“Nikki, would you like to come to the club with me today? I have to go in to make sure everything is running smoothly. It’s where you used to work so you may remember something.”
“I would love to.” I finished drinking my coke. Bradley grabbed my plate and put it in the sink. Anything that could trigger a memory I wanted to try. I had been home almost a month and had very little success.
“Do you want a piggy back ride to your room, so you can get ready?”
My smile told him the answer. Each day I stood on my legs a little longer and some days I even made attempts to move my legs in a walking manor, but they were stupid and most of the time and didn’t obey. I knew that later on in the day they would help bring me to my physical therapy session, but for now I decided the free ride without having to humiliate myself sounded like a great plan.
We got to the club. Brad pushed my wheelchair through the door. The intense sunlight made the dark restaurant almost blinding. I blinked my eyes so I could focus. I looked around. Nothing seemed familiar. I couldn’t place anything.
I looked over to the large fireplace that climbed up to the cathedral ceiling on the left of me. I bet that is nice when it is lit. A balcony over looked the main floor. I wonder what is upstairs? It felt like a huge cabin, with saw dust floors and a bar that extended the length of the place. An adorable little roof hung over the bar, where the glasses dangled from.
As he pushed me across the room to the bar, people ran over to me screaming, “Nicole, we missed you,” invading my space and hugging me. The noises of the voices slammed against my brain as I tried to focus on each one. Faces in my face. All strangers expecting me to remember, expecting me not to look at them like a deer caught in the headlights. It wasn’t helping; just like a bad nightmare, full of distorted images and muffled sounds, nothing made sense.
I darted my eyes behind me to Bradley, pleading to him in silence to save me. The room started spinning as they beat me with all of their remarks. I clutched the arms of the wheelchair.
“Okay, that is enough for today; everyone back to work. Give her some space. I know you are excited to see her but my god, you are like frantic fans or something. Give the girl some air.”
Brad rescued me, bringing me to a section of the bar that had stools. He lifted me up so I could visit with him and he could protect me from all of the questions. Where have you been Nicole? Are you okay Nicole? Did you miss me Nicole? None of the people looked or sounded familiar.
“You okay?” He asked.
I nodded.
“I’ll be right back.” Bradley had to get a couple things done. “When I get back, I’ll get you a drink.”
“That sounds great! Thank you for saving me.”
Brad nodded to Pete and pointed to a clip board as they entered the office.
“Hello Nicole.” I turned. His voice—I had heard it before but I couldn’t place him.
The smell of fish reeked from the clothing that covered his medium frame. His small, circular glasses reminded me of John Lennon from the Beatles, but he had a thick beard covering most of his face. “We’re glad to have you back Nicole.”
I tilted my head, but no memory came. “Thank you,” I managed to respond.
“Just place them behind the bar,” Brad instructed Pete as they returned with a few cases of beer.
“I will see you again,” the fisherman leaned in and whispered. Handing me a yellow carnation, he disappeared into the crowd. I put the flower to my nose taking in its delicate scent and then placed it on the bar, distracted by Bradley.
“So everything seems to be running smoothly, would you like to stay to see the band or head on out.”
“Maybe we could stay and hear them play for a little bit?”
“What do you want to drink?”
“What do I like?”
“It’s a little early to be doing shots. How about a margarita?”
“Shots?”
“It is tiny glasses of alcohol.”
“Let’s do one of those.”
He made me a margarita and set it in front of me and then poured each of us a shot of tequila dressed with lime and salt. We toasted and then downed the shot. My face contorted as the alcohol bit my tongue. I shook my head hoping it would help ease the bite.
“I liked that?”
“You did, but people drink it more for the effect than the taste.” He laughed at my tiny convolutions.
“I think I’ll stick to this, it’s a Margarita?”
“Yeah, I think that is a good idea.”
Chapter 22 Still in the Bar
*Bradley*
As he put the shots of tequila aside, Bradley flashed back to the evening the two of them downed one too many tequilas. Their friendship had grown pretty strong but he wanted so much more. Gorgeous, sweet, everything he had ever dreamed of in a woman, and she was sitting right in front of him, upset because a jerk said something vulgar to her.
Brad had given her a shot to help her forget the jerk, but she didn’t want to take the shot alone. Before long the tequilas began to kick in and he started to muster the courage to do something about his infatuation.
She had left to go to the bathroom, and the ass trapped her and started talking nasty to her. Brad remembered losing his mind. He jumped over the bar and pushed the jerk off of her and grabbed Nikki in his arms. He remembered her shivering and how her lips, like magnets seem to attract his. Why didn’t he kiss her? What happened?
Then he remembered. She was so drunk, he didn’t want to take advantage of her, but she was so hard to resist, especially with a few shots in him. He shook himself out of his memory.
Shots of tequila are not a good idea especially when I’m trying to help Dylan win her back.
