She's My Mom

by Rebecca Winters

  They stared at each other for a long moment.

  “I have no idea what really goes on in her mind. She’s an annoying flirt, but I never paid attention.”

  “Did she have influence over me?”

  “No. But she made the occasional jab, which I’m sure you couldn’t have helped internalizing.”

  “Like what, for instance?”

  “The night of that dinner in March, she and her husband were standing at the buffet table with a large crowd of people. You and I walked into the room. She spotted you and said to everyone within hearing distance, ‘There’s Susan, suntanned and beautiful as always, while the rest of us spent the day slaving away at our desks.’

  “Knowing you’d been out working in the yard, I resented her remark. You laughed it off because you never take yourself seriously. We got in line to eat and that was the end of it.”

  Susan slid off the bed. “Maybe I felt diminished and guilty in front of you because I didn’t have a job. Do you think that could be why I decided to get one first and then surprise you?”

  His face darkened. “I suppose it’s possible.”

  “Oh, why can’t I remember?” she cried softly.

  He got to his feet. “None of that matters now.”

  “Of course it does! After years of happiness, something went wrong in our marriage only a few months before the explosion. There could be a connection. But even if there isn’t, I want to know what happened to us.”

  He grasped her upper arms, as his eyes searched hers relentlessly. “Why is that so important to you?”

  Dear God. Had she misread her husband? Did the amnesia make her so undesirable to him that he planned to end their marriage once her would-be killer was caught?

  “For one thing, so we can both have peace of mind.”

  “Have you just remembered something?” He probably had no idea he was shaking her.

  “No. My loss of memory has nothing to do with this…this feeling of alarm.”

  “About what?”

  “About the fact that there was obviously some discord between us when I drove out to the fireworks plant that morning. Don’t you know I’ve felt your pain over this? Brett’s, too?

  “Help me learn the truth, Grady. I don’t care how deeply we have to delve. I’ll do whatever it takes to get answers. Don’t hold anything back. Tell me anything and everything that’s on your mind.”

  “I was right,” he muttered. “You’re the most courageous person I’ve ever known.” His hands fell away from her and she instantly missed his touch.

  “You mentioned my friendship with Ellen Stevens. What’s she like?”

  His hands went to his hips in a purely male stance. “Ellen is a sweetheart.”

  “That’s high praise coming from you.”

  To her surprise, his expression sobered. “It was Jim’s idea to move from our neighborhood. He wanted to build a bigger place for his family. Mike and Brett went into a real depression. It was hard on you and Ellen, too.

  “When their family heard you’d died in the explosion, Ellen fell apart. Since the memorial service she hasn’t been able to do enough for us. In her own way, she’s tried her best to mother Brett, but I’m afraid he’s been difficult to reach. You’re an impossible act to follow.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Did she and I spend a lot of time together?”

  “You probably would’ve spent more if she didn’t work for Jim.”

  “So she has a job, too.”

  Grady nodded. “When she was busy, you were always here for Mike. Even their son Randy used to hang around. He had a crush on you and he liked showing off on his motorcycle.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting all of them. You haven’t talked about Jim Stevens.”

  “He’s a workaholic.”

  “Are you two close?”

  “No, but he’s generous and I like him well enough.”

  “In other words, you don’t seek his friendship.”

  Grady stared at her. “You seem to have developed second sight.”

  She shook her head. “Not at all. With my past life a blank, I don’t know when my comments and questions will go too far or offend, but there’s no other way to proceed. Who’s your closest friend, Grady? The person you lean on?”

  After a brief silence, he said, “You were.”

  Somehow she knew he was going to say that.

  “I’ve learned enough since last night to know I felt the same about you.” She bowed her head. “That’s why we have to probe into every aspect of our lives, no matter how uncomfortable it might be, in order to find out what went wrong.”

  “And the truth will make us free?”

  She caught her breath. “Yes. You can’t fix something when you don’t know where to start.”

  “Amen.”

  She noticed there were shadows under his eyes. “You look as tired as Brett. Maybe tomorrow you could help me decipher what I wrote on the calendar after I went to work.”

  “We’ll do it at breakfast. Get a good sleep.” As he started to walk out of the room, the phone rang. He paused.

  “Our voice mail will catch all the calls this week. We’ll rely on my cell phone to stay in contact with Mrs. Harmon. Good night.”

  “Good night,” she whispered, wishing he’d stayed longer.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GRADY HAD JUST LEFT a message for Boyd Lowry to call him back on his cell phone the next day when he heard a blood-curdling scream from Brett. It was loud enough to wake every neighbor for blocks.

  With his heart almost failing him, Grady bounded from the bed and raced into the hall. He saw Susan’s nightgown-clad figure fly into their son’s room ahead of him.

  By the time Grady made it through the door, she was already rocking Brett in her arms. “Wake up, darling. You’re having a bad dream.”

  “Mom?” he cried hysterically. He was still fighting his way out of the nightmare.

  “Yes, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

  “I s-saw you blow u-up,” he cried between sobs.

