The Memory of You

Home > Fiction > The Memory of You > Page 5
The Memory of You Page 5

by Laurie Kellogg


  Obviously, she had no idea it was nearly old enough to be classified as an antique or how much a cycle enthusiast would pay for it.

  Abby glanced at the kids. “Okay, whose turn is it to say grace?”

  The boys argued for several moments until Matt held up his hand. “Hey, fellows, I’m hungry. How about I do it?” He bowed his head, said a short blessing, and then looked up at Abby. “I need a set of wheels, and a bike is about all I can afford.”

  He should feel lousy not disclosing the motorcycle’s potential value, but what the hell, it was his, right? He felt ridiculous buying something he already owned regardless of the price, but he had no choice if he was going to continue the charade. “So how much do you want for it?”

  “I don’t know. It hasn’t been run in over six years.”

  Taking a bite of the meat loaf drenched in mushroom gravy, he rolled his eyes in ecstasy. “Man, this is good.” He sipped his ice-cold milk. “If your husband knew anything about mechanics, he would’ve known what to do to protect the engine. It looks like he took good care of it.”

  “I’m sure he did. Matt always did his own tune-ups and oil changes. He carried a double major in electrical and mechanical engineering and took a bundle of science courses, so he was a stickler about maintaining equipment.”

  Lifting his eyebrows, he swallowed a mouthful of potatoes. “Really? Small world. I majored in engineering, too. Where’d he go to school?”

  “Princeton.”

  He blew out a long, low whistle. “He must’ve had some pretty good grades to get in there.”

  “He did. But not quite good enough to go without accepting an ROTC scholarship. Once he was there, though, Matt buckled down and graduated summa cum laude. He was interested in designing medical equipment. He believed that sector of technology would skyrocket in the next thirty years.”

  From the advances he’d seen in diagnostic equipment at the VA hospital, it looked as if his prediction was on target.

  “In fact, before Matt even finished college, he had a patent on some new component for a cardiopulmonary bypass machine. Before going overseas, he sold the rights for enough to buy me the GTO in driveway.”

  Hot spit. Those brains hadn’t kept his life from getting totally fucked up. She talked as if he were a superhuman combo of Thomas Edison and The Lone Ranger.

  “So what do you say? Will you let me buy it?”

  “Umm....I can’t explain why, but it would bother me to sell it. I know he’s dead, but....” She shrugged. “I’d feel better just giving it to you.”

  That would be great, except he didn’t want Abby to think he was some low-life who would mooch off a widow. It was bad enough he was keeping her in the dark about the Harley’s worth.

  “No. I’d feel like a sleaze, taking it for nothing. How about I do some work for you in exchange. The house could use some paint.”

  She wiped a milk mustache off Tommy’s lip with her napkin. “My brother Peter was planning to paint while he’s on leave. But I’d be just as happy if he doesn’t have to. He recently moved in with his girlfriend, and he’s already given up one evening to sit with the boys.”

  Matt scooped a forkful of peas into his mouth and grimaced at the flavor and texture. He should’ve trusted his instincts and gone light on them.

  As he shoveled them in to rid his plate of the vegetable, Abby pointed at his dish. “I see you really like peas. My husband despised them.” His stomach sunk when she handed him the bowl. “Here, why don’t you finish them off?”

  Talk about killing a guy with kindness.

  Rather than give Abby one more coincidence to question, Matt dumped the unappealing contents onto his plate. “So how about it? I’ll paint the house in exchange for the Harley. ”

  “Mmm....I don’t know. That’s a lot to do for just a broken-down motorcycle.”

  “Throw in three squares a day, and it’ll be more than a fair deal. I need to eat a lot to put some weight back on.” And spending mealtimes with Abby and the kids would give him a chance to get to know them.

  “Okay. But it still doesn’t seem like enough.”

  “Don’t worry, it will be.” He shuddered, choking down another mouthful of the peas. “To do the job right, a lot of scraping, caulking, and priming needs to be done. So you’ll be feeding me for well over a week.” He placed another helping of meatloaf on his plate. “And I’ll also have to take time off to look for a permanent job.”

