Forgetting the Past
Chapter Three: Accusations and Assumptions
Claire
I was so excited when Ava called and wanted to meet me for tea. I suggested meeting at the Magnolia Tea Room over on Mint Grove Lane. It’s a quaint tea and sandwich shop that we often frequented together. I offered to pick her up, but she insisted on driving.
When I arrive, I get us a table for two that overlooks the flower garden. In my opinion, it’s the best table in the shop. I order mint tea for myself and wait for Ava to come so she can order her own flavor. Before the accident she would also have the mint tea, but these days, it’s hard to tell what her preference is.
I miss my daughter and can’t wait to see her. Since the accident she’s different. Without any memory of who she was, she’s trying to find the new her. It must be difficult, but if she ever asks, I would help her anyway I could. She struggles with calling me Mom, and I’m okay with that. She can call me Claire for the rest of my life as long as she’s here with me.
When she pulls into the parking space, I watch my beautiful daughter, who is dressed in a floral pink and white dress. She looks like my daughter, but she doesn’t completely act like her. The old Ava before her marriage would have exited the car smiling and searching for me through the windows until she saw me sitting here. This Ava doesn’t search for me through the windows. I watch and wait for her to join me.
“I’m late. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
“It’s fine, I just got here.” She doesn’t kiss me, but she takes the only seat immediately across from me. She orders a mint tea and I say, “What are you up to today?”
“I went to see Doctor Adams, then I went to the cemetery.”
I try to hide my concern. “Did you take the Maple Hill scenic drive or Oak Marsh?”
I watch Ava and she looks sad. “I know about the accident, Mom. I took the scenic route today.”
“How do you know?”
“Skylar and I took Oak Marsh yesterday.”
The waitress comes over and we order the hot tea lunch special. Finger sandwiches and crumpets. Ava loved to have tea parties when she was a child. It’s what started her on her porcelain teacup collection. This was Ava’s and my favorite place to come before her marriage.
When the waitress leaves, Ava continues, “I saw the cross and then I got a cold chill, that’s when I knew.”
“I should have told you.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I needed to see the accident site sooner or later.”
“Is that why you went to see Doctor Adams?”
She tells me about her dreams and about the memory, and then she shows me the pictures. “There are very few people I can ask, but I need to know. Was Connor abusive towards me, or are these dreams just that, dreams?” When I don’t say anything, she says, “These pictures don’t lie.”
I take the pictures and hold them up with shaky hands to get a better view. My beautiful daughter on her wedding day was probably the last time I saw her truly happy. The next picture she looked sad, and in the last picture I hadn’t seen her in months prior to it being taken.
“Oh, Ava, I wish I knew. Sometimes when we would have plans, you would cancel at the last minute. Your dad and I would call you, and you would always have an excuse for why you couldn’t see us.”
“When you did see me, did I have bruises on me?”
“No, you never did.” I think for a minute. “Sometimes, you would have long sleeves on in the summer.” Was my daughter abused, and I had no idea? Wouldn’t I know if she was?
She sighs. The waitress brings us our food and leaves. “It seems like you and I had a great relationship. Did we?”
“We did. We were best friends until….”
“Until what?”
I look away. “Everything changed after the wedding. I didn’t see you as often. You didn’t call, and you always had other plans with Connor and his family.” I look at Ava and wipe away a tear. “I figured since you got married, that his family had adopted you into their family, so to speak.”
“I’m sorry. I can tell this hurt you.”
“It all right. I just wanted my daughter to be happy.”
We finish our tea and crumpets and she says, “Let’s talk about something else.” She looks around at the beautiful tea room. “I really like this place.”
Smiling, I say, “I know you do.”
“I think you, Skylar, and I should open up a tea room one day.”
“I thought you wanted to open a bed and breakfast.”
She laughs. “I do. We can do both.”
“Where would you put the teahouse? Inside of your bed and breakfast and make it a tea room?”
She thinks for a moment and says, “Outside might be better. I read recently about a Taoist master who ran a moving ‘tea room.’ He would simply find a beautiful outdoors spot by beautifully scented flowers and start making tea, serving anyone who wanted some and accepting whatever amount of money they paid him, including nothing. This sign announced his prices: ‘The price of tea is however much you give me, from a hundred pounds of gold to a penny. You can even drink for free, if they like, but I can’t give you a better bargain than that.’
“But we’re American capitalists, so we could do your idea of having a tea room inside the bed and breakfast — with previously set prices. We could have an afternoon tea or tea at high noon. It’ll take all three of us to run and operate it.”
I’m so glad to see the spark return in my daughter’s eyes. It’s been a long time. “And what would we call it?”
She looks outside at the beautiful flower garden. “Oh, I got it.”
I laugh loudly. “That was fast.”
“We could call the bed and breakfast ‘The Rose Garden Inn,’ and we could call the tea room ‘Rose Petals’ or ‘Rose Buds.’“
“Ava,” I say, “those are lovely names.”
“Thank you. I think so.”
I look at the clock and say, “I need to get home. Your father will be there shortly, and we have a dinner date.”
“Is he good to you?” she asks.
“He is, I have a good life.”
“Are you happy?”
I ask, “Aren’t these things a mother should be asking her daughter?”
“Yes, I’m happy. Now answer the question.”
How do I answer that? I am happy, but this has been a trying year for all of us. “Things are different as you get older. The giddiness isn’t there. It’s been replaced with issues and problems of everyday life.”
I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t.
She quickly picks up the check.
I say, “I’ll get that.”
“No, I want to. Thank you for meeting me. I had a good time.”
“I’ll always meet you anytime you want. Just call me.”
