Meadowlarks (14 page)

My father grins and shrugs his shoulders.

              “We were freaking out! You held on, man…but then...you let go.” Jeremiah goes white. “You looked like a rag doll.”

             
“The doctor told me what happened, but I don't remember any of it.” I feel frustrated, and I hold my hands up, shaking my head. “Who is Addison?”

             
Every person in the room holds their breath at the same time.

             
“What?” I look around at all the faces, staring at me with wide eyes.

             
“
What?
” Jeremiah looks at Nick, then Owen, then back to me. “Who's Addison? She's your girl, that's who. Are you joking right now?”

             
Jer looks almost angry, but I don't think it's at me—at least I hope not.

             
“Blaine didn't remember her when Dr. Tyler mentioned her, so that's why we asked you not to bring her, Jer,” Nick chimes in. “We didn't want to upset her. I'm sure it'll all come back with time.” He looks reassuringly at Jeremiah, who doesn't seem to believe Nick's hopefulness.

             
“I don't know what to say.” Upset, he puts his head in his hands. “Hell, I'm just so happy you're alive.”

             
Dr. Tyler comes in and explains what my latest test results have to say. “All signs show he's going to be okay. He can go home maybe tomorrow, as long as someone is able to stay with him for a few days.”

             
“I'll stay. I'm there every day anyway,” Jeremiah says to the doctor, who nods and smiles. “What about his memory, doc? He doesn't remember...certain things.”

Doctor Tyler
looks at me. “Well, things like this can happen from a bump on the head. Nine times out of ten the memories come back within a few days. He doesn’t have amnesia,” Dr. Tyler explains to my family, who all look relieved.

             
I’m released the next day, and the drive home takes no time at all. I go with Jeremiah in some big beefy Dodge.

             
“Is this a rental?”

             
“Umm. No. I bought it; you came with me.”

             
“Sorry, man. I'm trying to figure all this out.” I put my head in my hands and groan. How can I lose weeks of my life? How can I get it back?

             
Jeremiah pats my shoulder. “We'll deal with it as it comes.”

             
Rex is frantic when I get out of the truck. I've never seen him more excited; he probably thought I was never coming back. I slowly lay down on the couch inside, kicking my shoes off. They land with a thud on the wood floor.

             
“Want anything?”

             
“Naw, I'm okay. Thanks for everything, Jer.” I smile and reach for the remote to turn the TV on.

             
That night I sleep peacefully and dream about a beautiful woman. I can't see her face, but she's sitting on my porch, swinging on the bench. I just stand there in the doorway watching her. She looks out into the field, but there's nothing there but trees.

She hums
a song, and the bench moves in rhythm with her sad melody. When I wake up the dream is very much in the front of my mind, and I think about it all morning. But I don’t mention it to Jeremiah.

*
              *              *

             
The next week is painfully boring. He refuses to let me do much of anything; I'm surprised he leaves me alone when I need to use the bathroom. He does all the cooking, and cleaning—well, as much cleaning as a single guy does.

             
“Your appointment is at eleven-thirty today. I'll drive you and then bring you home.” Jer looks at his watch, then pulls out his cell phone to send a message to someone. Whoever it is sends a reply which doesn't make him smile, but he does seem to relax a little.

             
“Who was that?” I ask when he shoves it back into his pocket.

             
“Nobody. Let's go!” He motions with his hand, and I put my shoes on. I miss driving. I
really
miss driving my own truck and doing things for myself. I do like having Jer around, though. I would be lonely if he was gone. The feeling of being alone makes me cold, and I push it away.

             
Dr. Lloyd, my family doctor, evaluates me and gives me a thumbs up. I'm all good.               Finally! My goose egg is gone for the most part, and with all the resting I've been ordered to do, my body no longer aches. Even the bruises are almost gone, a faint yellow color now.

             
“Wanna get some lunch?” I ask Jeremiah. “I don't know about you, but I'm starving.” Of course. I know the answer before he even says it. Jer's always hungry.

             
“Where do you want to go?” Jeremiah asks.

I suggest The Wolfbarrow, and he looks at me like I've grown a second head.

              “You sure?”

             
Why wouldn't I be sure? We go there all the time.

             
“Okay,” he agrees. “Let's go.” He puts the truck in reverse, and we back out of the parking lot. Idling at the lights, waiting for the red to change to green, I see a silver Mustang pull up beside us.

             
Damn. Nice car.
I look down into the driver’s window. Jer’s truck is lifted like mine, so I can't see anything but a pair of women's legs disappearing beneath the steering wheel.

             
Mmm, even better.
I smirk. The light turns green and we drive ahead. The Mustang turns right and is gone.

             
Seconds later his phone beeps, but he ignores it.

             
“You going to get that?” I ask, reaching for the phone, but he snatches it away before I can touch it.