  As he watched the tines of her fork slide between her luscious lips, he shifted uneasily in his seat. What he wouldn’t give to be one of her utensils for just ten minutes.

  Abby frowned at Tommy’s plate and huffed. “Matthew Thomas, would you pleeease eat some of those peas.”

  “I can’t.” The child wrinkled his nose. “I hate ‘em.”

  Apparently, their son had inherited Matt’s distaste for the vegetable. Matt arched one eyebrow a fraction. “If you’re hungry enough, Buddy, you can eat anything.”

  Speculation shadowed Abby’s green eyes. “You sound as if you’ve gone without food quite a bit. Matt’s letters led me to believe our government kept our soldiers pretty well fed.”

  He stared down at his plate, avoiding the questions in her gaze. “The guards at the camp weren’t quite as accommodating.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Were you one of the POWs they just released?” When he simply nodded, she sucked in her lower lip, tears shimmering in her eyes. “How long—”

  “Almost seven years.” Okay, so he’d tacked on a few months to throw her off. It’d felt at least that long. Considering he had no memories before that, it was a lifetime to him.

  “Did you—”

  “Look, I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped.

  “I’m sorry. I was curious. For years, I wished my husband was being held as a POW. But some of the stories I’ve heard made me pray he’d died as the Army said.”

  “Let’s leave it that he was probably lucky he did.”

  His chest constricted at the injured look on Abby’s face. It was only natural for her to want to know something about the man she’d agreed to hire. He reached across the table and took her petal-soft hand. It fit so neatly in his palm—as though it’d been shaped and sized specifically for him.

  Damn. If her knuckles were this smooth, how much softer would her breasts feel? “I’m sorry.” He stared into her watery gaze. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off. It’s just that I—”

  “It’s okay, I understand.” She gently squeezed his fingers.

  His body snapped to attention. Her compassionate gesture transfused him with a need to touch a lot more of her—a desire so strong it stole his breath.

  He didn’t want her damn pity. He wanted to see the same intense longing on her face that gnawed at his control.

  “Mommy?” Tommy tugged on Abby’s sleeve and broke the spell between them. “Will you play Sorry with us after supper?”

  As she yanked her hand back and lowered her gaze to her plate, a paradoxical urge to kiss his son and simultaneously shake him left Matt’s emotions in a baffling tug-of-war.

  “I can’t, sweetie, Uncle Robert will be here soon.”

  The child hung his head and sighed.

  Matt scrutinized his son’s face. “Don’t you like your Uncle Robert, Tom?”

  “Yeah. I guess he’s okay. I just wanna play a game tonight.”

  Abby shook her head. “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe the way Tommy is talking to you.” She smiled at her child. “He’s usually shy around adults. He barely speaks to Royce’s mom or even Robert.”

  “Really?” Two points in his favor. “So what’s your fiancé do for a living?”

  “Rob’s a dentist. His practice is about ten minutes from here. I met him when I took Tommy for a check-up.”

  Great. So it was Doctor Mercedes. If it came down to a contest for Abby’s heart, her good-looking fiancé was definitely in the catbird seat. The d
entist could provide the world for both Abby and Tommy. Whereas, at the moment, Matt couldn’t support a family if his life depended on it.

  A soft poof escaped from the stove. Abby jumped up from her seat. “Darn it, I forgot to turn off the oven.”

  Matt glanced at Tommy still gagging down his peas. While Abby’s back was turned, he took his son’s dish and scraped what was left onto his own plate. When the boys giggled, he held his finger to his lips and washed the peas down with the rest of his milk like a mouthful of pills.

  Abby returned to the table and smiled at Tommy’s empty plate. “Hey, you did a great job. I think that deserves a kiss.”

  The child’s mouth trembled a second before guilt got the best of him and his confession tumbled out. “M-Mommy, I didn’t really eat them.”

  She turned to his friend. “Rooooyce—did you eat Tommy’s peas for him again?”

  “I’m sorry,” Royce mumbled down at his lap.