We stand and she says, “I had a great childhood, didn’t I?”
Removing my purse from the back of the chair, I say, “You did. Your father made sure of it.”
“He did?”
“He did. When you were a little girl, you gave him a handmade Father’s Day card in which you wrote, ‘I am having a happy childhood.’ He can seem — and sometimes be — stern and strict, especially to those who don’t know him well, but he’s a good man.”
Ava
I kiss and hug Mom before she leaves. I had a great visit with her, and I know that she was a wonderful mother. I don’t need to remember that; I can sense it.
On the way home, I decide to build my relationship with my mother and with my father. Without a memory, I went into this with barriers and walls. It’s hard to know who and what to trust or believe. Claire loves me and I want more of her in my life. She may not hold the answers to my questions about the last two years, but I trust her to help me to get back to the person I once was.
When I get home, I change into yoga pants and a T-shirt, and go b
ack into my closet. I want to search through some more pictures and the boxes of mementos. The answers to my past are in this house, and I swear I’m going to find them.
The boxes and photo albums are sorted according to years. I find a lot from my earlier years prior to my marriage of friends and family members. There are several happy photos of me and Marshall. He loved me, I can see it. Sadly, there are very few items after my marriage. A few pictures of Connor and me, and a few pictures of our family, but no pictures of the friends we once had. As the years move on, I become thinner, and I don’t look as happy as the earlier years. Connor, on the other hand, looks the same. He’s tall with dark, tamed, curly hair. He’s very serious and distinguished looking.
Just as I hold up an earlier photo and a later photo for comparison, the house burglar alarm sounds. I jump up, and the photos on my lap scatter across the carpeted closet floor. The phone rings. I run to the landline phone to answer it. “Hello, Ava speaking.”
“Mrs. Emerson?”
“Yes.”
“This is Guardian Protection Services. We just received an alarm at your home address. Is everything all right?”
“I think so. I’m not sure how to disarm the alarm.”
“Stay inside the house, the police are en route to check it out, and I’ll disarm it from here.”
“Okay, great. Thank you. The security code to the gate is….”
“We already have it, ma’am. They’ll be there shortly.”
I want to go downstairs, but I’m afraid to, so I sit on my bed and wait. It’s just after midnight and in my opinion, it’s too early for someone to be robbing a house. Don’t those things happen in the early morning hours? When I see headlights coming down the cul-de-sac road, I go downstairs.
One officer comes inside the house, while the others look for signs of a break-in outside. While waiting and as my anxiety level continues to climb, I call Skylar to see if I can stay with her. I would have called Mom, but she and Marshall had plans. We arrange for me to drive to her house once the police leave.
The police tell me that other than finding a man’s shoeprints in the bushes, they didn’t find anything. Nothing seems to be tampered with. Before they leave, Skylar pulls in and demands answers. I thought I was meeting her at her house, but I guess she had other plans. The police walk her outside and show her the shoeprints while I pack an overnight bag.
On the drive to her house, she says, “Who would be snooping around in your bushes?”
I look at her and I want to laugh. If I weren’t so scared, maybe I would be laughing. “Since I have no memory, it’s really hard for me to tell.” A smile forms instead.
“Always a smart ass,” she teases.
“Maybe it was the gardener’s shoeprints?” I say seriously. “He was trimming the bushes the other day.”
“Then what set off the alarm?” she asks.
“That, I don’t know. The wind?”
“No, someone was there. I don’t like you living in that big house alone.”
She pulls into her driveway and I say, “Well, I’m not getting a roommate.”
“Oh, I don’t blame you. Too many crazies out there for that. I was thinking maybe you should sell it. You know, buy something smaller.”
I’ve been seriously thinking about buying a bed and breakfast, but I’m not sure I should mention it to her just yet. She already thinks there are too many crazies out there, so she wouldn’t like the idea of me opening a home to strangers. Maybe I should tell her just to see her expression. Nah, I’ll save it for a time where I can enjoy the look on her face. “That might be a good idea. It’s not like this house holds any special memories or anything.”
We wait for the garage door to close before we get out of the car. “It must really be hard for you to not have any memories at all.”
“I think I might be getting used to it. I’m making new memories, and I like that. It’s always awkward when I see someone who knows me. They expect me to know and remember them. It was awkward with Mom at first, but not anymore. I can sense the love she has for me.”
“And Marshall?”
“Marshall loves me. I saw proof of that tonight when I was looking over old photos.”
She laughs. “He does love you. When you were growing up, he was more carefree than he is now.”
“I don’t understand why he banned you and Chase from visiting me in the hospital though.”
“Me either, you should ask him.”
We dress for bed and lie on the sectional sofa, eating popcorn and binge watching The Walking Dead on Netflix. We laugh a lot and it feels good. To us, the zombies are funny. We watch the show for Rick, the star.
The next day she gets called into work for a few hours. I want to go home, but she insisted I stay here and wait for her. While she’s gone, I walk around her house and admire all of her photos on the stands and hanging on the walls. She has so many pictures of us. Framed silly pictures and some serious photos of us at my wedding. It saddens me that I’ve never seen these before. The house phone rings, and I debate answering it, so I just let it ring. This isn’t my house and I have no right answering it. I listen quietly as the answering machine picks it up. “Sky, it’s Chase. Pick up.” There’s a long pause. “You must be out running errands. You’re not going to believe this. I saw Marshall having dinner with Lorraine from my office. I’m coming over.”
