What She Forgot

by Tammy Falkner

  “I’m the thorn in his side. The tear in his beer. The pain in his ass. Also known as the office assistant.”

  “I heard you’re crazier than a whole bunch of bedbugs.”

  Shelly grinned, blushing only slightly. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She looked over Shelly’s shoulder at me. “Why is she here?”

  “Well, it’s a long story,” I began, reaching to rub the back of my neck again.

  “Then you had better get started.”

  Shelly and I explained the situation, and I watched the pain flash across MeeMaw’s face at the mention of Marley, and then anger when we showed her the video of the fight at the gym, and told her about Mason and Lynn’s baby and the break-in.

  “Well, it’s a good thing you brought her home,” MeeMaw said at the end of it. She reached over and turned her tiny TV up—loud—and I knew that conversation was at an end.

  “Did you cook tonight, MeeMaw?” I asked over the noise of the TV, hoping against hope that she did.

  “Don’t I always?” she replied, motioning toward the refrigerator. “You can walk Channing while I heat it up.” She looked Shelly up and down. “I made enough for a crowd.” She always did.

  “Does she have a leash?” Shelly asked.

  “MeeMaw or the dog?” I replied.

  Shelly glared at me.

  I retrieved the leash from its hook in the mudroom and Shelly hooked it to Channing’s collar, since Channing tried to bite my finger off when I did it. Then we went out the front door.

  “So, your MeeMaw is pretty amazing.”

  I smiled, not even meaning to. “I know.”

  “You love her a lot.”

  “I do.”

  Shelly jumped when I grabbed her left hand in my right hand and laced our fingers together. She immediately tried to pull away, but I tightened my grip.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice quavering slightly.

  “I’m boyfriend-ing,” I whispered back at her. “Roll with it.”

  “I don’t understand.” Her fingers still wiggled in my grasp.

  “We need Megan to think we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  She finally stopped wiggling.

  “And this is how I boyfriend.”

  The scowl on her face was almost comical. “I don’t like it,” she replied.

  I almost replied and said I hated it just as much. But I’d be lying if I did that.

  She looked up at me. “Is this really what boyfriends do?” She lifted our joined hands between us. “This?” She glared at our interlocked fingers, confusion marring her brow.

  “Yep.” I grinned at her discomfort. “This is what boyfriends do. They hold hands with their girlfriends.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it feels good?” I wasn’t completely sure myself.

  “It doesn’t feel good.” She shook her head, the vee between her brows growing even deeper.

  “How does it feel?”

  “Weird.” She shook with a tiny shiver.

  “Think you can live with it?” I asked. I squeezed her hand in mine, and I felt her relax ever so slightly.

  She sniffed, lifting her nose into the air. “If I must.”

  Chapter 18

  Shelly

  Clark’s MeeMaw was an amazing cook. “Why aren’t you fat?” I asked as I forked up another mouthful. I put it in my mouth and the flavors exploded across my tongue.

  “He’s too vain to get fat,” his grandmother said with a loud snort.

  He patted his flat stomach. “I’m not vain. I just feel better when I’m in shape.” He nudged me with his elbow. “Shelly works out too. A lot.” His eyes did a slow trek down my side and my breath hitched. I tried to bite it back, but I could tell that MeeMaw noticed it when her eyebrows shot up. She shook her head and looked away.

  Clark’s MeeMaw was a study in contradictions. She was rail-thin with silver hair, or at least what I could see of it. She had it up in curlers. She wore a house coat with snaps up the front. She was thin but solid, as grandmothers typically were. My own grandmother, the woman who’d raised me, was built like a tank. She was tall and thin, but she could move mountains. And what she couldn’t move, she would just blow up. Or poison. Or something. She liked to bake but she didn’t cook, not like this. This food was amazing, and I told her so.

  “I used to own a restaurant,” Clark’s grandmother said, her voice firm. “I learned a few things.”

  I hummed around another mouthful.

  “I could teach you how to make a few things.”

  “Mrs…” I looked to Clark for clarification on the last name.

  She covered my hand with hers. “Everybody calls me MeeMaw, dear,” she said kindly. “You can too.”

  “I doubt Shelly wants to learn to cook, MeeMaw,” Clark said with a snort.

  That got my hackles up. “As a matter of fact,” I said, “I love to cook.”

  “Well, then, we’ll plan a lesson as soon as you can shake loose of my grandson.” She shot him a speaking glance.

  “Go away, Clark,” I said. “I’m going to learn to cook.” I shooed him with my hands.

  “You haven’t slept yet, Shelly,” he reminded me. “It’s tomorrow, remember?”

  “Who needs sleep when there’s food to be had?” I said. But then a yawn caught me by surprise. I covered my open mouth.

  “You do,” he said. “Do you want to shower? You can use my bathroom first, if you want.”

  “A shower would be nice,” I said. I looked at MeeMaw. “Can I take a rain check on the cooking lesson?” I yawned again. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Go shower and get some rest, dear,” she said. “You look like you’re dead on your feet.”

  “I’ll go set out some towels for you,” Clark said, and then he disappeared down the hallway.

