Memory's Edge: Part One (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Panic

To be
perfectly honest, John only made the boyfriend comment to try and make her
laugh. But when he saw the look of shock in her eyes, John had grinned at how
adorable she was and gone back to whatever was bothering her. It seemed safer.
Now they had circled back.

The only
thing that kept him from sneaking away without answering was he really did mean
it. He wanted Gretchen to think of him as her boyfriend. She was pretty much
all he thought about, well her and cooking. Whenever he cooked he thought her,
too, and how her writing therapy had led him to experiment with food. So, he
pretty much thought about Gretchen constantly.

Especially
after kissing her.

John’s leg
had been killing him when they got home from the restaurant, so Gretchen
suggested watching a movie on the couch so he could rest. John couldn’t even
remember what the movie was about. Lying next to her on the couch for two hours
was torture. All he wanted to do was run his hands over her skin and trace his
lips over her body.

As
comfortable as they were with each other, he had the feeling a few kisses at
dinner didn’t mean she was ready to jump into making out on her couch. Holding back
wasn't easy, but she looked so peaceful just being in his arms that John didn’t
want to ruin the moment. Plus, as much as he wanted to rush ahead, part of him
was terrified of it as well. There was something about the strange pain from
the previous night he couldn’t stop worrying about. The more he thought about
it, the more certain he was he
had
seen a face among the flashes of
light, one that didn’t belong in the restaurant.

“So, are
you going to answer me sometime today?” Gretchen asked.

How exactly
was John supposed to answer her? “I, uh…” Everything that came to mind sounded
terrible.
I was just joking
, made it sound like he didn’t want her to
think of him as her boyfriend, but
Yes, I desperately want to be your
boyfriend
, sounded pathetic and might scare her if she wasn't feeling the
same way. Why did he even bring it up?

“I’ve been
thinking about it,” John finally said.

Gretchen
nodded slowly. “How much?”

“A lot.”

“Since
when?” she asked.

“Pretty
much since I woke up,” John said. A smile slipped through Gretchen’s thoughtful
expression for a brief second.

Taking both
his hands, Gretchen looked over at him, her face serious, but there was a hint
of pleasure there as well. “John, I understand you don’t have a ton of
relationship experience at this point, but I just want to make sure you
understand real life isn’t like some of the movies we’ve watched. One kiss
doesn’t mean everything will work out perfectly.”

“I get
that, Gretchen, I do. Things have been going pretty well so far, haven’t they?”
he asked.

“Yes, but
…” She trailed off, leaving him hanging.

“I’m not
trying to push you into anything,” John said quickly. Did she really not want
to move forward? “It’s just been on my mind, and kind of slipped out, I guess.
I’m not asking you to decide right now. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

Grabbing
his plate, John limped over to the sink and dropped it in. He didn’t like to
leave dirty dishes, but he wanted to get out of the kitchen. He felt like an
idiot. John made it to the doorway before Gretchen’s voice stopped him.

“John,
wait.”

He stopped
but didn’t turn back.

Gretchen’s
arms wrapped around his waist as she laid her head against his back. “I’m
sorry, John, I didn’t mean to push you away. You just took me by surprise. I
wasn't expecting to have this conversation quite so soon, but I’m glad you
brought it up.”

Now he
turned to face her. “You are? You weren’t acting like it.”

“I’m glad
we’re talking about it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared,” she said. “It’s
a big step. It will only make things harder if…”

John had
been expecting that. Even though they both decided weeks ago that they were
taking a risk, one they thought was worth it, the admission didn’t take away
the fear. John was terrified of hurting or losing Gretchen, but he was terrified
of living without her, too.

All John
could say to her was, “I know.”

The image
of the woman’s face he might or might not have seen the previous night darted
through his thoughts. He worried there was something to be afraid of even more
than Gretchen knew, but he couldn’t let that stop him. He wanted her. He needed
her in a way that had nothing to do with a place to live.

“Gretchen,
I know we’ve done all of this a little backward, moving in together before we
even knew each other, but despite that, I think we’ve done pretty well,” he
said. Gretchen smiled, but she didn’t look convinced. “How often do we fight?
And I mean real fights, not you getting mad about clothes on the floor or
plates and cups in the living room.”

“When do I
complain about that?” she said. “I knew you couldn’t clean up very well with
your casts on. Now, of course…” She was serious, but there was some teasing in
there too. John was gaining some ground.

