“Well, I don’t know. But you seriously think this half-assed, thrown together plan was a good idea? Really?”
“Jax, you haven’t seen her. She’s basically a blank canvas. She believes everything I tell her, and she’s so spacey that she’s literally not questioning a thing.” She smiled as if proud of herself. “You got this. It’ll be fine.” She gave a patronising thumbs up as she called the girls again, no doubt frantic to get away from her monumental fuck-up.
“And what exactly is supposed to happen when she’s discharged?” I asked as Cat scratched the back of her head. “She moves in here and what, I just climb into bed with her? And don’t get me started on how confusing this is going to be for Jamie.”
Cat chewed on her lip. “Okay, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking of the bigger picture. But think of it this way, there’s no better way to jog her memory than to be here with you and Jamie. In your home, together. I can already tell things are going to come back the more she’s around you two.”
The girls pattered into the hallway and began putting on their shoes as Cat and I grabbed their coats.
“This is a bad idea,” I replied while I grabbed the girls’ backpacks.
“Jax, I was showing her pictures of the girls, and Jamie was in one of them. I swear she recognised him.”
My eyes collided with hers in an instant as an unfamiliar feeling of hope circled in my chest. “She recognised him?”
“Well, she didn’t say as much.”
I rolled my eyes as the newfound hope flew away like a bird.
“But there was something there. She just knew him. I can tell.” I threw her a look before she reached for the doorknob. “Jax, don’t underestimate the telepathic vibes between me and my sister.”
Cat and Elena were more than best friends, more than sisters; they’d a bond that was unbreakable. At times, Nick and I would leave them to talk at lightning speed about work, being mothers, or even just TV. It never helped that they’d speak in Italian, and occasionally, I would hear my name with zero context followed by laughing. I remember finding it intimidating in the beginning when dating Elena. Cat got a mention in every other conversation. Meeting the parents wasn’t as big a deal as meeting the sister. They shared everything, so there was no point in trying to understand their psychic connection.
“Fine, but I want it on the record that all this lying was not my idea.”
“It’s going to work out. I promise. She will have her memories back in no time.” Cat smiled before pulling me into a hug. I hugged her back as I tried to push down all my fears. “And if not, you’ll just have to coerce my little sister out of the closet again,” she said before making her way out the door. “Wave good-bye, kids.”
“Bye, Auntie Jax.”
“Bye, girls.” I waved them off as I closed the door and then turned around, leaning my tired body against the cold surface.
I closed my eyes as I rubbed my face. Even after doing a graveyard shift at the hospital, I never felt this exhausted. Broken. My arms were sore, heavy from the weight of the world. Between emergency shifts, checking in on Elena from afar, and playing taxi to Jamie and the girls, it felt like every day was a hardship. I peeked as the smell of burning forced me back down to earth. Jamie was standing in the middle of the hallway, watching me.
“Hey, Jay, hungry?” He shook his head. “Yeah, same.”
Making my way back into the kitchen, I put up blinders to avoid the dishevelled array of the countertops and dished up dinner. After scraping the bottom of the pot for overcooked pasta with a side of burnt tomato chunks, I threw it into the sink. Or more accurately, I placed it on top of the tower of dirty dishes built up over the last few days.
I poured us both a glass of milk but not before taking note of the scarce contents of the refrigerator. With two bowls and drinks in hand, I moved into the main area of the apartment, which consisted of the living room and dining table. Household chores, basic hygiene, and grocery shopping had clearly taken a back seat. Dirty scrubs and coats lay scattered across the back of the L-shaped couch, and the living room floor was cluttered with shoes, DVDs, and Jamie’s toys. I shifted the paperwork, laundry basket, and toys to one side of the table, trying to create some sort of order and normality.
Jamie sat down opposite me and leaned back in his chair, staring in disgust at the bowl of pasta.
“You gotta eat something, Jay.” I tried to persuade as he stared back at me, unfazed. “It’s really good.” I plastered on a big smile while trying to chow down on the minimal tasting and somewhat lumpy meal.
