Always In: The Shore Series Book 2 (26 page)

"It's okay. You are a wonderful dad and he needs you. I have dinner with my family then I'll stop over afterward if that's okay?" He kisses the tip of my nose.

"That would be the second highlight of my day thus far." He grabs his things and I walk him down to the front door.

I open the door and he turns to me and gives me a kiss of epic proportions. I lick my lips and savor the taste of his lips. As soon as the door closes and he leaves, the guilt comes back.

Why can't my life be simple? Why can't I fall in love and have a family and be happy? Why did my past lead me to this? If I beat up myself any more I'll go back to being the girl in the emotional shell. The one Willow always reminds me about. The girl I once was. But how do I let go of this guilt? How do I move forward? In some ways, my shell was a safer place to inhabit, but I know I can’t go back there. I need to live. I need to feel. I need to keep moving on. But how?

***

After texting back the girls and telling them they need to come over, I hop in the shower, attempting to wash away my demons. There's something to be said about trying to rid yourself of demons; it doesn't work. I could scrub my body till it's raw and red, but I can't cleanse what happened in my head or what I felt in my heart. All I can do is cry and my tears are painful because I know what's happening.

I’m falling in love with Daniel, and remembering loving Cruz.

I get dressed and go downstairs to make a cup of tea while I wait for the girls. They come in and meet me at my kitchen table.

I tell them about the whole night. The car, the picnic, the movie, the making out like teenagers.

Thea looks at me from across the table with stars in her eyes.

"Sounds so perfect to me. So romantic."

Willow, on the other hand, looks bored to tears.

"Ugh, you would, Thea. I need to hear the play-by-play, the literal blow-by-blow, the deets. How big, how…small. Was he good? Did he spank your arse?"

I throw a dish towel at her face.

Then I let go and cry. Actually, what I do isn't even considered crying; it's wailing I think. I put my head down onto the table, my arms quickly soaked by my tears.

I feel the girls’ hands on my shoulders.

"Oh my God, Har. Why are you crying like this? Thea get something for her snot."

I lift my head up and Thea wipes my face with a tissue and I choke back a sob.

"Didn't you have a good time? You did have sex with him, right?" Willow turns and says gently.

"Ye...yeah.... I did and it was incredible and passionate and loving and gentle and anything else you want to call it. It was freaking magical."

They both look at me confused and waiting for the reason why I’m so upset.

"Okay, well, um sounds perfect," Thea says quietly.

"It was perfect, he's perfect! Everything was the most perfect thing I think I have ever experienced in my life. But...."

Thea rubs my back as I blow my nose.

"But I had another dream."

"Oh, shit," Willow says solemnly.

"You're telling me. Oh, shit."

Thea goes and gets more tissues and hands them to me. "So it was a memory? Of Cruz?"

"I wasn't su...sure," I sniffle out. "We were having sex in the dream but I didn't know it was him until he called me Turnip, then it all went to shit when I woke up."

Willow gets her chair and turns it to mine so we are knee to knee and take my hands in hers.

"You need to explain why it all turned to shit when you woke up. The dream was over. Did you have sex with him again this morning?" I nod yes.

"And did you call Cruz's name out or something like that during it?"

I look up at her through my tears. "Worse than that?"

Her eyes grow wide with curiosity. "Worse than calling out another man’s name during sex? What could be worse than that?"

I straighten up in my chair and wipe under my swollen eyes with my thumbs and sniff.

"When he was fucking me, I imagined it was Cruz and I had an orgasm."

Silence blankets the room. Just silence. I don't even know if the two of them are breathing. Thea and Willow on either side of me, jaws wide open, but not a sound coming from either of them. God, I wish I had my phone next to me so I can capture this moment. A speechless Willow Taylor.

"Are you two going to say anything or just sit here and stare at me like two idiots?"

I go back to crying and they both hug me. I sob as they wrap their arms around me and tell me that's it's okay.

I have a hard time wrapping my head around that though.
It’s so not okay.

"Maybe you need to mention these dreams to Dr. Goldberg. He may have some insight as to how and why you are having them all of the sudden."