  I got up to rinse the plates Clark and I had just used and loaded them into the dishwasher.

  “He’s not going to know what to do with you.” She said the words clearly and succinctly, but I still almost missed them. I stopped and turned to look at her, drying my hands with a nearby dishtowel.

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “I said he’s not going to know what to do with you.” She said each word again slowly and clearly.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “He’s been talking about you ever since the first night you showed up at his office.” She chortled. “You pulled a gun on him. That was when I knew you might give him a run for his money.”

  “I did pull a gun on him. Because he surprised me. But I still don’t know what you mean.” I folded the dishtowel I’d used and left it on the counter. “He told you about all that?” I wanted to ask what else he’d had to say, but I was afraid she might tell me. “I really like working for him.”

  “You’re pretty and smart.”

  “Thank you.” I’d heard those words my whole life. I’d been at genius-level IQ in middle school. My teachers never knew what to do with me either. And I’d never lacked for men who wanted to fuck me.

  “But I think you’re also a little lost.”

  Those words… They sank deep into my soul and sat there, heavy like a boulder. “Probably,” I replied, knowing how flat my voice sounded. But I didn’t really care.

  “My boy, he likes to try to fix things that are broken,” she said, and she reached over and turned off the little TV. “But he ends up breaking himself.”

  I sat back down next to her and she patted my hand.

  “I have no plans to harm him.” I held up both hands like I was surrendering to the cops.

  “Neither did Marley.” She heaved in a breath. “Did you see his face?”

  “I’ve seen his face many times.” I kind of liked his face.

  “The scar, dear. Did you see the scar?”

  Of course I had seen the scar. It slashed from his temple down beneath his eye and stopped next to his nose. “I’ve seen it.”

  “Did yo
u ask him how he got it?”

  “I’m sure he would tell me if he wanted me to know.”

  “He went to bed with Marley, and he woke up to find Megan standing over him with a knife. She slashed his face before he could move.”

  It felt sort of wrong having MeeMaw tell me this story. Clark should have been the one to tell me.

  “And he still tried to make it work. Until he couldn’t make it work anymore.”

  I said nothing.

  “He had her put in a facility for people with mental illnesses, a medical institution, and it nearly killed him.”

  My sister had lived in a facility during her teen years. That was how she met Mason.

  “When one personality is hell-bent on killing people, it’s the only thing you can do. It broke his heart.” She stared at me so long that it became uncomfortable.

  “You know about my sister.” I didn’t ask it as a question, because I felt like she probably already did.

  “I do.” She sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly. “But your sister is the exception to the rule. She’s not like Megan. Or Marley for that matter.”

  “There were only two of them?”

  “As far as he knows, yes.”

  “And Marley has been gone for a long time.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you don’t want me to be here.”

  This was the most candid conversation I’d ever had with a person I’d only just met. But I appreciated her honesty.

  “I think you need to be here. Because you’re probably the only one who can find Marley.”

  “And Megan.”

  “And Megan,” she said with a nod. “But don’t make him fall in love with you. Please.”

  I snorted. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  She said nothing. She just stared at me.

  No one had ever loved me. Except for Lynn, and she didn’t even like me most of the time. She’d never understood the way my mind worked. “I have been told I’m not the lovable sort. So I think he’s safe.”

  “Shelly!” I heard him call from down the hall. “You can shower if you want!”

  “Be right there!” I called back. “Thank you for breakfast,” I said. “It was wonderful.”

  “You heed my words, you hear?” She challenged me with the fierceness of her gaze.

  “I’ll certainly try.”

  But Clark was safe. I wasn’t the lovable sort, and if he didn’t know that already, he would soon.

  I grabbed my bag from the entryway and went to Clark’s room, where I stopped and stared. He had a manly room, with dark furniture made from heavy wood. It was neat and tidy, and he had a huge bed against one wall.

  “The guest room is down the hall, but there’s no bathroom attached to that one, so just let me know when you’re finished.” He looked around like he was uncomfortable having me in his space. “MeeMaw uses the main bathroom, and her junk is spread all over the counters, or I would send you there.”

  “Thank you,” I said quietly, my bag still over my shoulder. I avoided looking at him, because the conversation with MeeMaw had left me feeling unsettled, and I didn’t like feeling like this. Not at all.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  He took a step toward me. “Did she say something to upset you?”

  “No, she’s amazing. You’re lucky to have her.” I started toward the bathroom. “I’m going to get that shower so I can get out of your hair.” I faked a yawn. “I’m really tired.”

  “Shelly—”

  “I’m fine, Clark,” I said, and I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door with a solid click behind me. Then I sagged against the wall. Because I knew that I would never have the love of a man like Clark. And that was okay with me, because I didn’t want that anyway. Love made you weak. And that was one thing I would never be.

  Chapter 19

  Clark

  “What did you say to her?” I asked as I walked back into the kitchen. I was rather proud that I didn’t even raise my voice. If it was anybody but my MeeMaw, I would have been loud about it. But MeeMaw…well, she’d slap me into the middle of next week if I spoke to her the way I thought about talking to her sometimes.

