“Get the waffle iron out. Mom would kill us both if we forgot to make waffles.”
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Dylan
The star shot across the crystal clear sky, but all I could focus on was the hand that was holding mine. I turned and came face-to-face with the man that I only remembered being sad. At that moment however, his smile was as magnificent as the rest of that remarkable face.
“Wake up, sweet-pea,” Danny said and lightly tugged on my arm. “Time to work those beautiful legs.”
I squeezed my eyelids tighter. I didn’t want to wake up from my dream.
“Time to rise and shine, sunshine,” Danny whispered in my ear.
The dream had faded away, so I opened my eyes but couldn’t manage to smile. Danny, however, had an easy smile. It instantly put you at ease. Danny was not the most stunning of guys, but he was no dog either. He had a tanned face with a strong, square jawline, hazel eyes, and dishwater blond hair. I only had a few more weeks before I was discharged. I was going to miss Danny. He was the one thing that kept me going. Him and the idea of discovering who the sad man was. I was positive it was the Ethan my mind wouldn’t forget. The man my heart ached for, and the man I missed.
Danny put me through the ringer that day. I was tired and sore. All I wanted to do was climb into bed and hopefully dream more of stargazing. But Danny had other plans. He took me on a leisurely walk around the hospital. He said it was doctor’s orders. I wasn’t dumb. It was Danny’s orders. He was a great guy and went out of his way to do little things for me. Like sneaking me chocolate ice cream, moving me into a bigger room so I would have more space, and most importantly, arranging for me to have an ultrasound of my little bundle of joy for my birthday.
That was how I found myself laying on a table with my feet firmly placed in a pair of stirrups. I closed my eyes, wanting to find Baby E’s daddy. He should have been there. At the very least, I should have let Danny stay. As I was about to see Little E, I found myself as I often did, alone.
“Smile, this is a good thing,” the ultrasound tech said. “To get the most accurate data, I will need to do a transvaginal ultrasound. Other than this cold gel,” she said as she squirted a blob of gel on a long metal wand, “and a little pressure, it will not hurt a bit.”
I watched the small screen in amazement as black and white lines formed over the screen. A small little peanut-shaped baby came into focus. I reached up to run my finger across the screen as the room was filled with the most wonderful sound: the fast and loud thumping of my baby’s heartbeat.
“Strong little thing . . . look it’s already sucking its thumb.” She pointed out its little hand squashed to its cute little face. “You’re dating at fifteen weeks already. You are due August tenth. Looks like your conception date was November 17.”
I stared transfixed at the little miracle of mine floating across the screen. The tears rolled and I didn’t care. God was giving me a family, and I would do everything in my power to let that little angel know how loved it was.
“I can tell what it is.”
“You can?”
“Yeah, it’s early, but the little miracle is not very shy.”
“Can you write it down somewhere and seal it in an envelope?” I was not ready to learn the sex. I wanted to keep one part of my pregnancy to share with the father of the baby. When I finally found him?
“Yeah, no problem. Turn your head, I’ll print out a picture giving you a clear shot,” the tech said as she pulled the wand from inside me.
I turned my head and sealed my eyes shut. “Little E, are you an Elizabeth or an Ethan?” I immediately missed the sound of my baby’s beating heart. The nurse pulled my gown down and grabbed my hand to help me sit up. The tech handed me a printout of four pictures of my Little E and an envelope with a big question mark on the outside.
“You might bleed a little tonight after this procedure, but other than that, if you have any problems, tell your nurse.”
I nodded, still stunned as I looked at my miracle on the black and white print outs.
“Get dressed, and good luck, sweetie.”
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Ethan
I let my duffle bag fall to the floor with a plop. I was relieved to have the weekend over with. It was great catching up with Brandon. It had been hard on him and dad. It was their first time we were all together without Jamie. Even though Jamie was a hard one to love, those two loved him fiercely. Brandon had seemed like he was working through his resentment toward me over Jamie’s death. I didn’t know how much he knew about Dylan and my relationship, but since it was over, I hadn’t brought it up to him. I was shocked that my uncle encouraged me to rekindle my relationship with her. To be honest, I wanted to hit him, hard. If he hadn’t demanded she die for his sins, I might still have had her. Who was I kidding? A guy like me didn’t get to hold onto a girl like her. She’d always be my better.
“Whoa, bro,” Charlie said as he slammed into my back. “Going to let me through the door?”
“Do I have to?”
Charlie had to come home with me to work on some problems at the club. I was barely holding onto my job at the attorney general’s office. I couldn’t focus enough to handle the craziness at the club.
“Yeah, I need the cash these clubs make. I’m not some hot shot lawyer.”
“Who are you kidding? You make more drawing on people than I ever have,” I said as I stepped aside, letting him in.