Thea is right. Dr. Goldberg is the person with the answers to my dilemma, or at least he might be.

Willow stands and pulls me up along with her. She holds my face and grins at me.

"Okay, so for now, let's just wait and see what Dr. Goldberg has to say and in the meantime, here's a few things. For one, you got laid. Congrats. I’m glad it was phenomenal. Second, in two weeks it's Halloween and Jax is having a huge party and it's a masked costume party that means you have to wear a mask or you can't get in. This will be a diversion to look forward to. Fun. So Sandy Cove, here we come. We will just go as our crowd and have fun as we have known how to for years. And lastly, never underestimate your best friend. She knows everything there is to know about lady's undergarments."

I love Willow, I really do. I get that she is trying to get me out of my funk, but I don’t know how I am going to face Daniel next week. Why is this so hard?

***

I spent the past week trying to go on as normal as possible. I did have dinner with my family minus Craw who was cramming for a test. I got to spend time with baby Avery and helped Greta finalize some plans for the baby's christening. Oddly, they do include Cruz. I did see him once since the latest dream. He was writing someone a ticket. I drove by and gave a quick wave. He waved back and when I looked in my rearview mirror, he was staring at my car as I drove away. The highlights of the week? Yes, I went to see poor sick little Henry Mathewson that night. He had me read
The Giving Tree
about ten times. I saw nothing wrong with this. By the tenth time, his fever medication kicked in and he was fast asleep. I didn't stay long but long enough to have a quick make-out session with Daniel in my car before I left. The man can kiss. I mean
really
kiss. The school week came and I saw Daniel a few times a day. He was still pretending to borrow strange things from me in my classroom. One time even asking to borrow a stick of gum. Really? A stick of gum. I think he may be losing his touch.

Nah.

We talk at lunch with Willow and Craw almost every day and after school he comes to my classroom and walks me to my car. I went over there Wednesday night. His sister, whom I have not yet met, was at a dance class. We talk every night. About everything and anything. I could listen to his voice and never get tired of it. His accent and the way he tries to talk American slang is hysterical. I say vacation, he says holiday. I say bar, he says pub. I say underwear and he says knickers. Dear Lord when he says knickers it does things to my insides.

I told him about the accident. I told him all about Chad getting off and my family’s decision to fight the dropped charges. He knows my dad went into his own law practice after a family disagreement. When he asked about it, I played the coma and amnesia card. I did that too when he asked about the story before the accident. Why I would go on a boat with someone I hated so much. The details about what happened right before that are only ones someone else told me about. I don't recall what happened before that. So really I only played the coma card once. Yes, I felt guilty for not mentioning Cruz.

My dreams. They have been pretty quiet except for one. It wasn't sexual, it was actually fun. I was on a Ferris wheel on the boardwalk and I could feel an arm around me and I could see bright flashing lights from the other rides when my cart reached the top. I could feel the wind whip at my face and could smell the ocean. I’ve read that you can't smell things in your dreams. I beg to differ. I smell. It comes at me in bursts. The salty air, the popcorn, the cotton candy on the boardwalk - I smell it all. I feel the wind. I feel a touch. In my dream I met a pair of blue eyes, not amber-brown. I knew who it was. I chose to try and put it to the back of my mind.

I said I tried.

I sit in Dr. Goldberg's office feeling anxious. I want some answers if he has them. When he enters, he shakes my hand and sits at his big mahogany desk I’ve become so familiar with.

"So, Harlow, last time we talked you were down to two physical therapy appointments per week. How's that going?"

"I’m good. I mean I feel good. I’m not using my crutch, but I do have a limp still. I may always have it."

"And work?"

I smile when he mentions work because it reminds me of Daniel.

"Work is great. I have no complaints. It's the dream job."

"Glad to hear it. And mentally? How have you been handling some of your memories floating back?" I don't answer him.

He looks at me curiously and taps his pen on his desk.

"Harlow, you seem a little out of sorts today. Is there anything you'd like to discuss specifically?"