“When’s Mummy coming home?” he asked in a small but brave voice.
He was small for his five years, but his sweet smile and big green eyes meant he’d never be overlooked in a classroom full of bigger children. From across the table, the look on his face reminded me of Elena, and my heart ached. Their features were too similar, and both possessed the power to make me do anything they wanted. Jamie asked frequently about Elena, and every day, I curved the question, but today, I could run no further.
“For every mouthful of pasta, I’ll answer a question. Sound fair?”
He mulled the offer for a moment before grabbing his fork and taking his first bite. Once he swallowed, he put down the fork, crossed his arms, and asked again, “When’s Mummy coming home?”
“She’s supposed to get discharged from the hospital next week.” His eyes lit up as he went to ask another question, then seemed to remember the game and tried to shovel a huge forkful of pasta into his mouth. “Be careful, Jamie. There’s no rush.”
His eyes went wide with excitement as I pushed his milk closer, and he washed down the pasta. “Mummy is coming home?” I nodded as he danced in his chair. I smiled at him sadly before his next question. “Abbey said that her mummy says that my mummy doesn’t remember anything.”
“Yes, that’s right.” He looked confused for a moment before I went on. “In the accident, Mummy lost some of her memories. She doesn’t remember a lot of stuff, and the doctors don’t think we should tell her everything. Not yet, at least.”
“Why?” he asked as he took another mouthful.
I searched for words I strongly disagreed with. From the second Greg told me we were to keep Jamie a secret, I’d disagreed. He was her son, and Jamie needed his mother, but with Cat also agreeing, I begrudgingly decided to go along with it. Cat was quick to side with Greg despite my arguments that some studies indicated that keeping information from recovering amnesia patients could be unsettling in the long run, and in my personal view, a complete betrayal. However, even I couldn’t argue with Greg’s logic about how much had changed in the last eight years. Elena was an entirely different person. A married woman with a son and successful career. That would be enough to shock anyone, especially the mid-twenties party girl, straight Elena.
“They think it could be too much, too soon,” I said to Jamie. “The doctors said that her memories can come back if she does normal, everyday things.”
“Like go to work?” he asked.
“Yeah, like go to work.”
“And go to the park?”
“That too.” I smiled in surprise at his calm reaction to the plan.
“And drink a whole bottle of grown-up wine?”
“It’s not always an entire bottle.” I had to defend Elena’s fondness for good wine. With a touch of relief that he was understanding the situation, I approached the next topic with care. “But we can’t tell her too much, okay?” He nodded before I took a big breath and readied myself for my next request. “And that means that, for the time being, you have to pretend Mummy isn’t your mummy.”
“Okay,” he replied without skipping a beat.
“Now, Jamie, that means you can’t call her mummy. You have to call her Elena.”
“Duh?” he said with his mouth full. “I’m almost six, I know how to pretend.” I smiled at his tomato-covered face, amazed at how easy this conversation was, something I had dreaded for days. “Does that mea
n she doesn’t know you’re married?”
I took a shaky breath as I tried to get the words out through an aching chest. “That’s right. As far as your mum…Elena knows, we’re just friends. So you think you can keep it a secret?”
Jamie nodded excitedly, almost as if it was a fun game played at the expense of his mum. “You’re gonna have to hide that, then.” He pointed over my shoulder as I turned and followed his gaze to our wedding picture on the side table.
Our wedding day had been one of the best days of my life, a close call between that and the day Jamie was born. It had been a small gathering of family and friends on a summer’s day near the beach in the south of England. There was no reason to make a big fuss as we’d already been happily together for several years.
My eyes travelled around the house as I nodded again. “There’s a lot I’m going to have to hide.”
Chapter Three
“Darling?” the voice cooed in my ear. “Elena? Bella?” I almost opened my eyes before a harsh voice butted in.
“Mama! Don’t wake her. She had brain surgery, for Christ’s sake.”
