The Memory of You

by Laurie Kellogg

  Chapter 18

  Abby sank into the swivel chair at her sewing machine to finish the dress she was working on. When she shook out the garment, the kids’ treasure maps fluttered to the floor.

  She scooped up the intricate drawings and smiled at their vivid imaginations. Some typewritten print showed through from the back of the page and her amusement died. The boys were in hot water if they’d scribbled on something important. Flipping the papers over, she released a breath of relief. The copies of Mac’s résumé must have been in the closet, too.

  Scanning the page, she read Matt’s name and gasped.

  Matt’s full name.

  Stunned, she stared at the paper, trying to think of one single, plausible explanation.

  Uh-oh. Was this why Mac had been pumping her for information about her husband since the day they met? So he could use Matt’s credentials? Maybe the woman who’d asked for Matt on the phone had been from an employment agency.

  For most people, being an alumnus of a prestigious school wouldn’t be worth giving up their entire identity. But Mac couldn’t remember his own life, anyway. Perhaps he figured he had nothing to lose by assuming her husband’s place in the world.

  Oh, dear God. Her stomach knotted. What if Mac had made up the whole story about being held captive and he was actually a fugitive from the law. Everyone constantly berated her for being too trusting. Maybe Rob had been right about Mac all along. The only thing she knew about him was what he’d told her. That story about his amnesia could be a big fat lie.

  Did he think he could just step into her husband’s shoes?

  She snorted, disgusted with herself. Shoes were the least of it. She’d given him Matt’s clothes, his motorcycle—his son. She’d as much as handed Matt’s whole life to him on a silver platter. Dear Lord, she’d even slept with him.

  Did he really think she would never find out or that, if she did, she would go along with his charade?

  She yanked open the basement door and yelled down the stairs. “Mac, come up here!”

  “Just a sec. I have to finish applying this coat of varnish first or it won’t come out even.”

