Remember Me: A Suspenseful Contemporary Romance (Where There's Love Book 1)

by Wolf, Bree

  Sighing, I wished people would just get over it. After all, I was fine.

  Grabbing two menus, I headed to the door where a family of four, parents with twin girls of four or maybe five years, had just entered. A polite smile on my face, I led them to table three in the corner by the vine-clad brick wall. After taking their drink order, I made my way back to the bar counter to fetch two kids’ menus and a few crayons for the twins. As I returned to the table, I accidentally dropped the red crayon when avoiding a smash-up with Sam. He was hurrying back to the kitchen, arms loaded with plates and silverware piled on top. I knelt down to pick it up, however, when I straightened again, the world had once more decided that its rotation wasn’t fast enough and sped up its pace.

  Swaying, I grabbed for anything to hold on to.

  Unfortunately, there was nothing there, and I already saw myself fall on some customer, sitting down for a peaceful lunch, when I suddenly felt an arm grabbing a hold of me.

  “I told you you weren’t fine,” Abby chided. “Lucky for you, I’m not the kind of person to rub it in.” She steered me back toward the bar, and I sat down with a sigh. Once again taking the glass of water she offered me.

  While I was busy sipping and keeping from blacking out, I saw Abby drop off the kids’ menus and crayons at table three. Glancing around, I finally admitted to myself that quite obviously I wasn’t fine after all. The water felt good, but the world was still dancing, and no matter how hard I tried to will it to stop, it just wouldn’t listen.

  Suddenly, the door opened and someone entered, and although that someone was a little out of focus–apparently, my vision was a little impaired–I recognized him immediately.

  “You called him?” I snapped when Abby returned.

  She followed my gaze and saw him. “Well, what can I say? You wouldn’t listen. So I had to resort to more drastic measures.”

  “But you can’t stand him,” I argued as though that could make her reconsider and him disappear.

  “Well, be grateful. Now you know what a good friend I am. Not thinking about myself, only about you.”

  “Gee, thanks. Next time, don’t be so selfless!”

  “Hey girls,” Andy said, walking over. “What’s…?”

  Yeah, and that’s when he finally saw the bump on my forehead. His cheerful face turned grave and he rushed to my side, grabbing my chin and lifting it up to see better. “What the hell did you do?”

  “Bumped my head.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” he said, rolling his eyes at me. “I was more thinking along the lines of how.”

  “I’m not sure.” What was going on with me? Were vague statements all I could come up with these days? Maybe I did have a serious head injury.

  “You don’t know?” His eyes shifted to Abby.

  “Don’t look at me,” she said, lifting her arms as though washing her hands of me. “Your little sister got this done all by herself. She—”

  “I’m not his little sister,” I interrupted. He may be taller than me but I had a good three years on him.

  “She must’ve hit her head or something because I found her lying on the floor in the hallway by the kitchen,” Abby went on, ignoring me completely.

  My brother finally let go of my chin. “When was that?”

  “Yesterday,” I offered.

  He just glanced at me for a second before his eyes shifted back to Abby, his face suddenly looking mad. “And you’re only telling me this now? Why didn’t you call me right away?”

  “Hey, listen buddy!” Abby’s eyes narrowed, a clear sign for anyone smart enough to back down. My little brother, however, did not fit this description. “It’s not my job to keep you informed. If you want to know what’s going on with your sister, show up more often.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, don’t give me that look!” Arms on her hips, Abby glared at him. “You just show up whenever you feel like it, and when you don’t, you don’t. It’s always about you! Honestly, I’m surprised you came at all. You know, this not being about you and all!”

  Mouth in a straight line, Andy just glared back at her. Neither one moved a muscle for what seemed like several minutes, and so I finally decided to interfere. If I had to wait for one of them to give in, I’d probably still be sitting here weeks from now.

  “Listen, guys, I’m fine.” That earned me a disbelieving look from both of them. At least they agreed on something. “Andy, you should get back to work or class or the library or whatever it is students do this time of day, and Abby, we should get back to work, too. We can talk about this later.” And by later, I meant never.

  “You’re not going back to work,” Abby said, not leaving a doubt that she would do everything within her power to make me obey.

  “I agree,” Andy said. “You should lie down.”

  Great! How come they only agreed on things which were to my disadvantage? “Guys, I’m fine. Really.”

  “You sound like you’re on repeat,” Abby pointed out matter-of-factly, giving me a pat on the head like I was some silly child. “You’re going home. And you,” she turned to my brother, “will make sure she gets there. I mean, that is if you want to do something useful for a change.” Turning on her heel, she walked away.

  “Charming as ever,” Andy mumbled, looking after her.

  I saw my chance and took it. “Look, you really don’t have to take me home. I’m fine, really.”

  He slowly turned his head, and once his eyes rested on me, I knew I’d lost. “Jena Irene Gardner!” It sounded like a warning.

  “Don’t call me that! You know I hate that!” I complained. Yes, I hated my middle name, but what I hated even more was being called by my full name. It made me feel like a child, which made it even weirder coming from him since I was actually his big sister.