“Language, Caterina,” my father scolded. “You have daughters of your own. You cannot use unladylike words like that.”
“Sorry, Papa.” Cat groaned, and I could practically hear her eyes roll.
Mother and Papa had been beyond strict when we were growing up. Of course, that was whenever Papa was in the country, and whenever Mother wasn’t having a long wine lunch with the neighbours. Our only role model for years was our British-born au pair, Lily. She couldn’t have been any older than her early twenties, but she cooked, helped us with homework, taught us English, and tucked us into bed at night; most days, we saw her more than our own parents.
Hence why I was a little surprised my parents flew to London in the first place. They hated Britain. In fact, every time we visited, they would try to persuade me and Cat to stay in Sicily. Sure, the wine and weather would be better, and being able to speak fluent Italian would make it a simple transition, but London was my home. I went to high school and university in the UK, and to me, this was home.
“Look at the state of this dump.” Mama’s disgust would be written across her face, which was why I kept my eyes closed, to avoid her disdain. “It’s a wonder she’s still alive.”
“She’s fine, Mama. The NHS is taking good care of her.”
“Ha. The NHS. Useless, broken system,” Papa barked, followed by the unforgettable rustling of a newspaper he was no doubt behind, his favourite hiding spot from responsibility.
“And what about that nurse? Where is she?”
“Jax is a surgeon, Papa. I’m sure she will be up soon. She’s probably just working.”
“I’d rather she didn’t,” my mother muttered. Her comment stirred a defensiveness in me that I couldn’t quite comprehend. “And so she can’t remember a thing?”
“Not of the last eight years, no.” By Cat’s exhausted tone, I knew this was not her first time explaining my amnesia.
“Nothing?” My mother’s shrill voice had me wanting to roll my own eyes. “Very strange. And so she doesn’t remember anything. What about our thirtieth wedding anniversary at the Fairmont?”
“No, Mama, she doesn’t remember your gala ball or, you know, the last eight years of her life.”
“And we’re supposed to just not tell her?”
With a long drawn out sigh, Cat replied, “The doctor said it’s best that she goes back to normal, everyday life and that eventually, her memories will come back.”
“That sounds absolutely ridiculous. What kind of doctors does this country have? Riffraff from off the street.”
“Can I get anyone tea?” The familiar sound of Nick’s smooth voice made me want to smile before I remembered I was faking sleep.
My memories of Nick were filled with carefree bliss. He was like the brother I’d never had, which I guess made him my brother now, considering Cat and Nick were married. He adored my sister. That was the only reasonable explanation as to why he would put himself through a weekend hosting my parents.
“Yes, make yourself useful and get some coffee. Not everyone is obsessed with tea like you Brits.” My mother stroked my forehead, leaving her cold touch behind.
The door shut quietly before Cat spoke up again. “Please, do not order my husband around,” she said through gritted teeth. “You don’t talk to your own husband that way, so refrain from speaking to mine like that.”
“I will never understand what you see in him.”
“Mama!”
“Don’t raise your voice to your mother, Caterina,” my father barked as the room turned silent.
And at that moment, guilt overwhelmed me, knowing that I got to hide behind closed eyes, but my sister was stuck in some sort of beratement hell.
“She’s waking up.” my mother said as she stroked my forehead, and I blinked, adjusting to the light. “Hello, darling. Mama and Papa are here now.”
I fully opened my eyes, and all I could see were my mother’s obnoxiously large diamond earrings. The familiar and overpowering smell of Chanel No. 5 filled my nostrils, making me feel queasy. She pulled back and smiled. Well, it looked like that was what she was trying to do, but the sheer volume of plastic surgery in her face made it unmoving and stiff. It almost looked like she was in discomfort.
“Hi.” My voice cracked before Cat moved to the water station and grabbed me a cup. As I took a sip, she mouthed a thank you, to which I shot a quick smirk. “Thank you for coming all this way, Mama and Papa.”