  Abby flopped into the chair to wait. What a fool he’d made of her. How dare that two-faced impostor pass himself off as a man who’d been a model of honesty and integrity?

  ~~~

  Matt dropped the varnish brush in a jar of denatured alcohol and trotted up the steps. He found Abby seated at the table, her arms crossed over her chest, looking ready to blow a gasket.

  She rose shoved the boy’s treasure maps at his chest. “Did you think I’d never find out?”

  “Find out what?” He frowned at the children’s drawings. “Where they buried their baseball cards?”

  She snatched the papers back and flipped them over, slapping them down on the table.

  Matt’s stomach sunk. She knew.

  He raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Look, I understand you being pissed. But I was going to tell you eventually. I just hoped we’d fall in love with each other first.”

  “You lying son-of-a-bastard. Did you honestly believe if you conned me into falling in love with you, I’d let a fraud like you take over Matthew’s life? Did you think I wanted my husband back so badly you could become him for me?”

  Damn. She didn’t know.

  He gawked at her, amazed she could possibly think he was impersonating himself. It was ludicrous. It wasn’t as if Matthew T. Foster had a whole lot going for him.

  What the hell had happened to the woman who only saw the good in people?

  The time had come to take the glasses off and confess he was really Superman.

  Matt cupped her cheek in his hand and stared into her eyes. “Abby, I am your husband.”

  She shoved his hand away, her face contorted in outrage. “Did I actually let someone mentally ill into my home? You’re delusional if you think you have a prayer of convincing me you’re Matt.”

  “I know it’s hard for you to swallow. I’ve changed a lot. At first, I didn’t believe it, either.”

  “Just stop it! Not only is what you’re doing despicable, you’re insulting my intelligence. Do you think I wouldn’t know my own husband? You are nothing like him.”

  He could show her the copy of his birth certificate, but in her state of mind, she’d probably accuse him of forging it. One phone call to Dr. Grant could clear up the whole mess, but for some inexplicable reason, he wanted Abby to recognize the hidden man within him.

  Sadly, it was just as he’d feared. The man she loved no longer existed.

  “I am your—”

  “Would you keep your voice down.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the living room.

  “—husband,” he finished in a softer voice. “Whether you believe me or not.”

  “You don’t quit, do you?” She huffed. “If you’re Matthew, tell me something about us that only he would know.”

  “I can’t do that. I really don’t have any memory about us. I only know what you and Pete have told me.”

  “What a handy excuse,” she snarled, pushing him away. “You’re not even the same age as Matt, who would’ve been twenty-nine. You’re at least thirty-five. And your hair isn’t even close to the same color.”

  “Years of torture ages a person, Abby. My dad’s hair got a lot darker as he got older, too.”

  “Right. And how do you explain your face being different?”

  “Half the bones in it were broken at one time.”

  “And I suppose they put braces on your teeth while you were a captive and straightened that crooked one.”

  “No.” He scrubbed his eyes, racking his brain for a way to convince her. “I looked like Tommy and Royce when I came home. I’ve got a permanent bridge.”

  Abby glared at him. “Assuming everything you’re saying could make sense, there’s still no way you could be my husband.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “I’ve been to bed with you,” she whispered. “A man’s penis doesn’t grow as he ages.”

  “What!” He burst out laughing and then lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “My dick is no bigger than it’s ever been. It just seems like it is because I’m so thin right now.

  “Yeah, well you don’t make love anything like Matt did, either.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Your cries of ecstasy prove that’s not necessarily a bad thing.” He peered into her face. “If I’m so all-fired different, why’d you call me Matt when you came?”

  She crossed her arms indignantly. “I did not.”

  “The hell you didn’t.”

  When she continued to stare at him, he tossed his hands up. “Fine, don’t believe me. Eventually, you’ll realize I’m giving it to you straight, and you’ll be sorry. As for now, I’m telling my son who I really am.”

  “Don’t you dare!” she hollered, grabbing his arm. “I won’t let you fill my child’s head with lies. I want you out of here, right this minute. Peter will finish painting my house.”

  Matt yanked his arm out of her grasp. “No. I’m staying. If you want me out of here, you’ll have to call the police.”

  “Don’t think I won’t.”

  “Great. Make sure you ask them to send John. While you’re contacting them, I’m talking to my son.”

  She jammed her hands into her hips. “You’d better not!” He ignored her and kept going. “Mac!”

  Dr. Grant had speculated that Abby’s first inclination would be to try to explain him away. A corpse couldn’t just come back to life. She needed time to accept he hadn’t died.

  He sat next to his son at the piano. “Hey, Buddy, can you stop playing a minute? I want to talk to you.”

  Tommy turned to face him. “But I only played a little—”

  “No, it’s not about the piano. It’s about you and me.” He pulled Tommy up on his knee. “There’s something I have to tell you. Your daddy didn’t die and go to heaven like your mom thought. He was captured and has been a pris
oner in another country since you were born.”

  Tommy peered at him and whispered, “How do you know?”

  “I know because I’m your real daddy.”

  “Really?” Tommy’s eyes widened. “Not just make believe?”

  Matt smiled and hugged him. “Not just make believe.”

  The envy on Royce’s face stabbed at Matt’s heart. He held his free arm out to him and the child dropped his notebook and rushed into his embrace. Pulling the little boy to his other knee, he looked up at Abby scowling at him from the archway. He squeezed Tommy and Royce to his chest and murmured, “I love you, guys.”

  ~~~

  Abby gnashed her teeth, horrified by what Mac was doing to her son. Evidently she wasn’t as good a judge of character as she’d always thought. How could he do something like this to a child he professed to love? Unless....

  Swallowing hard, she watched him press his face to each of the boy’s heads. Could it be true? She couldn’t see how. He was too different. All except for his eyes.

  She mentally replayed the various times he’d reminded her of her husband in some small aspect. But they were such minor, insignificant ways. Just phrases and mannerisms.