“Do I treat
you right? Have I ever made you feel like you weren’t the most amazing person I
know?” John asked. He knew she would have a hard time arguing with him there.
He pretty much worshipped her.

Gretchen
didn’t disagree. “You treat me
too
well,” she said, her smile growing.

Bringing
his hands up to the sides of Gretchen’s face, relishing the lack of cast so he
could finally do so properly, John held her so she was looking right at him.
“Do you want me to be part of your life?” He asked, no hint of teasing or
joking in his voice. This was what he really needed to know.

“Of course
I do,” she said without hesitation.

“Then why
are you shying away from the word
boyfriend
?” he asked.

“I …” She
ducked her head and pressed herself against John’s chest. Then without looking
up at him, she said, “I’m just afraid that as soon as I admit to myself that
our relationship is really going somewhere, that’s when it’s going to happen.
That’s when it will all end.”

“Gretchen,
that doesn’t make any sense,” John complained.

“You don’t
understand, John. You’re coming into this with no baggage, no past hurts or
failed relationships. Maybe you did have bad breakups or crazy girlfriends, but
you don’t remember them,” she said. “I would never say you were lucky because
of what happened to you, but I would love to have my memories of Steve ripped
out of my mind.

“We were
together for two years. I had convinced myself he loved me, and I was so sure
he was planning on proposing to me after graduation. I had been through some
good and bad, but short relationships before Steve. I thought it was different
with him, special. Everything seemed so perfect. We were almost done with
college, ready to start our adult life together. I remember telling a friend
how my life felt so complete, how I was happier than I ever thought I could be,
and a few days later, everything fell apart.

“I’m afraid
that as soon as I let myself admit you aren’t here because you need my help,
but because I want you here, something will take you away from me. I want to
keep that moment at bay as long as possible,” Gretchen said, her breath finally
running out.

As if her
words had been holding back her tears, as soon as she stopped talking they
began flowing down her cheeks. Instantly, John pressed her against him and
tried to soothe her, running his hand down her hair to her back until she
stopped crying.

“Gretchen,
I can’t make you any promises about the future. We both know how uncertain that
is right now, but I can promise you I will do everything I can to make you
happy and I will never purposely hurt you,” John said.

He wanted
to promise her more, promise her everything, but he wasn’t going to lie. He
couldn’t tell her he would never leave. There were things that might force him
to go eventually. Hope that he would never face any of those situations kept
him from even bringing them up. They both knew what they were.

“Now that
my casts are off, I can get a job, and move out if I want to,” John said. “I
can fend for myself now. I don’t need your help anymore. But I do need you. I
don’t want to leave.”

John wanted
to add one more sentence to that, but with how she reacted to the idea of him
being her boyfriend, he thought that adding to what he’d already said would
only push her away even more. That discussion would have to wait for a better
time.

“I don’t
want you to leave either, John,” Gretchen said. “I don’t know what I would do
with myself if you left, although I’m pretty sure I would starve to death
without you here to cook for me every day.” Her teasing tone gave John hope.
Was she warming to the idea, or at least thinking about it without wanting to
panic?

Gretchen
took a deep breath. There was still a little uncertainty in her eyes, but she
was smiling when she said, “John, I would love to call you my boyfriend.”

Cocking one
eyebrow, John waited. He watched to see if her smile was going to slip back
into that fearful frown. Instead, peace settled over her and her smile grew.
Still, he couldn’t help but ask.

“Gretchen,
are you sure? I wasn’t trying to push you into anything. I just wanted to know
what you thought about the idea,” John said.

“I’m sure,”
Gretchen said, “and actually, this makes it the perfect time to mention that my
parents called yesterday at lunch. They want to meet you and asked if they
could come down to visit next weekend.”

Now it was
John’s turn to panic.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Invitation

For some
strange reason, Gretchen thought having a party with all her friends would make
meeting her parents easier for John. Now she sat at the kitchen table with a
stack of invitations wondering what on earth she had been thinking. John had
actually been pretty excited about the idea. He had asked about meeting some of
Gretchen’s friends a while ago, but she thought he liked the idea of a party
because that meant there would be more people around to distract her parents.

