Chapter 13

  Taking Clarisse’s advice, I fought the urge to confront Mama about everything I’d learned in Radcliffe. I waited for days so I could think through everything I wanted to ask Nolan before calling him. Then when I finally, did we played phone tag for a few more days. I resorted to texting since the third time I’d missed his call I’d been at work and wouldn’t be able to talk until my lunch break, which would be around midnight. I had too much to ask him to call on one of my breaks. I let him know that I was at work and couldn’t talk but said there was something I was curious about, so I asked him what he meant by things got heavy. I was pretty sure I already knew; I just wanted confirmation.

  I’d been in the middle of checking on one of my maternity ward patients when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Of course, the baby chose that moment to crown, and I was busy helping deliver it and prepping the newborn for the next hour or so. When I was finally able to check, Nolan’s response made my heart flutter.

  I was your first. =)

  I had a feeling that was the case. It made me happy to have some closure when it came to this. But at the same time, I was sad that I didn’t remember. It made sense now why my heart might’ve been begging me to remember. My first experience with a guy like Nolan had to have been profound, especially for someone as shy as everyone said I was back then. But I still had to ask.

  Were we in love?

  This one I wasn’t as sure about. The fact that he hadn’t come looking for me in all these years made me think we weren’t. At least he hadn’t been. My having all these triggers that ultimately led me back to him meant I probably was. That would make sense too, considering all the heartache I’d been feeling. I was almost glad I didn’t remember; though clearly my heart did. And that would make total sense if Mama knew: she wouldn’t want me to remember.

  We were good friends. I never had a girlfriend like you, one I could talk to like I could with you. You said the same about me. Then one day we just went there, but there was never any talk of love. At least not yet. Then the accident happened and then you left =(

  More confusion. Damn it. I felt like I wasn’t asking the right questions. But my other questions felt like they might be rude. Disrespectful. Was it possible that, as Clarisse said, I was just hung up on Nicolas because he’d been the first enlightenment of this part of my past? The power of thought was something else. It’s what Mama always said when I spoke of my triggers, and I was so convinced they were buried memories. She’d even suggested the feelings of deep sorrow I felt when some of the triggers hit were all in my head, something I convinced myself I was feeling because I wanted so badly to believe there was a memory hidden among them.

  But now I knew there were memories hidden in them or rather not hidden. They were right there in front of my face. I just hadn’t known what they meant. Like with M&M’s, I would’ve never known what it meant had Joaquin and Xavier not been there to confirm when I had those flashes.

  I decided to wait until I could talk to Nolan. I had too many questions and wanted him to understand I wasn’t trying to be rude or disrespectful, but I really didn’t understand so much yet.

  When I got home the next morning, I waited for Mama to leave and then a little longer so I wouldn’t be calling so early. Finally, my call didn’t go to voicemail.

  “Does your Mama know you’re calling one of the Cortez brothers—your first everything?”

  I smiled, feeling nervous suddenly. His voice was as deep and resonant as his brothers’ all had been when I called the shop those several times and left messages. Only far more playful.

  “Hell, no. She doesn’t know I drove all the way to Radcliffe either. Which reminds me how did you guys end up there?”

  “We have family here. Nico left first. After the accident, he said everything about Huntsville reminded him of peanut.”

  My heart pounded at the sound of the word. The dull ache that seemed always to be lingering there now, intensified, and I felt myself choke up.

  “We didn’t like the idea of him being out here on his own. He’d gotten a job fixing bikes out here, so little by little we all moved out here. Then Dad sold the shop in Huntsville and used the money to help my brothers open up the shop.”

  Clearing my throat, I had to ask. I knew it might be awkward, but I had to know so I could finally understand why I was feeling all this.

  “Nolan, I asked your brothers this, and they assured me that there wasn’t. Since you and I were closer, maybe you know better. Did anything ever happen between Nicolas and me? As bad as that would’ve been, did I ever admit to you to possibly having feelings for him?”

