Her father's posture relaxed and his eyes softened. "Don't forget your mother also saw her brother fall off a cliff."
Barbara nodded.
"She had nothing to do with what happened to Taylor."
"I didn't say she did. I said maybe she knew something."
Her father shook his head. "None of us knew what happened with Taylor that night."
"But…"
"Barbara," her father's voice deepened. "Taylor's death was a tragedy, and the reasons for why or how she died are best left to detectives. This is not something that I want you to worry about. Ramani should have never talked to you about this. She had no business bringing it up. Taylor's death is an unsavory part of a past that your mother and I share. What happened to Taylor and the grief her mom suffered is bad enough. The idea that this poor girl's death may be coloring your life, or Sara and Jesse's, upsets me."
Steam was rising out of the pot and it clicked off. Barbara poured a little water over each red ceramic cone, the coffee foaming up.
"Taylor was your friend, Dad, not some girl. Ramani said you dated."
Her father did that back and forth thing with his jaw, his gaze laser-focused again.
"We were all friends. And yes, Taylor and I dated for a few months. I'm sorry if I came off callous, but it's not something I like to think about, and I know your mother feels the same. The best way to help your mom recover from amnesia is for you kids to just live your life around her. Let her join in as she sees fit. The psychology behind your mother's memory loss is for her therapist to work out. That part is not your problem."
Barbara let her father's words sink in as she poured more water onto their coffees.
"I can't help but try to understand," she said. "If it were me, if I had amnesia, Mom would search. She'd leave no stone unturned to help find me."
"Find you?" Her father echoed.
"Dad, Mom's gone away. It's not her in there. The woman Erica brought back home is… she's not Mom."
Her dad's brows drew together, concern etching a deep crease between them. "What do you mean, exactly?"
Barbara sighed. "She told me…"
"Wait, who's she? Who are you talking about?"
"Mom. She doesn't remember much beyond being sixteen. She doesn't know what things are. It's like she's time traveled."
"Erica––"
Barbara held up her hand, cutting him off.
"Mom's last memory was leaving our house when she was my age. I think––Dad, I think you need to talk to her. She's scared."
Her father's brow smoothed, his forehead lifting, ears pulling back. "Erica says she's not ready to see me."
"I'm not sure Erica even fully gets it." Barbara could feel tears warming her eyes and she took a breath to center herself. When she felt like her voice was steady, she said, "There's a lot to unpack with Mom's condition, and I think she might need your help."
"Did she say that she wants to talk to me?"
"Dad. Listen to me. Who you are right now doesn't exist to her. In her head, she's a… a kid. When she was sixteen, you were her best friend."
Steve's lips thinned.
"I'll call Erica."
"Erica's going to say she needs more time. You need to step up and just go see her."
His nostrils flared. "What do Sara and Jesse know?"
"That she has amnesia. That she's working on getting better. That something's really wrong."
17
Serene - May 1996
* * *
"Oh my god, J, turn it up. I love this song," Taylor shrieked as they sped onto CA-1 South toward Hermosa Beach.
Warm, sultry air heavy with the ocean's scent and impending summer blew through the open windows of the car, freeing wispy strands of hair from Serene's perpetual ponytail. Julie reached over to raise the radio volume as Taylor sang along to “1979” by The Smashing Pumpkins. Serene glanced over to see her lying back against Steve's chest, face tilted up toward him. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss. He touched his lips to hers while his eyes darted up, uncertain about their public display of affection. Taylor's tongue flicked out, tracing his top lip sensually before giving his bottom lip a little nibble. He lowered his gaze back to her and let himself get lost in the kiss for some seconds before pulling away. Serene turned back to face front, a flush of heat flooding her cheeks.
"And we don't know just where our bones will rest," Taylor resumed singing. She had a nice voice, actually, and the fuzzy reverb in the song gave a dreamlike quality to their surroundings. It took the rest of “1979” and Jewel's “Who Will Save Your Soul” before they got to their destination and Julie parked the car. Serene grabbed her skateboard.
