Rescuing Mary

by Susan Stoker

  “Almost four thousand dollars,” she told him proudly.

  Truck choked. “Seriously?”

  Annie nodded. “Daddy’s friends say a lot of bad words,” she said nonchalantly, then wiggled her fingers impatiently.

  Truck leaned over, pulled his wallet out of his pocket, took out a five-dollar bill, and put it in Annie’s hand. She beamed at him and climbed off his lap. She ran over to Fletch and waved the money in front of him. “Look, Daddy!”

  “I see, squirt.”

  Annie smiled happily and went back over to where Truck was sitting on the couch. “Does your head hurt?” she asked.

  Truck immediately envisioned Mary asking him the same question. He should be sick of people asking him that by now, but for some reason, he didn’t mind if Annie or Mary asked. “A little.”

  “Oh. Then you should rest some more. Mommy says when something hurts that there’s nothing like a good nap to fix it.”

  “Your mom sounds smart.”

  “She is. Her belly hurts all the time so she sleeps a lot right now. But that’s just my brother being impatient to come out and meet me.”

  “Your brother, huh?” He looked up at Fletch. “You didn’t tell me you were having a son.”

  “That’s because we don’t know the gender of the baby. Annie just hopes it’s a boy. She wants a brother she can play with.”

  “It is a boy,” Annie insisted. “I know it.”

  “Just because you want something, doesn’t make it true,” Truck said gently. He had no idea where the words were coming from, but he had a vague recollection that he’d had this exact thought in the past. About what, he had no idea, and that frustrated him. “I might really, really want to remember you and my other friends, but just because I want to, doesn’t make it happen.”

  Annie pouted. “But…girls are stupid! And mean. I want a baby brother I can show my Army man to and play in the dirt with. I want to teach him how to do the obstacle course at Daddy’s work.”

  “You can teach a baby sister to do those things,” Fletch told her. “And who’s being mean to you, squirt?”

  Annie’s lips pressed together before she mumbled, “No one.”

  Fletch sighed.

  “You know what drives bullies crazy?” Truck asked Annie.

  “No, what?”

  “When you ignore them. When they can’t get a reaction out of you.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “Because people were mean to me when I was in school.”

  “They were?” Annie’s eyes got huge in her face. “But you’re so big you could squash them like a bug. I’m littler than everyone.”

  “I wasn’t always this size,” Truck said. “I was always tall, but I was skinny. So skinny people would call me beanpole.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I learned to ignore the people who said that about me. Besides, if they were mean, I didn’t want to be their friend anyway.”

  “Even if they were popular and everyone liked them?” Annie asked in a quiet voice.

  “Even then. Do what you like to do, Annie. And to hell with what they think. Having one real friend is so much better than having ten fake friends.”

  “I like Amy. She’s in my class and she’s nice.”

  “Then be Amy’s friend, and don’t worry about everyone else. Besides, if kids don’t like you, they’re missing out. I’ve only known you for a little while and I think you’re amazing.”

  She giggled. “You’ve known me for longer than that, Truck.”

  “Nope.” He tapped his temple.

  “Oh, yeah! I forgot.”

  Truck smiled at her. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.”

  “Thanks, Truck,” Annie said, and gave him a hug. “Oh, but one more thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You owe me another five dollars. You said h-e-double hockey sticks.”

  Truck mock scowled at her. “Guess your memory is really good, huh?”

  “Yup,” she said happily.

  Truck hadn’t yet put his wallet back in his pocket, so he pulled out another five and handed it to Annie.

  “Come on, squirt, we’ve bilked Truck out of enough money for one day, I think.”

  “Bilked?”

  “Conned, swindled, bamboozled.”

  “Bamboozled! I like that word,” Annie screeched, then proceeded to repeat it over and over as she headed for the door to Truck’s apartment with his five-dollar bills in her hand.

  Truck stood and followed Fletch and his little girl to the door.

  “Can I start the car?” Annie asked, looking up at her dad with big pleading eyes.

  “Sure,” Fletch said and pulled a key fob from his pocket.

  Annie grinned and turned to Truck. “I love pushing the magic button!” And with that, she was out the door and running for the parking lot.

  Truck watched as she went straight to a Highlander that was a couple years old and climbed inside. They heard it start up and saw Annie wave at them from inside the car.

  “She’s amazing,” Truck told his friend.

  “Thanks. I can’t take too much credit for that. That was all Em.”

  “She’s also a handful,” Truck observed.

  “Now that I’ll take some credit for,” Fletch said with a laugh.

  “She being bullied?” Truck asked.

  “I guess so. She hasn’t said anything at home, but then again, we’ve been pretty worried about Emily. Annie’s a naturally happy kid and doesn’t complain much about anything.”

  “Keep your eye on her,” Truck said. “It might not be a big deal now, but it can be hell on a teenager with raging hormones.”

  “Sorry you had to go through that,” Fletch told his friend.

  Truck shrugged. “Long time ago.”

  “Still.”

  Truck nodded.

  “You okay?” Fletch asked.

  Truck turned to him and raised an eyebrow in question.

  “She said a lot in there. Did it bring anything back?”