  He was quiet for an uncomfortable moment. “No. Why? Do you?”

  His tone was understandably annoyed, so I explained quickly. “I don’t know. I don’t understand it, and like I told you, I didn’t even remember anything about him or you and your brothers until I saw him at the cemetery. I feel a closeness to you that makes sense if we had something going, but there’s something so profound that I feel whenever I think of Nicolas.”

  “Maybe you did but never told me. You wouldn’t have.”

  “But you said we could talk—”

  “I would’ve been pissed, Maggie.” It’s exactly what he sounded like now—pissed. “You and I hadn’t talked love, but we were getting there. There’s no way you would’ve shared something like that with me. But you did want to take things slow, so maybe that’s why. Maybe you were into him.”

  “I don’t understand it though,” I said, walking around the kitchen, feeling the frustration mount. “I don’t remember anything about my relationship with Madeline, but I have seen the videos and endless photos Mama has of us, and I know we were close. I know how much we cared for each other. I can’t believe that I would covet her boyfriend, especially seeing and knowing how in love they were.”

  “Maybe that’s why,” he said. “On more than one occasion you did say you wished you were a little more outgoing like her.” He scoffed suddenly, confusing me. “I always told you it’s what I liked best about you. Your sister was an open book; you were quiet and mysterious. I thought it was sexy. Here I had no idea just how much you were really hiding.”

  “But I don’t know if I was. It’s just a theory.”

  “Fuck this,” he said suddenly. “I gotta go.”

  “No, wait,” I said, feeling the lump in my throat give, and my voice broke. “Nolan, please don’t be mad.” I shook my head, even more frustrated from hearing my high-pitched voice betray me. “I’ve been so confused for years.”

  I was a blubbering mess now, damn it, but I refused to let the one person who might help me remember, cut me off. So, I tried desperately to compose myself. I took a deep breath and went on quickly before he’d hang up on me.

  “There’s something my heart’s been trying to remember. I’ve had these triggers and flashes of tiny memories, only I don’t know what any of those memories might mean: the photo booth at that old theater in Huntsville, a painting of a couple on a bridge overlooking a river, and an old Harley at a flea market.”

  “Was it a classic?”

  “Yes!” I said, stopping in the middle of my kitchen where I’d been pacing frantically as I tried to remember all the triggers.

  “I don’t know anything about the photo booth, but Nico’s first bike was an old classic he restored,” he said nonchalantly. “You might’ve taken your first ride on that bike. And Maddie was always painting pictures of her and Nico.” He chuckled. “She said it pissed your mama off.”

  “Madeline painted too?” I asked, wondering why Mama had never mentioned that.

  He was quiet for a moment. “What do you mean too?”

  I shook my head as my heart started up again. “Mama told me about my artistic ability, and it’s one of the things that has come back to me. I paint all the time now. But she never mentioned Madeline painting.”

  “I don’t know for sure if you ever did and were shy about showing me, but I only ever kne
w Maddie to be into drawing and painting.”

  Jesus Christ, could this be more confusing? It only added more to my list of questions I’d have for Mama. But I went back to the other stuff I asked him about. These couldn’t have all been just random memories. They had to mean something. Or again, was I just desperate to convince myself they did? Then I remembered the one Mama had made sound like it was totally random.

  “Do you know if your brother ever gave Maddie a Christmas ornament of a couple on a scooter?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s possible. He was always buying her stuff. Your sister was his everything. I don’t think he’ll ever recover from her loss. It’s so fucked up.”