Chase
After leaving a message on Skylar’s answering machine, I try to reach her again on her cell phone. It goes right to voicemail. I know she has the day off; maybe she’s with Ava. It’s been a couple of days since I saw Marshall and Lorraine together, and I pondered about even saying anything to anyone. Normally, things like this don’t bother me. You want to have an affair, go ahead. But this is different. This is Ava’s family we’re talking about. I think I’ll feel better once I talk to Skylar about this. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. I hope it is.
I pull up to Skylar’s house and I about fall over when Ava answers the door.
“Hey,” I say changing my tone and my surprised expression. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Is Skylar home?”
“Come on in,” she says, holding the door open for me. “No, Skylar went to work for a few hours.” How long has she been here? Did she hear my message I left earlier about Marshall? “Do you want some water or a soda or something?”
She isn’t acting any differently. “Sure. Water would be great.” Following her into the kitchen, I say, “What are you doing here?”
“The burglar alarm went off at my house last night, and Skylar wanted me to stay here with her.”
Shit! She’s been here since last night. “Is everything okay at your place?” She must have heard my message. She hands me a bottle of water.
“Nothing was tampered with. The police did find some shoeprints in the bushes.”
“Are they suspecting a peeping Tom?”
“Who knows? I personally think the shoeprints were left by the gardener.” She opens her water and takes a drink. “What brings you here today?”
I think this is a trick question. I don’t want to lie to Ava. Her amnesia is more than enough for one person to deal with. I also don’t want to burden her with something I’m not sure about. “Did you hear my message I left earlier on the answering machine?”
“I did. So you think my dad’s cheating on my mom?”
“Whoa, I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.” She walks back into the family room and sits on the over-stuffed chair.
“No, Ava. I don’t think that.”
“Then why would you call Skylar?”
“To see what her thoughts were.” Ava raises her eyebrow and tilts her head slightly to the right. She may have amnesia, but she still has the same mannerisms as the old Ava. “Okay, maybe cheating might have crossed my mind.” Ava looks sad. “It could have been just a friendly dinner between
friends.”
“Were they alone?”
“No, she had her son with her.”
“Good, maybe you’re right. Maybe it was just a friendly dinner.” Yeah, maybe it was. I’m sure that’s all it was. “How old is her son?”
“Maybe six months, eight months at the most.”
“What?” She sits up in the chair. “She’s around my age? My dad was having dinner with a woman my age?”
Just as I’m about to say something, Skylar comes in through the garage. “Who’s your dad having dinner with?”
I stand so I can greet Skylar. “Hey,” I say when she walks around the corner.
She looks at me and then she looks at Ava. “Hey.”
“My dad was having dinner with a woman and her young son.”
“What!”
Skylar sits down and I explain this whole mess. “It might not be anything to worry about.” I don’t tell them about him talking to her at the office earlier the same day. This is something I’ll keep to myself. Neither of them knows who Lorraine is. I won’t tell them she’s some tall, voluptuous, blonde bombshell whom I work with.
“But why would my dad be having dinner with her?”
“I don’t know. She and Connor were close. Maybe it has something to do with that.” I add.
Ava asks, “How close?”
“She was his paralegal.”
She nods her understanding. “I’m going to call Mom and see what she’s doing.”
“Ava, I wouldn’t….”
“Don’t worry, Skylar. I’m not going to say anything.”
As soon as she leaves the room, Skylar furrows her brow. “Why would you say anything to her about her dad and Lorraine?”
“I didn’t. I called and left a message on your voicemail. How was I supposed to know she was here?”
Ava yells from the other room, “I can hear you.”
Skylar laughs, “Okay, jeesh. We’ll wait for you.”
I don’t say anything; I’m afraid to. I remain quiet, and I remain standing until Ava walks back into the room. The expression on her face is unreadable. Skylar takes a step forward. “What is it?” I say.
“You won’t believe this.”
“Believe what?” Please tell me I’m wrong. Please tell me he’s not having an affair with Lorraine.
“I called Mom and she said Dad’s working late tonight. She said this is the third night in a row that’s he’s been working late.” My eyes follow her as she walks back to the over-sized chair and slumps into it. “I think that bastard is cheating on my mom.”
“Just because he said he’s working late, that doesn’t mean that he’s seeing someone.” I nod to the couch so Skylar will sit down. Following her to the couch, I add, “Don’t be so quick to assume something.”
“Does this mean I shouldn’t find him and accuse him of cheating on my mom?”
I cough. “That is exactly what it means.”
“Ava, call him and ask him to meet you for dinner.”
“And if he accepts, then what?”
Skylar and I think for a minute, before I get an idea. “If he accepts, use your amnesia to get some answers from him.”
At first they both look confused, and then Ava’s face lights up. “Oh, I get it.”
“Start with the things you already know are the truth, and then trip him up.”
Skylar says, “Oh, you mean like the dreams. Not sure what’s fact or fiction?”
“Exactly.”
Ava stands with her cell phone in hand. “I sure hope he answers.”
“Me, too,” Skylar says.
“If that doesn’t work, then you should just ask him what’s going on,” I say.
I wait for Ava, the entire time feeling responsible for all of this. I wish I had kept this to myself. Skylar also remains quiet. At first I’m hopeful that Marshall will answer, and then I hear Ava leaving her dad a message in his voicemail. “Tell Ava I’ll be back.”
I head for the door and Skylar calls out, “Where are you going?”
“I have something to do, I’ll be back.”
Claire
Marshall’s gone again tonight. It’s the third night in a row he hasn’t been home. I suspected it would happen again tonight, so I didn’t plan anything for dinner. It has something to do with Connor and maybe Ava, but I’m not sure exactly how. He won’t tell me until he has proof of whatever he’s looking for. He’s a great husband and a wonderful father. It seems like everything in our life changed when Ava got married. We didn’t see her as much as we wanted to, and Marshall felt guilty for the accident, and for Connor’s death. I don’t know why. He didn’t have anything to do with it.