  No. He was merely a talented con artist, and what he was doing was cruel.

  Mac put the boys each into a headlock and tickled them until they screeched.

  Still, how could a fake be so good with them?

  He raised his eyebrows, wearing a smug expression. “So have you called the police to come drag me out of here?”

  “Not yet.” She really should. So why hadn’t she? Maybe deep down inside she wasn’t really sure. But just wishing for it to be true couldn’t make it so.

  “Hey, fellas.” He mussed the boys’ hair. “I think I saw some ice cream in the freezer.” He led the kids into the kitchen and dished up three bowls, glancing over at her. “Would you like some, Abby?”

  She shook her head and leaned against the cabinets to watch them. While they ate their ice cream, Mac studied the kids’ maps he’d left lying on the table. “So what treasure did you guys bury this afternoon?”

  “I had a bunch of special marbles,” Tommy said.

  “And I buried some really cool stones.” Royce pointed to a purple X on his map. “See? X marks the spot.”

  They spent the next five minutes discussing the various landmarks the boys had used. When they finished their ice cream, Mac picked up the spoons the boys had licked clean. He put the backs of them together with their handles between his fingers and banged them against his knee. “So do you plan to dig your stuff up tomorrow, or are you going to wait a little while?”

  Tommy watched him clacking the utensils together. “Wow! That’s cool. Would ya teach me how to do that?”

  Abby stared at Mac’s hands cupping the spoons, and the room spun. Matt had been the only other person she’d ever known who’d done that. As her knees buckled, she grabbed the counter.

  ~~~

  Matt noticed Abby going down out of the corner of his eye. Dropping the spoons in a clatter, he rushed over to catch her. “What’s the matter?”

  She stared into his eyes and made several false starts at speaking while tears poured down her cheeks. “Oh, Matt.” She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, sobbing. “It is you. Why d-didn’t you tell me?”

  “If you recall, I just tried.” Smiling, he tipped her face up and dipped his head to kiss her. Feeling two small pairs of eyes watching them, he looked back and nodded toward the hallway. “It’s time for you two to hit the shower. Get going.”

  After the boys ran off grinning, he kissed her gently. “Would you have believed me if I’d said something sooner?”

  Wiping her eyes, she shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not. You’ve done several things in the last week that reminded me of you, and a few minutes ago I still didn’t believe you.” She put her hand to her head. “I’m so blind. I make Lois Lane look like a genius.”

  “It’s funny you should say that.” He laughed. “I’ve been identifying with Clark Kent a lot, lately. Actually, the reason I didn’t tell you is I wanted to be sure we could feel something for each other again before I disrupted your life.”

  “What?” Her mouth hung open a moment. “What do you mean? You’re my husband. I’m your wife.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re a virtual stranger to me. I wasn’t even going to let you know I was alive. I figured, after thinking I was dead all these years, you would’ve made a new life for yourself. I saw no reason to louse that up for you. Dr. Grant talked me into coming to see you. When I got here, I saw you kissing Rob. I decided I would just write you a letter explaining my situation and wish you all the best.”

  “So what changed your mind?”

  He looked toward Tommy’s bedroom. “Twin sons. Or so I thought. I just couldn’t leave my boys.”

  Her face crumpled. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”

  “When you didn’t recognize me and told me you were getting married in six weeks, I decided to use the time to see if we could have a future together. I didn’t want to screw things up for you with Rob if I couldn’t get you to fall in love with me.”

  She ran her fingers over his face. “Get me to fall in love with you? I married you. I’ve waited so long for you to come home to us.”

  “Abby, I may be Matthew Thomas Foster, but as you pointed out, I am nothing like the man you married. Nor do I suspect you’re the same woman I said I do to, either. We don’t know each other. As far as I know, we met twelve days ago.”

  “You are a lot different from Matt.”

  “Baby, I am Matt. See, you even have trouble thinking of me as him—I mean as me.

  “But we’re going to stay married, right?”

  Matt raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. I want to, but I can’t make that kind of commitment until we know if there’s anything to our relationship. Right now we’re strangers.”

  “But we pledged ourselves to each other for life.”

  “And the government declared me dead. I’m not even sure we’re still legally married.”

  “Great. And if we are, you were just going to let me commit bigamy?

  “Of course not. I was planning to find a way to tell you next week.”

  “Even if we’re not legally married, we are in the eyes of God.”

  He held her face between his hands. “Abby, we aren’t the same people who made those promises. Regardless of what my fingerprints prove, I’m a stranger even to myself. I can pretend all I want, but I’ll never again be the man you married.”

