THIS Is Me... (10 page)

  “Yes, what?”
  “You and Z are very much together.  You and Z are a couple, or were a couple- are
trying
to be a couple.  He loves you very much and he's been by your side this whole time.  And you love him very much.  Christ!  I'm half in love with him myself.  I swear he is the sexiest, funniest, yet most intense man I've ever met in my life.  I just adore him, especially for you.  He is amazing, Suzanne.  And I'm not kidding- if you and he don't work out I'm throwing myself at him,” she smiles at me again.  Wow.  How weird.  How do I even respond to that?
  Whispering, “But I'm married to Marcus.  I don't understand.”
  “I know you don't remember this, but you left Marcus.  You really did leave Marcus in February.  You and Marcus are over, or were over. I hope ARE over.  You tried to make it work though, Suzanne.  You tried very hard, but you finally left Marcus in February and he is well aware of this, regardless of what he tells you now.”
  But I don't believe her. I really don't.  I mean, that guy was super-hot, so how would I even meet someone like that?  This whole thing reads like fiction.  I wish to god Marcus would get here so he could tell me what's actually going on.  I know people don't generally band together to mess with a total stranger's head but other than that theory, I've got nothing. 

  I don't know these people, and I don't believe I would ever leave Marcus.  Marcus loves me, I know he does.
  “Marcus loves me, Kayla.  I know you didn't really know him, but he does.  Mr. Shields knows him and he'll tell you.  Marcus and I have been together for a long time now.  And he loves me very much,” I tell her desperately.
  Staring hard at me, Kayla looks like she wants to say something.  Actually, I can tell she really wants to say something but won't or can't.  Or maybe she shouldn't.  Or maybe she doesn't know how.  I'm not sure, but her sudden silence is unnerving.
  Suddenly desperate, I beg, “What is it?”
  “It's not my place to tell you this, though I want to very much.  You have so much to talk to Mack about.  Actually, you, Mack, Z, and even Marcus have a lot to discuss, and though it's killing me not to tell you, I can't.  Trust me, you're gonna need Mack badly.  I just hope you remember Mack soon so you remember your love for him, so you can be 'Mack and Suzanne' again because you're really awesome together, and Mack totally gets you.”
  “But you said I was in love with Z.”
  “You are.  You and Mack are inseparable
friends.
  You both love each other very much but as dear friends.  Mack is with the other Kayla, though I'm trying to get him for myself as well.” Again with the smirk.  What is
with
her? 

  “I'm joking, Suzanne.  Z is yours and Mack is Kayla's, and I'm just joking.  I always threaten those 2 men with dating them but I'm totally kidding.  Please don't look at me like that.  You have this look of disgust on your face, and you never do that.  You don't judge me like every other woman does, and you
know
I'm kidding and not half as bad as my reputation is.”
  “Actually, I
don't
know that because I don't remember that.  But truthfully, it's hard to believe anything you say because I only remember you from work.  And at work you were always so explicit and promiscuous and very, very verbal about it.”

“Suzanne, please.  I'm NOT like that, and we're very good friends now, I promise.  You don't even work at Petri-Dunn anymore-”
  “What?! 
Why
?!”
  “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. I'm not supposed to tell you things you don't remember yet.  Shit.  Okay... Ah, you quit your job but you're okay!  You
wanted
to quit.”
  Okay, breathe.  What the hell is going on? I must have mental overload, I think.  I can't possibly process anything else right now.  I'm unemployed.  I'm estranged from my husband.  I'm
in love
with another man.  I have all these ‘friends’ and my husband and parents haven't even been here to visit me yet.  What the hell is going on in my life??
  “What's wrong with my face?”  Wow.  Where did THAT come from?
  “You were in a car accident and you sustained some damage.”
  “Is that why I'm in here?”
  “Yes and no.  You were in a coma because of brain trauma as you know, and while in here you've also been treated for the damage to your body caused from the accident.”
  “Is it really bad?” I whisper.
  Shaking her head she says, “It's not great, but it's not as bad as it probably feels to you.  Would you like to see it?”
  “NO!  God, no.”
  “Okay.  Whenever you're ready though, let me know and I'll get you a mirror.”

  “Is that why my arm and leg have those tight bandages on them?”

