Book of Days: A Novel (34 page)

"I sure hope the two of you feel that way." Tricia's smile almost turned to laughter. "If you hadn't figured that out, I'd have worried you weren't as bright as I thought."

CHAPTER 31

Two Years, Six Months Earlier

Cameron's Christmas present to Jessie that year had been a trip to Disneyland with another couple. All four had gone nonstop from the time the gates opened each morning till the fireworks of brilliant greens, blues, and reds exploded over Cinderella's castle each night. The lines were long but they worked their Fast Passes with precision, and by the end of third day, they were all wiped out but basked in the fun of being kids again.

"Great memories," one of the men said as they strolled toward Disneyland's Main Street on their way back to the hotel.

"I'll never forget this trip," his wife added.

"But we won't remember every moment of our lives, will we?" Jessie asked.

"Not all. We'll cut out the boring parts, but we'll definitely remember the highlights," Cameron said.

"So where do our memories go when we forget them or . . . when we die?"

"Oh boy," chimed in the other man. "Look out, Jessie's going deep again."

Cameron's smile faded. He'd said almost the same words to his dad the last time he saw him six years earlier.

"Where do the memories go?" the wife of the other couple said. "I thought everyone knew they went to Tasmania."

The other couple laughed. Cameron didn't and stopped walking.

Jessie stopped as well, but the other couple kept moseying along, plunking blue cotton candy into their mouths.

"Are you all right?"

"Great." She forced a smile and bonked Cameron on the head with her Mickey Mouse balloon.

"Wow, I like that, keep doing it please."

Jessie slumped onto a bench, a statue of Walt a few yards behind her, and Cameron slid down beside her and wrapped her in his arms.

"What's going on? Are you bummed because Pirates was shut down this trip?"

"I'm fine, Cam, really."

"And I'm Goofy, really."

She pulled her Mickey balloon into her chest. "Maybe God writes our memories down, hmm?"

As Cameron crossed his leg, the loss of his father welled up in his heart. Yeah it would be wonderful if God did.

He missed his dad so much. His laugh, his kindness, his quirky sense of humor. Where were his dad's memories? When he was losing his mind, did the memories float into nothingness, or were they stored somewhere for eternity?

Cameron hadn't thought about his last conversation with his dad in months, maybe a year. A book with all days in it. He sighed. If only it were true.

A hundred years from now, even fifty, would anyone remember his dad answering his phone at home with "Joe's Bar and Grill, Joe speaking"?

Would they remember the swimming contest he had with his best friend's son in the community park? Would they recall the banner hanging over the pool that said, Old Age and Wisdom Beats Youth and Hair Every Time?

"Sitting in this park where make-believe comes true, you could almost convince me your God does exactly that. I wish He did."

Jessie turned and looked over his shoulder toward the lights of Space Mountain. "What if it's true? What if it could be more than a wish? What if He does write down what happens in our lives, in everyone's life?"

"Like some cosmic high-school yearbook put together by the supreme being of the universe?"

"Something like that." She turned away.

Cameron shook his head and gave what he imagined was a melancholy smile. Jessie sure could stretch her imagination beyond the confines of normal human cogitation. "I love your insanity. One of the countless reasons I'll love you for eternity."

He watched the back of her head, the breeze making her hair wave like ribbons, waiting for her to look up at him.

"Baby?" Cameron reached out and touched her elbow.

Still no turn back.

"What is it?" He shifted till he saw her face. A pair of tears wound their way down her tanned cheeks. "Talk to me."

"Life is so short."

"Not for us. Twenty-eight now means you're stuck with me for a least another fifty years. Maybe sixty."

"So short."

Her hands were cold as he took them.

"Why are you saying that?"

"I'm okay, really." Smiling, she took his hands and placed them on her cheeks. "I'll tell you later, okay?"

"How about telling me now?"

She stood and offered her hand. Cameron took it, raised her long fingers to his lips, and kissed them.

"Just promise me you'll remember this conversation, okay?"

"I will. Always and forever."

CHAPTER 32

Cameron sat in Java Jump Start on Saturday morning tapping his foot in double-time waiting for Ann to arrive, wishing for a better camera than the one on his cell phone. One iPhone with a two-year contract? $99. A Three Peaks white chocolate mocha? $3.75. The look on Ann's face when he told her what he'd found? Priceless.