  Matt’s heart ached for the little guy who was willing to take the heat to keep their secret. “Royce didn’t eat them, Abby, I did.”

  She scowled at him. “If you’re going to work around here, I’ll thank you not to undermine my discipline.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stand watching Tommy suff—”

  “As a single parent, I don’t have the luxury of playing the nice guy.”

  Damn it. She was right. She’d had it tough raising their child alone. And from all appearances, she was a great mom. The last thing she needed was Matt making her job harder by setting himself up as a hero to his kid.

  “I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.”

  Once the boys ran off to play, Matt sipped a cup of coffee while enjoying half a dozen of Abby’s delicious homemade cookies. “So what time do the kids have breakfast?”

  “I only have Tommy in the mornings. Lucy doesn’t leave for work until after the boys go to school. Breakfast is normally about eight, but since tomorrow is Saturday, it’ll probably be closer to nine.”

  “But I saw the kids come home on the afternoon bus. Are they in first grade already?”

  “Yes—although they’re not supposed to be. They just turned six in February. It’s been an interesting year for them. When they started kindergarten last fall, they disrupted their class. Even my shy Tommy found ways to get into trouble.”

  “Those two?” Matt glanced over his shoulder toward the living room where Tommy and Royce were playing. “They seem like such well-behaved kids.”

  “They are. When the school tested them, they discovered the boys are both way too bright for their own good. The teacher couldn’t keep them busy enough. Of course, Lucy and I can’t afford private school, so the administration agreed to push them up to first grade. The plan is to move them back if the work becomes a struggle. But I can’t see that happening. Not with the way they drive each other.”

  “Yeah. I noticed how competitive they are. I guess maybe that’s why I assumed they were twins.”

  Or at least that excuse sounded logical.

  She chuckled and set down her empty mug. “Everything is a race or a contest with them. But as much as they tease each other, they never fight. When one of them stumbles or struggles with something, the other one is right there helping him.”

  The love in her voice when she talked about the boys made a warm feeling swell in Matt’s chest.

  “Naturally, Lucy is thrilled to have Royce in school all day so she doesn’t have to rely on me as much. But personally, I miss them.” As Abby stood and stretched, her breasts thrust out at his eye level, and the hem of her shirt lifted a few inches. If going braless was part of the women’s rights movement, as far as he was concerned, those lush beauties should definitely be liberated.

  He squashed the intense urge to press his lips to her stomach and dip his tongue into her navel. Tearing his gaze away, he rose to help clear the table. “So what’s the story with Royce?”

  She opened the dishwasher and began loading it. “His dad has a gambling problem. Lucy works as a bank teller all day and is waiting tables in the evening to keep the mortgage company from foreclosing. I’ve tried to talk her into leaving Bill, but she won’t. If I didn’t take care of Royce....” She turned her back to Matt and gripped the counter.

  Evidently she hated the idea of the kid being left on his own as much as he did. He couldn’t help but admire her. Not many neighbors would be so charitable.

  “You’re a good woman to look after him.” He stepped toward her with the last of the plates, and she turned abruptly, placing her rose-scented hair directly under his nose. His tongue thickened in his mouth. Her lips parted, and she stared up at him, her green eyes blinking like two flashing traffic lights giving him the go signal.

  Damn, he wanted to kiss her something fierce. He had to get out of there before he did something stupid. Besides, he still needed to find someplace to sleep. Of course, that was assuming he didn’t have another one of his nightmares, in which case, his temporary bed would become just a warm place to wait for morning.

  “I’d like to help you finish cleaning up,” he murmured, “but I’d better hit the road before it’s totally dark.”

  “Right.” The color in her cheeks deepened. She jerked her gaze away.

  “Thanks a lot for dinner. It was delicious. I’ll see you at nine tomorrow.” Striding out the back door he picked up his duffel bag and swallowed hard. What the hell was he getting himself into? Abby was engaged to marry someone who had so much more to offer her than he could.

  Before getting to know her, it’d seemed like a great idea to use his anonymity to explore whether they could rekindle anything between them. However, he hadn’t counted on liking her or wanting her so damn much.