  “Yes.  You were hurt on one side of your body, your left side, so you've been recovering from the trauma to your body while in the coma.  I know it doesn't seem like it, but it's really not as bad as you're probably thinking.”  I'm sure it IS as bad as I’m thinking.
  “I don't want to see it.  And I really wish you weren't looking at me so much.  If I had known I was messed up I wouldn't have talked with all those other people.  I don't really want anyone to see me.  Would you mind leaving now?  I'd like to be alone for a while.”
  But as I try turning away from her she suddenly yells, “Well, that's tough shit!  If by 'the others' you mean Mack, Kayla, and Z, then you're going to be very disappointed.  We've been here constantly since your accident.  We have talked with you, and held you, and hugged you and begged you.  We have been the constant for you since this all began- actually even before the accident we were with you whether you remember us or not. 
  “... So please don't give me the 'I am an island- I just want to be alone' bullshit, okay?  Just spare me 'cause I'm way too fucking tired of all the Suzanne
drama
to have any patience left.  At this point you’re lucky I'm even remotely civil with you.”

  Oh my god… I'm stunned.  What the hell is she talking about?  And how cruel can one person be?  I'm not trying to be anything.  I'm just confused, and lonely, and I don't know these people like this so I don't want them here. 
And
I'm ugly now.  So naturally, I don't want them to have to look at my ugliness.
  Bursting into tears, I suddenly close in on myself.  I don't want to keep doing this.  If by 'Suzanne-drama' she means being in a car accident, then how mean!  Honestly, it's not like I asked for this.  It's not like I want any of this.  I don't even know what I look like, but I know I don't want it.  Why is she so mean to me?

  “Oh, shit!  I'm so sorry Suzanne.  I know I'm a total bitch but I swear I'm not usually with you.  Just with everyone else.  Ask Mack and Kayla- they'll tell you,” she exhales.  “I'm just so tired and scared all the time with you because there’s never any peace around you.  And I’m never sure how to handle it all so I act like a bitch usually.  Look, I don't really do
warm and fuzzy
so I’m mostly hard and bitchy, but that's my shit NOT yours.  Please don't cry Suzanne.  Please.  Plus, Mack and Kayla will be pissed at me for fucking you up, and Z will absolutely kill me.”
  Looking at her, I just can't understand this Kayla as the Kayla I remember.  She was always so strong and tough and awesome at work.  She was never sorry, or tired, or scared.  She was just the funny, kind of slutty Kayla from work, who I always talked to because no one else really did.  Except for the men, of course.

  “Look Kayla, I'm okay.  But I'm really tired now, so I
really
need you to leave.  I'm not trying to be all
dramatic
-”
  “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that.”
  “It's fine.  Forget it.  I'm just exhausted, so please leave me alone.  I need to sleep badly.  Okay?  But thank you for visiting, I really appreciate it.”
  “Okay Suzanne... But I'm really sorry I upset you.  If it makes you feel any better I'm going to tell on myself to Mack and Kayla, AND I'm going to kick my own ass afterward.” 
  Okay, I don't even know what that means, but it's kind of funny.
  “Okay.  You do that, and I'll see you some other time.  Thanks for stopping by.”
  “I'm coming back tomorrow, I promise.”
  “Okay, thank you.  Good night.”
  Leaning in, Kayla suddenly hugs me, which actually makes me tense right up and even flinch a little.  I suddenly feel so trapped and uncomfortable; I can't wait for her to leave.  This feels so gross to me.
  “Goodbye Suzanne. I miss you.”
 

  Leaving my room, I see her tears and again I know I'm supposed to feel something for her sadness, but I really don't.  It's like I'm heartless or numb to her upset, which I think is good.  If I felt like shit on top of the mental aerobics I'm suffering I think I may just lose my mind.  There is only so much I can take. 
  Exhaling a big breath, I once again find my hand resting between my cheek and the pillow.  Touching my face, I feel the bumps and weird skin.  I swear it feels hot on my fingertips.  Strangely, the pattern feels almost interesting as I touch it with my fingers, though clearly not interesting enough that I want to actually look at it.
  I wonder what I look like now.  I wonder how many layers of gross I've added to myself.  I wonder if I'll be known now as ‘The short, big-assed, wide-hipped, ugly-faced Woman’.  Giggle.  Shit, I really am mental sometimes.
  Closing my eyes, it's time for me.  This reality sucks, so maybe my dream reality will be easier to handle.  I mean really... How much worse can it get? 

  Ooops, probably just jinxed myself.  Ha!  Dammit.
 