Marshall calls me before I make some hot tea and head up to Ava’s old bedroom. I spend a lot of time in this room. Even before her accident, I used to come up here and reminisce about when she was younger. We were so close back then. We were close up until her wedding day. Everything changed after that. I secretly blamed Connor for that. I had no evidence he was keeping Ava from me, but she was different after the marriage. Just like the photos she showed me, she grew thin and depressed. I feel bad that I hadn’t realized it. Ava is right, the pictures don’t lie.
I have no idea what Connor did to her, if anything. I tried to maintain a relationship with her, but it was hard. She kept backing out of luncheons and shopping trips. On the day of the accident, her second wedding anniversary, we planned to meet up so she could go dress shopping. She canceled on me then, too. She said she had to take care of something, but she wouldn’t tell me what. I spoke to Doctor Adams after her accident and after she awoke from her coma. He said to not rush trying to get her memory to return. He also said to be careful what you tell her. I have been careful, but I think that from now on I’ll tell her things, even if they are my own suspicions. She’s stronger than she was, and she’s starting to remember some things. I’ll just be careful about how I word things.
Lying on her full-size bed, I cry. I miss my Ava. Her relationship with Connor was probably my fault. I should have demanded to see her. We were always close, I knew something was wrong. Marshall and I talked about it, but we should have done something. He blames himself for not doing something; for not doing what a father should have done to see his daughter. What? Barge into their home and forcefully remove her from it because we assumed she was unhappy? When we did talk on the phone, it was brief. I couldn’t detect she was unhappy in that short amount of time.
Today at lunch Ava said she wanted to open a bed and breakfast with a teahouse. What a wonderful idea. If only that could happen for her. She’s dreamed of doing that since she was in high school. Other girls her age wanted to be nurses, counselors, doctors, and teachers. Not Ava, she wanted to be an innkeeper.
As I move to sit on the floor, I reach under the bed and pull out the stack of dusty books that have been stored there since her college years. There are several books on how to run your own business, and on what makes a bed and breakfast successful. Opening the books, I’m not surprised to see she has written in them. Ava was always one to make a list, or to circle and highlight important things. Some of the items mentioned in the books are even marked with a red pen. Under the bed there is even a notebook where she wrote important notes, food recipes, and websites for purchasing items in bulk.
I smile. I had no idea how much research she did on this. The front door opens, and I think it’s Marshall home from work.
“Mom,” Ava yells.
“Up here, Honey.”
I try to brush the dust off of my clothes and straighten my hair before she sees me. I must look a mess. I hear more than one set of footsteps walking up the stairs.
“What are you doing up here?” Ava asks.
Skylar and Ava walk into the bedroom. “Hi, Skylar,” I say.
She smiles. “Hey.” Skylar stands in the doorway, holding a large pizza box.
“Well,
Ava, if you must know, I was feeling a bit sorry for myself.”
“Oh, Mom. I’m sorry. You should have called me. I would have come right over.”
“It’s okay. I’m feeling much better now.”
Ava jumps on her bed, and the pillows and stuffed animals bounce off, landing on the floor. “Good, we brought pizza.”
“Good, I’m starving.”
I start to stand and Ava says, “No, stay there. We’ll eat up here. I want to see what you’re looking at.”
I scoot over so Skylar can put the pizza box on the floor in front of us. Ava moves to the foot of the bed and Skylar smiles and says, “Just like old times.”
Ava asks, “What is?”
“This.” Skylar looks at me and says, “Eating pizza with your mom on the floor in your bedroom.”
“We did do this pretty often. Skylar would spend Friday nights here, and we would order pizza on the nights your dad would work late.”
“Did he always work late?”
“He’s always been a hard worker, and he always wanted to provide for his family and to give his favorite daughter everything she ever wanted.”
“He did love his little Ava,” Skylar teases.
I say, “One weekend he took you and three of your friends to the butterfly garden in Gainesville while I went shopping with some friends.”
I watch as Ava tries to remember. “Did I have pigtails?” Ava asked with her brows furrowed.
Before I can say anything, Skylar hands Ava a piece of pizza and says, “Not unless you wore pigtails in middle school.”
Ava laughs. “Ugh, I’ll never get this thing working.” She points to her head.
“You will in due time.” I take a bite of my pizza.
“In due time?” she repeats. “Now that sounds familiar.”
Skylar watches me, and I look away from Skylar to see Ava. “You remember that saying?”
“I had a flash of a memory. At least I think it was a memory. They come and go so quickly. I just remember someone saying it. I wish it would come to me. Someone said it, but I don’t know who. There isn’t a face or a voice, but it just seems familiar.”
I frown. I want my daughter to remember. “It’ll come.”
“Yeah, I know. In due time.”
We all laugh. Ava sits on the floor with Skylar and me. Once the pizza is gone, we go through the books and the notebooks that are sprawled all over the carpeted bedroom floor. She gets in her desk for a pen, and writes down the new name for her bed and breakfast. The Rose Garden Inn for the bed and breakfast, and Rose Petals or Rose Buds for the teahouse. “These are great names,” Skylar says.
“Thanks. I came up with them when Mom and I went to the teahouse.”
“Ava, it’s time you stop dreaming about the bed and breakfast. You need to make it a reality.”
Skylar interrupts and says, “I agree. It’s time we stop dreaming about it, and we make it happen.”
I have no idea if Skylar is serious or not, but I would feel better if someone I knew was with Ava as she moves on to the next phase of her life. “That is a great idea.”
