by Jodi Perry
Turning, I reach for her and pull her body against mine. ‘We don’t have any music,’ I say, matching her smile.
‘We don’t need music.’
The side of her face rests against my chest, as she holds me tight.
Memories of our very first dance in the rain come flooding to the surface. Everything was so new to us back then, and in a way, it’s the same now. It’s a new beginning. A chance to relive all the magic we once shared.
THIRTY-FOUR
Jemma
It’s just after seven when I climb out of bed. I’m tired, but excited. Braxton is picking me up at nine and we’re heading to the shops to get what we need for the roast lunch I’m cooking, and then we’ll collect his father on our way back.
It was late when we got home last night. The house was in darkness, so I snuck upstairs and had a warm shower before climbing into bed. As tired as I was, it took me ages to fall asleep. I was still on a high from the day I’d spent with Braxton and Tilly-Girl.
I’m eager to tell my mum about yesterday. She’s coming along in leaps and bounds, and finally starting to deal with the death of her parents. It’s like a part of her died when they did, and she stopped living. I’m sure it’s something she’ll never get over, but at least she’s talking about them again.
I’m smiling as I round the corner to enter the kitchen, but then I stop dead in my tracks. ‘Dad?’ I say.
He’s standing with his back to me, over by the sink, wearing my mum’s pink robe. It’s way too small, and looks ridiculous. I place my hand over my mouth to muffle my giggle.
He turns to face me, and I’m pretty sure the surprised look on his face is mirrored on my own. ‘Pumpkin!’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I … umm … spent the night. I hope you’re okay with that.’ He takes a few steps towards me. ‘I took your mother out for dinner last night, and …’
I hold my hands in the air as I close the distance between us, before wrapping my arms around him; I don’t need details. ‘I’m more than okay with it,’ I say. ‘I’m so happy to see you here.’
‘I’m happy to be here … you have no idea how much. We have you to thank for giving us the push we both needed.’
‘I would have been okay just to have you both talking again, but this …’ I draw back from him and wipe my eyes.
‘I know, pumpkin … I know.’
‘You look ridiculous in that robe, by the way.’
He clears his throat, and I giggle when he tries to adjust the front of it. ‘I wanted to make your mum a cup of coffee. I used to take one into her every morning when I lived here.’
‘Well, maybe you need to bring your own robe with you next time.’
He chuckles as he leans forward, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. ‘That’s a good idea.’
When Braxton picks me up later he can’t believe my father spent the night, but he is just as happy about it as I am. As we leave, my parents are making plans to spend the day together.
My high from yesterday continues, and over the next few hours my cheeks start to ache from smiling so much. My family is well on its way to becoming a real family once more. What I love most is that they actually feel like a family to me now.
Although I still have no memory of my past life with them, in my heart they belong to me, and I belong to them. That empty feeling of not belonging that I felt when I first woke from my coma seems a distant memory now.
‘That smells and looks delicious,’ John says as I place his dinner down in front of him. I roasted pork today. ‘It reminds me of the Sunday roasts my Grace used to make.’
Today’s a good day for him memory wise, which only heightens my good mood. I move around to Braxton next, placing his plate down in front of him. ‘I gave you extra crackling, since I know how much you love it.’
His eyes widen as he looks up at me. ‘You remember that?’
I don’t know. Did he tell me that, or do I remember? I can’t answer that honestly. It wasn’t mentioned in the letters because I know them off by heart. ‘I must,’ I say with a shrug. I don’t have an actual memory of it; it’s just something that felt familiar as I dished up his dinner.
The hopeful smile I see on Braxton’s face as he reaches for my hand tugs at my heart. I’m not sure if my memory will ever return, but I’ll never stop hoping.
John appears to enjoy his day with us, but as the afternoon wears on he becomes tired and confused, and we take him back to the nursing home around seven. We stay for a while, until he’s settled. As I observe Braxton fussing over him, trying to make him as comfortable as possible, I can tell he loved having his father at the house. He’s a great son, and an exceptional human being. It warms my heart to watch them.
My father’s car is in the driveway when Braxton pulls up outside Christine’s. It brings an instant smile to my face. I glance over at Braxton, and I see him smiling as well. ‘Do you want to come in and say hello?’
‘Maybe another time.’
‘Okay.’ I try to mask my disappointment as I remove my seatbelt. I think it’s more that my time with him has come to an end, rather than the fact that he doesn’t want to see my parents.
He removes his own seatbelt, reaching for me. ‘Let them have their time together. This is all new to them … kind of like us. Who knows, he may even move back in.’
‘I hope so.’
He doesn’t mention anything about us moving back in together, but I get the feeling that’s what he’s implying. There’s definitely a part of me that would entertain the idea. But like he just said, this is all new to us, and it’s far too soon to make any big decisions.
He kisses me lightly, then draws back. ‘I’ve been dying to do that all day,’ he admits before kissing me again. Minutes pass, possibly longer, before we finally come up for air, and I immediately feel the loss when he removes his lips from mine.
Reaching forward, he opens the glovebox. ‘I have another letter for you,’ he says, passing it to me, and my smile returns.