Sitting
next to Gretchen at the table, John was busy planning the menu for the party
while she was addressing envelopes. Luckily, all she needed were first names.
Pretty much everyone she knew in town were people she worked with, people she
lived near, or the nurses at the hospital. She would slip the invitations for
her co-workers into their mailboxes at work and John was going to drop off the
nurses’ invitations at his physical therapy appointment the next day.

Of the
three sets of neighbors she knew well enough to invite, Gretchen was actually
only inviting one of them. Two were elderly and didn’t go out after dark, the
other was a young family with a baby they routinely put to bed by eight o’clock
every night, and then there was Carl. Gretchen finished writing his name and
sat staring at the envelope.

John
noticed her stupor and looked over at her. “Carl? Really?” he asked.

“I know,”
she said.

“Is that
really a good idea? The guy doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“It’s not
you he doesn’t like. It’s any guy that isn’t him,” Gretchen said. “I want him
to get to know you. Maybe if he actually meets you he’ll realize how crazy he’s
being about this situation.”

“I
seriously doubt it. I don’t think guys work like that.” John set his notepad
down. “Best case scenario, Carl refuses to come and watch you parade around
your new boyfriend for all your friends. Worst case, he actually comes and I
end up back in a cast.”

Rolling her
eyes, Gretchen picked the envelope up off the table. “You are so dramatic. Carl
knows how to behave himself.”

John
grimaced. “I only have about two months of memories and some movies to go off,
but I think I understand guys a little better than you do. Carl is not going to
want to come, and if he does,
I
don’t want him to come. For my own
safety.”

Gretchen
rolled her eyes. “The only thing Carl is going to be upset about is if we don’t
invite him. He’s a good friend, John. He’ll be offended if we don’t invite
him.”

“It’s your
call,” John said with a shrug. “But if he tries to kill me, it’s on your head.”
He tried to keep a straight face as he said that last part, but he didn’t do a
very good job of it.

Gretchen
pushed away from the table, invitation in hand, and stood up. “I’ll be back in
a few minutes.”

“Do you
want me to take it?” John asked. Now he was being serious, worry clouding his
expression.

“No, thank
you,” Gretchen said. She argued with John about inviting Carl, but she
was
a little worried about her hulking neighbor. Meeting John in front of her
parents would keep Carl on his best behavior. Gretchen knew he would be hoping
that on the off chance John took off, he would have already made a good
impression on her parents, just in case he got his chance to try and seduce her
afterward. There was no way Gretchen wanted John and Carl facing off without a
house full of witness. She was pretty sure he would behave himself.

“I’ll be
right back,” she said, and walked out of the house.

***

Gretchen’s
nerves had her repeatedly tapping the invitation against her leg as she
approached Carl’s front door. It took her a few seconds before she could bring
herself to ring the doorbell. She was probably interrupting a basketball game,
but Carl was at the door in less than ten seconds. Pulling it open with a
smile, Carl pulled Gretchen into a bear hug before she could react.

She was
really glad John couldn’t see Carl’s front porch from the house.

“Hey,
Carl,” she said, her voice muffled by his chest.

Carl pulled
back, but kept one arm around her shoulder. She should have shrugged it off,
but she wanted to keep him in a good mood. “What are you up to? You want to
come in?” Carl asked.

Gretchen
hesitated.

Looking
incredibly smug, Carl squeezed her shoulders. “We’re just friends, right? Come
in for a minute. I haven’t gotten to talk to you very much lately.”

“Okay,
Carl, but just for a few minutes,” Gretchen said.

Carl
clapped her on the shoulder in an overly friendly manner and held the door open
for her. Gretchen followed him in and took her customary place on the couch.
Sinking into the overstuffed cushions, she let herself relax a little. She
loved this couch. Gretchen wasn't all that interested in sports, but she loved
watching games with him. She’d forgotten how comfortable she felt here.

“So who’s
winning?” Gretchen asked.

Carl
groaned. “Not the Nuggets.”

“Again? I
thought they were doing better this year,” she said.

“They were
until about three weeks ago. Now they can’t win a game to save their lives.
You’ve rescued me from having to finish watching this,” Carl said. He left the
TV on, though. He complained every time his favorite teams lost, but he
couldn’t make himself stop watching. He didn’t really want to. The bad games
only made the good ones that much better.

“Maybe
they’ll snap out of it,” she offered.