“Mom? Really? This is just a childhood dream, a fantasy even. Where would we open one?”
“Well, gee, Ava. Let me see.” Skylar reaches over her and grabs one of the books on the floor. We giggle as she searches the book for a location. “According to this location guide, Vermont is a great location for a bed and breakfast.”
“Too far,” I say.
Skylar laughs and raises a brow. “I guess Martha’s Vineyard ….”
“Yep, that’s too far, too.”
“Mmm, let me see, Asheville, North Carolina; Washington, D.C.; Barcelona, Spain; Newport, Rhode Island; Savannah, Georgia….”
“That’s it,” I say.
“Which one?” I tease. “Barcelona?”
“No, Savannah. It’s closer than the other places you listed, and it’s a beautiful area.”
“Um, excuse me.” Ava laughs. “I don’t think I should be opening or running a business in my condition. Have you forgotten that I can’t remember anything?”
“No, Ava, we haven’t forgotten. That’s why Skylar is going to help you.”
“Mom, Skylar works; she can’t just up and move.”
“Speak for yourself. I’ll call in my two-weeks’ notice right now, if you want.”
We all decide to wait before Skylar calls in and resigns from her nursing job. We laugh as we go through old high school yearbooks and old photo albums. Nothing jogs Ava’s memory, but we are all okay with that. It’s about making new memories, and getting her back to some kind of normal, and that’s just what we are doing.
Marshall comes home and asks to speak with Skylar alone. I know it’s the first time they’ve seen each other since he banned her and Chase from seeing Ava at the hospital. I still have no idea why he did it. He said he was trying to protect Ava. Maybe he thought they would try to force her memory and cause more harm than good. I have no idea. I know that whatever reason he had for doing it, it was for Ava’s benefit.
They return from the study and I can see relief on Skylar’s face. I know she and Chase must have wondered if they were banned from seeing Ava for other reasons. Marshall will need to call Chase and clear it up with him, if he hasn’t already. He’s been busy with other things, but this should take top priority. We have dessert and coffee at the table while Ava and Skylar share their ideas with him. He agrees that every place they mention is too far away, except Savannah.
“So when will this move take place?” he asks.
“It’s still in the early planning stages,” I say.
“I don’t see any reason to postpone the search,” he says.
Skylar chimes in and says, “Ava’s worried about running a business with her memory loss.”
“I see. Can you add?” He looks at Ava with a serious look on his face.
“Um, yeah. I can add.”
“Can you count?”
“Of course I can count.”
“Then I think you’re ready. Your memory has nothing to do with you moving on with your life. I think a bed and breakfast could be a very profitable and exciting business for the both of you.”
Marshall is doing what Marshall always does. He’s supporting our daughter anyway he can. Nothing is more important to Marshall, than Ava’s happiness. Sometimes he has a hard time showing it, and sometimes he gets so consumed with work, but I never misunderstand his intentions when it comes to his daughter even when others misunderstand them.
Chase
After I left Ava and Skylar in search of Marshall, I went everyplace that I knew to check before realizing how few places I knew to look. I went by Marshall’s office, Lorraine’s condo, and a few local hotels. If he’s having an affair, assuming he is having an affair, where else would he go? I drive around the city, looking for his black Hummer and her yellow Mustang. Both vehicles should be easy to spot. If I find him, I have no idea what I would say. Would I even confront him? What he does is none of my business. I just don’t want him hurting Ava. And if he’s hurting Claire, then Ava gets hurt, too. In my opinion, Ava is my business.
I search for two solid hours, driving back and forth from Lorrain’s condo to Marshall’s office. I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed when I don’t find them. With everything that Ava has been through with her father, her husband, and the accident, I’m definitely relieved to not have anything to report back.
When I called Skylar earlier, she told me that she and Ava are going over to spend the evening with Claire. I’m glad she won’t be home alone. I just tell Skylar to have fun and I’ll speak with them later.
Ava
When Chase left, Skylar and I decided since Dad was gone, we would go over and keep Mom company. I’m glad we did because I had a good time. I didn’t remember my past, but it was still fun.
When Dad showed up, I couldn’t hel
p remember that Chase said Dad had lunch with a woman from his office and her young son. He’s loving towards Mom and that’s what I care about. I want to ask him what’s going on, but I can’t. I can’t come out and just ask him. What would I say? “Hey, are you sleeping around on Mom?” No, I can’t ask that. Maybe the old me was confrontational, but that’s not who I am now. Maybe if he was acting differently towards Mom, I would ask him, but he’s not.
At the end of the night, Mom and Skylar insist that I take the notebook and the books about being an innkeeper home with me.
They say it was something I always wanted to do. Although I can’t remember that, I do feel something in my soul that says they’re right. I didn’t act excited about the possibility of opening and operating a bed and breakfast, because I didn’t want to get my hopes up. But deep down, I can’t wait to read through my notes and start reading the books. And I have been reading about tea rooms and the Japanese tea ceremony despite my amnesia.
“So, are you coming back to my house with me?”
“No, why would I? I have my own home to go to.”
“Ava? Does your amnesia affect your short-term memory, too?”
“Skylar? Is that your name?” I tease. “God, I hope not. What are you talking about?”
“The burglar. The alarm? The shoeprints in the bushes that you didn’t tell your mom and dad about? Does any of that jog a memory?”
“That wasn’t anything. The prints were left by the gardener….”
“And what about the alarm?”
“That was from the wind… or something.”
“Look, I would feel better if you’d come and stay with me tonight. At least until we have your dad or Chase look at the alarm system for you. Maybe it did just malfunction.”