“So, how was your date last night?” he began.
“He’s so sweet, and so sexy. He’s perfect. I still can’t believe he was my boyfriend.”
“And why wouldn’t you believe it? You are the sweetest girl I know and look around. You are the prettiest girl in this place. Nikki you are stunning.”
“You are just saying that because you had one of those shot things.”
“I’m saying it because it is true.”
“Bradley.” She paused for a moment.
“Yes, Nicole?”
“Why didn’t we ever go out? You’re kinda amazing too.”
“I never had the nerve to ask you out.”
“But why?”
“I liked you so much. We have such a great friendship. I chickened out because I didn’t want to risk messing it up.”
“I don’t think that would have happened.”
He didn’t know what to say.
“I think I would have liked it if you asked me out.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know, maybe because I like thinking about you. I like remembering things with you. I like being with you.”
“I like being with you too Nikki. I think I would have done something about it if you hadn’t fallen so in love with Dylan.”
“It makes sense I fell in love with him, he is so perfect, is there anything wrong with him?”
“Before he met you, a lot of things, but once you started dating he really changed. He loved you so much, he loves you so much, he would do anything for you.”
“I just don’t understand why I don’t remember anything about him, but I remember you.”
“Nikki, I promise you, you were incredibly in love with him.”
“I …I…I wish I could remember.”
Chapter 23
“Shh. Never say never.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the familiar feeling. They were so rare, I wanted to savor it.
“I love it when I remember,” I sighed.<
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Obsession and Sacrifice
Tiffany Carmouché
*Nicole*
I came out of the room. Dylan sat on the couch picking a song. I leaned against the wall, silent not to be detected, listening as he became one with his guitar. The song intrigued me, the sound captivating, and so familiar. I tilted my head sideways to try and place the music, it gave me a sense of comfort. I closed my eyes and let the sound fill me, being swept away by the melody.
All of a sudden his deep voice joined in with a passion, a sadness, a longing. It commanded me to listen, so masculine yet so gentle – a mixture between huskiness and silk. It transported me somewhere. Utter peace. Unaware, I let out a sigh. And he stopped abruptly when he heard he was not alone.
“Don’t stop, that was beautiful.”
He put down the guitar and stood up, knowing I would need help to walk, wherever I was about to venture.
“That song, that song is so familiar.”
He walked over to me. “You remember it?”
“I do.” I tilted my head and nodded. “I do, but all I can remember is the feeling, the feeling that filled me when I heard it.”
“What feeling, Nicole?”
A smile filled my lips as I gazed into nothingness. “Peace. It filled me with peace.”
A puzzled look covered Dylan’s face and he shook his head slightly. “Nicole, I wrote this for you when you were in the hospital, you were in the coma. I played it while I sat beside you. You were unconscious, connected to all those machines. You remember hearing it?”
I beamed with sincerity. “I do, I do. You wrote that for me? It is so passionate.” He wrote it for me.
Dylan sighed. “I’ve written plenty of songs and performed in front of thousands of people but knowing you heard it when I thought you were near death and it gave you peace… I have to say…I don’t know what to say.” He stood staring at me in disbelief.
“Can you teach me to do that?”
“You want to learn to play the guitar?”
“I do. It sounds so pretty.”
“We will get you playing a song before you know it.”
The corners of my mouth lifted. Dylan held my hands as I took a few steps forward.
“Let’s get you walking first. You did so well yesterday. I’m going to let go and walk to the other side of the room.”
“I can’t—that’s too far.”
He took his fingers and pressed them against my lips, “Shh, don’t say you can’t.”
All of a sudden a sensation filled me. I grasped his fingers. I gently caressed them in my hands and stoked my cheeks with his fingers. I closed my eyes, my nostrils delighted by the scent.
“You’ve done that before.” I felt a warmth come over me. “I remember, you’ve done that before. I remember the smell of your fingers.” I tilted my head to the side as if trying to visualize the scene, looking up at him. Releasing his hands, disappointed in myself, I mumbled, “That is all I remember.”
“That’s okay, you remembered something, that’s a start.” His face revealed the tiny dimples he wouldn’t admit to having. “You can do anything, Nicole. You have no business putting yourself down. You will remember in time. Now let’s get you walking!”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
“Alright! Remember you can do anything.” He let me steady myself on his forearms.
As he flexed his arms to hold me up, I noticed a muscle I had not noticed before. “What is this?”
“That’s my Brachioradialis muscle. It’s used to flex the forearm at the elbow.”
I traced down the side of his forearm “And this?”
“That is my extensor muscles. The extensors are responsible for elbow and wrist rotation.”
“And, and this one?” I asked about the smooth muscle next to the extensor muscle.
“That is my forearm flexor. Flexors are for wrist and grip strength.”
