The Memory of You

by Laurie Kellogg

  “Is that what you learned today?”

  “Nah. We was borrowin’ and carryin’.”

  His kid might be a whiz at math, but his grammar definitely needed help.

  Rob persisted in boring them during dessert and stopped mid-sentence, frowning when he saw Tommy licking icing from his finger. “Tom, use your fork, or you can leave the table.”

  Matt’s stomach clenched. The ring on Abby’s finger gave the pompous ass the right to correct Matt’s son, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could say about it. Especially since Abby actually seemed to welcome her fiancé’s sudden paternal interest.

  Tommy’s mouth twisted with resentment, but he obediently picked up his fork while the dentist continued his endless dissertation on root canals.

  At the conclusion of dinner, Robert switched on the television in the living room. Matt gently pushed Abby toward the archway. “The boys and I can clean up. Go entertain your fiancé. If I have to hear another word about periodontal disease, I’m gonna puke.”

  He finished in the kitchen and sent the boys to shower and get ready for bed. When he was through reading them the library books they’d brought home from school, he poked his head into the living room.

  Robert had passed out on the sofa and was snoring like a grizzly bear while Abby sat in the recliner, hand stitching the trouser cuffs on a suit she’d been hired to alter.

  “Great company isn’t he?” Matt snorted. “Does he always drink that much?”

  “No. I think that scene before dinner drove him to it.”

  “I’m sorry. I forgot he was sitting behind me.”

  In truth, he’d probably done her a favor. Robert’s snoring had to be better than another sermon on gingivitis.

  “The boys want to kiss you goodnight.”

  “They’re in bed already?” She folded the pants and draped them across the chair. “Thank you.”

  “By the way, do you have a few sheets of paper? I’m drafting my résumé tonight.”

  “There should be a ream of typing paper and a package of lined writing pads on the shelf in your closet,” she called over her shoulder. “Help yourself. There’s a portable typewriter in there, too, if you’d like to use it.”

  Matt followed her down the hall to Tommy’s room and stood in the doorway while she tucked in the kids.

  When she started to leave, Tommy grabbed her hand. “Mom, you didn’t sing to us.”

  She glanced back at Matt, blushing. “Sorry, I forgot.” She took a deep breath. “There are places I remember....”

  He grabbed the doorjamb to steady himself. For some reason, hearing her haunting voice sing In My Life made his chest boa-constrictor tight. No wonder that song had been on his mind for all these years. When she finished, he applauded softly. “You have a beautiful voice.”

  “And that’s just in the bedroom. You should hear me in the shower.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  Her cheeks turned as pink as if she’d washed her face in raspberry juice. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it.”

  “Damn.” He snapped his fingers. “You can’t blame a guy for dreaming.”

  ~~~

  At ten o’clock, Matt placed his completed résumé in the duffel bag on the floor of his closet and wandered out to the kitchen for another slice of cake.

  Robert grabbed the doorknob, preparing to leave, and glared at the huge wedge of chocolate layer cake Matt slid onto a dessert plate. “Didn’t you eat enough for dinner?”

  “Rob!” Abby gasped. “Don’t be rude.”

  “He can’t help it.” Matt stabbed his fork into the fudge icing.

  Robert swept Abby into his arms and kissed her more passionately than Matt suspected the jackass would’ve if he hadn’t had an audience. “Goodbye, Honey. I have to meet with my accountant tomorrow night to do my taxes, so I won’t have time to see you.”

  “On Friday evening?”

  “When you put it off until the second week in April, beggars can’t be choosers.”

  He left without saying another word to Matt, and a few moments later, Lucy arrived, her face tear-streaked.

  Abby wrapped her arms around her. “Luce, what’s wrong?”

  She handed Abby a letter and sank into a kitchen chair, sobbing. Abby scanned it, her mouth hanging open. When she finished, she handed it to him to read.

  Lucy,

  That bastard’s threats were the last straw. Since Mr. Rogers thinks he can be a better father and husband, I’ll take his advice and split. He’s welcome to you. You can have the house. Don’t expect anything else from me.

  Bill

  Matt set his empty cake plate down and took Lucy’s hand. “I know this is my fault, but I’m not sorry. You’re better off without him.”

  “I know.” Lucy buried her face in his shoulder. “I thought about what you said the other night. You were right. I couldn’t let him keep hurting Royce. At least, Bill left us the house—even if it does need a lot of work, and it’s mortgaged to the max.”

  She made it sound as if the son of a bitch should be given a medal for his generosity. “Don’t worry.” Matt patted her back. “I’ll take care of whatever needs fixing.”