  “We just had a little chat.” She waved a hand breezily in the air. “She’s a nice girl.”

  No, she wasn’t. She was a shark. “MeeMaw…” I said slowly, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

  “Willy.” She mocked my tone and shot me a glare.

  Shelly had refused to even look at me as she went into the bathroom. “What did you do?”

  “We just talked.” She stared at me. “Get that scowl off your face, Willy,” she warned. “I’m already tired of seeing you all puckered up like that.” She pointed her finger at me, and I knew I would soon be in trouble, if I wasn’t already.

  “Shelly’s special, MeeMaw.” I wanted to explain. Shelly didn’t think like the average woman. She couldn’t read people. She didn’t understand the meaning behind their words. “She has trouble reading between the lines. You have to be very direct with her. If you’re not, she might get confused.”

  “She wasn’t confused. She understood every word I said.”

  “You think she wasn’t confused. You don’t know that.”

  “I was very clear.”

  “Why did she refuse to look at me, then?” I finally asked.

  “You’re going to fall in love with her, Willy, and you’re going to get your heart broken.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You are going to fall in love with that woman. And she’s not going to be able to love you back, not the way you need.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t say that to her.”

  “I didn’t say that to her.” She waited a beat. “But I did say something very similar.” She jabbed that long, pointy finger at me again. “And you know I’m right. You always fall for the broken ones. You think you can fix them.”

  “She’s not broken!” I cried. “Truth be told, I think she’s pretty damn amazing. She doesn’t need fixing.” That was the biggest truth I’d ever told. But once it hit my brain, I knew it was true. Shelly might have done some shady shit in the past, but I had a feeling that there was a reason for every shady thing she’d ever done.

  Beyond me, a shadow moved in the hallway, and I knew without a doubt that Shelly had been standing there listening.

  “Don’t fall in love with this one, Willy. She will break your heart.” This time, there was no finger jab. No fierce glare. There was just a soft resignation on her face.

  “I won’t fall in love with her. She’s only here temporarily.” Only long enough to find Megan, and to get Megan back to where she needed to be—where she couldn’t harm anyone. “I need her to find Megan.”

  “If Megan thinks you’re sleeping with that woman, she’ll let her presence be known. Soon.”

  “Maybe you should go and visit Aunt Edna,” I tossed out. “Where you’ll be safe.”

  She chuckled. “And miss the shit show? Not a chance in hell.” She stood up, walked over and pulled my arm until I bent down so she could kiss my cheek. “Go get some sleep. I’m going to play cards with my friends.”

  “Strip poker again?” I teased.

  “I’m too old for strip poker. My left tit would end up under the sole of my shoe.”

  I choked on my own spit. “MeeMaw!” I said, my face flooding with heat.

  “It’s true. One side always sags worse than the other.” She patted my arm and laughed out loud when I grimaced. I didn’t like thinking about MeeMaw’s tits. I didn’t even want to know MeeMaw had tits.

  “Call me if you need me,” I warned. “I’m going to sleep for a couple of hours, and then Shelly and I will probably go to the office, and to dinner, so we can be seen by those who might want to see us.”

  “It’s sad that Megan went after Shelly’s family.” She shook her head.

  “Shelly doesn’t love very
many people,” I said.

  MeeMaw stared at me. “I don’t think that’s her problem.”

  “Enlighten me, MeeMaw,” I prompted. She was going to do it anyway.

  “I think her problem might just be that no one has ever loved her enough.”

  She patted my chest as those words sank deep inside me, twisting my heart in a jumbled mess.

  “Get some sleep,” she said. Then she disappeared down the hall.

  Shelly had closed the door to my room when she’d left it to go to her own, so I opened the door and flipped on the light. Then I stopped short, because Shelly was in my bed. On my side of the bed. With her head on my pillow. And she was sound asleep.

  I stared at her for more than a few seconds. She was sleeping soundly with her hand resting under her cheek. I turned the light back off, took a quick shower, changed into boxers and a t-shirt, and I tiptoed around to the side of the bed that Shelly wasn’t occupying. I slid between the covers, taking care not to jostle her. She didn’t even take up much space. She seemed tiny and vulnerable on her side of the bed. Shelly usually seemed larger than life, and far from vulnerable. But right now, for the very first time, I felt like there could be more to Shelly than I’d ever realized.

  MeeMaw had said that no one had ever loved her enough. But had anyone ever really loved her at all? Even Lynn’s love had been conditional until recently. And that…well, that seemed like a tragedy. Everyone deserved to be loved. Even Shelly.

  Particularly Shelly.

  Chapter 20

  Shelly

  I’d never slept in a bed with a man before, and I wasn’t sure if I was highly opposed to the idea of doing it again, or if I was looking forward to it. I’d woken up before Clark did, so I took the time to study him in his sleep. He slept with one arm over his head, his mouth hanging open as harsh breaths escaped his mouth. Every now and then, a noisy rattle rose from his nose. Then he adjusted and the sound stopped.

  I knew when he woke up, and I knew he was pretending to still be asleep. “Do you always stare at sleeping men like a weirdo?” he asked, his voice roughened with sleep.