Indulgence (218 page)

“Doesn’t sound like it ended well for the Jeep.”

“Nope; it’s totaled.”

I strained my mind, trying to imagine my Jeep flipping
through an intersection in an attempt to recall the accident. I came up empty.
I didn’t remember where I was driving to or from, or hitting my brakes, or
anything for that matter. “That’s not what I was asking about, though.” I
wasn’t really interested in the details of my accident; I was thinking about my
husband. “What happened to Matt?”

“Oh,” Jenna said. She stared straight ahead at the road,
almost concentrating too hard on driving. “Um, well, he was working at the
stamping plant repairing one of the presses which stamps out car parts.
Apparently the machine wasn’t locked out properly. He was rushed to the
hospital but there was nothing they could do for him.”

I winced as she recited her abbreviated version of the
accident. I appreciated her sparing me the gory details. I could only imagine
that he was working inside the press when someone accidentally started it back
up. It had to have been horrific. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, not wanting
to think about the pain he must have been in. If there was a God, hopefully He
took Matt without much suffering. I looked out the side window, trying to hold
back tears. “Oh,” was all I could say.

So he was really gone and I couldn’t remember any of it. I
knew my best friend wouldn’t lie about this, but it still seemed impossible.
Even with a serious injury to my head, I should have been able to remember
something of my husband’s passing. And if I couldn’t recall it on my own, I
should at least remember something as Jenna spoke of it. A significant event
like that should be recallable no matter what.

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked, still staring out the
window.

“Sure, what?”

“Can you take me to the cemetery? So I can visit Matt?”

Jenna continued staring straight ahead, focused like a laser
beam.

“Please?” I asked.

“That’s not possible.”

“What do you mean, that’s not possible? He’s dead, isn’t he?
He must be buried somewhere.”

“Yeah, Ali he is. But after Matt died, you insisted on
cremating him.”

“Okay, so where are his ashes?”

Jenna tossed me a look that said I wasn’t going to like what
I was about to hear. “Well, you decided to have a private service. Very
private. It was just you and the captain of a boat you chartered. You threw the
urn overboard into Lake Erie. You insisted it was what Matt would have wanted
since he loved boating and fishing.”

“What!” I exclaimed. “How could I have done
that
?”

“You weren’t exactly yourself after his accident and none of
us could talk you out of it. You insisted on it.”

“Good grief,” I whispered. “It’s like I don’t even know
myself or my life.” I sat there and stared at my fingers resting in my lap.
Several minutes passed. My thoughts drifted from Matt’s accident to my life
without him. “What have I been doing these past three years?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Jenna responded tentatively.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, after Matt died, you shut out all of your friends and
were practically a recluse. Other than the occasional phone call to let me know
you were still alive, I have no clue what you have been up to. You haven’t been
working though, that much I do know. You quit your job after receiving the
settlement from Matt’s accident.”

Settlement
, I thought. The more details Jenna shared
with me, the more this story came to life. I was like a child listening to a
story for the first time, but instead of being in awe over an exciting tale, I
was in awe of the fact that this story was my life. It didn’t seem real, but it
had to be true. My mind was empty and Jenna had all of the answers. My best
friend wouldn’t lead me astray, but this was all a bit much to absorb.

“I’m sorry,” I said, though I didn’t know what I was
apologizing for. I was sorry that I gave my friends the cold shoulder. I was
sorry that I was asking so many questions. I was sorry that Jenna had to take
care of me. I was sorry that I appeared to be getting on Jenna’s nerves. It
felt like we had been through this before. Nothing was more frustrating than
not being able to recall any of this. But Jenna was my only source of
information and I needed to know what she knew so that I could start putting my
life back together. So I could stop being a sorry basket case.

“No Ali, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be upset with you. It’s just
been really hard seeing you in so much pain for so long and you shutting everyone
out of your life. All of our other friends kind of gave up on you. They tried
to help but you shut them out.”

I sat there not knowing what to say so I started picking at
my fingernails. I couldn’t imagine shutting out my friends. Since I had no
family besides Matt, my friends
were
my family. I must have been in a
terrible amount of pain and turmoil after Matt’s death to choose to lead a life
without my friends. My fingernails held my attention for a minute until I
noticed the sun was irritating my neck. I rubbed it, hoping to relieve the
irritation, and as I looked up I saw a familiar highway sigh. “Hey, isn’t that
the exit to my house?”