  After finally having recovered from my blubbering, I was crying again. I grabbed a paper towel and wiped my eyes in anger. “There’s no way,” I began to say but stopped to clear my voice so he’d understand me over my stupid crying and continued with conviction. “There’s no way then that I would have had feelings for him. Maybe I’m just feeling incredibly bad for him or something. There’s no denying how much he loved her, and I may not remember anything about my relationship with Madeline, but I do know I wouldn’t be stupid enough to be crushing on someone who’s so obviously someone else’s soul mate. Least of all my own sister’s, who I don’t doubt for a moment I loved very much. I just don’t understand why I feel so much when I see him even back at that first moment before I even knew who he was. I wish I could talk to him—”

  “Don’t,” he said firmly. “He’s been a fucking mess all over again ever since the day you showed up here. He’d just started to get past what seeing you had done to him the first time. It’s hard enough for him, Maggie. Don’t do it, please.”

  “Okay,” I whispered. “But can I still call you if I have any more questions? Or triggers you might be able to help me figure out?”

  I heard him sigh. “Sure. I’ll do whatever I can to help, and, Maggie, I’m sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “About snapping at you earlier. I know you don’t remember anything, but obviously, you’ve been through a lot too. Still are. So, call me or text me whenever you want. In fact, I don’t have to go now. We can still talk if you want to.”

  “No need to be sorry,” I said, smiling. “I feel like I should be asking better questions, but I don’t know what else to ask.”

  “So, let me ask cause I’m curious now. What did you end up choosing? Nursing or culinary school?”

  “Culinary?” I asked, confused.

  “Yeah, you were torn between the two. You loved cooking as much as Maddie loved art.”

  Mama had never mentioned my love for cooking. And as far as I could remember, I’d never felt any kind of affinity for cooking. I wasn’t that great a cook at all.

  “But I took nursing regional occupational classes even in high school. Mama said I’d known since then.”

  “One semester,” he explained. “But you also took a culinary regional course as well and said even then you couldn’t decide. You loved cooking, which reminds me I still have a recipe box you left at my house once. It was your grandma’s. It’s why I held onto it all this time. Most of the recipes were handwritten. I figured if I ever talked to you again, you’d likely ask about it.”

  Huh. This was all news to me, and again, I was completely stumped. Why wouldn’t Mama mention it?

  “So, which is it? I always thought you should go with what felt more like your passion, and that was your cooking, but you said nursing was safer. I said that was your mom talking.”

  “I’m a nurse,” I said, feeling strangely disappointed and even more annoyed with my mother now.

  Had she even taken advantage of my memory loss to ensure I took the safer route, rather going after my real dream? Nolan said he figured as much.

  “But I had no idea I was into cooking. Mama never mentioned it, and I can barely make a grilled cheese without butchering it.”

  Nolan laughed; though I didn’t find this amusing. My insides were warming in anger again. “I can ship the recipe box and a sweatshirt I still have of yours out to you. Maybe they’ll jar some memories”

  I agreed immediately, slightly excited but still feeling annoyed with my mom. I asked him to package them discreetly so I could tell her it was something I’d bought online as I often did. After talking to Nolan a little more about my cooking and giving him my address, I hung up, but not before assuring him I’d be calling again.

  I rushed off to the cabinet where Mama kept the keys to the storage unit. I felt stupid now that it never occurred to me that there might be other reasons why it made her so nervous for me to be going through her totes in the storage garage. Now that I knew she’d been keeping so much from me, I had to know what else she might be hiding. It might help jog the memories.

  I took the keys and made copies then brought them back so she wouldn’t notice they were gone, especially since I planned on making many visits back to that garage now. I had a feeling there might be a lot of answers there.

  I should’ve been tired after working all night, but I suddenly had an adrenaline rush. “What else are you keeping from me, Mama?” I muttered, squeezing the steering wheel.

  Practically skidding to a stop in front of the storage garage, I jumped out of the car. I couldn’t get the door open fast enough. This was the first time in all these years that I’d been here without my mother. I’d never thought anything of it, but somehow, she’d managed to make sure I never made the trip without her there to supervise.

  I went straight for the tote of the aunt I’d yet to meet. My insides were in knots, but I was anxious to see what else I’d find in there. Curiously, there were more photos of Madeline and me, yearbooks, and another one of my old paintings.

