In This Life (13 page)

“No,
mawat
.” Bakari looked at me and rolled his eyes. He slid out from her grasp and stared at her, and I held my breath. I knew what he was going to say before he even said it. “Who says I want to be a general anyway?”

“Bite your tongue, Bakari!” Her hands went to her hips. “Your father is a general, and his father was a general. Every male in this family has served the royal family and its army, and so will you.”

“But — ”

“Get back to your studies, Bakari. Now.”

Bakari scowled and I felt sad. I wanted to spend the afternoon with him. We did not have many days left together before he would leave the royal court and my life for good, and before my own future would be sealed when my brother took the throne and found me someone to marry.

“Yes,
mawat
,” Bakari said. “I will return to class.”

His shoulders slumped and he trudged away with a loud sigh. Hebeny headed in the other direction, back to our village and the royal court in the center of it. I watched her disappear over a small hill and into the valley in the distance, and then turned and watched the ripples in the water. It was going to be lonely here when Bakari was gone.

Mad, I kicked a pebble into the river and watched a school of fish scurry away. Maybe I had made a mistake in not swimming with him, dangerous as it could have been. But could-have-been did not always mean definitely-would-be, and I had lost out on a wonderful chance to —

Bakari came charging out of the brush, grabbed me by the arm and hurtled the both of us into the river. We flopped over each other, splashed each other, and laughed until our sides hurt, and not once did I complain about crocodiles or my wet sheath. We never did make it back to wherever we should have been that day, and we both paid the price to our parents when we returned home for Last Meal. But my punishment of having to translate ten scrolls in two days had been worth it.

The vision of glittering water and sunbaked sand disappeared, and David was looking at me, his eyes as green as the thin-leafed reeds that edged the river in my memory.

He sat down beside me and brushed my hair from my face. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I saw another memory.”

“About Galen?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “This memory was about you.”

I was looking at David and trying to tie in the boy from my memory to the man I knew and loved now and couldn’t find a connection. I’d known David since he was two and I was one, and nothing I’d seen in that vision even came close to the childhood we shared.

“This doesn’t make sense,” I said.

Paul squatted down in front of me. “What happened?”

I hesitated, still trying to get my own head around what I had experienced. I recounted the episode slowly as I carefully pulled at the entangled threads of my past and present, separating them in my mind as I went.

“But that wasn’t my childhood,” David said when I finished.

“Except for the part about you always getting into trouble?” I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t.”

“My mother’s name isn’t Hebeny. It’s Rita. And who are Bakari and Shemei?”

“I don’t know.”

I sat up, teased by a vague and formless mental picture filled with carefree, happy emotions that hinted of another life I couldn’t identify.

“Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way, Lottie,” David said. “Maybe these aren’t memories after all.”

“That’s a very strong possibility,” Paul said.

“No.” I pushed off the sofa, determined to find answers, and faced them. “These are memories. I’m sure of it because I can feel it in here,” I said, pointing to my heart. “And I know it in here,” I added, pointing to my head.

David came to me. “But that wasn’t me, Lottie. I know how I grew up, and so do you, so how can these be memories if I didn’t live any part of what you’ve just told me?”

“It wasn’t a story, David.”

“And that wasn’t my childhood.”

“But I was
there
. We both were
there
.”

“Maybe you should sit down, Lottie,” Paul suggested. “Get some rest.”

“Neither of you understands any of this. Or me.”

I strode out of the den and ran up the stairs to the spare bedroom we used as an office. David followed, and Paul came in seconds later.

“What are you doing?” David asked as I powered up the computer and launched a browser and a search engine.

“Looking.”

“For what?”

“Explanations,” I said. “Clarifications.” Anything.

My fingers flew over the keyboard and I plugged in the names and details I remembered, then watched the search engine kick back results. None of them were helpful.

I slumped in the chair, feeling even more confused. “These are all Egyptian websites,” I said. “Why do my memories link to Egyptian history and narrative?”