  ~~~

  Abby squeezed her eyes shut. She’d just gotten Matt back and now he was talking about leaving. He brushed his lips over hers in a kiss so tender her chest ached. Sliding her arms around his neck, she pressed herself closer and whispered. “I still love you.”

  He drew back and peered into her face. “Who? Me? Or the boy you fell in love with? Which one of us were you kissing?”

  She couldn’t say for sure. Her feelings were for the man she married. She didn’t know Mac. But she liked kissing him, and it probably wouldn’t take much to fall in love with him. However, she couldn’t let herself until she was certain he wouldn’t leave.

  “I’m not sure. You’re right. I love the man you were. But I really don’t know the person you’ve become.”

  She could see a vague physical resemblance to his dad, but Matt’s whole personality had changed. She wouldn’t describe him as actually grim, but he was so serious compared to the light-hearted, carefree guy she’d loved.

  His mouth tightened into a thin line. “Well, at least you’re one step ahead of me. I don’t even know the girl you were. Not only that, I’m not sure who the man you loved was. And I suspect part of the reason I can’t remember is because I won’t like what I learn about myself.”

  “What do you think you’re going to discover?”

  “That I never loved you, and we didn’t really have a re
lationship to salvage.” He turned away hiding his face from her and put the ice cream bowls and spoons in the dishwasher.

  “But you did love me. Why won’t you believe that?”

  “Because I do remember the guy I was before I met you. If you had any concept of how many girls I—”

  “I wasn’t as naïve as you think. I have a very good idea what a hound you were.”

  “No, you don’t.” He turned his back to her and braced his hands against the sink. “I was only interested in one thing. Sex. I changed the girl I was screwing more often than my socks. Why do you think Pete didn’t want me anywhere near you? I was a shallow Casanova who’d had one sexual encounter after another.”

  “Not with me you weren’t.” Stepping behind him, she slid her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his back. “Did you tell anyone else you loved them?”

  “I didn’t have to, Abby. The kind of girls I slept with knew the score. Hell, they made the rules. All they wanted from me was a long hard poke.” He spun in her arms. “You may not know it, but I’m, uhh....” He looked away. “I’m a little better endowed than the average guy.”

  Over the years, she’d had plenty of overeager dates grind themselves against her and press her hand to their flies. Every time she’d stroked Rob, she’d remembered about how much thicker Matt had been. “Believe me, I know how you stack up against other men.”

  “What you don’t know is I never even had a date in high school. I was a big nobody. That’s why, even though Pete and I talked in study hall and he suggested I apply for an ROTC scholarship with him, he never hung out with me until we both ended up at Princeton.”

  “I was a nerd, too.” She smiled. “That’s probably why you liked me.”

  “Anyway, during the summer after I graduated, I concentrated on developing a cooler image for college. I worked out, bought all new clothes, and skipped my usual visit to the barber. On top of that—I went through my last growth spurt.”

  “In height?” She smiled. “Or length?”

  “Both. When the semester started, I was popular for the first time in my life. After I got my first taste of sex, I couldn’t get enough. It was as if I was afraid everyone would eventually realize I was just a loser in disguise and my sex-fest would suddenly end.”