  “Then don’t give me a reason,” he said, sounding apologetic. “Let’s go.” He grabbed my arm–too many people seemed to do that lately–and steered me towards the door.

  “Wait, let me just get my purse.” Resigning myself to my fate, I slowly walked through the swing door to the employees’ lounge, grabbed my purse and jacket and headed back out, almost bumping into Abby.

  “He’s back!”

  “What? Who’s back?” I asked.

  “The guy.” Her voice bubbled over with excitement.

  “What guy?”

  “Blimey, you really should have your head checked,” she suggested, rolling her eyes at me. “The guy I told you about last night.”

  “Really?” I had to admit I was kind of curious.

  Abby basically dragged me back. “There,” she said pointing and then stopped. The seat at the bar we were now both looking at was empty. “Where’d he go?” Disappointment heavy in her voice, she craned her neck, eyes searching the crowd. “There,” she said a moment later, squeezing my arm a little too tightly and making me yelp. “The guy by the door.”

  Following her gaze, I found quite a few guys by the door. Most of them in company, waiting for a table. However, one stood a little apart and was looking directly at me. The way his eyes looked into mine, so intimately and searching, felt so familiar that for a second I actually thought I knew him.

  His face had friendly features although he didn’t smile. On the contrary, the expression on his face seemed concerned and even somewhat grave. It sent a shiver down my back as though the reason that plagued his mind somehow affected me as well. But before I could find the strength to walk over and find out whether or not I really knew him, he turned and left the restaurant.

  For a second, I just stared at the closed door, dumbfounded.

  “Where’s he going?” Abby asked, her face bearing the same expression as mine. Looking at me, as though I should have the answer, she added, “He asked for you again. By name. And now he just walks away?” Words failed her–not an every-day occurrence.

  “He looks familiar somehow,” I said, still looking at the door. “But…I don’t know. I mean I thi
nk I don’t know him.”

  “You think?”

  “What’s going on?” Andy asked, startling us. “Everything all right? You look like you just saw a ghost.” He said it lightly, but his voice held concern. I guess I was paler than I thought I was.

  “Everything’s fine.”

  “Not that line again,” Abby moaned. “Get out of here. Now. Before I get really testy,” she warned, shooing us to the door.

  “Too late for that,” Andy said, a smile playing on his lips.

  “Funny,” was all Abby said before she headed back into the crowd.

  Ten minutes later, I found myself walking up the stairs to my apartment, only this time I had an arm to support me. Andy insisted on taking me inside after repeatedly telling me how pale I was. Today, I just didn’t have the nerve to tell him that at least part of that paleness was due to the somewhat terrifying drive across town. My dear brother considered traffic regulations to be merely some kind of guidelines, which he only obeyed at will. And like many traffic offenders, who did what they did based on principle and some kind of weird idea that the world should revolve around them, he mostly got away with it, never having gotten a single ticket in his life.

  “Have you talked to Grams lately?” he asked, pouring water into the electric kettle. He reached for tea cups and bags and set them on the table. It hadn’t taken long for Abby’s obsession with tea to rub off on us.

  “Not in the last few days. Why?”

  “Oh, I just had a slightly worried message on my answering machine. You know how she gets when she hasn’t heard from us in a few days.” I nodded. “She actually said and I quote ‘Give me a call when you can but don’t worry, I’m not worried’,” Andy said grinning, and I felt the corners of my mouth curl up, too.

  After our parents’ death, our grandma had taken us in and raised us. Right from the beginning it had been difficult with her. She was worse than any parent, constantly worrying about us. She would call our friends’ houses if we were ten minutes late, and sometimes she even showed up at school to make sure we were all right. We couldn’t really blame her though.

  Our grandpa had been a construction worker, happiest when the buildings rose high into the sky, giving him a view he always said was worth dying for. Only two years into their marriage, he had. After that, Grams had only had her daughter to care for and worry about. I guess our mother’s life growing up hadn’t been that different from ours. In a way, I had always felt close to her because of it. But then our parents had died in a car accident, both in their early thirties, the biggest part of their lives still ahead of them. Great-aunt Milly had told us once that when the police officers stopped in front of Grams’ house, she broke down even before they could say a word. She was rushed to the hospital, and they kept her medicated for a week. Only the prospect of us needing her had given her the strength to pull through.

  We loved her dearly, but she was a handful. We quickly learned to tiptoe around her, shielding her as best as we could from the parts of our lives that would have probably given her a heart attack. Grams was the only one for whom Andy actually stuck to the speed limit.

  “I guess I should call her,” I said, sipping my tea. “I don’t really remember the last time I spoke to her.”

  For a while neither one of us said anything. We just sat there, drinking tea and enjoying the comfortable silence that existed between two people who knew how to be around each other.

  Leaning back against the chair, Andy lifted the cup of steaming tea to his lips, and from one second to the next, something changed.

  The steam clouds disappeared as though the tea was no longer hot, and a pale glow came to his cheeks. His skin seemed darker with a bluish tinge as though he was cold.

  “So, what were you guys talking about?”

  “What?” I asked, shaking my head. Still staring at him, I blinked, and suddenly everything was back to normal. His cheeks shone in a healthy red and the tea’s aroma still wafted upward.

