweats that have withstood the closet cleanouts, and the copies of my favorite books lined up on the shelf. And if we remodeled this place ourselves, I’m ashamed to say I’m the one to blame for the two showerheads in the walk-in shower. I’ve always thought something like that would be romantic. But the reality of showering with Nash makes me want to cover my face in embarrassment.
The proof of life should be comforting, but instead, it depresses me, adding more unknowns to my plate.
After a long, hot shower, I walk around the room, taking in hints and clues about our life together. Framed above our bed is a brown note with a scribbled message across it. I climb on the mattress to get a better look at what it says.
Bro, I’d love to take out your sister. If she’s lying about having a boyfriend and you don’t think I’m crazy, please give her my number.
This is obviously something special between me and Nash to be the focal point behind our bed, but it means nothing to me. My head shakes as I drop down to my butt, leaning my back against the headboard. I’ll have to ask Tate about it when I get to Skaneateles. I assume the note was written to him since it saidsister.I could see Tate loving a bold move like that from Nash just to get my attention.
But even as small pieces fit together, this life still feels like a dream with no chance of waking up in sight. I stare aimlessly ahead when Nash knocks on the door.
“Come in.” It is his bedroom, after all.
His light hair is the first thing I see, followed by a timid smile. “I heard footsteps and the shower, so I figured you were awake now.”
“It’s a great shower.” I nod toward the bathroom.
“Right?” He takes a small step inside the room. “We went back and forth on where to position the double shower heads, but in the end, you were right as usual.”
“I figured the double heads were my idea. I’ve always wanted something like that.”
His expression pulls to something playful. “Even more so after you married me.”
I laugh as I crawl to the edge of the bed, purposely avoiding eye contact in hopes he doesn’t see my blush.
“Are you finding everything you need?”