  “No. But…” He paused, not sure how to explain the weird feelings of déjà vu.

  “What?”

  “I feel as if the memories are there. It’s like when you can’t think of a word, but you know you know it. It’s on the tip of your tongue but you can’t spit it out.”

  “Is that different from how you felt last week?” Fletch asked.

  “Yeah. At first it happened only occasionally. But lately it gets triggered by smells, by seeing random things, like when I went to that meeting last week on post and sat inside the meeting room, or when your daughter laid her hand on my cheek.”

  Fletch nodded. “That’s good.”

  “I hope so.”

  A horn sounded from the parking lot and both men turned to look at the Highlander. Annie was smiling and waving at them again.

  “Guess that’s my cue to get my ass in gear.”

  “Five bucks,” Truck quipped.

  “It only counts if she hears it.” Fletch grinned, then clapped his hand on Truck’s shoulder. “Thanks for being so great with her.”

  “Wasn’t a hardship,” Truck said dryly.

  “Thanks anyway. You made her day. Week. Month. See ya later.”

  And with that, Fletch headed for his car and his little girl.

  For a second, Truck was jealous of his friend. They’d all been single for so long, it hadn’t occurred to Truck that everyone might have found women to make their lives complete.

  He felt left out. As if he’d been left behind. Which was stupid, but he couldn’t help the thought. And that led him to thinking about Mary and the nature of their relationship. He couldn’t deny he had feelings for her. But defining them was harder. A part of him felt as if he loved her. Which was crazy, since he didn’t really even know her any longer.

  But another part of him was wary. As if his brain was cautioning him to go slow with her, to hold back for some reason
. He had a feeling Mary could really hurt him. He never let women get too close because he’d been let down by them time after time. It was frustrating not knowing exactly what his relationship with Mary had been like.

  But watching Fletch with Annie, and knowing he was going home to his pregnant wife, made Truck want that too. He wanted to come home to Mary. Wanted her to smile when he came through the door and welcome him with open arms.

  Hearing his stomach growl, Truck smiled ruefully. Wanting things wasn’t going to magically make them happen. He’d been given a fresh start with Mary, and he was going to take it. Pretend as if whatever had happened between them in the past was just that…in the past.

  He might never remember where they’d been, but he looked forward to seeing where they’d end up in the future.

  Smiling, Truck shut his apartment door and wandered into the kitchen to make a late lunch/early dinner. He had time to get to know Mary before he had to go back to work, and that’s just what he was going to do. He’d spend the next couple of weeks going on dates with her. Talking. Getting to know her.

  He’d either regain his memory or not. Either way, he wanted to have Mary at his side, as his girlfriend, when he went back to work.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mary stood in the doorway of the safety-deposit vault and warily watched the young man inspect it. She’d had her suspicions a couple weeks ago that something was going on at the bank, but now she was sure of it.

  This was the tenth young man who’d come in asking about renting one of the boxes in the last two and a half weeks. They had all dressed in suits and ties, but they couldn’t cover up all of their tattoos. They were on their necks and the backs of their hands. Some even had a few on their faces.

  She hadn’t seen the two men who had tried to hold up the bank a month or so ago. Last she knew, they were still in jail, pending a trial, but if she had to guess, she’d say that these men were in the same gang. She’d once again brought it up to her boss, Jennifer, who’d said that she didn’t think it was anything to worry about, but she’d look into it.

  Mary didn’t believe her, but what could she do?

  This young man was a bit more obvious in asking questions about the security of the vault and the boxes than the others had been. He also wanted to know who else had a key to the boxes and what would happen if he ever lost his key. She explained there were two keys needed to open each box. The bank had one and the owner of the box had the other. They had to be inserted at the same time and left in the box as it was removed. There were procedures in place if someone lost their key, but it took a couple days to make a new one.

  It was impossible to open more than three boxes at once, because that was how many master keys the bank had on hand, but she didn’t tell the customer that though.

  “What happens if there’s a fire?” the man asked. “Would my stuff be protected?”

  “If you’re asking if the boxes are fireproof, they are,” Mary said as calmly as she could.

  “Hmmm,” the man said. “And if me and my buddy wanted to get to our stuff at the same time, could we do that?”

  “No. Only one patron is allowed in the vault at a time.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  Mary shrugged. “It’s company policy.”

  “What if—”

  “Mary!” Rebecca, one of the other tellers, yelled as she came down the hallway toward the vault.

  She turned and saw the other woman was holding her cell phone. “Your phone’s been ringing off the hook. Jennifer is pissed, but I saw it was your friend, Rayne. I thought it might be important and— Oh…sorry, I didn’t realize you were still giving the tour.”

  “We’re just about done here, I think.”

  “I can finish for you, if you want,” Rebecca said tentatively. Mary knew the other woman was just as uneasy about all the young men coming in and inquiring about the safety-deposit boxes, so she shook her head. “Not necessary.” She turned back to the man. “Mr. Smith,” she mentally rolled her eyes at the obviously fake name he’d given them, “you’ve got the application. You can drop it off anytime between nine and four-thirty, Monday through Friday.”