I know she’s looking out for my wellbeing, and I appreciate that. I just don’t want to be a burden on her. “I need to go home. I really want to get started on these books,” I admit. I also want to distract her so she won’t worry about me going home.
“Are you serious about that?”
“Well, I’m at least going to read over the books.” That part’s the truth.
“You’ll call me if you need me?”
“I’ll call you on the hour, if it’ll make you feel better.”
She thinks for a minute as if considering that to be a good idea. “I have work tomorrow, just call if you need me.” Before I can say anything, she adds, “Or, I could have Chase stay with you….”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll call if I need you.”
Skylar drops me off and waits for me to enter the house through the garage. Since my car is still at her house, we’ve arranged for her to pick me up tomorrow after work so I can get my car. If I need to leave before that, I’ll call Mom, Dad, or Chase to pick me up.
I shower and make some hot tea before getting settled in the guest bed with my books, notebook, pen, and my laptop. I’m excited to start reading on what could possibly be the next adventure in my life. I use red pens, highlighters, and black markers and start highlighting and making a list of things I’ll need. Am I really considering moving to a new area and opening a bed and breakfast with a tea room? Can I do this? Is it fair that I ask Skylar to give up her career to come along with me on this wild ride? What about my mom and dad? What about Chase? I like him. He’s been a good friend. I don’t want to leave them behind.
After researching Savannah, Georgia, I’m excited when I find some affordable prime properties. Savannah is a historical area with many Victorian homes that could be turned into a bed and breakfast. Luckily for me, Connor left me very well off. The house and the car are paid off, and the money from the life insurance policy is more than I’ll ever need. I’m blessed in that sense. I’ve been bored with just sitting around home and racking my brain to remember things, anything. Sometimes, I think I’m trying too hard. Maybe if I focus on this, my brain can rest and my memory will return.
The more I research, the more excited I become about the possibility of becoming an innkeeper. I know I can’t do this alone, and I know that Skylar may just be caught up in the moment or just saying she’ll join me in this new adventure out of friendship. Finally, I stow everything beneath the bed and turn in for the night.
I dream of fighting and nosebleeds, I dream of stairs, broken bones, and pain, I dream of black eyes and sutures; I dream of a monster named Connor.
I wake from my dream afraid to move. I can’t decide what’s fact or fiction. Who can I ask if Connor abused me? I can’t ask his parents without sounding like I’m accusing him of being a batterer. If I do ask, it’ll be as if I’m assuming he was. Mom, Chase, and Skylar… they already said they don’t know. They also said that I wasn’t around much after my marriage. Is it because I was battered and broken, and couldn’t be seen in public?
After spending the early morning researching more about Savannah, Georgia, I decide to call a Realtor and schedule some appointments to see some potential property for a bed and breakfast. I don’t remember my past and I don’t like the dreams, or the visions I’ve been having. It could be Connor was a great guy, but I have no idea. If he wasn’t, then I’m better off without him.
I don’t tell anyone about my plans to travel to Savannah this weekend. I can’t ask them to join me or to help me in my decision to move ahead with my life. I also can’t tell them my dreams haunt me and I need to get away, that I need to run far and fast away from my hometown.
On Thursday, I tell Mom and Skylar that I may have the flu, and I plan to stay in all weekend. Skylar tells me she’s working twelve-hour shifts on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and Mom says that she and Dad have plans for Friday and Saturday night.
Planning to leave early on Friday morning, I pack what I think I’ll need Thursday night for my trip to Savannah. Chase calls me and tells me he’s pulling up to the house with food. Frantically, I change out of my jeans and sweatshirt, and into sleep pants, a T-shirt, and tie my hair into a messy bun. Skylar must have told him I was sick.
As I walk to the front door, I toss a pillow and throw blanket onto the couch to make it look like I’ve been lying around. I open the door and Chase is walking up the sidewalk, carrying a small sack. I’m glad it’s not pizza. “Hey, what brings you over?”
“I heard you were sick, so I brought you some soup.” He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. “You don’t feel as though you have a fever,” he adds.
“No fever, just a sore throat, headache, and an upset belly,” I lie, shutting the front door.
“The way Sky talked, she thought maybe it was the flu.”
That’s because I told her I thought it was the flu. “I wonder where she got that idea from?”
“Hard to tell. Do you want some chicken noodle soup?”
I start to walk toward the kitchen and say, “Sure, thanks.”
“Go lie down, and I’ll warm up the soup for you.”
I could warm up the soup, but I do what he says and go and lie on the couch. “Okay, thanks.” I feel bad for lying about being sick, but what choice do I have? I have to keep up the charade.
Chase returns with two bowls of soup, crackers, and two bottles of water on a wooden serving tray. I’m sitting on the couch and prop my feet up so Chase can also sit on the couch with me. I watch as he sets the tray on the middle cushion. He doesn’t say anything as he hands me my soup. After several minutes he says, “When did you start feeling ill?”
“Um, earlier today.” I quickly take a bite of my soup to avoid having to say anything else. I don’t want to lie to him. I can feel him watching me from the corner of his eyes. Why do I feel like he knows something? I cough and sniffle to add to the lie already in progress. He remains quiet.
He sets his empty bowl down and takes a drink from his water bottle. “So, what are your plans for tomorrow?” he finally asks.
“What’s that old saying, ‘Feed a cold and starve a fever’?” I set my empt
y soup bowl down. “It looks like I’ll be feeding a cold, since I don’t have a fever.” I cough and sniffle again for good measure before taking a drink of my water.
“That’s odd,” he says, rubbing his hand over his five o’clock shadow.
“What is?”
“It’s the strangest thing. When I walked past the guest room, the light was on, and it looked like you were packing to leave or something.”
