Forget Me (Hampton Harbor) (17 page)

"Melissa," I say. I watch his eyes widen.

"Melissa." He lets the name roll off his tongue slowly.

"Missy," I whisper.

He looks down at me and genuine shock fills his face. "No. No
no no.
It isn't possible. That means..."

"I think it is," I tell him. "I've been here
before. I can feel it. I'm Melissa, or Missy, the girl your boat is named
after. You had to have known!"

I'm almost yelling and Will takes a step back. "I was fives years
old, Ja... Melissa. How could I remember that? How would I recognize you? That
was twenty years ago."

"You have to remember!" I yell at him. "That first
night we met after my accident, when you found me on this dock. You asked if I
remembered you and I should have realized it then. You knew me. You recognized
me."

Will runs his hand over his hair and the corners of his mouth pull
down. "Did you come here looking for a fight?" He crosses his arms
over his chest, and I look away for a moment. I eventually make my eyes wander
back to his. I can’t allow myself any distractions.

"You knew and you lied to me." I point at him.

"What happened?" His hands are out in front of him now.
"I thought everything was fine. Especially after the other night. Now you’re
acting, well, insane."

"Oh sure, make fun of the girl with amnesia." I brush
past him and he catches my
arm, spinning me back
around.

"You’re looking for a way out again, just like you did at the
docks last week. You’re afraid. Afraid that this can't, and won't, work. I told
you exactly how I felt Monday night, and you agreed. You agreed wholeheartedly and
told me you love me too. And now you’re backing out again?"

"Things changed," I say through a sob.

"
What
 changed?" 

"I was pregnant," I blurt out.

Will reacts as though I slapped him, and I wrap my arms around
myself. 

"That is why I was in the hospital. I lost the baby."

"And you didn't even think to say anything when I visited
you?" Will is the one yelling now, and his voice is low and hostile. I can
see tears glistening in his eyes and the sight sends lightening through my
veins, cracking my heart in half.

"I didn't know how," I respond.

"Oh, I don't know, how about
Will, I'm pregnant.
"

"Was," I correct him. "I was pregnant."

"I can't believe this." Will turns his back to me and
clasps his hands behind his neck, facing his body toward the sea.

"I'm sorry," I say through my own tears. "I never
wanted to hurt you. I never wanted anything like this to happen... I couldn't
have even imagined..."

"You need to go see Charles and Marie," Will says
suddenly, spinning toward me.

"I.... what?" I wasn't expecting that. "Why?"

"Missy," he says the name as if it doesn't correlate
with me. He has a far off look in his eyes. "Missy, if you really are her.
Missy was their granddaughter."

"What? No." Now it’s my turn to be in denial. "That
isn't possible. They would have said something. They would have told me."

Smalls detail pop into my mind.

Why did Charles even tell
about the nickname Missy?

Why would a couple take
in a homeless girl off the street? One with out memories no less?

Will is looking at me with pity now and I can no longer meet his
gaze. Charles is in the cafe right now, probably in the back office. Marie is
most likely back home, cleaning up and prepping dinner early.

"I need to see her. I need to see Marie," I say
suddenly.

"Let me take you." Will doesn't wait for an answer, he
just runs back inside to pay his bill. I wander down the boardwalk and head
toward the marina, where I know his SUV is parked. I'm halfway there by the
time he catches up with me and we walk the remaining distance in silence. The
drive from the docks to Charles and Marie's house goes too fast. I can't even
think of what I want to say to her, or what I even want to ask. When we pull up
to the house I notice that there is another car parked out front, one I've
never seen before. I make note of the rental tags as we park next to it.

"Whose car is that?" I ask Will, but he just shrugs. He
won't make eye contact with me, and as we walk toward the house he keeps a wide
space between our bodies. My heart is screaming and my mind feels
tortured. 

I step inside and I’m pretty sure that Will is going to leave, but
he surprises me by following me inside. Marie is seated at the island counter
with a mug of tea in one hand. The other taps nervously on the granite surface.

"Melissa..." she says my name as soft as a whisper.

"Is it true?" I ask. "Am I your
granddaughter?"

Marie slips off of the stool and comes to stand in front of me.
She places a gentle hand on my arm. "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I step away from her touch.
"All this time you've known."

I think back to the moment I woke up from the accident and how
kind and caring Charles and Marie were. How unusual it felt that I found a
couple willing to take me in and were supportive of my need to recall my identity
on my own. Now I realize that they knew my identity all along, and they were
just playing along.

"You called two days before your accident, saying that you
were coming to visit. We hadn't seen you in almost twenty years, Melissa. You
were upset when you called and we knew that we were going to help you, however
you needed it. You hadn't even come into the cafe to say hello before you had
your accident. We just saw you fall out on the dock. I knew it was you though,
as soon as I saw you."

She clasps her hands in from of her, tears brimming her eyes.

"So it's true?" Will says from beside me.