“Because I’m the best, baby brother. Don’t ever forget it either,” he said as he marched off to the guest room as if he owned the joint. “Oh, yeah, Cherry will be here in about thirty minutes.”
I shook my head. It would be good having him there for a while.
Monday, February 16, 2015
Dylan
The pain was indescribable. Tears stung and were trying to escape my swollen eyes. The only comfort I had was the warm arms I found myself in. Was it another bad memory? I had to focus. I had no choice but to remember every detail so I could piece together my life.
“It hurts,” I whispered as he planted a kiss on my cheek, easing the burn.
“I know, beautiful. I wish I could take it all away. I wish I would have stopped it before they hurt you.” He stroked his hand down my arm and snuggled me closer to his firm, tight body. “I wish I could wrap you up and take you away with me. I never want you to know this pain again.”
It was comforting and peaceful. If not for the unrelenting pain, I would have never wanted to leave. He slipped his hands under my shirt and rested them on my back
“What’s your name?”
“My friends call me Sir, but you can call me anything you want as long as I get to hear that sweet voice,” he said as I flinched when he moved his hand softly across my skin. His touch reminded me of theirs.
“But what’s your name?” I couldn’t take any more pain and was slowly crumbling.
“It doesn’t matter.” His head dipped down until the tip of his nose nuzzled the skin on my neck.
It mattered to me. He mattered. He kissed the base of my neck. I bounced up in the bed and screamed.
Hands started to hold me down as my screaming became more frantic. I had been held down and hurt once before but couldn’t remember when or how. I just knew I had.
“Dylan, it’s Dr. Sawyer. No one is going to hurt you.” The voice was friendly. I knew it. I started to calm and stopped fighting the hands. It was my psychiatrist. She’d been in every day since I had awoken from the coma; sometimes multiple times a day. I remembered her talking to me and explaining hypnosis.
That was a memory. But why was I hurting so badly? And who was the man holding me? Was it Ethan? I fingered the locket around my neck. The only visual proof Ethan was real.
I reverberated the dream to Dr. Sawyer and her assistant. I was trying to understand the pain when she informed me that she couldn’t say when I’d been hurt. For some reason, my records were sealed. There was no proof I
even existed before I came to Knoxville for college. The rug had been pulled out from under me, and I could hardly breathe. What had happened in my past to drag up such a painful memory and have my records sealed? I hated the medicine they were giving me to stay calm as I discovered the secrets to my life, but that day I welcomed it. And within fifteen minutes of taking them, I’d passed out.
Monday, February 16, 2015
Ethan
Please talk to me
I miss you more than I ever
Realized I could miss someone
You taught me how to relax
And simply enjoy life
I finally for once felt like
I was living.
Without you, I feel dead.
I had sent a text every day since she walked out the door. Eighty-five in all. Each one was left ignored and unanswered. I wondered where she was and if she ever thought of me. The fact was I wanted her to walk through the door, climb up in my lap, and wrap herself around me. I chucked the glass I was holding across the room. I had to be in court in an hour, but all I wanted to do was go to Dylan. I needed to feel her skin and know she was okay. Where the hell was she?
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Dylan
A cock sprung free from my small hand. I held it, amazed by its smooth texture, and traced my pinky over a heavy vein that ran alongside of it. A man’s breath hitched as he twitched in my grasp. He started to guide my fingers along the entire length. “Oh, damn, that feels fucking amazing.”
I glanced up and saw the beautiful face of the man my mind wanted to hold onto smiling in total bliss. He released my grasp as I licked the head of his manhood and tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum. His eyes closed as he groaned out in pleasure. I sucked the tip into my mouth. He worked his fingers gingerly in my hair. At that moment, I knew I loved him.
Everything blurred around me as I was transferred into a rundown shack and was surrounded by unknown faces. One of them pushed me down to kneel, and as much love as I felt coming from the one man, I felt that much hate coming from every man in the room. The worst of the bunch was rough and harsh as he pulled my hair.
“Open your damn mouth, cum slut,” he spit out. I heard the name Jamie in the distance, but demon suited him. I started to panic when a sleazy man that looked like he had not bathed in weeks thrust his not-so-small erection into my face. “Let’s try that pretty little mouth out on your dick. Better she learns the value of no teeth on you.”
The dirty one placed the head of his cock against my tightly sealed lips. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the humiliation
“Dylan, Privy,” the man I knew I had loved said over and over, shaking me. I wasn’t in that rundown shack. I was with him. He stroked his thumb over my tears. He loved me too.
