Aurora

by Emma L. McGeown

  “Jax, stop for a second,” Greg called again as I burst into the washroom. He followed me there, too.

  I darted to a spare cubicle and released the contents of my stomach, which was very little. I felt a hand on my back as I leant over the toilet, but Greg’s caring touch felt like it was burning my skin.

  “Leave me alone.” I flushed the toilet and brushed past him to the sink to splash my face. I felt faint, swaying as I gripped the sink for stability. My complexion matched the tiles on the floor, a cold grey, and damp stains lingered under my arms. Even with a bad flu or hangover, I’d never looked this deathly.

  “You should sit. Are you feeling okay?”

  “No. Surprisingly, I’m not.” I spoke through gritted teeth as I tried to walk past him, but he blocked my path. My blood felt as if it was at boiling point as I pushed him away.

  “Keelin, stop,” he called, and his voice bounced off the tiles like a swirl of concern I couldn’t escape, and finally, I let myself crumble.

  “What did you do?” I shouted, tears threatening to spill. “She doesn’t remember me. She’s lost the last eight years of her life. You must have done something, fucked up—”

  “You know this wasn’t me,” he replied softly, looking offended that I could accuse him of something like this. “You don’t think the bus that hit her had something to do with her temporary amnesia?”

  “You don’t know that it’s temporary!”

  “Odds are—”

  “Don’t tell me the bullshit statistics we give to the patient’s family to give them some hope.” I stormed past him, out of the washrooms and back into the hallway.

  “You need to calm down.” He followed, irritating me further.

  “No, you need to leave me the hell alone.” I turned and shoved him. He stumbled into a medical cart with a crash. Supplies clattered to the floor as nurses, some of whom were my friends, stopped at their station and watched as if fearful that they would need to call security.

  I barely recognised myself, and by the look on Greg’s face, he didn’t either. Emotions took control with my mind unable to accept Elena’s memory loss and that I could have been responsible for it.

  “Don’t take this out on me, Jax. I’m your friend, not a punching bag.” He raised his voice, something he rarely did, before it softened again. “You’ve got to keep it together. This could be temporary. She could get back her memories—”

  “When?”

  “It could happen at any time, you know that. But we can’t go in there and shock the life out of her while she’s recovering.”

  “So we let her pretend she’s living in 2010? I can’t wait until she sees the news: why’s that buffoon now the US president? Brexit? She will send herself into another coma.”

  “I don’t have all of the answers, Jax. All I know is she needs time to remember who she is.” As I wiped away tears, Greg nodded over my shoulder. “Besides, he needs you now more than ever.”

  “Mum!” My son Jamie ran toward me with Elena’s older sister, Cat, trying to catch up. I lifted him into my arms and held on tight. He was like a breath of fresh air on this dark, miserable day.

  “Is Mummy awake yet? Can I see her?” he asked as he pulled away, revealing big green eyes just like Elena’s.

  The inner turmoil I felt staring into Jamie’s eyes was unbearable, but Greg was right. He needed me now more than ever. I had to be strong for him. He needed at least one stable parent as we waited and hoped Elena regained her memory, if she ever did.

  Chapter Two

  “Wait, so not only am I in my thirties and probably have grey hairs and more wrinkles than I know, no one can tell me anything about the last eight years?” I asked, perplexed.

  “Elena, the mind is extremely fragile,” Dr Hall said softly, taking the seat beside me. “Particularly after a traumatic incident like what you’ve been through. Patients who are overwhelmed with information all at once can sometimes regress. And like you said, eight years is a long time. Things have certainly changed. You’ve changed.” His eyes widened, and he began to backpedal from that statement. “Probably. I mean, everybody changes over the course of their life, right? I wouldn’t know about you specifically, but I’m sure you’ve changed too. Probably.” I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew more, and it frustrated me no end.