Dr. Goldberg is like a mind reader. I take in a big breath and let it out.

"Dr. Goldberg, I have a question about dreams and amnesia."

He nods and urges me to continue.

"With the type of amnesia I have, is it possible to have a memory in a dream? I mean, dream about it but it actually happened? In real life?"

Dr. Goldberg puts his pen down and leans into his desk. He links his hands together and places them on the desk.

"So do you think that's what's happening?"

I nod and he eases back into his big leather chair.

"You know, Harlow, dreams can be complicated. Their true meanings are a mystery, no matter how many books attempt to decipher and attest otherwise. Our subconscious is a very tricky thing. Studies are providing much insight about the brain and its functions. In my opinion, and from a medical standpoint, it could very well be true depending on the scenario of the dream. In the case of your Retrograde Amnesia, yes, it's possible. Have you experienced a memory besides the pizza incident during the waking hours?"

I tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear nervously as I remember the few things that have come back.

"Yes, I have. They are becoming more vivid, so clear. It scares me a little."

"Anything in particular that you want to discuss?"

Jeez, do I tell Dr. Goldberg about the sex dreams I’ve had about Cruz? That would be a big, fat no. But I need some kind of clarification that my dreams are actually memory bursts indicating I’m starting to remember Cruz and me together.

"Dr. Goldberg, I feel kind of, well sort of weird about the things I’m remembering. Things are coming back slowly and in patches so to speak."

"Go on," he urges.

"Okay...well, um. Say there was someone from the past and they were a significant part of your life and you don't remember them—" He interrupts me momentarily and raises an eyebrow.

"Are you referring to anyone in particular?"

I feel the heat creep up my chest into my cheeks.

"Yes," I reply quietly.

"I see." And he jots something down in his notes.

Nervous tension fills me. What the hell is he writing down? He taps the pen on the desk and rubs his chin with his hands, just waiting for me to spill the beans. My knee bounces up and down and I twirl my hands in my lap. I’m going mad here.

"Jesus, okay already. I’ve had memories of Cruz, like
memories
, if you know what I mean, and they all aren't like what you think. Some I’ve had during sleep, others I’ve had fully awake and aware, and it scares me to death."

His brows furl. "Why does it scare you so much?"

Tear fill my eyes as I’m not really sure why.

"Because they are so clear, so vivid. I feel so much in my dreams and I’m scared because I know it was all true, all real. It's scary to me to be able to feel so much in them. Do I sound crazy to you, Dr. Goldberg?"

He chuckles and closes my file, no longer writing, and places his hands upon the top of it.

"Oh, Harlow. Trust me, I’m a psychiatrist and I have been one for many, many years and I’ve seen and heard it all. So the answer is, no I don't think you're crazy. I think that inside your deep subconscious mind, the one that was damaged, it's now allowing the memories to trickle back little by little. I could give you all the scientific terms and all that mumbo jumbo, but I won’t. I’m just going to give it to you straight."

Dr. Goldberg clears his throat and leans into his desk again. He looks serious but in a kind, gentle manner.

"When you met Cruz and began a relationship with him, something changed in you. Being your doctor, I saw it. I made note of it, several notes actually. When you began to see me, you were caught in this world of not feeling protected, not feeling loved, not feeling worthy of love and able to be loved. Your relationship with Cruz changed that. The brain is a mysterious part of the body. We can study it all we want, gather so much data, and think we know all there is to know about it. When the truth is, everyone’s is different. Every brain is different. We have no idea when a person with Retrograde Amnesia will regain memory resolution because no two brains are the same."

He sits back in his chair, takes a sip of his tea, and looks back over the desk at me. A pleasant smile adorns his face.

"When someone in your life makes that much of an impact on your existence, it's hard to forget. Even a brain with Amnesia has it locked away for safe keeping." Dr. Goldberg taps his finger on his temple. "It's okay to remember things about you and Cruz. The manifested content of a dream as opposed to the latent content that it conceals holds far greater power than not. It's okay to let yourself go. You can go ahead and feel for him again. Maybe even find love again if that's what you want."