Cees turned around in time to see Lilly drop a half-smoked cigarette into her front lawn and step on it.
“Lilly!” Cees said, and Lilly squatted down and picked up
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the butt. “I thought you quit?” Lilly had promised she would quit smoking after Cees’s father’s death.
“I did. I just need something every so often to help with my nerves. I only smoke half, though.”
“What the hell were you thinking bringing that weirdo here?”
“He’s not a weirdo. He’s a doctor.”
“Fine, that weirdo doctor. Hypnosis is not a real science.”
“How do you know? Who died and made you hypnosis expert?”
That caught Cees off guard. The truth was, she didn’t know if hypnosis was an acceptable form of psychotherapy. So she came back with the only line that was sure to get her one up on Lilly. “I’m telling Momma Nguyen.”
“Her idea,” Lilly returned.
Cees went silent before common sense prevailed. “Liar! You just met that guy at the club. You were on your way to his house to do whatever freaky things you do when he let slip that he can hypnotize people. You then decided it would be great fun to come over here and make our lives hell.”
“Since when did it become our lives? I was trying to help you get your life back.”
“I have a life.”
“You had a life. One me and Momma helped you rebuild.
Twice.”
“Are you’re referring to when my father died?”
Lilly’s voice softened. “Cees, I’m not trying to hurt you, but I think you were looking for someone to love when Arie popped into your life.”
“My dad had been gone years before I met Arie.”
“So what’s that got to do with anything? I don’t know what I’ll do when Momma…”
“Momma Nguyen will never die,” Cees said.
Lilly smiled, but to Cees’s surprise the smile was sad and
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retrospective. “I think Auntie Mem is going to need to come live with us. She’s not getting around so well, and Momma is afraid she’s not eating like she should.”
“Lil, why didn’t you tell me?”
Lilly shrugged. “I just found out myself. Doctor said she fainted because her electrolytes are off. She’s not doing so well, Cees, and Momma gets real sad. They only two years apart.”
Lilly’s accent thickened, signaling how distressed she was by the situation, and Cees realized that she had been so tied up in her own worries, she had no idea what was going on with her friend.
Family, she corrected. They are my family, and deserving of just as much of my attention as Arie is.
“You know I’ll be there for Auntie Mem.”
“I know. And you know me and Momma will be there when, you know…” Lilly looked down at Cees’s stomach, her expression thoroughly mystiÞ ed. She had made it very clear to Cees that she didn’t get why anyone would go to so much trouble to become a mother.
Cees laughed, “Yeah, I know, but you keep being so mean and I’m not going to have you around.”
Lilly rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. So does she know what you intend to do?”
Cees looked back at the house. “No, I haven’t had a chance to talk to her about it yet.”
“She’s been living with you for weeks.”
“Yeah, I know, but the subject hasn’t come up.”
“Just promise me you won’t fall in love with her again, okay?”
Cees was saved from having to answer because the front door opened and Chuck stepped out with his hands shoved into the front of his tight leather pants. Anxiety kept Cees from asking the question, but no such compunction afß icted Lilly.
“How’d it go?”
“I can’t really discuss the details.”
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“I didn’t ask for details, I asked how it went,” Lilly said sharply, and Cees had to admit she was about ready to knock poor Chuck’s block off too.
“Did her doctor suggest she see a psychotherapist? She’s a classic example of someone who would beneÞ t from treatment with hypnosis.”
“He said we could explore other forms of treatment when she felt up to it. Arie goes back to see him next week.”
“Give him my card. I’ll need more sessions with her.”
“So you’re saying you got nothing?” Leave it to Lilly to get right to the meat of the matter.
Chuck looked very serious, and for the Þ rst time he ignored Lilly and spoke directly to Cees. “When people have hard to reach memories, and I’ve never seen anyone as conß icted as your Arie, it’s usually for a fairly complicated reason. She doesn’t want to remember. You can’t just expect her mind to release whatever it is that’s causing her pain in one thirty-minute session.”
“See, I told you, Cees. She doesn’t want to remember.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. She’s not doing this on purpose.
Her mind has blocked her memories until it senses she can handle whatever it is she’s avoiding.”
“The doctor at the hospital pretty much said the same thing.
So what can we do about it?”
“Like I said, we can try more sessions, but it hasn’t been that long since she got out of the hospital, has it?”
“A few weeks.”
“I’m afraid that if we pry, she’ll just wall herself off more.”
“Wait, you just said she’s not doing it on purpose. Why would she wall herself off if we pry?” Lilly asked.
Looking exasperated, Chuck turned to Lilly. “We all have different people inside us. Arie doesn’t remember hers, but she’s there. And no, I’m not saying she’s got split personality.” Chuck answered the question he saw in Lilly’s face before she could voice it. “What I’m saying is that part of her wants to remember,
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because she knows that it causes you pain, but there is a reason she shut down in the Þ rst place, and part of her remembers that reason too.”