My father lowered his newspaper and moved to my side of the bed, brushing Cat out of the way. His pale grey suit was pristine, with a sharp white collar, making his white stubble even more noticeable. He scanned the length of my battered body and offered a small smile.
“Of course, darling. How are you feeling?” He kissed the top of my head.
“I’m okay. Sore but okay. I just can’t wait to get out of here. I’ve been here for like—”
“Six days,” a voice interrupted. All heads turned toward the entrance of my room. “Hello, Mr and Mrs Ricci.” Jax gave a small nod.
Jax’s eyes never left mine as she moved farther into the room, toward me. However, my gaze was rudely blocked when Mama began stroking my head again, more affection than I’d ever received from her.
“You’ve been in this hospital for six days, and you’re still not out of this bed. Terrible. Why don’t we see about getting you moved to a real hospital?”
“If I may, Mrs Ricci,” Jax said, but my mother refused to even look at her. “Elena has made terrific progress. She’s moving around and even walking unassisted in physiotherapy, despite the somewhat verbal resistance.”
I grinned, one which Jax returned. She must have spoken to my physiotherapist, and although my walking was still slow, my profanities were in excellent condition.
“We have some of the best hospitals in Sicily. All it would take is a phone call,” Mama almost cooed into my ear.
“She’s doing great here,” Jax tried but was silenced again.
“Elena is our daughter. I think we would know best.” My mother’s glare was like a dagger as the room turned silent.
I’d experienced her haunting stare on numerous occasions, usually during times of disobedience, but sometimes just for existing. I would cower away from that glare, and yet, Jax stood tall, almost unfazed. This clearly wasn’t her first encounter with my mother. Strangely, seeing Jax stand up to her made me want to do the same.
“I’m not going back to Italy,” I said before my mother could sling another demand into the room.
“But, darling,” Papa tried.
“I’m not leaving.” My voice was stern, and it made me feel powerful, like how I imagine my mother felt.
“Who wants coffee?” Nick sang, arriving with a tray of cups. “Hey, Elena’s awake. How you doin’, kid?” He beamed at me, and I smiled back. Nick was quick to take in the tension of the room. “What’d I miss?
”
“Mama, let’s go see the kids at the house. They’re excited to see you both.” Cat tried to usher them out, but they seemed apprehensive. Eyes darting between each other, unsure if they should leave me alone with Jax.
“I have a physio appointment now anyway,” I lied.
My mother nodded. “We will be back tomorrow, bella. Ciao.” She kissed my head again as she collected her Prada bag and fled the room, allowing the temperature to rise again after her icy departure.
* * *
Jax
“Your physio isn’t until tomorrow morning.” I raised a brow once we were alone. “Lying to your parents, not very Catholic of you.”
“Call the pope.” Elena tried to lift herself up in bed, but she winced and gripped her arm in pain. I moved to her side to help prop her up. “Besides, it was either that or throw myself out that window. How is it possible that my parents have become more intolerable with age?”
“They’re a picnic, that’s for sure,” I muttered, placing an extra pillow behind Elena’s back.
My heart rate picked up as I breathed in her scent. Cat had delivered some of Elena’s things a few days ago, and Elena was beginning to smell and resemble her old self again, the woman I had fallen in love with. She smiled politely, and my chest ached when I remembered she had no idea who I was.
I created some distance and crumpled into a nearby armchair, feeling the full weight of exhaustion after the last ten hours on my feet.
“I’m sorry about what they said. How they spoke to you.”
“Consider it forgotten. Trust me, that’s not the worst they’ve…” I had to stop myself. Elena couldn’t remember the countless arguments we had with her parents about our relationship or my adoption of Jamie. Elena scrunched her brow in confusion as I attempted to correct my faux pas. “That’s not the worst thing I’ve heard from a patient’s parents. Nothing is ever quick enough when it comes to recovery.” She nodded, seeming to accept the slipup. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re not leaving…for the best hospitals in the world.”
Aurora Page 3