‘Thank you.’
I give him one last kiss before exiting the car, and he stays in the driveway until I’m safely inside.
I come to a stop in the doorway of the lounge room and see my parents sitting side by side, with their hands locked together, as they watch television. It’s an image I feel I’ve seen a thousand times, and again I wonder if it’s a real memory.
‘Come sit with us, pumpkin,’ my dad says, tapping the spot beside him.
I think back to what Braxton just said in the car, and although there’s a part of me that wants to join them, I decide against it.
‘I’m tired. I’ve had a big day. I think I’ll just turn in for the night.’
‘Okay. Goodnight, sweetheart,’ my mum says.
‘Night, pumpkin.’
‘Goodnight.’
I jog up the stairs towards my bedroom, busting to read Braxton’s letter.
LETTER SIXTEEN …
Dearest Jemma,
The fourteenth of December 2009. It was a Monday, and six days before my twenty-first birthday. You’d spent the night at my apartment but had left early because you had classes. I didn’t have to be at the university until midday.
I smiled when I walked out into the kitchen and found the note you’d left for me on the fridge. You did this often.
Morning, my handsome boyfriend,
I didn’t wake you, because you looked so peaceful. I lay there and stared at your gorgeous face for the longest time before finally dragging my arse out of bed. Text me when you get to campus. Rach and I are going to cook tonight, so bring Lucas with you.
Love you.
See you later,
Jem xx
I still have that note, along with every other one you left me. I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away.
I had errands to run before my first class, so I got ready to head out. I grabbed my wallet from my bedside table, but my watch wasn’t there. After searching the drawers, under
the bed, and the surrounding area with no luck, I flew into a panic. I turned the entire apartment upside down, but still my watch was nowhere to be found. I tried to retrace my steps from the night before—I was sure I’d left it where I always did—but, nothing.
I woke Lucas, who wasn’t impressed. He’d been out with some girl and hadn’t gotten home until the early hours of the morning.
‘Have you seen my watch?’
‘What?’
‘My watch.’
‘That old-looking thing with the cracked screen?’ he mumbled.
‘Yes. I love that watch … Jem gave it to me. Have you seen it?’
‘Nope,’ he answered, rolling onto his side and covering his face with a pillow.
I grabbed the spare key to your apartment and headed over there—and felt utterly disillusioned when I left empty-handed. This was the first time in five years that my watch hadn’t been strapped to my wrist, and I felt totally lost without it.
As soon as I got to campus, I searched my locker before heading to lost property. I didn’t text you at all that day. I felt sick inside, and didn’t know how to tell you I’d misplaced the watch.
As the days passed, I started to doubt I would ever see it again. A few times you asked me if everything was okay, or why I was acting weird. I’d smile and play it down. I knew I couldn’t keep it from you forever. I’d even considered trying to buy a replacement, but I wanted the one you gave me, not an imitation.
The night before my birthday, Rachel went out with some friends, so you cooked a romantic dinner for the two of us at your apartment. It was also the night I had planned to come clean. I rubbed my hand over my wrist as I tried to think of the best way to say it, but there was no good way.
‘Jem,’ I said, reaching for your hand across the table. ‘I have a confession to make.’
‘A confession?’ You screwed up your forehead as you spoke.
‘I … I umm …’
‘Jesus, Braxton, you’re scaring me. What have you done?’
There was no easy way to say it. ‘I lost my watch … the one you gave me.’
‘Oh thank god,’ you said, breathing a sigh of relief. ‘I thought you were going to say something far worse than that.’
‘I’m not sure it could get any worse. I love that watch.’
You giggled as you stood, which only confused me. There was nothing humorous about this. You’d worked hard to save the money to buy me that watch.
My eyes followed your every move as you disappeared into your room and then emerged a few moments later with a small wrapped box in your hand.
‘This is only a small part of your present. You have to wait until tomorrow for the rest.’
I was perplexed. I’d lost the watch, and you were giving me a present?
Reality dawned as soon as I opened the box. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was filled with mixed emotions: relief, confusion and anger.
‘That’s my watch!’ The screen had been replaced, and it sported a shiny new band.
‘It is,’ you replied, your face lighting up. ‘Surprise.’
‘You had it all along?’
‘Yeah, I wanted to surprise you.’
All I could think of was the stress I’d lived through that past week. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t notice it was missing? I’ve worn it every day since you gave it to me.’
‘Are you mad at me?’ You pouted your bottom lip.
‘Yes … no.’ I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. ‘I understand you were doing a nice thing, but I love this watch and everything it represents. This week was a total nightmare. I was devastated thinking I’d lost it.’
‘I’m sorry.’ You closed the distance between us, and enveloped me in your arms. ‘Do you forgive me?’
‘Of course.’ It was impossible to stay mad at you. ‘I’m just glad to have it back.’
‘They did a great job with it.’
‘They did.’ It looked just as shiny and new as the first day you’d given it to me.
‘I had a message engraved on the back.’
A smile tugged at my lips when I turned it over and read the inscription on the back.