"Really?" Taylor said. "You guys are going to skate?"
"You saw us put the boards in the car," Steve said with a shake of his head, his lips compressing with irritation. Serene said nothing, opened the door and climbed out just as “Creep” came blasting over the airwaves.
"No way," Taylor yelled. "I love this song. This is my jam. Don't turn it off yet." She got out of the car, singing while locking her gaze with Serene's.
"You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fuckin’ special."
"Come on, Taylor, you're acting like a dick," Steve said as she sang over him,
"But I'm a creep."
Swiveling her hips, she came so close to Serene that their breasts almost touched. Serene held her ground, chin lifted, refusing to show any weakness to Taylor. Refusing to show Taylor how uncomfortable her blatant display of sexuality was making her. Taylor tossed her hair out of her face and laughed before ducking back into the car to strip down to her bikini. Julie had already done the same, grabbing their beach bag with towels, suntan oil, water and a paperback novel peeking out over the top.
"Alright, you creep," Julie said in mock offense. "Can I turn this off now? You ready to hit the beach?"
Taylor poked out her bottom lip. "Come on, you guys. You skate, like, all the time. Let's go enjoy the S-E-A."
Steve's eyes snaked in Serene's direction.
"Don't look at her," Taylor admonished. "Jesus. You're my boyfriend."
"It doesn't mean you fucking own me," Steve snapped.
His words were like a slap wiping the mocking smile off her mouth. Julie turned off the car as Taylor's face fell from the shock of his lashing anger and she went to her friend's side to poke around in the bag on her shoulder for something to do.
"We'll catch up with you later," Steve said, dropping his board to the ground and pushing off, weaving around a car backing out of its stall. Serene dropped her board too, looking over her shoulder one last time at the two girls. Taylor had similar proportions to her mother, that same pear shape around the stomach, a dip at the belly button, abdomen protruding slightly, a little soft.
* * *
For an hour, they rode around fast and hard, squatting low as they took tight corners, jumping curbs and stairs and flying down sloping streets. Mostly, Serene followed Steve around the beach town, going where he led. They'd practiced a few tricks, not talking, his features set sullenly. There'd been nothing to say anyway, and Serene was okay with quiet. Every minute didn't have to be filled up with chatter. Watching Steve's tall, wiry body, always just a little ahead of her, filled Serene with an overwhelming sense of homesickness. The growing familiarity and the still newness of their friendship made Serene ache for female companionship.
They returned hot, sweaty and ready to hit the water. Taylor and Julie were sprawled out on their towels, skin glistening and golden in the afternoon sun. Julie was reading. Taylor slept, the beginning of a burn forming on her exposed cheek.
"Can I get the keys?" Steve asked when Julie looked up. Wordlessly, she handed him the beach bag, and he dug around inside for the keys. Then he motioned to Serene with his fingers. "Here, give me your board, I'm going to put them away."
She gave it to
him and watched him lope away, intersecting a dark-haired girl who stopped to talk with him. After a minute, he went on his way and the girl continued in Serene's direction. Julie made a face when she saw her coming. "Ugh, Betty Ross," she mumbled.
Betty had pale white skin and her dark hair hung loose and all of one length to her shoulders. She had a small nose ring, another in her eyebrow, two in her bottom lip and a tattoo of a serpent around her left ankle. Her best feature was her mouth, the lips large, bowed and sensuous. She smiled with a lift of a brow at Julie and Taylor, who was still knocked out, before her brown eyes made their way to Serene.
"What do you want, Betty?" Julie asked, her tone leery.
"Absolutely nothing from you," Betty said and then grinned. "So you're the legendary Serene. Rumor has it you're killing it on the skateboard."
"I don't know about that."
"I do. Saw you do a 360 the other day. I'm Bets, by the way."