  “You and Abby. At the restaurant. You were staring at the door and looked…I don’t know…kinda out of it somehow.”

  “Eh, there was this guy.” I tried to concentrate. Whatever I had seen before was gone. “Abby said he had shown up before, asking for me. He was standing by the door when she dragged me back from the employees’ lounge.”

  “Who was he?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “He looked kind of familiar, but I can’t place him.”

  “Why didn’t you talk to him?”

  “Well, he just left,” I said, still wondering what all that meant.

  A frown came to Andy’s face. “I thought he wanted to talk to you.”

  “I know,” I snapped. His eyebrows went up at my tone. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little—”

  “Miffy?” A big smile spread across his face.

  “Gee, thanks. What would I do without the loving support of my family?”

  “No idea. I often wonder about that myself.” A mischievous sparkle lit up his eyes, and I couldn’t help but smile at him.

  Andy stayed through the afternoon and was actually about to leave when the door suddenly flew open and walking in, an annoyed look on her face, Abby moaned, “What are you still doing here?”

  “Charming, Abby,” I said. “Really.”

  “You know me. Politeness is my middle name.”

  “I thought it was Francine.”

  Abby fixed me with an icy stare. Of course, I knew that her middle name was off limits. Just like mine.

  Andy chuckled, but when Abby turned the full force of her stare on him, he turned it into a cough and rose from his chair. “That’s my cue to leave. See you later, Sis.”

  As soon as the door closed behind my brother, Abby’s demeanor changed. Her face lit up, and she rushed over to me. “He came back.” Again, her excitement bubbled over.

  “The guy?”

  She nodded, and for a moment, I just looked at her. “What do you want me to say? I have no idea who he is. And frankly, I’m getting tired of these games. Why doesn’t he just come up to me and say what he has to say? I guess after this visit you know as much about him as you did this morning, am I right or am I right?”

  “Maybe he’s shy,” Abby suggested.

  I actually had to laugh. I don’t know why. I mean I didn’t know the guy, but I couldn’t say he struck me as the type who needed to work up the nerve to make new acquaintances. He had seemed self-confident, standing up tall, shoulders back, head high, eyes open, not afraid to meet my own.

  “Can we talk about something else?” I asked, somewhat annoyed with the topic or the guy or both. What did it matter?

  Abby looked disappointed but actually did let it go. “All right, guess who called today?”

  I didn’t know why but without thinking, I blurted out, “Your mother.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “And guess what?”

  “She’s got a new boyfriend,” was my immediate answer.

  “Eh, yeah.” Abby hesitated for a second, eyeing me. “And you know what else?”

  “He’s already moved in.” As soon as it was out, I wondered where it had come from.

  “Okay,” she said, raising her hands. “Am I missing something? Have we had this conversation before?”

  “I don’t know,” was all I could say. That was weird. I didn’t consciously form the answers. They just came out. But I felt as though I had heard them before. It was like a strange sense of deja-vu.

  Seeing how much this question-answer game annoyed Abby, I tried to shut up and let her talk. It actually was a routine for us. Abby’s mom still lived in London, and the only contact they had were sporadic phone calls informing Abby of the latest of a series of childish things her mother did.

  We talked long into the night, and by the time I finally went to bed, I felt so tired that I was sure I wouldn’t hear my alarm clock going off in the morning. As soon as my head hit the pillow and my eyes closed, my mind wandered off. Somewhe
re unknown but familiar. And there it was again. That strange beeping sound as well as the voice, sounding both familiar and alien.

  Chapter Three – Opposites

  The first thing I realized when I woke up was that the world had finally stopped spinning. Everything was in its place, even my sense of balance. As though to prove to myself that everything was back to normal, I jumped out of bed and rushed to get dressed after a look at my alarm clock confirmed that it was already close to noon.

  Abby looked at me reproachfully when I almost bumped into her on arriving at the restaurant. However, my steady walk seemed to convince her that I was recovered and able to work. Not that I enjoyed waitressing so much, but I had to admit that the normality of work felt refreshing after being wrapped in cotton for two days.

  Although I feared that my recovery was only temporary, constantly waiting for the dizziness and the traitorous swaying to return, the day passed quite enjoyably. The restaurant was buzzing, and judging from Leo’s face, he was glad that I was back.

  If anything was different that day, it was that my mind seemed to be working on more than full speed. I didn’t get a single order mixed up. On the contrary, sometimes I almost knew what some of our guests were going to order before they did. It reminded me of the night before when talking to Abby about her mother.

  I didn’t really have time to dwell on it though, constantly running back and forth between tables, rushing into the kitchen and back to the tables again. I felt like I was running a marathon.

  When I was finally able to catch my breath and retreated to the employees’ lounge, basically collapsing onto the couch, my brother stopped by for a surprise visit.

  “What do you want?” I snapped.

  “Heard from Grams yet?”

  “No. Why?” There was something in his voice that made me prick up my ears. “What’d you do?”

  He just grinned at me, an apologetic smile on his face.

  “Oh, you didn’t!” I yelled when the door opened and Sam walked in, phone in hand.

  Handing it to me, he said, “It’s your Grandmother.”