Chapter 39

Nick drops Eva off first. Brian says, “Will you be ok? Want me to keep you company?”

She says, “No, I want to be alone. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride.”

Before anyone can say anything, she gets out. Brian watches her go into her house and he knows the walls are firmly back in place. Probably re-enforced now. Once again, she’s shut him out.

As he pulls away, Nick says, “What’s going on with her Brian? I thought you two were really hitting it off.”

Brian says, “I thought so too. She had let her guard down a little with me.”

AJ says, “What do you mean?”

Brian says, “Well, she was opening up to me about her past. She feels like if she lets anyone get close, they’ll die. She had a childhood friend that had leukemia and died when she was just a kid. Then her parents when she was a teenager. She basically thinks she’s a jinx.”

Nick says, “Does she really feel that way? That all that happened because of her?”

“She does,” Brian says. “She thinks if she lets me get close to her, I’ll be next.”

AJ whistles and says, “That kind of thinking can really mess with your head. That sucks.”

Nick says, “And Elaine’s accident just made things worse, huh?”

Brian says, “Yeah. The walls are back in place. I just hope I have the strength to knock them down again.”

At Eva’s

Eva goes into her house, wrestling with her thoughts. As if on auto pilot, she makes herself a sandwich and grabs a drink. She eats, barely tasting anything.

Walking through her house, she finds herself in her bedroom, kneeling on the floor by the chest at the foot of her bed. Lifting the lid, she stares at the remnants of her childhood. The things she just couldn’t throw away.

On top, the quilt her grandmother had made for her when she was just a baby. Elaine has one just like it. Pushing it gently aside, she uncovers what she used to call her treasures. A baby doll, a pair of ballet slippers she only wore once. Ballet just didn’t work for her. Then she sees her favorite childhood book. Charlotte’s Web. She smiles remembering how she wouldn’t let anyone kill a spider after she read that book, convinced all the spiders were Charlotte’s babies.

Pushing it all aside, she sees the two brown bags hidden in the corner. She takes them out and stares at them. They haven’t been opened since the day she sealed them sixteen years ago.

Opening the first bag, tears spring to her eyes as she breathes in the fragrance that floats out. Gently, she takes her mother’s bathrobe from the bag. Burying her face in it, she begins to sob.

When she catches her breath, she opens the other bag and takes her father’s robe out. Wrapping it around herself, she hugs her mother’s close to her chest and curls up in a ball on her bed to cry. She cries like she’s never cried before. Her body is aches as her sobs finally subside and she whispers, “I miss you both so much!”

At the hospital

I’ve just had my first session with the therapist. He seems to think my memories will come back fairly quickly since I’m already having flashes. He believes the key to unlocking my memories is Nick, since Nick triggered the first ones. Even though I think it would help, I hesitate to call him. The feelings I had when he was here were beyond powerful. I don’t know him, don’t remember or what we had together, and yet a HUGE part of me wanted to beg him to just hold me.

The nurse comes back in to check on me. As she fluffs my pillows and checks the circulation in my fingers and toes, she says, “Do you think your handsome boyfriend will come back tonight?” At my blush, she says, “You’re very lucky. It’s obvious he only has eyes for you.”

I look at her and say, “Is it ok if I ask him to come back and stay tonight? Dr. Simmons seems to think he’s the key to unlocking my memory.”

Smiling at me, she says, “Yeah, if he wants to, I can arrange it. It will do us work-a-holics some good to have some eye candy here tonight. Trust me, you’ll get the best damn care in the whole hospital with him sleeping in your room.”

I giggle and say, “It is pretty easy to look at him, isn’t it?”

She laughs and says, “It’s easy to look at him and his two friends.”

I’m still laughing as she leaves the room. Picking up my phone, I stare at it. How do I ask him to come here and stay? I know he’ll say yes, but will that help me? Or drive me even more insane? Only one way to find out.

I dial his number and wait for him to answer. On the third ring, I hear a groggy “Hello?”

I say, “Umm, hi, it’s me.”

Nick says, “Hey, it’s you. How are you feeling? Everything ok?”

I say, “Yeah, it’s fine. I just had my first session with the therapist.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks. “And?”

I take a deep breath and say, “And he thinks my memory will probably come back quickly since I’ve already had flashes.”

“Did you have anymore?” he asks me.

I say, “No, not really. Just the same as before.”

When I don’t say anything else, he says, “Elaine, are you ok? What’s wrong?”

I sigh and say, “Nothing really. It was just something Dr. Simmons said. He thinks that you may, umm, may be able to help me remember faster.”

Nick says, “Really? How?”

I say, “Just talk to me. Spend time with me. I was wondering, well,” I trail off and lose my nerve. Finally I say, “Never mind, it’s nothing.”

Nick says, “Come on Elaine, what? Do you want me to come now and stay with you a while?”

“I don’t want to burden you with this, Nick,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.”

He says, “Elaine, listen to me. If spending time with you helps, I am more than happy to do it. I’ll come right now. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

I sigh, then say, “I don’t know. I wanted to ask you if maybe you could stay here tonight? I’m not really sleeping well here. I’m scared,” I finish almost whispering.

He says, “Sweetheart, don’t be scared. I’ll grab a shower and be there in about an hour. Will you be ok till I get there?”

I say, “I’ll be fine.”

He says, “Can I bring you anything?”

I think about 30 seconds and say, “Chocolate.”

He laughs and says, “Got it Babe. I’ll see you in an hour.”

I say, “Thanks, Nick.”

He says, “Anything for you Babe. See you soon. Love you.”

He hangs up before I can reply. I pull up the picture of us again and stare at it. I want to remember this. I want to remember what his love felt like. I feel incomplete not knowing.