  Suddenly, the outcome of how his return would affect her and Tommy mattered a great deal.

  Matt glanced over his shoulder at the silhouette of her house set against the last glimmer of twilight and fought the urge to march back inside and announce who he was. At least if he told her, he wouldn’t have to find someplace to sleep tonight. The stress of the day had left him dead on his feet.

  As he ambled by Abby’s car in the driveway, he hesitated. Could he be that lucky?

  He tried the Pontiac’s door and sent up a prayer of thanks when it opened. Why not? He’d bought the GTO for her. After crawling inside and closing it as quietly as possible, he curled up on the back seat, using his duffle bag as a pillow.

  Things would’ve been much easier if he’d felt nothing on meeting Abby. Unfortunately, his intense visceral reaction had proven he owed it to himself and his son to see if what he felt was more than a simple case of the hots for a beautiful woman.

  Yawning, he closed his eyes and recalled her flowery smell and the way her laughter made his heart flutter. Suppose he fell in love with her and then discovered she really wanted her dentist?

  Matt couldn’t blame her. Compared to Robert, he didn’t have a single thing to recommend him as a husband. He finished in last place as just an unemployed vet with no car, no job, no money, and even more importantly—no memory. All he could offer Abby and his kid was himself.

  Whoever the hell he was.

  ~~~

  Matt stared at the mildewed cement floor, trying to nap with his eyes open. He hadn’t slept more than a few minutes in the three days since his capture, and they’d only fed him twice. Every time he’d dozed off the maggots had burned him on the arms with one of his cigarettes. Talk about aversion therapy. Abby would be happy to know he’d never touch another cigarette for the rest of his life.

  At the rate things were going, it wouldn’t be a long one.

  As he moved, he grimaced, barely able to draw a breath. Besides knocking out his front teeth, the bastards had definitely fractured a rib and broken his nose. In fact, it felt like they’d possibly cracked his right cheekbone along with his left brow.

  Then again, what’d he expect after having his mug repeatedly slammed into the concrete floor?

  Clo
sing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the damp cement wall and the image of Abby’s beautiful face danced in front of him. He gingerly wiped the tears that spilled down his battered cheeks. In the past few days, he’d turned into a sniveling wuss.

  To take his mind off his pain, he hummed Abby’s and his song, In My Life. The Beatles’ tune had been playing in the theater before the movie on their first date.

  The door to his cell clanged like a hammer hitting an anvil, and three pairs of dusty boots appeared in his bleary range of sight. He glanced up at the two guards who’d beaten him earlier and their rat-faced commanding officer who scanned the oozing blisters on Matt’s arms. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

  Matt glared at the rodent and rattled off his name, rank, and serial number for the ten thousandth time.

  The man switched to tormenting him again. “You think Abby’s lover will make her feel wonderful like you?” The bastard’s malevolent smile turned smug. “Yes. I see the letter and can read English. Your little wife is eager. Soon she find another man to make her wiggle in the bed. She forget you.”

  Somehow the little shit had sensed Matt’s greatest fear. He’d lost track of the number of girls he’d slept while he was in college. None of them had ever responded to him with the trust and passion Abby had. She made him feel incredible.

  “It not be you watching your baby take first step.”

  Matt trembled, trying not to react and give the scum-bag cause to shoot him. He should’ve eaten Abby’s letter and picture. His only source of comfort had become their most effective weapon against him.

  Compared to the bug-infested rice and muddy, stagnate water they’d been serving him, the stationary and photograph seemed downright appetizing. If he wasn’t certain the mother-fucker would blow his head off, he would request them for dessert.

  “You forget her and life before you come here,” the man taunted. “You not going back. Your government think you dead.”

  The true agony came from knowing the sadistic SOB spoke the truth. The helicopter’s explosion would’ve left serious doubt that Matt could’ve walked away, and the North Vietnamese soldier who’d broken Matt’s dog tag chain during their struggle had no doubt been cremated in his place.

 

‹ Prev