  “In my dream…”

  Grady sat down and put his arms around both of them. “Nobody blew up. She’s right here, Brett. We both are.”

  “Don’t leave me,” he begged, throwing his arms around her neck.

  “I’ll stay here all night,” she promised him. “Lie back on your pillow.”

  “Dad?” His son’s body was still racked with heaving sobs.

  “Yes, Brett?”

  “Stay here, t-too.”

  “I wouldn’t go anywhere else.” He moved around to the other side so Brett lay between him and Susan.

  The double bed was a close fit for the three of them, but it didn’t matter. The two people Grady loved most in this world lay within touching distance of him.

  From the light in the hallway, he could see Susan’s face. Her whole attention was focused on their son. She kept stroking his cheek with her finger, crooning to him the way she once did when he was a baby.

  It was the gentling he needed. Soon the sobs subsided, and the mattress no longer shook.

  For the first time since he’d found her at the apartment, she was behaving like the old Susan. He lifted himself on one elbow to get a better look. That was when she started to sing.

  “Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream…”

  His heart gave a jolt.

  It was one of the songs she used to croon to Brett years ago. Her voice had a natural lyrical quality. It took him back….

  He didn’t dare move. He didn’t dare say a word.

  Something earthshaking was happening. A breakthrough. He didn’t know what to do.

  When she’d finished the song, Brett was fast asleep.

  So was she.

  Grady broke out in a cold sweat. He couldn’t afford to make a wrong move now. When she woke up, would they have their wife and mother back with her memory intact? Could it happen that easily?

  A neurosurgeon had answers to such questions, but it meant phoni
ng a total stranger whose answering service would probably suggest he take his wife to the nearest emergency room.

  That wasn’t good enough. Grady needed advice right now. With great stealth he got out of bed and hurried to the master bedroom. Their family doctor was a man he knew he could trust. Gordon Perry would keep everything confidential once Grady explained the situation. He picked up the receiver and called.

  After Dr. Perry had recovered from the astounding news that Susan was alive, he addressed Grady’s concerns.

  “If two different doctors have seen her since the accident and they didn’t suggest hospitalization, I have to assume she escaped critical injury to the brain and her memory is starting to return.

  “It can come back all at once, but in the few cases I’ve dealt with personally, it returns in increments, usually in moments of emotional stress.”

  Brett’s nightmare fit into that category.

  “These experiences might be accompanied by brief bouts of nausea or dizziness. She may or may not talk to you about the experience. If she says nothing, then tell her what happened. This will encourage her in case she was afraid to admit she remembered something.”

  “But she wants to remember! It’s all she can think about.”

  “Of course. Her whole life’s at stake, which is the reason she might hold back. She might be confused, wondering if it was a false memory. Now that she’s home where she’s being forced to deal with her past, the lines are getting blurred. The point is, this is a very good sign, Grady. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

  He let go of the breath he’d been holding. “Thank you, Dr. Perry. I needed to hear that.”

  “Just remember, I’m not a neurosurgeon. I’ll give you the name of an excellent one at the health center. If you have any more questions, phone him and tell him I referred you.”

  After they’d finished their conversation, Grady stole back to Brett’s room. For the rest of the night he lay on his side, waiting feverishly for morning when Susan would open her eyes.

  The next time he was cognizant of anything, he felt movement. It was Brett disturbing the covers. The motion brought Grady out of a deep sleep. Though the shutters were closed, he could tell the sun had been up for hours.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, darling?” Susan sounded wide awake. It should have been the other way around. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her lean toward Brett. “Are you having another bad dream?”

  “No. Can we talk?”

  “Of course.”

  “You sang to me last night.”

  “I hoped it would soothe you.”

  “Mom—it was the same song you used to sing to Lizzy and Karin when we looked after them. Your memory’s coming back!”

  Out of the mouths of babes.

  “Then I w-wasn’t imagining it?” Her voice was incredulous.

  Grady threw off the covers and hurried around to her side of the bed. “Imagining what?”

  She glanced at him, startled. “When I heard Brett scream for me in the night, I seemed to remember hearing him do that before.”

  His heart started to pound. There had been another incident with Brett. “Do you recall anything else?”

  “H-he was lying next to me. Something to do with a bear.”

  “Dad!” Brett cried out excitedly. “Remember that trip?”

  Grady hunkered down beside her. “When Brett was eight, you and I took him camping at Glacier National Park. We saw bears and moose. One of those nights, while we were all cozy in our tent sound asleep, he had a bad dream about a bear eating his toes.

  “I think everything got mixed up in his mind because of his favorite movie in which a bear licks honey off the feet of a woman while she’s sleeping. He screamed for you and probably terrified every animal for miles around.

  “You settled him down, then sang ‘Mr. Sandman’ to him. It’s the way you’d get him to go to sleep when he was a baby.”

  Susan’s eyes seemed to pierce through to his soul. “That means—”

  “It means exactly what Brett said. You’re starting to get flashbacks from the past. Last night after you both fell asleep, I phoned our family doctor and told him what happened. He said most people with amnesia recover their memory in spurts. Do you remember anything else?”