  I dropped one painting as an invisible hand squeezed my windpipe and that habitual ache twisted my heart. Holding on to the totes, I sat down on the floor before my legs gave out on me. Doing my best to catch my breath, I picked up the painting again. It was Madeline and a younger-looking Nicolas on a pier. They were leaning against his bike, and he had his arm wrapped around her neck from behind, kissing her temple.

  I closed my eyes tight because I wanted to make sure I remembered every detail of the flashes in my head. It wasn’t just the painting that flashed in my head; it was a visual of Madeline jumping off that pier into Nicolas’s arms in the water and they were both naked. At least Madeline was. His lower half was under the water, but I could only assume. I could hear them this time: Madeline screeching and laughing as she jumped and Nicolas catching her and Madeline wrapping her arms around his neck as he kissed her deeply.

  It wasn’t until the visual was gone and I opened my eyes that I realized the tears were streaming down my face. I cried and cried and cried.

  I flinched and gasped when I opened my eyes and saw the unfamiliar faces staring at me.

  “Told you she was just asleep,” the heavyset man with the white hair said.

  “You’ve been drinking?” the other man with red hair and a thick red beard asked.

  “No,” I said, glancing around, alarmed when I realized I’d fallen asleep in the storage unit. “What time is it?”

  Red looked at his watch. “Almost four o’clock. Got a call from someone saying this garage has been open all day and that the car’s been parked out there all day. You can’t be living or even sleeping in here.”

  “I don’t live here,” I said, standing up with Red’s help. “I just stopped by, but I worked all night, so I must’ve dozed off.”

  The fact that I was still in my scrubs must’ve been enough to prove I actually had a job and didn’t need to sleep in my storage unit. The two men looked me over.

  “Denton Valley Hospital, huh?” Red said, reading the embroidered words on my scrubs. “That’s where I used to go for my chemo. Been in remission for three years now.”

  “That’s good.” I smiled, feeling awkward as I walked them out. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  They made a few more c
omments about several of the things in my storage unit before they walked off and left me alone again. I couldn’t believe I’d slept that long and was only grateful I hadn’t had one of my nightmares. I snooped around a bit more, knowing Mama got out of work at five and not wanting to chance her coming down here for any reason. I went back to concentrating on putting the tote where I’d found it, only I kept the painting.

  Locking things up, I hurried home before Mama got there and saw I’d been gone all day, still in scrubs. It pissed me off that I’d have to sneak around so she wouldn’t ask questions, when I was the one who should be demanding answers. But each time I talked to Clarisse, she reminded me my patience would eventually pay off.

  I took a photo of the painting and texted it to Nolan before hiding it in a tote up in my bedroom closet. I asked Nolan if he knew where that pier might be. When he didn’t respond in the first several minutes, I jumped in the shower. When I got out, there was still no response, so I lay down on my bed to wait, still feeling tired.

  “Lie still,” he says, and like always, I do as he says.

  “You’re gonna love this.” He kisses my inner thighs all the way up as my entire body begins to tremble from that alone; then he kisses me there. “All mine,” he says as I look down at the top of his head then gasp at the feeling of his mouth sucking on my clit.

  “Oh, my God,” I say with a moan as I squirm at the incredible feeling.

  I hear him chuckle against my dripping slit; then he licks it, and his tongue plunges into me as I arch my back with a moan and gaze up at the stars.

  He’s brought me here before, but this is the first time he’s done this. I’m in fucking heaven as he continues to suck and swirl his tongue around my clit. Moaning alone doesn’t do it for me anymore. I start to pant, feeling it build and build. “Oh God!” I cry out as he latches onto my clit and I start to come undone.

  His masterful tongue touches me just so that I continue to climax longer than I can remember ever doing on my own. It’s so magical and intense I feel the tears roll down the side of my face as I continue to squirm and moan unabashedly in pure ecstasy.