August Unknown

by Pamela Fryer

  “Where were you?” her mother asked. “Why didn’t you call?”

  She remembered her mother’s name was Agnes. She glanced at her father. She felt as if she’d dived into cold water as she realized she could not remember her father’s first name.

  “Uh, it’s difficult to explain.”

  “You couldn’t call your own family?” her father said in his trademark grumbling voice. That she remembered.

  The furniture in the house was familiar, but otherwise the place was foreign. She’d never lived here. When their cottage in Astoria didn’t sell, they’d allowed her to rent it and bought this quiet house far from the ocean with the money from selling their boats.

  “When I washed ashore that night, I was disoriented,” she explained. “I had hypothermia. I was hit by a car on a dark road.”

  “That wonderful guy who was taking care of you is the reason you couldn’t remember in the first place.” Colin’s voice held barely-contained anger. He sat next to her in a matching Queen Anne chair, his face scrunched into a grimace.

  “What guy?” Graham asked.

  “A family in Newport put me up.” She shot Colin a look. “All I remember is walking along the ocean highway. My head hurt then. I was already injured. It must have happened when I went overboard. Whatever made me forget, it happened on board.” She’d almost said the boat’s name, but at the last minute it wouldn’t come. This wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped it would be.

  Across the tiny living room, her mother mewled like a kitten. “Your head?”

  “I had eight stitches.” Emily pulled back her bangs. “But my arm was broken when I was hit by the car.”

  Graham swallowed. “There was blood on the cabin roof.”

  Her father glared at Graham. “What blood? You didn’t say anything about any blood. Just how much did you cover up, Ridgley?”

  “It wasn’t Graham’s fault, that much I know for certain,” Emily said quickly. She should have known the accident would have caused bad blood between them.

  Graham gave a terse nod, but his shoulders still looked bunched.

  “I don’t remember what happened that night,” she continued, anticipating his next question. She swept her glance from him, over her father, to Agnes. “I didn’t remember much for a long time. Fleeting memories here and there. The family who took care of me after I got out of the hospital drove me down south to see if I remembered anything, but it didn’t help.”

  Colin leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and drove his fingers through his short-cropped hair.

  She didn’t elaborate further. None of them needed to know about her time with Geoffrey. She suddenly felt protective over it, worried they would all be as possessive and jealous as Colin. Her time with Geoffrey, and the new memories they’d created, were precious.

  “You didn’t remember your own parents?” her father barked. “Hogwash.”

  “Now, now,” her mother soothed.

  “It’s hard to explain how murky everything felt after the accident. I’m really sorry for any pain I caused.”

  “It’s not your fault, Emily,” Graham interjected. “Nobody blames you for what happened that night, or since. We’re just glad you’re back.”

  Her father snorted. “You’re right at that; we knew whose fault it was. You’re damned lucky, Ridgley.” He shook his finger at Graham, and Emily cringed inwardly.

  “Listen, everyone, let’s not lose sight of what’s important.” Colin took her hand. “It’s a good thing I found you. Otherwise we might never have known what happened to you.”

  She shook her head. “No, I would have remembered, sooner or later. The doctors who treated me said I would remember when I was ready.”

  She had to tell them about her fears to encourage them to keep her presence a secret for a while, but did so without confessing the attacks. Until she remembered what happened, no one else could know she was alive.

  Her father wanted to call the police, and Graham agreed with him. But with Colin’s help, she managed to convince them they had no more proof today than they did the day Graham and Colin spoke to them about Sonja. She still had a queasy feeling in her stomach when she thought about the red-haired girl, but Emily was dead-set against implicating Sonja any further if she wasn’t sure.

  For the next hour, she did her best to answer the barrage of questions fired at her. When she yawned, her mother jumped from her seat. “You must be hungry.”

  “Famished,” she said, knowing it was what Agnes needed to hear. She loved cooking for her family.

  “I’ll make you a sandwich. Your favorite?” She hesitated.

  “Turkey and tomato on French bread?” Emily confirmed, and Agnes beamed.

  “Coming right up!”

  “Well,” Graham cleared his throat. “I suppose you two want to be alone.”

  Colin had inched progressively closer. He reached over and took her hand. “I do want to talk to you,” he whispered.

  They walked to the door with Graham. Emily found herself captured in his big, gentle hug.

  “I’m so glad you’re all right,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Part of me died that night, Em.” Tears welled and spilled, but he smiled past them. Love burst in Emily’s heart. Strong and sturdy Graham wasn’t afraid to let anyone see him cry. “Now I feel alive again.”

  He dragged her into another hug.

  “The minute I saw Colin, I remembered you, too,” she whispered just for him. “And how very much you mean to me.”

  He chuckled, pretending the tears weren’t streaking his cheeks, and turned to his truck without another word. He started the engine, looked at her again while grinning like a little boy, and then drove away.

  “He missed you.”

  “I missed him.”

  Colin took her good hand, swinging it gently back and forth as they crunched slowly across the gravel to the edge of light spilling from the house. She could feel his longing, his pain of believing her dead.

