by A. Mashburn
It had quickly gotten old and most days she felt like something was missing—like a piece of the puzzle was trying to fit its way back in but kept missing its mark. She had always focused on solidifying a future for herself and at one time saw her path as clear as day. Lately though, nothing seemed certain, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the black hole in her memory was coming for her.
She placed her head in her hands and let her shoulders droop as a headache started right behind her eyes. Just what I need, she thought with another sigh. She had been having migraines accompanied by panic attacks lately and the doctors found nothing physically wrong with her, so they chalked it up to stress. Stress, however, did not explain time lapses. Occasionally, she found herself somewhere different than where she had originally closed her eyes.
“Gretch?”
Gretchen’s body jerked in surprise as she heard Mo’s voice from across the room. With her hand over her heart, Gretchen turned to see Mo rush through the door to Gretchen’s room.
“Gretch, what are you doing? You’re going to be late.” Gretchen rolled her eyes at her friend and slowly moved from her vanity to her closet.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mo asked.
“Just another godforsaken headache; nothing to worry about. I’m just about ready—”
Mo silenced her by placing her wrist to Gretchen’s forehead. “You’re pretty warm. Are you sure you’re not sick? You’ve been working a lot lately.”
With a tilt to the corner of her lips Gretchen assured her, “No, no. I’m fine, just exhausted. Thank God the season is over. I can finally take some time to relax over the next couple of months and focus my energy on moving from fashion to something more serious—”
“What?” Mo cut her off again, with a shocked expression on her face.
Gretchen slid her gaze toward her best friend whose mouth was agape and laughed lightly. “Come on Mo, you know that fashion was just to get my foot in the door. I don’t want to be there forever. Yes, it was glamorous, but I want my work to mean something.”
“It does mean something,” Mo raised her voice, feigning shock and disgust, “don’t you see?” She motioned to her newest outfit that she borrowed from Gretchen’s closet of clothes from various fashion shows she’d covered. Gretchen smiled when she noticed that it just happened to be her newest addition from the show she’d covered last week. The outfit consisted of a pair of emerald capris and a golden halter top that worked beautifully with Mo’s golden skin and pixie haircut.
Gretchen couldn’t help but be amused by Mo’s antics as she fished through her drawer for the migraine medication.
“Are you nervous?” Mo asked, changing the subject.
Gretchen shrugged a shoulder in response. “Jeremy has wanted me to meet his parents for a while. I guess it’s time.”
As Mo watched Gretchen look for her medication, she found herself moving across the room to the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight and she observed her friend for the first time in a while. Even as exhausted as Gretchen seemed, she was much prettier than she thought she was. Gretchen had beautiful olive skin with a scatter of freckles across her nose. She was on the shorter side, about five-foot five-inches tall and curvy, but in the best way and in all the right places, with thick thighs and ample breasts.
Gretchen had the most beautiful hazel eyes that changed colors with her mood, and as if that weren’t enough, she sported the most unique color hair; a perfect blend of red and blonde, that in the sun always reminded Mo of fire. It was very fitting because she was one of the most passionate people Mo knew. Gretchen wore her heart on her sleeve and would do everything she could to help those around her, Mo included.
Even with, or maybe primarily because of the gaping hole in her memory, Gretchen made sure that everyone she knew understood what they meant to her. Lord help the soul who crossed someone Gretchen claimed as hers. As kind as she was, she was ruthless when it came to protecting the people she loved.
Mo watched her friend pick out a simple black A-line dress with a slit up the thigh. Very professional, sleek, and almost sexy but not too revealing, she thought.
Gretchen picked up a chic, thigh-length trench coat to pair with her ensemble. Mo thought about the awful scars on Gretchen's back and wished that her friend knew how much of a warrior, a survivor, she was. Mo sighed again as she laid her head on the bedpost and wished—not for the first time— that things were different. She wished that Gretchen had her memories so that she could know how utterly unique and valued she was.