  I’d aged massively overnight and was rendered with virtually no hint or explanations as to how the rest of my twenties had panned out, let alone the beginning of my thirties. There were things I’d wanted to accomplish by the time I had turned thirty. Perhaps travel a little, have a good career or be married with children. Even a pet? And then there was Tom, my serious boyfriend, but his absence indicated that was no longer the case. The holes in my mind made me feel broken and alone.

  After he cleared his throat, he continued again with a seriousness in his voice. “The point is, learning all of these changes at once can actually deteriorate recovery, push patients into a state of depression, or you could shut down that part of your brain altogether. In extreme cases, it can actually decelerate the process of recalling old memories and habits, with some things never coming back.”

  I nodded slowly, not fully understanding. “So I’m supposed to what? Not watch TV in case I find out who’s won the last eight X Factors?”

  “Pop culture and current events are different. Watch the news, read a newspaper, go on Facebook—”

  “Facebook isn’t still around, is it?”

  Dr Hall watched me in amusement before starting again. “Begin to live your life again and do things that seem natural to you. Ask questions about your life, your job, family and friends. The people who are closest to you will give you the answers.”

  “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” The frustration eased slightly. I took solace in the fact that Cat would fill me in on what I’d missed.

  “When the time is right, your memories will come back. But take it slow, Elena. Try not to be in a rush to figure it all out again.” He gave me a serious look. “Eight years is a lot of time to catch up on, and you don’t know how much has truly changed.”

  The seriousness in his tone coupled with the glistening in his eyes told me he only wanted the best for me, and that this course of action was best. He was my only contact to the outside world, and yet I trusted him wholeheartedly.

  “My advice is to go back to your current life and just do…what you normally do every day.” He smiled simply as if it was as clear as day.

  * * *

  “Elena!” My sister’s concerned voice stirred me. I must have fallen back to sleep after finding out I’d missed the last eight years of my life.

  My big sister stormed into the room like a tornado, dishevelled and wild. “You bitch.” She dropped several bags at her feet and ran to my side with unshed tears.

  “Hey, Cat.” Her arms were around me before I even had a second to wince.

  I wondered again what could have driven me to step off a curb without looking. Such a basic instinct drilled into everyone as infants: look both ways. Then the screeching impact of rush hour traffic on one of London’s busiest streets wiped years off my life.

  Cat’s embrace was comforting and warm. Like home. Her thick, curly, dark hair was untamed as always and attempted to suffocate me. Though her crushing strength caused pain to course through my muscles, that familiar scent soothed the agony.

  “You scared the crap out of me.” But she hadn’t let go yet. “I thought you were dead when I got the call, and then I said to myself, if she wakes up, I’ll kill her myself. What kind of Muppet doesn’t look before crossing the road?” she goaded and pulled back to look me over again.

  As she stared at me with something resembling pity, I took a moment to survey her. While she was still my sister and best friend, the eight years I had missed were evident. I’d been deluding myself into believing the amnesia was some sort of elaborate prank, a joke by some bored doctors who’d even printed magazines and newspapers dated 2018 to make the story
believable, but looking into the eyes of someone I’d known my entire life, there was no disputing the years I’d lost.

  Grey hairs peppered her roots, while creases around her eyes made her resemble our mother more than I would ever admit. Cat used to pride herself on showcasing the finest fashion trends, from high-heeled shoes to pricey designer handbags, but had transformed into someone who wore workout leggings and sneakers.

  “Well, honey, you’ve looked better.” She sighed, taking a seat on the bed. “But also, worse. Remember Nana’s funeral?”

  “Oh God, please don’t bring that up. I’m in a hospital bed, I don’t need that kind of guilt.”

  “You had one job, but instead, you knock over poor Nana’s coffin.”

  “How was I going to be able to do anything after we’d finished your hip flask before we even got to the church?”

  “Sambuca hardened you.” Cat giggled.

  “I was fifteen!”

  She rolled her head back, laughing mischievously. “Well, at least you remember something.” Her expression softened as concern took over.

  “Yeah, it’s just the last eight years I have no recollection of.” I sighed as she gave a slow nod.