  ~~~

  Mac carried Royce through the back door followed by Lucy. Abby really wanted to be there to support her friend, but at the moment, a man’s attention would probably do more for Lucy than anything Abby could say or do.

  When Mac didn’t return right away, she went to bed and tossed and turned until she finally heard the back door close shortly after one. She slipped on her robe and opened her bedroom door. Mac strode down the hallway. “Hey, you look exhausted. You shouldn’t have waited up.”

  “I was worried about Lucy. How is she?”

  “She needed to talk, but she’ll be okay. She’s a strong, beautiful woman. I’m sure someone else will fall for her.” He stroked his knuckle down the side of Abby’s face and whispered thickly, “You’d better get to bed before those bags under your eyes turn into suitcases.”

  She struggled to draw a breath and inhaled a hint of the fragrance Lucy always wore mingling with his clean male scent. It could only mean he’d been holding Royce’s mom.

  “Well, goodnight.” She closed her door and leaned back against it. Was Mac interested in Lucy? He’d evidently given Bill the impression he was.

  Mac was a good man, and he genuinely cared for Royce. He’d be perfect for her friend, and Lucy could give him the family he wanted.

  So why did the idea of them getting together bother her so much?

  Abby wrapped herself in the quilt she’d made for Matt as a wedding gift. In the center of it, she’d stitched their names and wedding date and appliquéd a house surrounded by children.

  She pulled Matt’s last letter out of her night table and carefully smoothed out the creases from the hundreds of times she’d read it.

  Hi Babe,

  Everyone went into Da Nang, so the barrack is like a tomb tonight. I would’ve gone, but it’s Saturday, and the guys weren’t going for just a few beers—if you know what I mean.

  I miss you something awful. All I can think about is how good it felt to hold you all night for the two weeks before I left. I wake up smelling you and imagining the taste of you on my lips. Then I miss you even more.

  I love the picture you sent. If you really think we need to pick out a girl’s name, too, send me some suggestions. But with as huge as your belly is, I’m sure we’re having a boy.

  How do you like the sexy little kimono? I can’t wait to see you in it. The teddy is for Tommy. If you sleep with Mr. T. Bear, maybe our son will stop kicking all night. Tell him, if anyone is going to keep his mommy awake, it’s going to be his old man.

  I never believed I could love anyone as much as I love you. The guys gave me a hard time tonight when I told them I wasn’t interested in joining their nooky hunt. They don’t understand it’s not possible for me to get ‘luckier’ than I already am.

  Just thinki
ng about holding you is getting me hot. So I guess I’d better hit the shower and keep my date with Bubbles before the guys get back. She’s one sexy bar of soap, Sweetheart, but she can’t compete with your sweet loving.

  I love you and miss you more every day,

  Matt

  Crushing the letter to her chest, she choked back a sob and whispered, “Oh, Matt, please forgive me. I’m so tired of being alone.”