My feelings were a mix of jumbled emotions. For one, I was relieved and stroked my small baby bump knowing Little E was made in love. That for a moment, I was loved. Then the brutality of what I remembered and obviously lived through crushed me to my very core. I had spent my life without knowing where to turn. Being totally alone in the world was an emptiness that was indescribable. It was a feeling I would not wish on anyone. It was where I had discovered my life was. I knew that my memories would only grow harder to understand and nothing would seem right until I found Ethan. I just wanted to remember. I just wanted to know who he was and where the hell he was.
My head turned when someone knocked on the door. I sat transfixed as Deacon walked in. Everything came flooding back. I remembered my dad pushing me on a tire swing. I remembered him lying in a coffin. I remembered my mom going off the deep end. I remembered Louie. The kids at school. The gang rape. I collapsed to the floor. My whole wretched life flashed before me like an old b-rated movie. My stomach twisted. My head throbbed. I remembered everything but the one memory that would rip a hole in me. Who the sad man was. Deacon slid down beside me as I heaved tears. I wanted to turn off the swarm of memories. I yanked my hair from my scalp. No wonder my past was stored away to be forgotten. There was not one memory I wanted to relive. I started convulsing. I heard Deacon screaming, but she sounded like she was in the distance. A nurse helped me in the bed, followed by a tranquilizer to ease my ravaged nerves.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Ethan
Dylan had totally turned her back on me. I actually carried her another bouquet of primroses. I swore I heard someone shuffling around in the apartment, but no one answered the door. She must truly hate me, and it was tearing me apart inside. What I wouldn’t give to be able to just hold her precious hand in mine one more time.
When I brought Dylan to meet the family, I’d told my dad I was going to ask her to marry me. My mom even gave me my grandmother’s ring to give her. That ring had burned a hole in my pocket. Fuck Victoria, how could I ask Dylan to marry me when she wouldn’t even talk to me?
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Dylan
The past week had basically been the same. I spent my time with Danny in one grueling therapy session after another until I was bombarded with a memory. My mind was in overload with things no one should have to live through once, much less twice. I clung to every memory, however, because I knew each one brought me another step closer to discovering if the sad man was the Ethan my heart craved. The doctor said for some reason I was repressing the memory of him. She didn’t know why, but something was causing it. I let each memory play over in my head. Nothing could be worse than the thought of each one of those . . . except, if he was the one that caused all my pain. That thought hung in the air and affected every other thought I had.
Deacon bounced on the bed beside me and crossed her legs at her ankles. She had her customary life-is-a-bitch look on her face. But that day, she did something I could not ever remember her doing before, and I remembered everything concerning Deacon. She took my hand in hers.
“You look like death warmed over,” she said, and grabbed the remote, muting the television.
“Allison said the opposite last night,” I snapped back, not in the mood for any criticism.
“Well, lucky for me she has bad taste.” She laid her head on mine and clasped my hand tighter. “You miss him?”
I didn’t ask who. I already knew. I chuckled. Hell, yeah, I miss him, and I can’t even remember him. “I just want to remember.”
“I don’t know what went down before the wreck. I do know you said some crazy stuff while you were out, but you also said you loved him more than once. I think you need to talk whatever out with him, so you can heal.”
“But how?” I asked as I fiddled the sheets between my fingers.
“Let me take care of it. Write him a letter. Tell him how you’re feeling, and I’ll take care of the rest.” She clambered out of bed and yanked my hair. “Oh yeah, do you remember if you backed your cellphone up to the cloud?”
I nodded. Damn, I could remember what the cloud was but not the most important person in the world to me. “Why are you doing this? I get the impression that Sarah hates him.”
“Hate is saying it lightly, but Sarah has never loved anyone. If Allison and I ever found ourselves in this situation, I pray someone would help us.”
Monday, March 2, 2015
Dylan
I’d spent the last five days trying to get my feelings down in written form. But how can you explain your heart when you cannot even remember the man who owns it?
Ethan,
I have spent the last few days trying to find the right words.
I marked a hard, thick line through the writing and wadded the paper in my hands, tossing it across the room where it bounced off another ball of paper.
Ethan,
I don’t know what to say, so I’ll start with the facts. On November 24, 2014, I was in a wreck that left me with a crushed pelvis and shattered left leg. It also left me with amnesia. I was unconscious.
Ethan,
I’m looking for you. If you ever cared please come to The University of Tennesse
e Medical Center tonight. I’m in room 407. I’ll be waiting for you.
I folded the letter and sealed it. I couldn’t find the right words to explain my feelings, but deep down I knew when I saw him they would flow freely.
I picked up the cell phone that Deacon had replaced my old one with. I’d been so out of it, I’d not even realized that my phone was destroyed in the wreck. She had all my contacts replaced, including Ethan’s. I stared at the phone for at least an hour before I had the nerve to text him.
Hey, it’s me
Can you meet me at the Pier Tonight?
Say around six.
Hey, me
I’ll meet you anywhere.
I’ll be there at 5:30