CHAPTER 14

MAY 23

  Thinking again about that man Z, I'm almost excited.  It's so weird to try to understand and remember a relationship I don't know at all.  It's even harder trying to forget the relationship I DO know with Marcus simply because strangers tell me it's over.
  Moving slowly, I turn to my left side and there he is.  Wow!  I just think about him and he's here?   I wonder if my power reaches beyond just him.  That would be an amazingly useful power to have.  Think and you shall receive.  Giggle.

  “Suzanne... How are you, love?”
  “Ah, good.  I’m sore and a little uncomfortable, but okay.  Why are you here?”
  “I'm always here.  I've been here since your accident.  I followed you from New York, and settled into Chicago while I waited for you to wake up.”  Oh. 
  “Thank you...?”
  “Suzanne, you don't need to be polite, and you don't need to be kind.  Just be yourself.  Talk to me however you like.  However you need.  I know you're struggling with all this information and confusion.  Would you like me to get the nurse for more pain meds?”
  “I'm so sorry... but I really am confused.  This is all too much for me, and no I don't want more medication.  I think it confuses me more.”
  Smiling, he says, “We can take it slow if you want.  We can just talk, and maybe we'll trigger a memory, or maybe you will slowly begin to remember on your own.  As I understand it, Mack says you could just wake up with your memory, or you may slowly remember little details over time.”
  “He told me that, too.  Um, why are you here though?  This must be so boring for you.”   
  As I speak, I find myself reaching for my own face.  I find an intense insecurity forcing me to cover my face from him.  He is so good looking- SO good looking and I don't want him to see me ugly like this.
  When he leans forward to take my hand, I flinch and move deeper into the pillows.  I don't want him to uncover me, and I DON'T want him to touch me.
  When he slowly moves back into his chair, I relax.  He smells delicious, but way too close to me.  He's invading my personal space and he's keeping me from exhaling, I think.
  “Suzanne.  You never have to hide from me.  Ever.  Though you don't remember me yet, I love you very, very much.  I love all of you, every piece of you.  You and I have been to hell and back, to
temporarily
into hell again.  But I'm not leaving you, so please try to trust in my words even if you can't remember me yet.”
  Silently, I nod and just take him in.  I think he's pretty tall, and he's got a great body, and he dresses fantastic, and he's just so awesome to look at.  His eyes are the loveliest dark brown I've ever seen, and his lips are those awesome full guy lips that every woman wants to kiss, and his skin looks warm, and naturally darker, I think.  He seems Italian or Greek or something with that coloring.
  “Are you Italian, or Greek?”  What a stupid question, but honestly, it's all I've got right now.
  “I'm half Italian and half American.  My Italian side is deeply Italian, but my American side is the classic British ‘once upon a time’ mix.”  Smirking, he questions, “Why do you ask?”
  “Um, you have lovely tanned skin, and your eyes are beautiful.” Holy shit!  Did I just say that?

  “Why, thank you,” he grins.
  Grinning and mumbling a ‘you're welcome’ I pause.
  When silence descends on us, I feel lost again.  I want to know so much but I don't know what to ask him?
  “Would you like me to tell you a little about us, Suzanne?  Would you like me to explain you and me?”
  Exhaling, I nod, “Yes, please.”
  Smiling at me once again, he says, “Well get comfy, love, because you and I are a beautiful story.”  Oh!
  Turning a little more to my left, I settle my face deeply into my pillow.  Clasping my hands under my cheek, I'm almost excited to hear Z speak.  His voice is deep and dark and his eyes totally mesmerize me. 
  “Almost exactly a year ago, you and I began a kind of pseudo-relationship via email when you were having problems at work and problems with your husband, and I quickly found myself intrigued by you.  You are, or
were
very proper and reserved and you were wrapped so tightly, I found myself curious about
unwrapping
you,” he winks.  Oh
shit.
  I think I just blushed.
  “Anyway, we spoke on the phone frequently, and eventually we met up once you left your husband.  And when we met, I was drawn to you the very moment I kissed you.  Actually, the very moment I saw your photo I was intrigued by you.  But the moment I met you in person, I was done.  There was something about you I couldn't understand or deny.  I was so attracted to you that I was rather shocked by the intensity of my initial attraction.  And once you left your husband, I knew I had my opening with you.” 
  I don't even know what to say to this.  There are no words.  It's impossible for someone like him to feel like that for someone like me.  It doesn't make sense.  I'm just me, and he is SO him.
  “I really left Marcus?” I beg, instead of stating the obvious.