  “I’ve been living a nightmare for the past three weeks.” He stopped and turned to her. She felt herself draw nearer. Her Colin. She had been missing something vital inside herself without him, too.

  “Now it’s over and you’re back. It’s the second chance we both deserve. It’s a miracle.”

  She smiled, not sure if she was ready to chalk it up to a miracle.

  “I don’t know why you took this off that night...” He produced a small velvet box from his pocket. “But I’m asking you to put it back on.”

  He flipped open the box. Her ring gleamed in the wan light. She remembered it perfectly: the neat, quarter carat Marquis set prettily in its white-gold band.

  “Colin—”

  “I know you said you needed time, and I’ll give you as much as you need. But just take off that ring, please.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

  His hand dropped a few inches. “Why?”

  “Because...”

  “Do you love him?”

  Her stomach quavered with nervous tension. She drew a shuddering breath. “Yes. I do.”

  He snapped the velvet box shut and turned around, bringing both hands to his head. “I don’t believe this.”

  “Colin, I haven’t decided what I’m going to do.”

  “You mean you haven’t chosen between us.”

  He turned back. She saw him take a deep breath and smother his anger. He stepped close again and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “It’s all right. I know you’ve been through a lot, and it’s confused you. Once you’re back in your old life, you’ll get used to us again.”

  His eyes were as she’d never seen them before. So filled with misery, so lost and hopeless. She understood the pain he’d been feeling the past three weeks, because now she was feeling it, too.

  “I’m so sorry.” She fought against the stinging in her throat. “I didn’t do this on purpose.”

  He took her hand and placed the velvet box in her palm. “I know.�
�� A long moment passed before he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I can’t believe I found you again, only to lose you.”

  “You aren’t losing me.” She stepped forward and kissed him. He gripped her shoulders and dragged her hard against him. In his kiss, she felt his desperation, his tragic need. She wished she could make his pain go away.

  She didn’t want either man to hurt, but she could only choose one.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Agnes flitted about the house in a state of perpetual happiness, eagerly catering to Emily’s every need. She didn’t have the heart to tell her mother she only wanted some quiet time to think.

  Colin had finally been convinced to return home with Graham, even though she believed him when he said he wouldn’t be able to sleep again until she was beside him.

  She missed him and Geoffrey terribly. The sadness had only gotten worse. Now it was a constant sharp stab at the apex of her ribs. In order to make one happy, she had to break the other’s heart. How could she possibly choose between them? Colin had been a part of her life for so long that being without him would be like losing a finger, but Geoffrey was a unique and special man who brought light alive inside her.

  “Son of a bitch.” Her father dropped the invoice he’d just opened onto the kitchen table. “I wonder if we can dig up that coffin and return it.”

  “Bernard!” Agnes shrieked.

  In an instant, her father’s name sparked with familiarity. How could she have forgotten that? And worse, why hadn’t she remembered it herself?

  Her relationship with him had been a turbulent part of her life, with as many bad memories as good. Was she blocking out the less pleasant things from her life? Would she ever let herself remember that night on the boat?

  The unease at the things missing from her memory came with a dark fear she could almost see. She racked her mind for a glimpse of the night she went overboard, but still nothing would come.

  She gazed at the photographs on the mantel, but didn’t have the heart to ask her mother to name the young people in the group shot taken aboard the Maraschino. She didn’t want Agnes to know how much was missing from her memory. If it hadn’t been for the photo of the boat’s christening, she wouldn’t have remembered its name, either.

  The girl with red hair was obviously Sonja, but looking at her now was like looking at a complete stranger. She might as well have been the girl Emily and Geoffrey met on the dock that day.

  Her father sank into a chair and popped open a beer, even though it was only ten thirty in the morning. “Hell, I’m still paying off that casket. I don’t want to tell you how much that set me back.” He shook a finger at her. “But twelve thousand dollars is a lot of money.”

  “Bernard. That isn’t nice. Our baby has been brought back to us, and we should be rejoicing, not bickering.” She wrapped her arms around Emily and kissed her cheek. “How’s your arm, dear? Would you like something for it?”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. Her tension had grown tighter since waking up this morning and finding her father in his usual sour mood, griping at her mother in his usual fashion. It brought a dull pain that throbbed simultaneously in her head and arm.

  Emily went to the guest room and picked up the phone. She dialed her bank and was surprised that she not only remembered the toll-free number, but her account number and her passwords, and the key strokes to move from one account to the other. She also remembered the balance in her savings account precisely.

  She’d been saving the money for almost eight years, since graduating from high school and starting full time at Northwest Expeditions when her father still owned it and the Maraschino. The money had been for her honeymoon with Colin. They were going to sail Graham’s thirty-five-foot gaff cutter, Tigger Too, down the coast and through the Panama Canal, across the northern coast of South America and up the chain of Caribbean islands.

  Emily glanced down at Geoffrey’s ring on her finger. Sudden longing for him made the spike in her gut dig deeper.

  She now remembered the day she’d ridden in the back of the convertible.