Then I ran my hand along the muscle on the bottom of his forearm. “Okay. And this one?”
“My wrist flexor.”
“You have four muscles in just your forearms? How come I only have one?”
“You have four, too. Your forearm consisted of three small muscle groups namely the extensors, flexors and brachioradialis.” He instructed.
“I’m pretty sure I just have one. Look.” I exhibited my forearms. There was no sign of any separation in muscle. They all just clumped together to form one muscle. I poked around at it. “I feel gyped. I’m telling you there’s only one.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “They’re in there. They are just hiding, I promise.”
“I think they look better on you.” I had never thought a forearm could be so sexy but his were appealing. I blushed a little bit. His provocative strength excited me and his beauty, it intimidated me. I still couldn’t believe he was my boyfriend. Why could I not remember him?
He grinned at the compliment. “Okay I’m going to let you go. You ready?” I nodded. He let go of me in the hallway and he walked all the way across the living room.
“That’s too far.”
“Don’t be lazy, you can do it.”
I inhaled. “Okay, here goes. Can I use the wall?” I joked.
“Ha, ha, ha.” He exaggerated the laugh. “Come on, you can do it.” I mustered up the nerve. Today, for some reason, I found it harder to balance myself, but determined, I tried.
“One, Two, Three, you’re doing great! Come on. Just a few more steps.” His face lit up. “You’re almost here. You can do it!” I reached out to him and he stepped back.
“Hey that’s not fair.” I wobbled the few extra steps and fell into his arms. “You brat!” I play-smacked him.
“Awesome! I think that’s a record! You will be dancing before you know it.”
I looked down at my pathetic legs. “I’ll never dance again.”
He touched my lips to quiet me.“Shh. Never say never.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the familiar feeling. They were so rare, I wanted to savor it.
“I love it when I remember,” I sighed.
“I’ve got an idea.” He helped me secure my stance and went over to his bag, rummaging through it. He moved the couch to the side of the room and connected his Ipod to the stereo.
“What are you doing, Dylan?”
“I want to dance with you.”
“You want to what?”
“Dance with you.”
“I can barely walk. I can barely move my feet and you want me to dance?”
“I just want to try something.” He chose the song and pressed play. I tilted my head to the side, trying to place the music. I had heard it before.
“This song, I recognize this song. I’ve heard it before.”
“That’s a good sign.” Dylan bowed, stretching out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
“Dylan, I can’t.”
He came close to me, touching my lips as he looked into my eyes. “Shhh” That simple gesture was so comforting. “I want you to step on my feet.”
“What? I’m going to squish you!”
“Look at the size of my feet, now look at your miniature feet. You’re not going to squish me, I promise.” I felt stupid but used his forearms to climb on his feet.
“Ouch!” he howled.
“I told you.” He started laughing. Embarrassed, I playfully smacked him again.
“This is stupid. I can’t.”
He pulled my body so close I couldn’t get away. “1,2,3,” he whispered. “1,2,3.” My body pressed against his as he led me through the living room.
“I feel like a little girl.” I started giggling.
“You are a little girl.” He smiled tenderly. I closed my eyes. Th
e music transported me, and for a moment I saw him wearing a suit, holding me. As the music stopped he gently dipped me back, looking into my eyes. A lightning bolt shot through my heart as he looked at me with intensity and for a moment I quivered. Slowly he pulled me up toward him. I gazed at his lips, tracing them with my fingers and looked back into his eyes.
“Have I kissed these before?”A surge of warmth emerged in my cheeks.
“Yes you have.” The question amused him.
“Did I like it?” A timid smile revealed itself as I looked away biting my lip.
He held back his grin, looking at me even more intensely, “I think you did. We can try if you like.” The warmth in my cheeks now spread all the way to my ears. I felt his heartbeat rise as he slowly leaned in.
“So why did you love me? Was I quite adorable?” I changed the subject and he withdrew his advance.
“You still are.”
“I’m hideous. I look like a disfigured monster.”
He caressed my face. “You look like an angel. A monster did this to you.You are still quite adorable.”
His eyes were so passionate, it tickled my tummy.
I again traced his lips in curiosity. Then, out of nowhere, I burst out laughing.
“You have big feet.”
“What?” he questioned.
“Yeah, how could you have danced with me standing on you? You have big feet.” I couldn’t stop laughing. “I remember when I was a little girl, standing on my dad’s feet like that.” I got quiet for a moment. “He had dark hair, he was tall like you. Do you know my dad? I can see him, I remember my dad.” I felt a smile emerge from within. “I can see him dancing with me. Is he still alive?”
“I haven’t met him yet. Brad and I are searching for your family. We haven’t found them yet. You talked about your parents all the time so I’m sure he’s alive.”
“You’ll like my dad. I remember him telling me I squished his feet and I was six years old. I’m full grown and you acted like it was nothing.”
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