  This was the first time I’d seen Cat, or at least, the first time I was lucid enough to remember. The nurse said the pain medicine would have that effect. It knocked me out with each additional pump.

  “So what’s new?” I teased as Cat picked up her several bags and moved them closer to the bed before taking a seat again. “What’s been happening in the last eight years? Has that damned ash cloud finally pissed off?”

  “Huh, I forgot all about that. Yes, it’s well and truly pissed off, thank God, but not before leaving you stranded in New York for almost two weeks.”

  “I went to New York?” I asked, receiving a nod. “Did I like it?”

  “It’s New York, who doesn’t like it?” She smiled. “It’s also where you met Jax.”

  “Jax?” I asked, confused before the name popped into my head. “The doctor? We’re friends?”

  “You could say that,” she replied ominously. “Wow, you really don’t remember anything, do you? I actually thought you were just putting it on for attention.” She chuckled as I batted her arm. “So you don’t even remember about your nieces?” I gasped as I remembered she was pregnant. Pregnant eight years ago.

  “Nieces as in more than one?” I beamed as she began riffling through one of her many bags, children’s clothes and other items flying out of the chaotic sack.

  “Why do I carry so much crap? Here.” She grabbed and pulled out a slim, flat object. She began swiping and pressing non-existent buttons as I watched in amazement. “Oh, yeah.” She giggled as she caught my awe. “There’s a lot of new phones. Look at the size of the screen. They need to make jean pockets bigger is all I’m saying. Gone are the days of our sweet little flip-up phones.”

  “Excuse me? I have a BlackBerry, flip-up phones are so 2008,” I joked. “Where are the buttons?”

  She laughs. “Stuck in 2010. Bring back buttons, I say, much easier than all this swiping nonsense. Oh, here it is.” She smiled as she handed the phone to me and revealed two beautiful raven-haired little girls. “The taller one is Abbey, and the little monster with chocolate all over her face is Kate. I swear Kate is adopted. Things were so much simpler when it was just Abbey.”

  She pinched the screen, and it zoomed in on their little faces. They were the perfect mix of Cat and Nick, with Abbey looking more like her mum and Kate having the cheekier features of her dad.

  Having seen the picture of my sister’s Hallmark-like family, complete with a golden retriever, it only cemented the time I’d lost. Cat had the perfect family, and my life was…unknown. In the past two days, I’d been greeted by two people, and one of them was my doctor, paid to treat me. I began to think I mustn’t have had many close relationships.

  “And how is Nick?” I asked, and I swiped to the next picture.

  “He’s good, worried about you, obviously. What a week for him to be hosting a conference in Milan. He flies back tomorrow.”

  “And did he land partner by the time he was thirty-five like he promised?” I raised my brows, knowing that Nick would be inching closer to forty at this stage.

  “He made partner last year, which we thought would be great. More money, more holidays and everything, but it just means later nights working and more overseas travel.” She sighed sadly. “The girls miss their dad, and I miss my husband.”

  I nodded as I continued scrolling. “Well, maybe he could go back to—”

  The thought was lost as I stopped on one picture. I zoomed in on the image of Kate with a little boy, and I felt my breathing catch. It felt like my heart was expanding, but there wasn’t enough room in my chest as I looked at this little boy no older than Kate.

  “Who is that?” I asked but couldn’t tear my eyes from the picture.

  The little boy with sandy-coloured hair grinned at the camera while dressed in a light blue shirt which barely tucked into his grey trousers. Both children looked like they were at a special occasion, as the background captured a busy afternoon in a garden outside a church.

  “Oh, that’s Jamie,” Cat replied offhandedly. “It was taken at Abbey’s communion, and we had the kids all dressed up. Then we went for dinner at Italiano’s. Kate got spaghetti all over her dress, Nick was flipping out…” She went on, but I must admit, I barely heard a word after Jamie.

  “Who is he?” I asked, meeting her gaze, and that was when she fell silent. For the first time in her life. Like she was searching for an explanation but couldn’t find one. “Cat?” I asked again before she blurted out a string of words.