Cees thought about that. She had been dealing with the same struggle herself.
“Just give her time,” he said, and again, Dr. Parrantt’s words were thrown back in Cees’s face. Again, she felt helpless in the face of the unknown.
Lilly yawned elaborately.
“Make sure you get her home before sunup, or she’ll turn to dust.” Cees’s words lacked bite, as evidenced by Lilly’s second yawn.
Chuck pulled out a business card and handed it to Cees.
“I gave her one already. If she wants to continue the sessions, I think I can help.”
Lilly was surprisingly quiet as they walked toward her car, barely giving Cees a wave before she drove away.
Arie was still sitting in the same chair that she had been in when Cees left, but now her hands were buried in her hair and Cees rushed to her, kneeling in front of her. She sniffed and sat up, and Cees saw the reddened eyes and the tired look on her face.
“He tell you?”
“He just said he would need more time with you.”
“I mean about the fact that I don’t want to remember.”
“Yes, he told me that, but Dr. Parrantt said as much.”
Arie looked at her. “I can’t see how that would be true. I want to remember with everything I am and I can’t. It’s just blank.”
“What about the nightmares you’ve been having?”
Arie stiffened. “What about them?”
“Why do you get so upset when I try to talk to you about them?”
“I don’t, do I?”
“Yes,” Cees said gently, “You do.”
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Arie frowned. “I don’t remember them, so I don’t know why I would.”
“Do you think you’d beneÞ t from having more se
ssions with Chuck? If not him, maybe someone else?” Cees was careful to keep her own emotions in check.
Arie shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe.”
Cees noticed that Arie’s brow was furrowed and the sides of her mouth were drawn down in pain. “Your head hurt?”
“A little.”
“I’ll get your meds.” Cees waited for Arie to respond with a nod or an acknowledgment. When none came, she hurried into the bathroom, grabbed the nearly full prescription bottle, and then to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
When she returned to the living room, Cees found Arie had abandoned the couch for the comfort of her bed. Cees entered the room quietly and set the glass and medication on the nightstand.
Arie lay fully clothed and on her side. Her head was supported by her arm, and her eyes were squeezed shut.
“Arie, I have water and your pain medication. Do you think you should take them before you fall asleep?” With a wince that made Cees sick to see, Arie lifted her head as if it weighed a ton, and accepted the meds. Cees kept a hand on the glass as Arie took a few sips from it. “Should you drink more of the water? The bottle says half a glass.” Without a word, Arie took a few more sips, paled, and lay back down.
Cees put the glass on the nightstand and would have left had Arie’s eyes not opened, freezing her in place.
“Stay. Please,” Arie said in a voice ripe with pain.
“Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Cees whispered, and the moment the words were out of her mouth, her stomach roiled.
She had spoken similar words to her father in his Þ nal days.
Arie looked at Cees for a few moments longer, sighed, and closed her eyes.
Cees quickly shut off all the lights in the house and checked
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the doors. She kicked her shoes off and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch. Once in the bedroom, she listened for the sound of even breathing in the hopes that Arie had fallen asleep.
When none came, she walked around the bed and tried not to jostle as she lay down and pulled the blanket over both of them.
She scooted as close as she could to Arie and was surprised when Arie immediately scooted back, tucking herself into Cees as she often did when she had that right. When Cees didn’t have to feel guilty about the fact that there was nowhere else she would rather be than right there in that bed comforting Arie. Lilly’s warning about not falling in love with Arie was both too late and unnecessary. The truth was, she had never fallen out of love. She had simply learned to live without Arieanna in her life. Once she admitted that fact, it was natural to admit that having Arie in her home, seeing her every day, allowing so many intimate moments had been a mistake. She and Arie could never go back, not while they still had the mystery of what went wrong hanging over their heads.
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Arie clutched the cloth bags to her chest and stared at the droplets of water as they streamed down the cab’s window. Either the driver had left it cracked to give her fresh air or didn’t realize that it was open. Every few seconds a small droplet of cold moisture would hit her forehead or cheek. One ß ew into her eye, and she blinked it away sluggishly. The driver pushed a button and spoke into a radio in quick bursts of a foreign language.
The cab pulled into the circular driveway of the apartments and the driver hopped out. “Do you need a receipt?” he asked grufß y. Arie shook her head. She moved away from the cab, unaware of how much money she had given the driver, nor did she care. Arie turned her face up to the sky. The rain had stopped temporarily, but the clouds had turned the world gray and dingy. She remembered Cees coercing her from the incredibly uncomfortable couch, but she didn’t remember Cees joining her in the bed. She’d left Cees curled into a ball on the right side of the bed. It had taken everything she had not to wake her, but she had left her a note—a note she had started and stopped several times, only to decide that Cees didn’t need to be burdened with the truth. The note she’d left read simply, but it had taken all the energy she had left to write it.