  It had been the day after senior prom. Colin had been her date, and they had been voted Prom King and Queen. She’d followed him up on the stage to be crowned, and right there in front of the whole school, Colin had knelt before her, presented his ring, and proposed.

  It had been like a fairytale. They’d stayed up all night, she and Colin, Sonja and Joe, and Jessica and Tim. Though the others’ faces were still hidden by shadows, she remembered the night perfectly. They ended up at the beach at Juniper Point, and each couple went their separate ways. She and Colin had made love on the beach to the sound of crashing waves.

  The sun had risen at their backs as they sat on the beach, painting the offshore clouds with an amazing kaleidoscope of colors. When the others found them again, hunger drove them in to town for breakfast at Trudy’s Cafe, still wearing their prom clothes. The six of them piled into Joe’s Maverick convertible, she in the back seat beside Colin, with her arm on the side of the car, watching the diamond dazzle in the morning sun.

  It had been the most magical time of her life, and Geoffrey had tried to help her find it.

  Dear, sweet Geoffrey. The agony of missing him suddenly turned excruciating.

  She went back to the kitchen and found her mother making her famous homemade chicken soup.

  “I’m going back to Newport,” she announced.

  Her father didn’t look up from the television. His favorite team was losing, and his mood had darkened.

  “So soon?” Agnes pouted, but was clearly hesitant to start with her usual regimen of guilt-associated ultimatums. Only her father seemed more like himself, though even he was treating her as if she were made of glass.

  This isn’t how things used to be, Emily realized dimly. They’re only treating me carefully because they thought I’d died.

  Geoffrey had treated her like a queen from the start.

  The cell phone she’d found stashed in Cherry Pit’s glove compartment the night before was nearly done charging.

  She retrieved her checkbook from her purse and sat down at the kitchen table to write out checks for some of the bills her parents had collected. She didn’t have many, but would need to continue her car insurance and cell phone service.

  Without telling them what she was doing, she wrote out a check for twelve thousand dollars to pay her father back for the casket. It nearly tapped out her savings, but she felt she owed him that much, and at least this way she wouldn’t have to put up with his complaining.

  “I have to,” she told Agnes. She slipped the larger check in the middle of the stack and rose to kiss her mother on the cheek. “It’s important.”

  * * *

  The drive back from Portland had been hellacious. A turned-over big-rig held up traffic for an hour and a half. When Geoffrey finally arrived home, it was to a dark house, all the outside lights turned off. Somebody had messed with the switch and the motion sensor light over the entry was deactivated. He bumped his shin painfully on the potted jade near the front door.

  Inside, a messy kitchen greeted him. Derek ignored him from the living room, bathed in flashing, multicolored lights as he watched music videos from a floor pillow in the middle of the room with the set’s headphones.

  Thank God for small miracles.

  Geoffrey idly flipped through the mail as he loosened his tie. All junk. With Christmas two months away, the catalogs were piling up. His foul mood soured.

  The doorbell rang. Derek didn’t move.

  “Sure, I’ll get it. Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself,” Geoffrey muttered. His mood had steadily plummeted since August—Emily had left.

  He frowned as he saw the red Honda through the window by the door. Who would be visiting at this hour? He pulled the door open.

  “Emily.”

  “Hi.”

  She stepped through the threshold and he moved back to allow her in. “I needed to see you.”

  The firs
t hints of alarm raced through him. Was she coming to return his ring?

  She must have read the dumbfounded look on his face. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said quickly. Her eyes held a tint of worry she tried to hide behind a timid smile.

  She stepped close and placed her hand on his chest. “But I know I want to be with you now.”

  “Of course.” Just having her near had made the day’s tension drain away.

  “Can I stay here tonight?” She looked up, her eyes wide and innocent. “With you?”

  “Sure.” Like dawn rising after a cold night, he warmed from head to toe as he grasped her meaning. “Oh—um, yeah.”

  She leaned in, rose onto her tiptoes, and kissed him.

  Instinctively, his arms went around her back. His heart kicked in his chest, leaping with joy but at the same time, seizing with pain. He would eagerly accept whatever she offered. A touch, a kiss. A minute or a lifetime. Or only a single night.

  When her kiss slipped away and she settled on her heels, he grabbed her hand where it rested on his chest. She still wore his engagement ring on the other.

  “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do,” she said again. “I can’t make you any promises.”

  He didn’t need promises; he needed this moment, right now. If that was all she could give him, it would have to be enough.

  That was a lie. A single night would be more painful than nothing at all, but he would never turn her away.

  He scooped her up and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. Geoffrey laid her down across his bed and stood back to look at her. “Emily, are you sure?”

  She reached for him. “Absolutely.”

  He perched on the edge of the bed, and she sat up and slipped her arm around his shoulders.

  “Kiss me,” she said. “Love me.”

  God, didn’t she know he did? His lips found hers, and he drank in her scent, her taste, and the feel of her against him. How could he ever live without this?

  Don’t think about that. Just concentrate on the here and now.

  She smiled. “You taste sweet.”