‘I love it … thank you.’ I already treasured this watch, but it meant even more now.
‘Happy birthday eve, Brax.’
I couldn’t stop smiling as I strapped it to my wrist. I’d felt like a piece of me had been missing, but now I was whole again.
‘Don’t forget tomorrow night you’re all mine, I’m taking you out for your birthday.’ I couldn’t think of a more perfect way to spend my twenty-first birthday, although I would have liked to be able to see my dad too. I’d spoken to him on the phone earlier that day, but it had been a few weeks since I’d seen him. I was missing him. ‘You can pick me up at six.’
‘It’s a date.’
I arrived at your apartment at 5.56pm. I know that because I looked down at my shiny watch before knocking. I’d even slept in it the previous night, I was so glad to have it back.
I had no idea where you were taking me for dinner, but I dressed in my best jeans and a nice button-down shirt you’d bought me. Although you were the one taking me out, I still brought you flowers—your favourite kind, the yellow roses and purple irises.
‘Come in, it’s open,’ you called out from inside.
I opened the door, and walked into complete darkness.
‘Surprise!’
The sudden loud noise made me jump, then the lights came on, practically blinding me. The first person I saw was my dad. He was wearing a ridiculous smile on his face, and it matched the ridiculous party hat on his head. The entire room was decorated with streamers and balloons. There was also a pile of wrapped presents sitting on the coffee table.
I felt emotion well up as my eyes moved around the room. All the important people in my life were there: you, my dad, Lucas, Rachel, your parents, even Ma and Pa.
‘Happy Birthday, Brax,’ you said, coming to stand with me. ‘I hope you’re okay with this. I wanted to do something special for your twenty-first.’
‘It’s more than okay,’ I replied, bending to kiss your lips. I’d never been thrown a birthday party before, and it meant the world to me.
What we had is far too beautiful to be forgotten.
Yours always,
Braxton
There’s a huge smile on my face as I refold the letter. I can’t believe it took twenty-one years for someone to throw him a birthday party. I’m so glad I did that for him.
I pull the little watch charm out of the envelope, and I find myself wishing he had included the inscription I had engraved in the letter.
I take my memory bracelet and run my fingers over the charms. It is almost full, which saddens me a little. The letters are going to have to stop sooner or later, when Braxton runs out of things to say. I will miss them when that happens—they have been my lifeline.
THIRTY-FIVE
Braxton
I see her staring at my watch as we eat breakfast at our home. ‘Is that the watch you mentioned in the letter?’ she finally asks.
‘The one and only,’ I answer, beaming. I love this watch. ‘Not a single day has passed that I haven’t worn it … except that week you stole it.’
‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ she says with a cheeky smile, and I know she’s not sorry at all. Then she falls silent, shifting slightly in her seat. ‘What did I have engraved on the back? You never mentioned that part in the letter and I’m dying to know.’
Her question has me grinning. I was hoping she’d ask. ‘You want to see it?’
‘Please.’ The hopeful look on her face tugs at my heartstrings. As much as I hate what has become of us, reliving our past with her, and experiencing her reactions as she rediscovers everything for the first time, is priceless.
I unbuckle the watch from my wrist and pass it to her. She groans when she reads the inscription. You are the tic in my toc.
‘Oh god, that’s so cheesy. Did I really write that crap?’<
br />
I have to stifle my laugh when her face turns bright red. ‘I think it’s sweet.’
‘You do not. You’re just being polite. I’m surprised you even married me … I’m so lame.’
‘You’re far from lame. Every morning when I read it, it brings a smile to my face.’ I chuckle as she passes the watch back to me, and I strap it to my wrist.
‘Probably a humorous smile.’
‘Not at all … I love being the tic in your toc.’
‘Somebody kill me now,’ she says, covering her face with her hands.
‘Hey.’ Reaching out, I remove her hands from her pretty face. ‘If it’s any consolation, you’re the tic in my toc too. Always have been, and always will be.’
I see the beginnings of a smile as she picks up her spoon.
‘So, my father ended up staying over again last night.’ I’m pretty sure she’s telling me this to change the subject. ‘There’s no talk of him moving in yet, but I think it’s on the cards.’
‘I hope so.’
‘My mum has been practically floating around the house.’ She giggles as she pops a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. But what stands out for me is that she said mum, not Christine. ‘I’ve never seen her so happy.’
‘Love will do that to you.’
It’s around midday when I fold the piece of paper and place it in the envelope. I’m still in two minds about what I’ve included in the latter part of this letter, but in my heart I think it’s something Jem would want to know. It was a terrible time for us both, but also a poignant moment in our relationship. I only hope that this memory doesn’t devastate her like it did in the past.
I add the small jewellery box and the tiny ring charm, and then carefully slide the image in alongside the letter.
LETTER SEVENTEEN …
Dearest Jemma,
The sixth of July 2012. It was a Friday, and we’d both come home for the weekend. I kissed you goodbye in the driveway, as you headed inside to your parents, and I went to my place to see my dad.
‘I’m home, Pop!’ I called out, walking through the door.