Shit. I wonder for a second if I can’t blame it on the amnesia, too. No, I can’t continue this lie. “I had another dream last night.”
“Ava, are you remembering something?” He leans up from the couch and looks concerned.
Who knows? “I dreamed of blood, yelling, and broken bones.”
“And you think that might be a memory?”
“I don’t know what to think. I also had a dream where you hurt me, and I thought that was real. I have no idea what to believe.”
“What does this have to do with the suitcase sitting on the bed in the spare guest room?”
I smooth the blanket over my lap and say, “I need to get away, Chase. I need to start over with a fresh start.”
“Where are you going?”
“You know about my dream to own a bed and breakfast?”
“I may have heard something about it a time or two,” he teases.
“Well, Mom thought Savannah, Georgia, would be a great location to open one up.”
“That’s not too far away.”
“That’s what she said. Anyway, I called a Realtor and I have an appointment for Saturday morning to see some potential properties.”
“What time are you planning on leaving in the morning?”
“I was thinking about 8:00 a.m. I want to beat the rush-hour traffic on I-95.”
He runs his hands up and down his jean-clad thighs. “Ava? Have you thought about who will help you run it? It’ll be a lot of work for one person.”
I tell him that Skylar mentioned she was interested in opening it up with me. I also tell him I don’t feel comfortable asking her to give up on her career for something that may or may not work. If the bed and breakfast failed, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.
“I think she might be hurt if you don’t ask her. Assuming the properties you look at are suitable and what you want. She’s a big girl, and she’s more than capable of deciding what to do with her future.”
“You’re right, she is. I’ll think about it. Let me see if the properties are even worth considering. If they are, maybe I’ll ask her to join me.” He nods and I know he approves. I think it may even take more than two people to run it successfully. Maybe if we’re organized enough, two people will be enough.
We say our goodbyes, and I finish packing before heading to bed.
The next morning, I shower and have coffee before leaving. I’m surprised when I back out of the driveway and Chase is pulling in. I look at the clock on the dashboard and it reads 7:58 a.m. I know Chase had plans to go fishing with his friends this weekend. Skylar was telling me it’s an annual trip for them. Before I can put my car in park, Chase is exiting his truck. He knew I was leaving this morning, and I’m worried something may be wrong. I lower the car window and ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. Park your car, you can ride with me.” He opens my back car door and removes my luggage.
Confused by his statement, I ask, “Where are you going?”
“To Savannah. Hurry up,” he says, closing the car door. “I don’t want to be late.”
“Savannah,” I say but he’s already walking back to his truck. Instead of pulling into the garage like he instructed, I get out and walk back to his vehicle. “What do you mean, I can ride with you? I thought you were going fishing?”
“I’m going with you. I can’t let you drive to Savannah alone.”
“What about your fishing trip?”
“It got canceled. Hurry up and park the car or we’ll be late.”
Chase
I watch as a confused Ava pulls into the garage and parks her car. I anticipated an argument when I got here, but I guess the element of surprise was on my side. She was too stunned to see me to argue with me.
I had a vacation day planned for today to do some grouper fishing with some friends from college, but when she told me her plans were to travel to Georgia by herself, I knew I couldn’t let her go alone. I went home last night, called my buddies, and told them I had to cancel on the fishing trip. I hated to do that, but there are enough guys going, that I won’t be missed… too much.
Ava walks to my truck with a smile on her face, and her purse slung over her shoulder. I’m glad to see that she isn’t upset with my decision to go with her. I didn’t want her to go to Savannah and make a rash decision, one she may regret later. With everything she’s been through this year, she needs to be with a friend. I can offer her some legal and professional advice, and still keep an open mind.
“Ready?” I ask once she’s seated in the passenger seat.
“Whenever you are,” she says sweetly.
She doesn’t question why I’m here, and she seems genuinely happy that I’m going with her. Maybe she’s just happy that I’m doing the driving, so it’s hard to tell. Once we are on I-10, she asks, “So, you didn’t have anything better to do with your three-day weekend than to spend it with me in Georgia?”
Is this a trick question? I’ve had a crush on Ava since before she met Connor. I’ve never told anyone, but I couldn’t hide my feeling from Skylar. She saw right through me. She knows how I feel and she swore to secrecy to never reveal my feelings to anyone, especially Ava. “No, I thought it was more important to see your dream come true,” I say instead. We were friends for a long time before my crush actually started. Then when I was ready to reveal my feelings to her, she met Connor.
“Chase, thank you. That is so sweet. So, you don’t think this is a mistake?”
I think for a brief second. “To chase your dream? Never. Unless your dream is to be invisible and fly by flapping your arms.” I quickly look over at her before I continue. “I do think if you pursue this, you’ll need help from a close friend or a family member.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”
“About asking Skylar to join forces with you?”
“Yes. I’m going to ask her and if she says no, I have a backup plan.”
“Look at you.” I smile. “What’s your backup plan?”
“I’m going to ask you to be my co-innkeeper.”
I laugh loudly. “Me? An innkeeper? I don’t think so. Ava, you may need another backup plan to your backup plan.”
“I figured you’d decline my offer. I’ll just hope that Skylar was serious about coming aboard. If not, Mom and Dad will help me.”
“Did they say that?”
“No, but a girl can dream, can’t I?”
We pull up at the bed and breakfast and Ava is excited. She notices the cute sign out front that reads, “Orange Blossom Inn.” She comments on the large wrap-around porch, the white wooden rockers, the bistro tables, and the beautiful landscape. This place definitely has curb appeal.