  She switched off the light and recalled her son’s apprehension about her marrying Rob. She should probably discourage Mac from paying so much attention to Tommy. If he got too close to Mac, he’d never bond with Robert.

  ~~~

  Matt woke up at seven-thirty and frowned when he didn’t smell or hear anything. He pulled on his clothes and crept into Tommy’s room. “Come on, Buddy.” He gently shook his son. “It’s time to get up for school.”

  Tommy ground his knuckles into his eyes. “Where’s Mommy?”

  “I think she must’ve slept through her alarm. You get dressed, and I’ll see about making some breakfast for us.”

  “What should I wear?”

  Apparently, Abby still laid out the kid’s clothes.

  “I think you’re big enough to decide that. If you have a problem, call me.”

  In the kitchen, Matt tried to summon up the rudiments of cooking and drew a blank. It must not be something he’d ever done. He couldn’t let his son go to school hungry.

  When Tommy wandered out, he wrinkled his nose at the bowl of cornflakes and bananas Matt had prepared. “I don’t like that cereal. Mommy always cooks breakfast. She makes oatmeal with cinnamon and raisins and sometimes French toast or pancakes. She puts cheese in my eggs, and we have bacon and sausage. Sometimes she even makes ‘taters for me.”

  The child finished listing the multitude of things his mother prepared for him in the morning, all of which required the use of the stove and left Matt salivating. He wouldn’t mind eating any one of the things his son had mentioned.

  “I’m sorry, Bud, I don’t know how to make any of that.” He could try frying up some eggs, but undoubtedly the result of his culinary efforts would end up in the trash can. He pulled out the jar of peanut butter to make a sandwich for Tommy’s lunchbox.

  “I thought you knew how to do everything.”

  Matt hated disillusioning his son, but facts were facts. “Well, maybe nearly everything. But not cooking.”

  “It’s easy. I know how. I watch Mommy all the time.”

  “You do, huh?” He licked a glob of jelly from his hand. “Why don’t you teach me?”

  While lying in the hospital, he’d imagined a lot of weird scenarios for his uncertain future, but taking cooking lessons from a six-year-old took the grand prize in absurd.

  ~~~

  Once Matt returned to the house from taking Tommy to the bus, he rolled back his sleeves to clean up the mess he’d made. The scrambled eggs hadn’t come even close to being as fluffy as Abby’s, but they were edible and Tommy hadn’t seemed to mind.

  Matt wiped up the puddles of egg he’d dripped on the stovetop and looked up to find Rob standing outside the back door. The dentist stepped inside and flicked a glance at the dirty plates from breakfast. “Where’s Abby?”

  “We were up late, so I took Tommy to the bus and let her sleep in.”

  “Up late? Doing what?”

  Matt pursed his lips. “I don’t like your insinuation.”

  “Then we’re even, because I don’t like you being here.”

  “What the hell do you find so threatening about me, Webber?”

  “I don’t like the way you walk around here, sucking up to those kids as if you’re the man of the house. Even Stevie Wonder could see you’re trying to impress Abby with what a good daddy you’d make.”

  “Maybe if you paid some attention to my son, Rob,” Abby snapped from the doorway, “Mac wouldn’t be able to impress Tommy or me.” She hugged her robe tighter and turned to Matt. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Because you obviously needed the sleep. You’ll be happy to know your son is capable of picking out his own clothes and teaching this idiot how to make scrambled eggs.”

  Robert glanced at his watch. “Well, I guess that shoots breakfast. I have a patient in forty minutes.” He kissed Abby and fished his wallet out of his back pocket. “I want this freeloader gone. Book him a room at the Marriott—on me.”

  “I will do no such thing. Mac is my friend, so you can just get over your jealousy. Otherwise, you can have this back.” She yanked her ring off and held it out to him.

  “You wouldn’t break our engagement over something this trivial.”

  “I don’t consider it trivial that you’re trying to dictate to me who I can be friends with. There is nothing improper going on between Mac and me, and I resent your implication that there is.”

  Robert slid her ring back on her finger. “Fine, I’m sorry. Just make sure you finish addressing the invitations and mail them today, okay?”

  As soon as he left, Abby spun and confronted Matt. “And you need to stop doting on my son. He’s getting way too attached to you.”

  Which was exactly what Matt wanted to happen. “I’m just trying to be his friend. The kid is a bundle of anxiety over Rob coming to live with you.”

  “And why do you think that is? You’ve made him look second-rate to Tommy.”