“So, you finally decided to meet Jeremy’s family tonight?” Mo asked as she tried to change her train of thought.
“Mhmm,” Gretchen answered nonchalantly as she slipped on a pair of kitten heels. “How do I look?”
“Nice as always. I just feel like you’re more business and less play today than usual. Are Jeremy’s parents scouting you for a position at their company that I’m not aware of?” Mo teased and walked to the closet. She began riffling through Gretchen’s things as she searched for something that she felt was better suited the kind of event her friend was going to. Dinner with his parents, Mo thought, what a joke. “I thought he was taking you to some fancy restaurant?” she asked Gretchen.
“He’s taking us to Barelli’s.”
“Aha!” Mo yelled in triumph. She held up a mid-thigh, rose-gold colored dress that was cinched to one side to highlight her thin waist with elegant diamond accents and a very deep V in the back. “I’ve never seen you wear this before, and it would pair perfectly with your skin tone.”
Mo eyed Gretchen hopefully. “Come on,” she pleaded, “it’s perfect, and you know it.”
Gretchen looked at her friend and smiled. “I want to make a good impression, that’s true, but I don’t want to overdo it either.” She fingered the silky material. “You can have that you know. As beautiful as it is, I’ll never wear it with an open back.”
Mo looked to her friend with sadness in her eyes. “You know, your scars don’t define you. You are strong, Gretchen; you are a survivor. I wish you wouldn’t try to cover up your past. It’s part of you, and you are amazing.”
A lump formed in Gretchen’s throat as she studied her friend. “I love you; you know that, right?” she choked out.
“I know you do, and I love you, too.”
Mo felt Gretchen’s arms wrap around and engulf her as she heard Gretchen whisper in her ear. “I can’t be proud of my past when I don’t know what it is, Love.” Gretchen released Mo from the embrace and walked out of the room to grab her keys.
“Wait, he isn’t picking you up?” Mo squealed and ran after her.
“I love you—be good. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone. As for me, I’ll be fine.” Gretchen teased, pecking Mo on the cheek. She gave Mo a half-smile and shut the door behind her.
“You’re too good for him!” Gretchen heard her friend yell down the hallway of their flat. She shook her head, amused by the way Mo always acted when it came to her relationship with Jeremy. Gretchen got the distinct feeling that Mo didn’t exactly root for her to stay with him.
Gretchen took a moment to chide herself for being so wishy-washy about meeting Jeremy’s parents. Jeremy was a good man, really. Maybe not the most exciting sort, but good, nonetheless. He was safe, steady, reliable and successful, albeit a bit full of himself. Gretchen released a sigh, praying she could feel differently than she did. She knew Jeremy was a safe choice. However, something inside her didn’t scream endgame when she thought of him. The fact was that there was rarely any excitement, just dependability and a sense of comfort. That should be enough, right? She shook her head as she headed towards the sidewalk in front of her building.
Instead of driving, she decided to flag down a cab. The driver pulled up to the curb and she felt the wind caress her skin. She lifted her nose into the breeze and the most incredible smell enveloped her senses, lemon and pine, she thought. Her tense shoulders relaxed a little at the familiar aroma. She n
ever understood why, but the smell seemed to be wherever she was, so much so, she once asked Mo if that’s what she smelled like. Mo had vehemently said she didn’t smell anything like that. Yet, the smell still lingered wherever she happened to be, and it always brought a sense of comfort and longing with it.
Gretchen closed her eyes while she savored the scent for just a moment longer, then opened the cab door and looked around searching. For what? She didn’t know. A sense of familiarity washed over her, and the strangest feeling hit her right in the pit of her stomach. It was as though someone had been watching her; she could almost feel his eyes as they raked over her body. Still, instead of being scared, she felt anticipation as the familiar sensation caressed her consciousness.