"I thought for sure you would recognize her at first,"
Marie tells us. "But then you didn't, and I couldn't seem to tell either
of you the truth. Watching you together.... it was like watching you play as
children. It was like fate had brought you back together for a second chance at
friendship."

“My pregnancy. Did you know?” I croak.

Marie shakes her head quickly. “Your mother, our daughter, has
kept you from us. Everything about you. I’ve missed birthdays, holidays,
everything.” Tears wet her cheeks. “I almost didn’t recognize you when you
showed up. It’s been so long.”

"But this morning, I talked to Charles outside. I told him that
I’m ready to discover who I am. He could have told me then." My tone is
filled with anger and bitterness.

"Melissa," Marie says. "That’s because he had
already made contact with someone looking for you. Once we heard you were in
the hospital, we knew we needed to get a hold of your family. We owed them at
least that."

"Who? Who did you contact?" My palms suddenly feel
clammy and I wipe them on my shorts.

"Me," a harsh voice says from the stairwell.

Chills run up my spine and I turn to face her. She is wearing a
light blue dress and nude pumps. She is carrying my
packed
 black duffel bag. She has dyed auburn hair and pearl
earrings. She is a woman I would know anywhere.

I stifle a gasp. 

"Mom."

The four of us are
silent for thirty seconds. One minute. Two minutes.

My mom's judgmental glare bores through me and I'm filled with
thoughts and memories of all the times she gave me that same look. When I
didn't make honor roll, when I decided to quit soccer, when I started dating
Jason.

Jason
.

My mind is reeling. Who is he?

"Melissa," my mother says my name with distaste as she
walks across the room, her heels
 
making
a
click-clack
sound the entire
way. 

"Mom," I say the word again.

"It's time to go home." She holds out my black duffel
bag and I instinctively take it from her.

“Grace," Marie says soothingly. "Stay. Let's talk about
this."

I'm hit with realization after realization with each minute that
passes. The Grace Cafe. The lanterns to light the way home. Charles and Marie's
daughter who never visits. That's my mom.

"There is nothing to talk about. I think you've done
enough," my mom spits at Marie. My grandmother. "I'm surprised I
didn't think of it sooner; Melissa coming to the one place I despise most in
the world. I should have known."

She shoots me another glare and I tense up. Will is completely
still beside me, and out of the corner of my eyes I can see his deep frown and
furrowed brows.

"Maybe Melissa doesn't want to leave," he says coolly.
"She's an adult. She can make her own decisions."

 
My mom gives Will a
once over and wrinkle her nose. "Who are you?"

"William Davey," he responds.

"Ah," she says back. "Jim's son."

Her blue eyes track over to mine.

"Can we speak alone, Melissa?"

I just nod, not able to utter a single word.

Marie
approaches us slowly and places a hand on my mom’s arm. My mom recoils but
Marie doesn’t falter.

“Grace.
Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

What does that mean?

Marie disappears out back, and Will exits through the front door.
I'm fearful that he is going to leave me here, all alone, but I can't blame
him. I'm still standing in the same spot, clutching my duffel bag to my
abdomen, when my mom steps inches from me. She is eye level with me, and I can
see the disappointment and anger etched across her face.

"I sent them away so as not to embarrass myself
or
you," she hisses at me. "My
mother filled me in a little on your situation, so I'm going to give you a pass
on your childish antics and disrespect, but it is time to come home. There is
nothing for you here."

"Will is here," I speak before I think. My voice is
quivering.

My mom steps back and grab my left hand, turning it flat and palm
down. She inspects my fingers.

"Where are your rings?" she asks.

I look down at my hand. "What rings? I wasn't wearing any
jewelry when Charles and Marie found me, unless it fell into the water."

My mom frowns. “I probably should have told my parents when it
happened, but then I would have had to invite them.”

"When what happened? Invite them to
what
?" I'm tired of asking question after question. Is it so
hard for anyone to just give me a straight answer from the start?

"Your wedding. You’re married, Melissa."

I drop my bag and back up against the door, clutching my chest.

"No. No no no no no no," I say over and over again
through the tears streaming down my cheeks. They roll onto my shirt and splash
onto the wood floor beneath me. 

"Oh yes, very much so," my mom says. "It's time to
come home to your family."

"Why isn't he here?" I ask suddenly. "My
husband."

The word sounds foreign as it leaves my lips.

"Because he is busy earning a living and keeping up with
every other task you left behind. He wanted to come when he found out where you
were, but I knew that it would be better if I came here. It's my fault this is
where you ran in the first place."

“How
can I be married?” I ask her, even though I know it’s a dumb question.

My mom crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently. "There
will be time for questions later, Melissa. My mother has told me that you are
starting to get your memories back, and with the help of the best doctors back
in Chicago, we should be able to quicken the process. You'll soon be able to
answer your own questions."

"Chicago," I repeat her. "We are going to Chicago?"

"Well of course." She waves a hand in the air.

I look at the floor, the wood grain blurred through the onslaught
of tears.

Chicago.