He sipped his drink and skimmed a brochure on white-water river rafting and another one on joining Broken Top, apparently one of the premier private golf courses in the area.

Where was she?

He glanced at his watch again.

Five minutes later Ann walked in with a knowing smile. She winked at him and ordered what sounded like an extra hot caramel macchiato.

After getting her drink, she slid into the dark brown chair next to Cameron. "I had a riveting dinner last night with Taylor and Tricia Stone."

"And I had a fascinating search party with Arnold Peasley." He toasted her with his cup. "Do you want to go first?"

"Sure, even though I can tell you're about ready to explode."

"Guilty as charged. But I promise to contain myself."

"I'll give you the headlines. First, Tricia confirmed that Taylor definitely knows more than he's telling about the Book of Days, and second, when I showed them my mom's photo, Taylor just about had a heart attack. He actually got up and left the room right after I pulled out the picture. I asked Tricia about it, and she said me describing that photo convinced her of something she suspected from the moment she first saw me."

"That's it?"

Ann flicked him on the forehead with her ring finger.

"Hey, that hurts!"

"Good." Ann took a drink of her caramel macchiato. "What do you mean 'that's it?'"

"I was trying to be funny."

Ann gave him a plastic smile.

"You want to hear about my visit with Arnold?" He folded his hands and leaned forward on the table.

She nodded.

"We didn't do any digging."

"You mean he wouldn't let you look, or he didn't have any papers from the sixties?"

"I mean, we didn't
have
to do any digging. Not only did he have the papers, old Pease went right to the three papers in question so quick I think he should rename himself Dewey."

"What?"

"Dewey Decimal, don't you remember that from library when you were a kid?"

"You're getting off track, Cameron. Tell me what you found."

"Right, we were talking about . . ." His mind went blank. Was it libraries? Why would he and Ann be talking about libraries? He took a long drink of his white chocolate mocha as the bowling ball returned to his gut. It was a nice slice of pop psychology to tell himself not to worry about the future because life could end at any time. But it didn't work so well when the loss of his mind made living in the present a nightmare.

He grabbed the edge of the table. Tight. Maybe it was time to see a doctor. Find out if his memories were disappearing because of stress or because his mind was truly—

"Do you want me to insert a drum roll here?" Ann said. "Are you thinking drawing out the suspense will make it more exciting when you tell me?"

Think!
He was telling her about . . . basketball? No, was it? Someone who used to play . . . Peasley! Arnold's newspapers. Yes. The article from the sixties.

"Are you sweating?"

He wiped his forehead with a napkin and tried to smile. "Coffee that's too hot always does that to me."

"So are you going to tell me about what you found?"

Yes, he would tell her. And she would know about her history. And then they would find the book. His memories would return and his mind would be healed.
Now snap out of it. Focus on Ann. Upbeat. This will rock her world.

"Are all four legs of your chair securely on the floor?"

"You think this is going to knock me over?"

"It might." He leaned in on his elbows. "Thanks to Arnold, I know who your mother was, who your grandmother was, along with a few of your other relatives."

"Are you kidding?"

"You ready for this?"

"Tell me!" Ann punched Cameron in the arm.

"Your mom's maiden name was Coffee, spelled just like the drink, right?"

"Right."

He waited for her to react but Ann sat with eyebrows raised, as if asking why this was a revelation.

"I don't hear any bells going off yet."

"And your grandmother was named Josephine. Last name Coffee."

"Okay." Ann still didn't react. The anticipation on her face remained.

Was she in shock or not surprised? How could she not be surprised?

"You're acting like this should mean something to me."

"Don't you get it? Coffee."

Ann held her hands wide with a bewildered look on her face. "I'm sorry; I'm still missing a piece of the puzzle."

"Annie's maiden name was Coffee."

"Taylor's Annie?" Ann's face went white and she covered her eyes. "Oh my gosh. Are you saying . . . Annie is my aunt?" She said it half as a statement, half as a question. "She was my mom's sister."

"Yes."

"That means . . . Taylor Stone is . . . my—" Cameron nodded as Ann fell back in her chair and clunked her drink to the faux marble table. "He's my uncle."