She peered into the darkness, to the top of the building across from hers. She stared into the shadows and felt rather than saw his presence. Why she thought it was a man was unknown to her, but she’d felt the presence since she was a little girl, and it was always accompanied by that fresh lemon scent mixed with the wilderness of pine. Although she knew in her bones he was there, she never got the feeling she was in any danger. It just was, as weird as it sounded, a normal occurrence in her life, as was the sense of safety that accompanied it.
“You gettin’ in, lady?” the cabbie asked.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” she said, as she shook her head to rid herself of her inner musings and got into the back of the cab. As she closed the door, she still couldn’t seem to shake the ominous feeling that had seeped into her bones.
Gretchen’s heart clenched, I guess this is what it’s like to meet the parents of the man you lo—really like. Even after a year into the relationship, that word hadn’t been spoken.
She shook her head. “Barelli’s please; off of Fifth and Main?”
The cabbie peered at her intently for a moment before stating, “I know the place, have ya there in ten.”
The farther they went from her apartment, the more a sense of impending doom settled like a boulder in her stomach.
He stood alone in the shadows on the apartment roof as he saw Gretchen exit the building. He watched as she walked to the street to hail a cab. Her scent had been getting stronger. As the wind blew, the smell of lavender and vanilla hit his nose; he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with her essence. He tried to look away but couldn’t take his eyes off her as she looked around, searching for something. As though she could feel his eyes on her, she glanced to the rooftops, and he moved farther into the darkness.
He sensed her every movement and saw even the nuances in behavioral shifts. His skin lit up in awareness as her eyes raked across his invisible form and though she’d never know, he saw all the churning emotions she hid so well from everyone else as they swirled in her hazel depths. She didn’t remember him, he just watched her from afar and made sure she was always safe from harm; a silent presence until it needed to be known.
As the cabbie pulled up to the restaurant, Gretchen leaned forward to pay the fare. The cabbie thanked her, and as she looked in the rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of his eyes. For a moment, she was motionless, trapped within the pools of emerald green and golden swirls that illuminated his aged face. She tore her gaze away from the hypnotizing colors and expressed her gratitude to the cabbie, “Thank you, sir.”
The cabbie cleared his throat, “Thank you—listen, Miss,” he called as she exited the cab, “you be careful out there, Princess; this city can be a dangerous place for people like us.”
She smiled at the man. “Yes, sir!” She gave him a small salute, to which he shook his head in amusement as she closed the door.
Barelli’s was a fancy restaurant in the shopping district of Bylorville, New York, a beautiful upscale city. The stores and the fashion market were phenomenal, but what really shone were the restaurants. She entered through the front revolving doors and was quickly greeted by coat check. She gave them her name and was escorted to the table where Jeremy and his parents sat. As she approached, her heart began to race and the lights around her shone like miniature suns that burned her retinas. Damn migraines. Damn anxiety. Come on, not tonight, not tonight... she pleaded with herself.
“Ohhh, this must be Gretchen!” a woman exclaimed excitedly as Gretchen was wrapped in a warm embrace.
“Mom, Mom, calm down; let her breathe,” Jeremy chuckled as he pried his mother from around Gretchen’s neck.
“You look good.” Jeremy smiled lazily as his eyes scanned Gretchen’s body from head to toe.
She smiled up at him and returned the onceover. “Well, you clean up pretty well yourself.” He stood just under six-foot with an athletic build, blond hair and blue eyes. He was attractive with his charming smile and straight white teeth. He gave her a half-hug and a kiss on the cheek; she tried to hold back the grimace as his cologne assaulted her nose. He placed his hand on her lower back and ushered her to her seat. She sighed in relief as he left her side, taking his overpowering scent with him.