  “Right. Thanks,” the man said, then walked out of the vault. He brushed against Mary as he passed. “Sorry,” he said belatedly—and with a suggestive smile on his face.

  Mary bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying something she might regret. She walked Mr. Smith out to the lobby, and she and Rebecca watched as he sauntered out into the afternoon heat.

  “Something is definitely up,” Rebecca said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Mary agreed.

  “Did you hear the latest rumor about the bank?” Rebecca asked.

  “No, now what?”

  “Corporate wants to get rid of the tellers and put automatic machines in the lobby. They think it will deter robberies like the one last month.”

  “Shit. So we’ll all lose our jobs?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess most of us would. They need to keep some of us to run the drive-through and to take care of things the machines don’t do…like people ordering foreign money and things like that. But they want to automate as much as possible, like deposits, withdrawals, and balance inquiries.”

  “Damn,” Mary said, then shrugged. “Guess it’s time to see what else we can find, huh?”

  “But this is all I’ve ever done,” Rebecca said. “I mean, it’s not exactly my dream job, but after eight years, and a degree in general studies, I’m not sure what else I can get.”

  Mary shared her fellow teller’s concerns, but tried to stay positive. “We’re organized and trustworthy. We’ll find something.”

  Just then, the cell phone in her hand rang again, and Mary saw it was Rayne calling once more. “I’ll just be a second,” she told Rebecca.

  The other woman nodded and headed for her position behind the counter.

  “Hello?” Mary answered.

  “Em’s at the hospital,” Rayne said, not bothering with a greeting. “She started bleeding this morning and Fletch called nine-one-one.”

  “Oh no! Is she okay?” Mary asked.

  “We don’t know yet.”

  “Are you at the hospital?”

  “Yeah. Can you get here?”

  “I still have three hours left on my shift.”

  “Tell your boss it’s an emergency.”

  “I don’t think she’s gonna care,” Mary said almost hysterically. “Where’s Annie?”

  “She’s here, and she’s freaking out.”

  The thought of Em being in the hospital with complications was heartbreaking, but knowing Annie was stressed was beyond anything Mary could handle. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes or less,” Mary told Rayne.

  “What about your boss?” Rayne asked.

  “As you said, this is an emergency. I’ll think of something.”

  “Don’t do anything drastic,” Rayne ordered.

  “Who, me?” Mary quipped.

  “Yes. I know you.”

  “Whatever. Are the guys there?”

  “Beatle is. The others were in a meeting and couldn’t get out of it. They’ll be here as soon as they can.”

  “And Truck?”

  “I haven’t called him yet.”

  “I’ll call him,” Mary told Rayne. She and Truck had been spending a lot of time together in the last two and a half weeks. They were officially dating, and it felt good and weird at the same time. She’d never dated Truck. They’d gone from picking on each other in the way two kids in elementary school would, to him forcing her to move in when he found out how sick she was, to them getting married.

  But over the last couple weeks, they’d gone out to eat, watched movies at each other’s apartments, taken walks, and had even gone on a weekend trip to Enchanted Rock in nearby Fredericksburg. It was fascinating getting to know Truck without her sickness being a factor. She already knew he was funny, protective, and bossy, but she’d also found out ot
her little things about him. Like the armadillo was his favorite animal of all time, and that he was ticklish, and she’d heard countless stories about his sister, Macie, and how close they were growing up.

  Mary had fallen even harder for the man, if that was possible.

  They’d made out a couple of times, but she’d stopped things before they went too far, scared he’d feel her fake boobs and ask questions. Mary knew she needed to talk to him before someone else blabbed about her cancer, but she hadn’t been able to find a good time to do so.

  Besides, she was enjoying being “Mary” and not “Mary who has cancer” for once.

  “Cool. The girls will also get here as soon as they can, other than Kassie, who isn’t comfortable bringing Kate to the hospital with all the germs yet,” Rayne told her. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Bye,” Mary said and clicked off the phone. She thought fast. What could she do to get Jennifer to let her leave work early? She didn’t have a lot of sick time saved up after coming back to work, but she had to have at least three hours she could use.

  Sighing, she decided to just suck it up and talk to Jennifer. It wasn’t as if she loved this job anyway. If she got fired for having an emergency and needing to leave, so be it.

  Taking a deep breath, Mary went to Jennifer’s office and knocked.

  Her boss looked up and impatiently asked, “Yes?”

  Mary quickly outlined what was happening and waited to see what her boss’s decision would be.

  “You’ve already missed a lot of work, Mary.”

  “I know, but I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t really important.”

  “Between this and harassing our customers, you’re pushing your luck,” Jennifer said.

  Mary swallowed the harsh retort on the tip of her tongue. She wasn’t harassing customers. She’d brought her safety concerns to her boss—like she was supposed to do. Biting the inside of her cheek, she kept silent.

  Finally, Jennifer sighed. “Fine. But no more. I mean it.”

  Mary nodded quickly, extremely relieved. “Thank you,” she said and turned to leave.

  Jennifer stopped her. “Mary?”

  Mary spun back around to face her boss. “Yeah?”