Paul shifted on his feet and his silence started bothering me.

“You’re thinking something,” I said. “What is it?”

Paul exchanged a look with David, and David nodded. “I’d like to suggest a couple of counseling sessions,” Paul said. “I think they will be helpful to you right now. I have time tomorrow afternoon and I’d be more than happy to spend it with you.”

“My God. You think I’m crazy. That I’ve lost my mind.”

“Lottie — ”

“It’s true. Isn’t it?”

When Paul didn’t answer, I turned on David. “You’ve known me for my entire life, David. Answer me. It’s the least you can do.” I squeezed the armrests and held my breath, angry and irritated that I couldn’t get through.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that Paul’s suggestion is a good one.”

All the air escaped from the room and my lungs, and I tried steeling myself against a sudden and potent surge of self-doubt.

“Lottie,” David said in a soft voice, “I can understand that you’re feeling confused.”

“Now you’re patronizing me.”

“No, I’m not. We can talk about this but that can only happen if you settle down.”

I shoved out of the chair and started for the door and my bedroom down the hall. “You’re not listening to me!”

“Lottie!”

I felt David hard on my heels, trying to stop me. I dodged his grip before he could take hold.

“Leave me alone,” I said, slamming the bedroom door in his face. It was childish behavior and I didn’t care. I only wanted to be taken seriously. I only wanted them to understand.

I paced the bedroom then shrugged out of my dress and threw on a yellow T-shirt and striped girlie boxers and got into bed. Every now and then, I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and watched time tick away until David came in nearly thirty minutes later.

He stripped and slid into bed next to me. “You want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.”

“I understand that you’re upset,” David said, rolling away, “but next time you might want to consider giving me a little more credit than you did tonight.”

“Only if you can do the same,” I said, and I rolled away from him, too.

David’s side of the bed was cold and empty when the alarm went off for work the next morning. I took a quick shower, fixed my hair and makeup and slipped into a pale blue blouse, floral skirt and sandals. When I entered the kitchen, David greeted me with a guarded look.

He pointed to the fresh, dark brew in the coffeemaker. “High test, if you need it. And if you’re in the mood, I also picked up fresh bagels after my run this morning.”

I noticed that David was freshly shaven and had traded his running gear for a black tee and a pair of jeans. I spied the brown bag on the counter, peeked inside, grabbed a sesame bagel and took a few bites. It was still warm and smelled like a small slice of heaven. David’s tablet was on the kitchen table, open to the latest news. I picked it up and browsed through it.

David kept watching me. “I want to talk,” he said.

I put down the tablet.

He put down his coffee. “What got into you last night?”

“Neither of you believed me and, quite frankly, I got angry. I deserve better.”

“That wasn’t angry. That was … ” He stopped, thought for a few moments, and shook his head. “You were acting weird, Lottie. You know it as well as I do.”

We both sat at the table, neither looking at the other, and the psychologist in me imagined what another psychologist would have construed from our body language. We may have only sat three feet apart from each other, but it could just as easily have been three hundred.

David downed what was left in his mug, set it on the table, and focused all his energy on me. “Regardless of what’s right or wrong or real, you didn’t behave like yourself last night. I have no idea where the behavior came from, but it was childish and rude and I didn’t deserve it.”

“I wanted to be heard and understood,” I said. “And that wasn’t happening.”

“What did you expect, Lottie? The story you told made no sense because that’s just what it sounded like. A story.”

“It’s a memory. I don’t know how else to get this through to you.”

“And if the situation was reversed and it was me telling you all of this, what would you be thinking?”

I’d thought of that before and didn’t have an answer.

“I tried to be patient and listen, Lottie. I tried working with you and understanding what you’re going through. And the ironic part is, just when I agreed that Paul should come here and help, you had a meltdown and slammed a door in my face. I’m not kidding when I say that I came this close to sleeping in the spare bedroom last night.