“This is my mother, Naomi, and my father, David,” Jeremy smiled, “and of course, as both of you know, this is Gretchen.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” his mother waved her hand, gently reprimanding him. “There is no need for these formalities, Son,” she laughed playfully, “we’ve heard so much about her I feel like I’ve known her for some time now. It’s been long overdue for us to meet her.” As Naomi went off on a tangent about the time it had taken for them to meet each other, Gretchen’s ears started ringing. Pain lanced through her brain and she feigned pushing a hair from her face to disguise the massage her pounding temple demanded.
“She is just stunning,” his mother exclaimed. “Jeremy was telling us about your journalism career Honey; you’re over at MACs, isn’t it?”
“Yes ma’am, it is. I started as a junior intern but quickly moved up into the fashion sector,” Gretchen answered, as she masked her grimace with a smile.
“Oh, I have read some of your articles, dear; quite the following you have.” She smiled politely and looked pointedly at her son as he began telling them of Gretchen’s many accomplishments.
As Gretchen listened to him brag about her achievements, she couldn’t help but feel as if she were just another trophy for him; another prize he could own and put on a shelf and take down when he wanted to show it off. Maybe that was a bit unfair of her, but it’s how he made her feel and that feeling caused anger to simmer just beneath the surface. She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves and her possibly unjust anger, which escalated from a low simmer to full-blown rage. Breathe, she thought to herself. Just breathe through it.
As Gretchen watched the game of verbal ping pong between Jeremy and his parents, the pain in her head worsened, and her anger continued to rise to dangerous proportions. Nothing about the conversation was about her or who she really was. Didn’t they want to know she was more than just a pretty face or what she could offer for their son’s social status? The light above the table seemed to become unbearably bright, and her vision began to turn fuzzy on the edges.
“I’m sorry if you will excuse me, I need to—I need to go,” she breathed out as she excused herself from the table.
“Dear, is everything okay?” Jeremy’s mother asked.
“I’m sorry, yes—” she shook her head, “I mean, no. I don’t feel well; I’m so sorry, I have to go—” she stammered as she held her head and raced to the bathroom without another word.
What in the fuck is happening to me? She thought, feeling as though she were going to climb out of her skin. I need to get out of here, I should never have come. The room began to spin, and she put cool water on her face and neck. When that didn’t work to ease any of her troubles, she cataloged the steps she needed to take as she tried to ground herself. First, she needed to go to the coat check to grab her things, then hail a cab without making a scene. She inwardly groaned as another shot of pain sliced through her body. Please, she thought to herself. I just need to get home.
She repeated the mantra, stay calm, don’t
make a scene while she exited the bathroom. She did her best to remain composed as she headed towards the front of the restaurant to get her coat.
“Lady, are you okay?” a random man asked while he reached for her elbow to steady her as she stumbled out of the corridor. His hand felt like a red-hot iron as it branded her skin. She glared at him and clutched her head as a rumbling growl ripped free of her lips—wait, a growl? She didn’t have a moment to reflect on her response before another searing pain shot through her head. The man gasped and released her elbow as he retreated with a look of confusion and fear on his face. She pressed forward, stumbling down the hall to coat check and noticed the exit doors were finally in sight.
Gretchen felt a chill as it swept through her body. Sweat had begun to bead across her forehead and waves of fatigue crashed against her like a tsunami and caused her to slump onto the counter. “Coat for Gretchen, please,” she gasped out. The little man held out a wrinkled palm as he asked for her ticket, which she gave to him with a trembling hand. Once she received her coat, she threw it on quickly and dragged her aching body out the front doors.
Her stomach churned as nausea rolled through her. She stumbled like a drunkard as she wove her way down the crowded sidewalk and searched for a free space on the wall to steady herself. Without even realizing how she got there, she looked around and found herself in the alleyway beside the restaurant.
Gretchen searched the dark area and her skin crawled as if a thousand tiny bugs were crawling beneath the surface. The hairs on her arm stood straight as a pin and her muscles spasmed as the pain from her head speared her limbs. She clutched her head to keep it from splitting in two and sent silent pleas to anyone who was listening, to take the pain away.