             
“Can't text and drive, bro. Better to be safe than sorry.” He shoves it into his pocket.

             
The Wolfbarrow is busy, but we’re able find a table and sit. Some new waitress takes our order. She's gorgeous. She's got black hair, cut really short but very feminine. I usually go for girls with long hair, but this one has a body to die for and a face to match. We order, and I keep feeling like Jeremiah is glaring at me.

             
“What!?” I kick his shin with my shoe under the table. “Did you even see her? Or are you too busy texting...whoever. You haven't put that thing down since we got here.”

             
He snorts.               “Yeah, I saw her, she's pretty. And she's Jesse's new girlfriend, so don't go getting any ideas.”

             
Oh, well. I'm not the type to move in on another man's girlfriend, but it doesn't mean I can't appreciate her beauty. I roll my eyes at him, and take a big rib off my plate, ripping the meat off the bone with my teeth.

             
When he leaves to use the bathroom, he forgets his phone on the table. I can't resist, so I pick it up, sliding the screen with my finger to unlock it I open up the messages.

             
The most recent set of messages is open, so I take a quick look at the bathroom door and start reading.

Texts from the past week…

Jeremiah: He's OK today, not in any pain.

             
              Addison: That's great!

              Jeremiah: Yep. Sorry about everything. I still feel awful.

             
              Addison: Me 2. I still can't believe this happened.

              Jeremiah: We all just gotta pray he starts to remember.

Addison:                             I have been praying. Every night and every morning.

              Jeremiah: Well our prayers for him to be alive were heard loud and clear.

Addison:
                            Thank you, I really appreciate you keeping me updated.

Jeremiah:               No worries Addison. Please try and stay positive.

Addison:                             I will. I love him too much not to be.

Texts from today…

Jeremiah:               Hey, his appointment is today. You sure you won't be there right?

Addison:                             Hi, yes I’m sure. I don't work until later anyway.

Jeremiah:               I know it will be hard, but we need to take it slow, ya know?

Addison:                             I know.

Jeremiah:               I'll call you later and tell you how it went.

Addison:                             K thanks.

              “Shit.” Jer stands at the table, arms crossed, and I don't know if he's mad at himself for leaving the phone unattended or at me for reading it.

             
“I want to see her, Jer. Please.” I can feel tears starting to well in my eyes. “Get me out of here.”

Standing up to walk out, I'm beyond frustrated. Why did this happen to me? I have a girl who is in love with me somewhere out there, and she's in agony. I can't bear it; I cover my face with my hands in anger, desperate to remember what I had and what I hopefully haven't lost.

              “I'll take you home, and then we'll talk about it, okay?”

             
I agree and climb into his truck. At home we talk about her. He tells me how we met, how I first saw her at Zeke's and drooled like a St. Bernard. How she was always here, and we were in love. He talked about her brother working for me, too, and that the car I saw today was hers. I don't speak; I just sit in the chair at the dining room table and listen.

             
After a while his phone beeps again, and he leaves the room to answer it. I lay my head down on the wooden table top and cover it with my arms.

             
Please Lord, let me remember her.
I pray up to the heavens, desperate to reminisce.

When I raise my head I notice a vase of dying flowers on the table in front of my face. A tiny white petal drops onto the table, and I inhale sharply.

              Like a projector screen dropping down in front of my eyes, it all comes back, memories flying into my mind. Zeke's, the dog treats, her hair, and her blue dress.

I'm reeling.

              Spilled beer, her giggles, dad's birthday, Gwen, her tears.

             
Everything is there; everything is back, and when Jeremiah walks back in the room, I'm almost catatonic.

             
“Holy shit, Blaine! What's wrong?” He rushes over and sits beside me.

             
“I remember, Jer. I remember everything.” I see myself sitting on Del Mar's back inside the chute, the flankman smiling at me.               I stand up so fast my chair falls over, and I head into the kitchen to find my keys.

             
“Blaine, she's at work. You can't just…”

             
I glare at him, even though I don't mean to.

             
“Okay, okay.” He puts his hands up in surrender.

             
“You're right; I can't just run in there. What times does she get off?” My stomach does flip-flops, and I'm feeling all kinds of strange emotions that I can seem to get a grip on.

             
He looks at the big clock on the wall.               “In two hours.”

             
Two agonizing hours I have to wait.

             
“I'm gonna call her, Blaine. I want to tell her, let her decide what she wants to do. She's been through a lot.” He takes out his phone, looks at me sympathetically and goes outside.

             
I don't wait for him to come back in and tell me what she says. I know she will want to see me—if she really loves me, she will, anyway. I run upstairs to shower and redress. Even though what I already had on was fine, I want to look my best, like it's my prom or something. I'm nervously buckling my belt and pulling my shirt over my head.