I look more closely and notice the large slate roof that needs replaced, the sidewalk that needs repaired, and the old carriage house that looks like it may fall over with the next windstorm.
“Chase, look, this place is beautiful,” she says with more excitement than I’ve seen from her in a very long time.
“Yep, it’s something all right.”
We park and get checked into the bed and breakfast. They were booked up for the weekend, but Ava insisted that she and I were friendly enough that we could share her room. She’s right, we are friendly enough to share a room together as friends. I can share a room with a beautiful girl for the weekend. We’re friends, right?
Once we get settled into the room and freshen up, I follow Ava downstairs as she begins h
er mission. She speaks with the husband-and-wife innkeepers, Steve and Lou Ann Mohler, and tells them her plans for opening a bed and breakfast on the other side of town. Instead of looking at Ava as competition, they offer to show us around and help her in any way they can.
Ava has a notebook and jots down ideas. She also has a list of questions she asks. We walk through the Victorian-style home, through the kitchen, and then the main living quarters where the owners live. Outside is a garden where there are lots of shade trees and sitting areas. I think this would be great for Ava, and for Skylar, but it may also be more than two people can handle. If the inn is open every day of the year, I don’t see much time for a personal life for anyone who chooses to be in this business. I keep those reservations to myself. Ava doesn’t need to hear my negative thoughts. This is her dream, and I’ll support her anyway I can. I may bring it up later to her.
Once the tour of the inn is over, we drive around town and do a sneak peak of the properties she has listed to see tomorrow with a Realtor. There are four total and I can cross three of them off of her list without ever going into the houses. From a man’s standpoint, there is just too much work for the price they’re asking for the property. Unless the price is negotiable by a significant amount, it’s a waste of time to even look at them. I don’t say that, not today anyway. This is Ava’s dream, and she should at least experience the entire thrill of becoming an independent business owner. I’ll remain silent until she’s about to make a big mistake, then I’ll politely share my concerns with her. She’s smart, and I have faith in her that she’ll make the right decision.
After dinner the innkeepers, Lou Ann and Steve, offer us drinks and join us on a stroll around the property. We walk through the garden while Ava and Lou Ann enjoy a glass of Moscato and Steve and I have a glass of Rémy Martin. Luckily for me, the innkeepers have great taste in after-dinner drinks and they both took a liking to Ava. They tell us what brought them to Savannah and that they opened up the bed and breakfast after they retired. “We always loved the history of Savannah and thought it would be a great way to stay social and active. We do close down during the off season, and that’s when we vacation and visit our family and friends.
“You run this business alone?” I ask.
Lou Ann says, “Oh, heavens, no. We thought we could at first, but we had to hire outside help. It’s a lot of work for two people. The laundry, the cleaning, and not to mention the cooking, even if it is just breakfast.”
Ava swirls the wine around in her glass. “I can imagine. This is an eight-bedroom inn, right?”
“It’s seven bedrooms. It was actually a ten-bedroom house, but we had to add more bathrooms to turn the bedrooms into suites.”
When Ava and I turn in for the night, I tell her I have a bad back and I need to sleep on a hard surface. That was a lie. I hate firm mattresses and I hate hard floors even more. This isn’t a good time to tell her I have feelings for her, not with her having amnesia and all she’s been through. She graciously helps me make a bed on the floor with the extra quilts we found in the closet. I watch as she climbs into the bed and sinks into the pillow-top mattress. Once Ava is situated in the queen-sized bed, I turn off the lights and climb into my makeshift bed on the floor. After thinking about sharing a room with Ava, I suggested calling local hotels to get me a room since the bed and breakfast didn’t have any vacancies. Ava didn’t want me to leave, so I didn’t mention it again.
I don’t sleep well and I wake up with a stiff neck and back. I’m grateful I have only one more night of sleeping on this hard floor. While Ava showers, I fold the blankets and place them back in the closet.
I lie at the foot of the bed and marvel at how wonderful the bed feels. I have almost dozed off when Ava tells me she’s done in the bathroom. I shower while Ava does whatever girls do after they shower.
I take a longer than normal shower. I want to give her enough time to do what she needs to do. I’m pleasantly surprised and shocked to see her dressed and ready when I exit the bathroom. She has minimal makeup on, and her hair is still damp but braided down her back. She’s wearing a pair of black yoga pants, a white hoodie, and a pair of tennis shoes. I knew Ava was naturally beautiful, but I didn’t know she was naturally stunning.
“You take longer than I do to get ready,” she teases.
“Sorry, unlike you, I have to work hard for my good looks.” I smile and she giggles. “You ready?” I ask.
“I am.”
We go downstairs and have breakfast with the other guests and the owners. I’ve never stayed at a bed and breakfast before, and it isn’t what I expected at all. I think I was expecting a check-in desk and a restaurant-style dining room. Instead, there is one large table and everyone sits at it and the guests are served family style. The other guests are also surprised and pleasantly happy. The owners, Lou Ann and Steve, tell us that through the week, breakfast is served buffet style in the other dining room. But on the weekends, the guests seem to like the sit-down family-style meal. The coffee and the other drinks are set out on a beverage counter for easier access.
Once we’re done, we leave to meet the Realtor at the first house. By the time we look at the last house, the Realtor, Ben Michaels, is joking and flirting with Ava. This is unprofessional and it pisses me off. I also don’t like that Ava seems to be flirting back. Ava walks ahead as she looks through the house and he asks, “So, what’s the story on your friend, is she single?”
“Who, Ava?” Who else would he be talking about? Of course it’s Ava. I need to stall so I can come up with something.
“Yeah, she’s hot.”
“No, she’s married and has kids,” I lie. There, that should keep him away from her.