"Sup." Serene squinted back, a drop of sweat falling from her eyelash and stinging her eye. "I'm going to head in." Serene gestured toward the water.
"Me too." Bets dropped her bag down.
"I'm not watching that," Julie said.
Bets gave her the finger and followed Serene into the water. The momentary shock of cold made Serene catch her breath as she stepped into the placid low tide, but she continued to wade further until she was up to her shoulders and could duck under the mild ripples coming at them. When she came up, Bets was floating on her back, still smiling. She flipped over, treading water, and the two sized each other up.
"How do you know them?" Serene asked.
"Taylor, I've known since kindergarten. She was a spoiled brat then and still is. Made my life hell until about high school when I finally got a backbone and started giving her back some of her own medicine. Julie, she's alright as far as lame-ass shallow bitches go."
Serene laughed. "That ain't a compliment, sis."
"Who says I was giving out compliments? It's more like a who's who of Culver City High School assholes and Julie's, like, no one to get too worked up about. Entitled, self-indulgent, sure, but she's not going out of her way to be mean like her BFF Taylor."
"And Steve?"
Bets wiped the water off her face. "Steve's cool. Why he decided to go out with Taylor makes me wonder, though."
"Wonder what?"
Bets laughed and dove under the water, her white legs splashing up before she reemerged. "If he’s sane," she said with a teasing smile. Then she waved toward shore and Serene watched Steve stride through the tame break until he was in deep enough to swim toward them. When he reached Bets and Serene, Bets took the heel of her hand and pushed against the water's surface, splashing him in the face. He dove under the water and Bets suddenly disappeared under the small lapping waves with a yelp. Serene realized that Steve had grabbed her legs next. By the time she made it back up, he'd already put several yards between them with powerful freestyle strokes. Serene took off after him, Bets following. He dove under, disappearing from view, and then Serene felt something up against her belly. Steve was coming back up, grabbing her around the waist. She struggled and they became intertwined in each other's arms. Serene felt alive and surging with strength, invincible in her youth, the cold water and hot sun a tonic for the homesickness that had threatened to engulf her earlier. They played in the water for a good half hour, only returning to shore when Taylor and Julie decided to join them. Serene watched the two girls gingerly make their way into the water, shrieking at each little wave that came at them.
A rouge mark of a burn colored Taylor's left cheek, the ends of her hair trailing in the choppy water. "Hi babe," she called out to Steve, a smile flickering on her lips, her eyes darting from Serene to Bets and back again. Steve flipped his mop of wet hair off his face. Expressionless he swam back to the beach. Taylor's arms moved back and forth in the current and she rolled her eyes, which were beginning to fill with tears. Seconds later, she completely submerged herself and came back up, smoothing her hair back.
"You okay?" Julie asked in a low voice.
"Whatever, yeah, totally fine." Taylor smiled, nostrils flaring before diving back under again.
* * *
It was over that day between Steve and Taylor.
Serene and Steve went home in Bets’ car. Steve sat in the back, glaring pensively out his open window, the wind whipping at his wet locks, David Bowie's Heroes blasting from the radio. Serene closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her.
Steve and Taylor. Finished.
Just. Like. That.
18
Dora - February 2020
* * *
The scream. It lifted the hair on her body. She knew Cedar fell before she saw the empty ledge where he'd been a second before, Krista scolding him to come away. Serene lunged across the pool, knocking her shin hard against a stone embedded in the earth of the swimming hole. It split her skin wide open, but she felt nothing. She shrieked her brother's name. Krista made it to the cliff edge before Serene could, sinking to her knees, bending over. The second scream was Krista's. Nonchalant, never-bothered-to-get-worked-up-about-anything Krista. That second scream came at Serene like a hatchet, psychically cleaving her in half, numbness flooding through her bloodstream. Krista wouldn't let her near where Cedar had fallen.
"He might still… We have to get down there."