“Maybe.”
Carl’s thoughts weren’t on the game. Not with the way he was watching Gretchen.
“So, Gretchen, what brings you over here today? You haven’t just stopped by to talk
since your lost puppy came home.”

This might
be harder than she thought. “Carl,” Gretchen said warningly.

He just
shrugged. “I know you’re not here to watch the Nuggets lose. What’s going on?”

“My parents
are coming to visit next weekend,” she said.

“I thought
they weren’t coming until school was out,” Carl said.

Talking
with Carl felt nice. In the face of everything that had been going on over the
last few months, Gretchen hadn’t realized how much she missed him. She didn’t
have to stop and explain things to him every time they talked. Explaining her
past to him had been taken care of ages ago.

“They
weren’t, but I guess a friend of my parents has a kid getting married next week
in Phoenix. My parents are going down for the wedding and wanted to stop by for
a visit on the way,” she said.

“So what’s
that for?” Carl asked, pointing to the invitation.

“I’m having
a party to introduce my parents to all my friends.” Gretchen watched for Carl’s
response.

He rubbed
his chin thoughtfully for a second. “You mean you’re having a party to
introduce your friends and your parents to John.”

“That’s
part of it. My mom and dad do want to meet John, but they want to meet you,
too,” Gretchen said. It was the truth. Her mom had been bugging her about Carl
for months. “I’ve told them a lot about you.”

Carl
scoffed, but it was true. Before meeting John, Gretchen’s weekly conversations
with her parents consisted of her telling them about her job and what she did
with Carl. Gretchen’s mom didn’t understand why she hadn’t tried dating Carl
any more than he did. Why was Gretchen the only one who got it? Beside the fact
that her mom was dying to meet John, she had specifically asked to meet Carl as
well. Gretchen didn’t bother mentioning that part of their conversation to
John.

“How are
things going between you and John?” Carl asked.

Gretchen
knew he would ask, but still dreaded having to answer him. She wanted to lie,
but wouldn’t do that to Carl. “We’re dating now,” she said.

Carl seemed
to expect that, but his face still saddened at the news. Gretchen felt guilty
even though she had no reason to. He knew how she felt. Expecting her to turn
another man down just so she wouldn’t hurt his feelings would be ridiculous.
Gretchen knew Carl understood that, but didn’t make it any easier for him to
hear. Had she made a mistake in coming over to his house?

“Okay,”
Carl said suddenly, “I’ll come. When is it?”

Blinking in
surprise, Gretchen didn’t respond for a few seconds. “It’s Saturday night at
eight,” she said. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.
I wouldn’t miss it,” Carl said. The pleased smile on his face made her wary.

“Why?” she
asked.

“I’m not
going to miss a chance to show your parents what a great guy I am. Plus this
will give me a chance to really get to know Coma Guy first hand. I’m pretty
sure you’ve been hiding him from me so far,” Carl said. “I’m very curious about
him.”

“I haven’t
been hiding John from you. He’s been in a cast. It’s not like it’s exactly easy
to get around with a broken arm and leg and crutches,” she argued. It was a
pretty weak argument. Gretchen had totally been hiding John from Carl.

“Well,
either way, there won’t be anywhere to hide Saturday.” Getting up from his
recliner, Carl sat down on the couch next to Gretchen. His arm fell around her
shoulders, squeezing her before she had the chance to wriggle free. “Your
parents are going to love me. Maybe they’ll even help me convince you to ditch
good
ol
’ John and give me a chance.”

“Carl, you
better not do anything stupid,” she warned. “If you ruin my party, I will stop
speaking to you. I swear I will.”

“Now why
would I do anything stupid? I want your parents to like me, not think I’m some
creepy mystery guy who might turn out to be a total psycho,” Carl said.

Forcing his
arm off her shoulders Gretchen faced Carl. “I’m serious, Carl. You better
behave yourself. No stupid comments about John being a serial killer. No trying
to convince my parents I should be dating you instead. Nothing but you being a
perfect gentleman. Do you understand me?”

“I don’t
know that I’ve ever been a perfect gentleman, but for you, Gretchen, I will
certainly try.” Carl swept up her hand and planted a kiss on the back of it,
his attempt at debonair both irritating and amusing Gretchen.

Snatching
her hand away, Gretchen folded her arms across her chest, and said, “You
better.” Slumping down into the couch, she couldn’t help but wonder what she
had just gotten herself into.