“Yeah, your old place.”

“My old place?”

“Um, yeah. You sold the house on Peace Eagle after the
accident. You said you couldn’t stand living in the house you and Matt shared;
it was too big for you to keep up with and too painful to be there without
him.”

“Fantastic,” I said and threw my arms in the air. “Is there
nothing familiar left in my life? Matt is gone, my friends are gone, my car is
totaled and now I live in a different house? Well, you’re still here, so thank
you for that. I was at least looking forward to going home where I could
hopefully still feel Matt’s presence!”

“Hey, give it some time Ali. You were just in a major
accident and have amnesia. It will all come back to you. You’ll settle back
into your life.”

We drove for another thirty minutes or so in silence. Jenna
finally exited the highway onto a country road. I wasn’t sure where we were.
The two lane road was lined with trees and thick foliage in shades of crimson,
marigold and copper. Few houses were around and the landscape was mainly dotted
with farms and woods. We approached an intersection with a two-way stop and I
sunk down into the seat, fearful that another car wouldn’t stop as we zoomed
past. I relaxed once we were clear. The road twisted and fell into steep dips
and rose back out of them. The motion, combined with the sunlight flickering
through the trees, made me sick.

“Where in the world are you taking me,” I muttered, one hand
on my stomach, the other blocking the sunlight from my eyes. My head was cocked
to shield my neck from the sun.

“Home,” Jenna replied. “We’re almost there.”

We passed a weathered wooden sign that had seen better days.
Carved letters filled with chipped black paint read ‘Welcome to Ridge Hollow.’

“Really?” I asked.

“Really,” Jenna replied.

I was a bit surprised that I apparently moved to Ridge
Hollow. This sleepy little town was miles away from where I had lived in
Buzzard Hill, deeper into the countryside than I ever thought I would move. The
landscape was blanketed with trees, pines and wildflowers and there were more
farms than there were in Buzzard Hill. Houses were few and far between. I
doubted that there were more than fifty homes in the entire town. I recalled
passing through this area years ago with Matt. There was absolutely nothing
here; no grocery stores, gas stations, bars, malls, nothing. This was a place
where Matt would have loved to have lived.

Jenna slowed the car and turned off onto a gravel driveway.
Trees lining the path formed an arch overhead, shielding the area from any
sunshine. The tires rolled slowly through the twisting gravel corridor leading
to a blacktop driveway. After a few more twists, the trees broke and there
stood a quaint little cottage. It was a one story home with white siding and
green shutters. It was tiny but the perfect size for one person. I saw an
attached garage to the left and a separate building, possibly another garage,
in the backyard.

“It’s cute,” I said, “but I certainly don’t remember buying
this place.”

“You apparently took up gardening over the years,” Jenna
pointed out.

“Geez, no kidding.”

The front of the house was bordered by a white picket fence.
Tall orange lilies and multicolored zinnias filled the bed in front of the
fence. Beyond that was a small walkway leading to the front door with flower
beds on both sides of the porch filled with short pines and burning bushes.

I got out of the car before Jenna even had a chance to put
it in park. I stood in the driveway and stared at the house, hoping that
something would trigger my memory, but nothing did. I walked around to the back
of the house and Jenna followed. The backyard was spacious, a huge green area
with a fenced-in garden a few yards back. Tomatoes, peppers and corn were ready
for harvest.

“Clearly I have a green thumb I don’t know about,” I
murmured under my breath. Jenna chuckled. “Seriously. I never gardened before,
so how on earth did I pull this off?”

“Well,” Jenna said softly, “I did mention you had a lot of
time on your hands.”

We walked further into the yard and came upon a good sized
lake with a paddle boat and a bench in the perfect spot to watch the sunset.
The lake stretched out to the edge of the ridge where the land steeply fell off
into a hollow, rocky abyss. The town was aptly named Ridge Hollow for the many
rocky ridges and valleys it had within its borders. The rest of the property
was surrounded by dense woods, the fall foliage a bright contrast to the gray
backdrop.