Her memories. Fast snapshots of time. Krista is here. Krista is there. Scrambling up the embankment. Looking up at Krista's bikini-clad bottom. Flabby thighs puckered with fat as she climbs the steep trail with a strength and speed Serene never knew she had.
There is a different trail they have to take to the ocean.
Ramani is with them now.
Aarav is running ahead.
"He fell."
"What? What?" Ramani's hands grasp Krista's arm. Face unrecognizable. Her mother lets go of Krista and sprints after Aarav.
"Stay here!" Krista yelled to Serene, running after them.
But Serene didn't.
She didn't stay.
She went.
Cedar.
Cedar!
* * *
Her scream sent her shooting up to a sitting position, body damp and chilled from cooled sweat. For a moment, she couldn’t make out where or how. It was her room, but it was wrong. She was on a futon––not her futon––and there was something big in the corner. The door opened, light flooding in from the hallway. Someone stood in the doorway. An unfamiliar voice.
"Dora. You're having a nightmare."
Dora?
The person moved toward her. Serene scooted her bottom back until she was up against the wall.
"Where's Ramani?"
The figure halted. "Dora. It's me, Erica. You're half asleep.
The haze of confusion was melting away, familiarity seeping in. Dora. I'm Dora. Serene felt her muscles begin to relax.
"I'm okay," she managed to say.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I just need some dry clothes. I'm sweating."
"I'll go get you something," Erica said and turned to leave. Serene could feel her heart slowing down. The door was still open; in the light, she could see the thing in the corner was a desk. Before Erica helped her lay out this makeshift bed, they'd moved the chair out to the living room and pushed the filing cabinet against the wall next to the desk to create enough floor space. Erica returned with a second pair of pajamas.
"There's a lamp on your desk if you don't want to turn on the overhead light," she said, pausing at the door.
"Thank you," Serene replied, voice low. Erica waited a few more seconds before stepping out. Serene stood up, turned on the lamp and closed the door. She peeled off her damp PJs and put the dry ones on. Done, she stood for a moment, undecided on whether or not she should return to bed.
Ramani.
Eyes narrowed into slits of anger. You're lying!
Serene hugged herself, twisting her waist from side to side, squeezing her eyes shut.
> You're lying. Fucking liar.
* * *
Picking up her phone, Dora opened her Facebook App, went to her page to the Friends tab and typed in Mara's name. Clicking on the image of the woman, she scrolled through her feed. She was a photographer––weddings, primarily. There were the usual pictures of family and friends. Dora was in a lot of the images. They had been close. Dora enlarged a photo of Mara at the beach with a man.
Enzo?
He was so old looking, the skin of his face weathered with vertical lines up and down his top lip, deep grooves around his mouth, bags under his eyes and a receding hairline. Greying hair fanned across his chest, but his body was still toned.
Dora's eyes wandered over to Mara, smiling for the shot, her blue eyes squinting from the sun, lips and cheeks plump in a way that reminded Dora of a plastic doll's face. They were sitting side by side under a shade umbrella, Mara's long slim legs stretched out. She didn't look like she'd birthed four kids. Dora scrolled to the next picture. It was another of her with Mara. They were at some event, dressed in evening wear, Erica and Cuppa with them as well. There was nothing familiar about this woman to Dora. Back when she was Serene, she doubted she would have been close to this Mara person who reminded Dora of a womanly version of Taylor.
Detective Anders had stopped by again to question her about Mara two days ago. Erica had been with her that time, sitting close to Dora like a guard monitoring the situation, losing her patience after a while and finally speaking up.
"She can't answer questions about the day Mara disappeared or the days leading up to her disappearance. Dora has amnesia. You know this. You've talked to her doctor and her psychotherapist. She can't help you. How can she tell you what she was doing the day Mara went missing when she can't even remember something as significant as being a mom and a wife? But I'll tell you one thing: she and Mara were good friends and Dora had no reason to want to hurt Mara. None."
Her Last Memory Page 9