“You’ve been reminding me lately about how far we’ve come as a couple, but last night I felt like we were children all over again. So just how far do you want me to go? How much do you want me to take without saying a word, despite the fact that we’ve promised each other over and over again to be honest with each other? Because after last night, I’m not so sure what the hell is going on and I’m not sure how much patience I have left. I gave it everything I had and I still got treated like crap.”

In my heart I knew he was right and yet I still felt like he didn’t understand, and nothing seemed to make a difference no matter how hard I tried. David didn’t believe me. No one, it seemed, believed me, and I desperately wanted to change that.

I checked my watch and used the time as an excuse to end the conversation. “I have to go to work.”

David grabbed my hand. “We’re not going to ignore this. This isn’t going to disappear just because you have to go to work.”

“I know.” Of course, I knew.

But how I desperately wanted to make him see. And maybe I was asking for too much. Maybe I was pushing the limits of a man who viewed life so differently from me that he couldn’t believe what couldn’t so easily be believed.

I disengaged from David, recognizing that he wasn’t wired that way and never would be. And, for the first time in years, it felt disappointing.

I grabbed my bag and keys and David walked me to the garage. Like always, he watched me pull out of the driveway but this time we didn’t kiss each other goodbye. By the time I pulled into Amrose’s parking lot, my head was full of David and everything unresolved between us and I was grateful for the steady flow of clients on my calendar. Anything that would help me keep him off my mind.

By the time noon rolled around and I had seen three clients, I felt hungry and ready for a break. While I was debating what to eat and from where, Alicia called from the front desk.

“Mrs. Reynolds is here to see you,” she said.

“Are you sure?” I checked my cell phone, thinking that someone slotted her into my calendar and forgot to tell me. But she wasn’t there.

Alicia responded with silence. She never made a mistake with clients or appointments, and she didn’t make one this time either. “Shall I send her in?” she asked.

I sank in my chair, wondering why Mrs. Reynolds changed her mind about meeting with me now. “Yes, please.”

A minute later, Mrs. Reynolds appeared at the doorframe and took a few steps inside. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a tight knot, her green Gucci dress looked brand new, and the small smile on her face seemed gentle and apologetic.

“Is this a good time?” she asked.

“Certainly.” I gestured to the sofa and made my way to meet her there.

“No, thank you,” she said. “I won’t be long.” She took a few more tentative steps inside. “I thought about our conversation the other day and I would like to arrange some sessions with you.”

“I’d be more than happy to arrange counseling with you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“Do you have something available right away?”

“You can check with Alicia at the reception desk. She handles all of my appointments.”

Mrs. Reynolds seemed pleased with the suggestion. “I will do that. Thank you.”

She lingered in the doorway.

“Is there something else you want to talk about?” I asked.

“No.” Then she turned and left, the remnants of her Chanel perfume trailing behind her.

The scent intensified, then changed, and I no longer smelled Chanel but something deeper. More powerful. My servant was at my side, rubbing myrrh and sweet wine on my arms and legs. She asked me if I enjoyed the new oils. I told her that I did.

Kesi.

The woman’s name surfaced from my unconscious mind and I knew that the voice I heard, the hands I felt on my body, belonged to her.

The memory disappeared and I hurried down the hall to Alicia, catching her in the middle of a phone call.

“Did Mrs. Reynolds make any appointments with you?” I asked.

Alicia disconnected the call and gave me a blank look. “Appointments for what?”

“She said she wanted to arrange therapy. Didn’t she stop by to see you?”

“I was at the printer for a few minutes and wasn’t watching the reception area,” Alicia said. “If she came back here, she definitely didn’t wait for me.”

I blew out a sigh, knowing I shouldn’t have been surprised but feeling it all the same. I spun around, headed down the hall, found Paul’s open door and strode inside. Paul looked up from his computer when I walked in.

“Something’s very wrong, Paul.”

And I felt pretty certain that it was with me.