“It is beautiful,” I whispered. I looked around at the back
of the house and the ridge and the lake. It truly was a beautiful, serene
place, but it just wasn’t me. I was an urbanite. I would have guessed I had
moved to the city or even a beach house; just not here, in the complete middle
of nowhere. This property might have been as close to nowhere as anything. Then
again, it did have a beachy vibe. Maybe I opted for this rather than the shores
of Lake Erie, which could be brutally snowy in the winter. Or maybe, since this
was the type of town Matt wanted to move to, I had moved here to feel closer to
him. “But it doesn’t feel like home.”

“Let’s get you inside,” Jenna said. She wrapped her arms
around my shoulders and redirected me towards the house. “Maybe something in
there will spark a memory.”

We entered through the green front door and were greeted by
a casually decorated foyer. The walls were painted light blue and the floor
tiled in a rustic tan stone. A picture of the sun setting over the lake in the
backyard hung on the wall.

A staircase to the right led to the loft bedroom. It was a
small room but plenty enough space for one. A large wrought iron bed anchored
the room, topped with a sea foam green comforter and oversized pillows. A white
wooden dresser was tucked into a corner. The room was open to the living space
below.

Back downstairs, the foyer stepped down into the living room
which was open to the kitchen. A white sofa sat across from the fireplace and a
TV was mounted on the wall. Jenna walked into the kitchen but I broke to the
right towards a door.

“Let’s see what’s behind door number one,” I said to myself.

The door creaked open and I felt around for a light switch.
Soft lighting blossomed from the ceiling illuminating a room filled with wooden
bookshelves. I stepped into the middle of the room and looked up and all
around. Every square inch of wall space was filled with books or CD cases. I
had always wanted a den filled with books and music, and had begged Matt to
build one for me at our house in Buzzard Hill, but I had never gotten it. I
must have indulged myself. I ran my finger across a row of books. All were
bound in black, brown or burgundy leather, some with buckles on their spines,
but none had titles or authors. I pulled out a book and flipped through the
yellowed pages. They were filled with beautiful calligraphy that appeared to
have been written by a person, not printed by a machine. I started to read a
line when Jenna walked in.

“What’s in here?”

I placed the book back on the shelf. “Looks like I got that
den I always wanted.”

“Boy, you aren’t kidding. How many books are in here?”

“Who knows? Enough to occupy all that free time you told me
I have.” I cracked a smile which Jenna returned.

“So whatcha been reading?” Jenna walked over to a desk and
switched on the lamp. She tilted her head to look at the book on the desk.
“Wow, Ali. The Bible?”

“The Bible?” I asked. That was one book I would have never
have guessed I was reading. I walked next to Jenna and chuckled when I saw the
words ‘Holy Bible’ pressed in gold leaf on the cover. “After twelve years of
Catholic schooling, you’d think I’d have had enough of that book.”

“No kidding. Hey, it doesn’t look like you got very far,”
Jenna said as she flipped through the pages. “Your bookmarker is at the story
of Adam and Eve.”

“Geez, not far at all. Well you can bet with all of the
other interesting books in this room, I’ll be reading something else before
picking the Bible back up!” We both chuckled.

We left the den and walked back into the living room. I
stopped at the sofa table topped with picture frames and examined them. There
was one of me and Jenna in our college sweatshirts; another of me with a big
group of friends (most of whom I had apparently deserted); a picture of my
parents; and several panoramic shots that looked like they had been taken on
various vacations. I paused as I came upon a picture of Matt. It was a small
bronzed frame, and Matt was sitting on his Harley with a huge smile on his
face. This must have been taken when he first bought the bike; the bike still
had all of its stock parts and showed no signs of any of the customization Matt
had done. I stared at the picture, my heart not believing he was gone but my
mind telling me that he was. I set it down when another picture caught my eye.
This one was of me and a stranger. It was a man, an extremely attractive man,
who had his arm around me. He was taller than me with thick black hair and
piercing blue eyes. He was slender yet muscular. I searched the background of
the picture looking for some sign of where we might have been but I couldn’t
figure it out.