The next morning, Sheila woke to a dark, unfamiliar room. It took her a moment to realize where she was.
Looking at the bedside clock near the lamp, she realized it was 9:00 in the morning.
Where’s Bess? Why didn’t she wake me?
Quickly, she hobbled to the bedroom door, opened it quietly and listened. Nothing. Everything was still. After dressing, she went to the kitchen.
On the table was a note to Helen Smith. Smiling, she picked it up and read:
Helen, gone to work. Knew you needed the rest. I’ll drop by around lunch, to see how you’re doing. Help yourself to anything in the house. We’ll talk when I get home, Bess.
A couple of hours later, Bess came home to find her friend in the living room peeking through the blinds she had closed, watching the world outside where she didn’t dare to go.
They had lunch in the kitchen, and discussed how to get the girls to the clinic. But like before, nothing materialized that wouldn’t be obvious.
“Maybe it doesn’t matter,” Sheila said. “As soon as I see and talk to them, you can take me out of here. Braxton can guess all he wants, but I’ll be gone and away from here.”
“Yes… But I’ll still be here, and so will the girls. What are we to do?” Bess reminded her.
“Oh Bess, I haven’t thought this through enough, have I. What am I to do? I should never have come! What am I doing here? I couldn’t bear it if something should happen to any of you,” she said, expressing the strain she felt.
Firmly Bess said, “I’ve got to get back to the clinic. We’ll have to decide something tonight. And whatever it is, we’ve got to get it done as quickly as possible. That much I know.”
Giving her friend a hug she said, “Don’t worry, if you can. And don’t answer the phone, or the door. Here’s the phone number of the clinic, if you should need to reach me in an emergency,” she said as she wrote the number down on the back of her earlier note. “I’ll be home around five.”
And with that, Bess was gone, leaving Sheila to lock the door behind her.
The rest of the day was torture. Every noise was investigated, especially if it came from outside.
Late in the afternoon, Sheila fell asleep, exhausted from the restless night and the emotional strain of staying in this place alone, the time dragging, and trying to think of ways to solve her problem.
Bess found her sound asleep on the couch.
Preparation of dinner broke the monotony of the day and the women chatted, talking about the past and things they shared in common. But Sheila was feeling the pressure of her presence in a place she was beginning to believe she shouldn’t be in.
They were eating dinner peacefully, talking, when they were startled by a forceful knock at the front door. Bess and Sheila looked at each other.
Bess got up to see who it was. Looking through the peephole, the person at the door looked like Stanton in his policeman’s uniform.
Bess’s heart jumped with the shock. Opening the door, she asked, “Why, Stanton, what are you doing here?”
“May I come in? I’d like to talk to you,” he said firmly.
Bess hesitated, Sheila was in the house. What was she supposed to do? But it would look suspicious if she refused to let him in and she couldn’t think of a reason to keep him out.
She’ll stay hidden. But why is he here?
“Sure,” she said as she stepped aside. “Would you like to sit down?” she offered, pointing to the couch and shutting the door.
“Bess, I’ll come to the point,” he said standing next to her. “Is Sheila here?”
Bess was shocked by the question, the directness of it and it frightened her. How could he possibly assume such a thing?
“Sheila? What are you talking about? Why would she be here, after all this time?” she questioned, her heart pounding with fear of discovery.
“I need to know, Bess. It would be very foolish of her to come back here, after all this time, and endanger all of us.”
“What makes you think she’s here?”
“First, Mrs. Bartlett called me today to tell me she saw the spitting image of Sheila, in short black hair, closing the blinds in this house, And then when I talked with Dr. Bishop, he told me you have a sick friend staying with you. It doesn’t take much imagination to put it all together. You were her best friend, Bess. You’re the first person she’d come to if she needed help. What is she doing here? Is she crazy?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Bess said, trying to evade what was coming, her body tingling with apprehension. “Helen Smith is staying with me, a friend from college.” It sounded so weak, such a lie.
It was all falling apart and exposure was imminent.
“Bess, I’m not here to hurt her, but to get her out of here. She can’t stay!” he said firmly.
Bess was silent. What could she say?
“Why is she here?” he demanded again.
“To see my children,” Sheila said walking into the room with her cane. “I won’t leave without at least seeing them, Stanton!” she said firmly, stoically, and with resolve.
Stanton looked her up and down, and then his face softened. He could see what the last ten years had done to her. “So, you’ve gotten your memory back, have you?” he said quietly.
Both Bess and Sheila were shocked that he knew she’d lost it.
He continued, “Yes, I know what happened to you. I’ve been keeping an eye on you for years.”
Sheila could no longer stand and collapsed into the nearest chair. Bess went over and stood by her friend.
“You have to leave. If I can find out so easily that you’re here, so can my brother!” Stanton warned sternly.
“Stanton… I’m not leaving, not yet. And if you think I don’t know the danger I’m in, then you were blind all those years I was with Braxton. I’m terrified. But, I didn’t abandon my girls willingly then, and I won’t do it now. Yes, I have my memory back… all of it. And I still won’t leave them. Not without letting them know how much I love and miss them,” she said as tears swam in her eyes, and the grief of her long separation making her desperate.
Stanton understood only too well. He had come to love the girls as his own, and he could imagine just how much she meant it.
Taking a seat on the couch he asked, “Well, what can I do to help you, then? We have to resolve this quickly if I’m going to keep all of us safe.”
“Can I see them, please?” she begged.
“Of course. And it’s not as bad as you think, either. The girls know all about you. I’ve told them as much as I could, over the years, and they want to keep you as safe as I do.”
“They know all about me? How?”
“When you first disappeared, Braxton was unable to find you, because your car and everything about you had been destroyed in that fire. He checked the hotels, airports and bus terminals… everything except the hospitals for some reason. I guess it never occurred to him that something could have happened to you. So you weren’t discovered.”
“And by the time I came on the scene, a few years later, you were in the nursing home without any memory of who you were. I found you there and when I talked with you, I realized you had no memory of us, of Brandon Creek, or anything from your past. You were safe, but unable to handle the situation here or protect the girls. I talked with Dr. Cranston, the man in charge of your case, and he told me the extent of your injuries, that it was unlikely that you would ever remember your past. It wasn’t impossible, but very unlikely that your memory would ever return.”
“That’s when I went back, determined to get the girls away from my brother. And I did, Sheila. Jean and I love them as if they were our own. And I believe they’re happy with us. But I also know they miss you and need you, as any child needs their own mother. But, you weren’t able to be their mother. You didn’t even know them, or remember the situation with your husband.”
“Then I learned that your nurse and friend, Marie, was taking you to Florida to live w
ith her. Content that you were still safe, I had a detective friend of mine check on you once in a while. I kept track of you that way. And then suddenly today, I get a call from Mrs. Sally Bartlett next door, and before I know it, I’m taking emergency leave from work and driving frantically over here to find out what’s going on before something happens… something that we might all regret.”
The women sat in stunned silence, trying to take it in.
“Now, I’ve got to figure a way to resolve this and get you out of here.”
“Now, WE have to find a way to resolve it,” Sheila corrected him.
Stanton smiled, “Yes, we… I get it. But, it’s been so long since you were a part of life around here. I’m glad you have your memory back and I want you to see the girls. But we’ll have to think this through… and tonight!”
Together At Last