Arie found the key ring in the bottom of her bag and ran the
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fob in front of the door. She pushed the button to call the elevator.
She jumped as a man, her neighbor, slammed his mailbox shut and stood next to her to wait for the elevator. Arie wondered if they knew each other, if she should say hello or if they had been on a Þ rst-name basis.
“It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” he said as the doors slid open.
“Sorry?” Arie thought her voice sounded as if she hadn’t used it in a year.
“The weather? I noticed you got caught out in it.” He looked embarrassed as he pushed the button for her ß oor and his own.
“Sorry. I just meant the weather report said the rain is going to get worse before it gets better.” The man got off without a good-bye, and the elevator continued its slow ascent to her ß oor. Arie had to try two keys before she found the one to her apartment. If not for her driver’s license, she wouldn’t have known the number because the doors all looked the same. She stepped inside and shut the door. She left the bags at the front door and ß ipped a light switch. She walked to the window and watched the cars drive over the steel bridge. The storm clouds had rendered it more night than evening, and drivers had already turned on their lights. Arie felt hot and achy. She turned around and looked at the sparsely furnished apartment. It didn’t feel warm or welcoming like the inside of Cees’s home. It felt like a hotel, as if all unnecessary furniture had been removed.
She remembered a writing desk in the bedroom from when she and Cees had come to get her clothes when she got out of the hospital, and she went right to it. It sat in front of a window with a view of the bridge as well. Arie paused long enough to watch the cars go across that bridge and wondered what it would feel like to have simply worked a hard day and to be looking forward to returning home to a family. She closed her eyes. Don’t even think about it. It won’t do any good. But despair had already started creeping up around her chest, a despair that had been kept at bay
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by Cees’s presence. Arie close her eyes, burning the memory of Cees’s sleeping face into her brain. I won’t forget her again.
Inside the Þ rst desk drawer were two envelopes and some photographs of bridges and scenery around Portland. She took them out of the drawer, sure that they had some signiÞ cance. One of the envelopes caught her eye because the name scrawled on the front was Cees’s. The one to Cees was sealed, but the one with her name on it wasn’t. She pulled out the two sheets of paper and opened them slowly with trembling hands.
Darling, by the time you are old enough to read this I will either be dead or past caring. I want you to know that you were brought into this world because of love. Your mother and I loved each other enough to hope, perhaps foolishly, that love would keep us safe from life’s unfairness. We were wrong. There are things that you must know to keep yourself safe. Things I do not trust my father to tell you, and therefore, I have instructed my attorneys to give you this letter on your eighteenth birthday. I hope that my father has been straightforward with you, as he never was with me.
However, I cannot be sure and I would like you to have the ability to make your decision without his inß uence.
Your mother was never strong. Please don’t blame her if she cannot be there for you. As you know by now, he is not an easy man to defy. He will no doubt use his money to make it difÞ cult for you to make a decision on your own. I want you to make your own life. I want you to love as I have, with no fear of being left destitute.
Between my life insurance and what I received from my mother, compounded by eighteen years of interest, I hope to leave you with enough money to make your own way.
Now, my dearest Arieanna, is the pa
rt that I Þ nd
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most difÞ cult to write. I have suffered for many years with falling down and forgetfulness, with headaches so debilitating I nearly pass out from the pain. My mother had the same issues, but my father led me to believe she had an alcohol problem. I have no doubt that she did drink. However, the doctor has conÞ rmed that she died of the same disease that will eventually relegate me to an invalid, no longer capable of remembering my own name, let alone yours. The idea of it horriÞ es me, but what horriÞ es me more is that I may have passed on the gene for Huntington’s to you. My father knew of the possibility of my carrying the genes from my mother and did not give me the choice of taking a test. In doing so, he allowed me to ignorantly bring you into the world.
As much as I hate that I may have cursed you, I cannot help but be grateful for having had the few years I have had with you.
So, dear Arieanna, you have a choice. You can live life as I have, not knowing if you carry the gene, or you may take the test. I hope I have not unwittingly passed this legacy on to you, but please know this. I have had a short but full life. My only regret is that I will not live long enough to see you become an adult. No matter what, do not let my father stop you from doing anything you desire. Do not let him tell you who you can love.
Live your life, Arieanna.
A sob escaped, relieving some of the pressure in her throat.
The letter had been dated two days after her third birthday. A memory ß ashed before her eyes: voices raised, light spilled from a room where women in white uniforms hovered over a bed doing something to a small Þ gure. She wasn’t allowed in this room, so she stood outside watching, wishing they would move so she could see. Grandfather stood against the far wall, his hair
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and eyebrows stood out all over his head in a way that scared her.
Slowly, the two nurses straightened and looked at Grandfather.
He turned away and saw her standing outside the door. She didn’t understand. She hadn’t come in.
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