  A pained expression crossed her face. She shook her head.

  “Maybe you would if you saw pictures of our trip. I’ll get the album!” Brett scrambled off the bed and disappeared from the room.

  SUSAN COULDN’T LOOK at her husband. He’d been waiting for her to say that he had been a part of her memory. It killed her to dash his hopes.

  “I’m sorry, Grady.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “You don’t know how badly I want my life back.”

  “Shh.” He reached for the hand closest to him. “Let’s be thankful for this much progress.” Grasping it between both of his, he kissed her fingertips, sending tingles of awareness through her body.

  “Look, Mom. Here we all are!”

  Brett got back on the bed and set an album in front of her, one she hadn’t seen yet. It forced Grady to let go of her.

  She wiped her eyes to see the pictures clearly. The first photo showed the three of them at the gateway to Glacier. Five years had made little difference to Grady’s appearance. If anything, he was more attractive now.

  Though she couldn’t be objective, Susan thought she weighed about the same. It was Brett who’d changed the most. Their cute eight-year-old towhead had grown into a young teen whose hair was going darker with time.

  As she leafed through the pages, he gave her a detailed account of their trip. She sensed that both her husband and son were waiting for her to recognize something in these pictures.

  Brett rested his head on her shoulder. “Don’t you see anything about the trip that looks familiar?”

  “These things can’t be rushed,” his father admonished him.

  Desperate not to disappoint them, she searched from the beginning of the album, where she’d documented other family trips to the Redwoods, Yosemite, Yellowstone. She scrutinized every photo, trying not to panic when nothing triggered a memory.

  It looked as if they went to Oceanside at least three times a year to be with her family. There were other side trips to beaches up and down the Southern California coastline.

  As she studied the captions beneath the pictures, she came across one that caught her attention. The Vincent Farrell Art Gallery, Laguna.

  “I know this painting!”

  Brett’s smile faded just as fast as it had appeared. “That’s because Dad bought it for you last year. It’s hanging in the bedroom.”

  Grady closed the album and put it on the bedside table. He was as disappointed as Brett that the photos hadn’t helped her to remember anything else.

  “I’ll bet you guys are as hungry as I am,” he said with feigned cheer. “As soon as I’m dressed, I’ll go downstairs and make us breakfast.”

  “Wait, Grady…”

  He paused in the doorway. “What is it?”

  Her heart began to pound so hard, she felt suffocated by it. “I haven’t been in our bedroom yet.”

  A stunned expression broke out on his face. “But the clothes you were wearing yesterday—”

  Brett jumped out of bed. “I brought them to her. That means you’ve remembered something else!”

  By this time she was on her feet. Grady waited until she caught up to him, then took her hand in a firm grip that revealed his exhilaration. “Come and look at it.”

  The three of them went down the hall to the master bedroom. When they entered, she gazed around and saw the large, beautiful painting hanging over the dresser.

  It was a scene of a garden room overflowing with flowers. A pair of French doors were open, overlooking the ocean. The stroke work in blues, purples and pinks delighted her.

  “Do you remember being in that gallery, Mom?”

  “No, but the painting reminds me of the Impressionists’ work. That must e
xplain why I was drawn to the calendar in the kitchen.”

  While she was standing there studying it, she suddenly felt unsteady and clung to Grady for support.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m just a little dizzy.”

  He walked her the short distance to the bed. “Lie down until it passes.”

  “I think I’d rather sit.”

  “Mom?” Brett looked at her in fear. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “She’s going to be fine,” Grady declared. “Dr. Perry said it was normal to experience brief episodes of dizziness or nausea with the return of her memory. Why don’t you bring your mother a glass of water?”

  As her son dashed to the bathroom, she stared at her husband. “It’s really happening. Things are coming back to me.”

  “Thank God,” Grady murmured.

  “I’ve been so afraid it would never happen.”

  “Here you go, Mom.”

  Susan took the glass from him and drained it. “I’m feeling much better now.”

  “You mean it?”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you. Thanks, darling.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  It seemed the most natural thing in the world to hug him around the waist. That action brought her face against his pajama top. She eyed the image of the football player before lifting her head.

  “Since when did you become a Denver Broncos fan over the 49ers?”

  “I didn’t!” he cried. “But Mike’s mom brought me these after their family went to an NFL game in Denver. Oh, Mom—you’re starting to remember everything!”

  She hugged him again. Over Brett’s shoulder, she could see Grady standing there, smiling, but when she looked into his eyes she glimpsed a flash of pain. It was only for a second, but her heart almost stopped beating.

  He was waiting for her to remember him. Them.

  Was her mind blocking memories of Grady because of the problem between them before the explosion?

  He was such a wonderful man, she was convinced that whatever went wrong in their marriage had to do with her, not him. If she didn’t learn the answer soon, she was afraid she’d fall apart. The tension was overwhelming her.

  When Grady’s cell phone rang, Brett released her. She watched her husband answer it and turn his back on them.