  “He’s…that’s Kate’s…eh. He’s…Jax’s son,” she muttered as she took back the phone and looked down at the screen. “Do you recognise him?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied as she gave me a double take. “He probably just looks like any other kid.” I dismissed but knew I had more of a connection to him.

  * * *

  Jax

  While supressing a huge yawn, the kind that made my eyes water, I stirred the pasta to make sure the tomato sauce was evenly spread out. I tried to battle another yawn just as the front door unlocked and Cat appeared.

  “Hello?” she called, and I heard the girls run from Jamie’s room into the hallway.

  “Mummy,” the girls cheered as Cat bent over and planted kisses on their foreheads.

  “Did you have fun at Aunt Jax’s?” she asked them as she caught me in the kitchen. “She’s not trying to poison us all again with her cooking, is she?” she teased as she walked into the kitchen and toward the stove. “Go get your things, girls, and we will hit the road soon.”

  “I haven’t poisoned anyone intentionally in a long time.” I smirked, pulling out a couple of bowls from the cabinet before turning to her. “I made extra if you want to stay for dinner.”

  “For the third night in a row? It’s okay. I’ve to pick up his lordship and the queen from the airport soon.”

  Elena and Cat’s relationship with their parents was difficult, to put it diplomatically. At least that was how I’d always perceived it. As a very Catholic and Italian family, their parents lived most of the year in Sicily and flew in occasionally to visit their daughters, barely tolerating me and Nick. They were furious when Caterina had Abbey out of wedlock, and when Elena brought me home to meet them, I wasn’t welcomed with open arms either. But the deep-seated issues Elena had with her parents went all the way back to her teenage years, with Elena carrying that shame every day. Her pregnancy had also caused a stir, and then my adoption of Jamie surely played a part in Stefano’s heart attack a few years back. They loved their grandson now and, well, I was tolerated for the sake of Jamie.

  “Your parents are staying at your place, right?” I asked as Cat whimpered, allowing her head to fall into her palms. “And you’re clearly very excited about that.”

  “Oh yeah, I can’t wait for
the judgement of how tiny my house is, how it’s a mess or how I work too much and that I’m failing as a Sicilian woman because my children aren’t fluent in Italian, and the list goes on.”

  “Don’t forget having to explain Elena’s zapped memory,” I added as Cat groaned, banging her head off the fridge. “At least there’s one good thing you can tell your mama. Elena can’t remember when she turned gay and ran off with a lesbian to disgrace the Ricci name.” The room turned quiet as I stirred the pot. “I’m joking.” I tried to lighten the mood, but it seemed I had struck something deeper that Cat and I hadn’t discussed.

  “She will remember, Jax.”

  “Yeah,” I lied as I tried to hide my scepticism. “I know. But for now, I’m just some doctor.”

  “Or her doctor roommate,” Cat mumbled before darting out of the kitchen. “All right, kids, let’s go.”

  Panic emanated from my skin as my mind raced through the implications of Elena living with us platonically. I raced after her and grabbed her before she could seek sanctuary with the children. “Hold on a sec, Cat. What did you tell her?”

  “It just kinda slipped out.” She shrugged. “Old habits and all that.”

  “So you told her she lives with me?” She nodded. “Why would you do that? And who the hell is Jamie supposed to be?”

  “Don’t be an idiot, Jax. He’s your son. Obviously.”

  “Obviously?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, I didn’t lie about that. I just left out the part about who his other mother is.”

  The plot holes in her utterly unconvincing and reckless cover story caused my stress levels to soar, not to mention my heart tightening at the thought of burying my feelings for Elena and pretending to be nothing more than a roommate.

  “Birth mother, you mean? As in, they share the same genes. Mannerisms, looks, surname. Do I need to go on?”

  “Personally, I think I thought quickly on my feet.” She ignored my argument and grew defensive. “We didn’t establish a plan before I went in there. What was I supposed to do when she asked, ‘where do I live?’”