  “Come on, Abby. No one can make Rob look bad except Rob. Whether you want to admit it or not, your son needs a man in his life who gives a damn about him.” He turned to the hallway. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a doctor’s appointment to keep.”

  Matt strode out to the garage, and as he started the Harley, Abby ran into the garage from the laundry room, waving her keys. “Wait, it looks like it’s going to rain. Take my car.”

  Her offer was just another reminder he couldn’t measure up as a provider. “No, thanks,” he yelled over the rumbling engine. “I can at least be responsible for my own transportation. I’ve already had a big enough chunk of my manhood stolen. I don’t need you taking any more of it.”

  Chapter 9

  Matt dropped off his handwritten résumé at the typing service to be professionally prepared and then roared down the Interstate to the VA hospital. Only seconds after he completed the hour drive to Dr. Grant’s office, it began raining.

  The doctor settled in the chair across from him with a pad. She pointed at his jiggling leg. “Why are you so nervous, Matt?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m a little uneasy about having my head shrunk.”

  “Relax. All we’re going to do is talk. How have things gone the last week? Have you remembered anything more?”

  He shook his head and told her about Abby and his son and everything that had transpired since he’d left the hospital. “It never dawned on me that my own wife wouldn’t recognize me.”

  “It’s not so surprising considering how many of your facial bones were broken. Not to mention, she hasn’t seen you in over six and a half years. Memories fade, and the resemblance between you and the guy she knew is subtle.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Even if you looked the same, it would be natural for Abby to think she was imagining things or figure you just look a lot like her late husband.” The doctor touched her pen to her mouth. “Still, I’m glad you’re not trying to force a relationship. You need to give yourselves time to rediscover each other.”

  Matt leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m not even sure there’s anything to rediscover. It’s possible we never loved each other in the first place.” He curled his mouth in an abashed smile and told her how he’d gotten Abby pregnant.

  “At the time, you must’ve felt a sense of responsibility or had feelings for her. After all, you did marry her.”

  “The thing is, I don’t know what my motivation was. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why I’m not remembering.”

  He wasn’t sure how to articulate what he’d been feeling. “From t
he day I woke up with no memory, I’ve been terrified I’d find out I was the kind of man I would despise. What I learned from Abby’s brother makes that seem like a real possibility. According to him, I slept with so many girls condom stock prices dropped twenty points the day I left for ‘Nam. Maybe I don’t want to become reacquainted with myself because I was a total sleaze.”

  “As I’ve said before, you’re the best judge of your subconscious feelings.”

  “Well, I’m feeling like maybe I should just forget about Abby and let her marry Robert. He seems to genuinely love her. I can be a father to Tommy without being Abby’s husband.” Matt raked his fingers through his hair. “I just don’t want to be stuck in a loveless marriage or spend my life wondering if she only stayed with me out of a sense of duty.”

  Dr. Grant smiled. “You sound as if maybe you’re already feeling something for her.”

  Certain parts of him definitely were. Heat crept up his neck to his cheeks. “It’s been a long time, and she’s a beautiful woman.”

  “So it’s simply a physical attraction?”

  “Not at all. She’s funny and talented. You should see the fancy dresses she makes. She’s an incredible mother and an amazing cook. I especially like that she’s so generous and tenderhearted. And all I have to offer her is a life standing in soup lines.”

  The doctor scribbled something on her pad. “You’ll find a job. You have an excellent education.”

  “Yeah, a seven-year-old degree I’ve never used. One of the employment agents accused me of being hooked on drugs when I got spooked after he slammed a filing cabinet drawer.”

  “Why do you think that frightened you?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe it reminded me of my cell door closing.”

  “It makes sense. Sounds, odors, and even certain situations can trigger traumatic memories and generate a physical response. Have you experienced much of that?”

  “A little. I panic at the smell of gas or cigarette smoke, and when people ask my name I freeze up.” The worst was if someone grabbed his neck. “Other than that, I can forget what happened enough to keep it from preying on my mind.”