Memory's Edge: Part One

by Gladden, DelSheree

  Gretchen looked a little taken aback by the direct question, but she answered anyway. “Like I said, I knew John had nowhere else to go. With no family or friends, he didn’t have anyone to help him get back on his feet. I just wanted to help.”

  Turning back to the camera, Melinda seemed to forget them completely. She was focused on impressing the anchorman. “Well, Jim, there you have it. These two have gone from tragedy in the middle of the desert to a budding relationship. It might not be the ideal way for two people to come together, but sometimes real life fairytales don’t play out exactly as they do in books.”

  She seemed to be listening to something Jim was saying, then smiled and wrapped up the interview with, “We would like to remind our viewers that this man is desperately searching for anyone who might know who he is. If you recognize this man or know anything about the assailants who attacked him, please call the number on the bottom of your screen. This is Melinda Velasquez. Back to you, Jim.”

  Tossing the microphone to her assistant, Melinda took a rubber band in return and deftly looped her hair up into a bun. “And we’re all done,” she said proudly. “Thank you for letting us into your home.

  “Thank you for covering the story,” Gretchen said. “We really appreciate it.”

  “Well, it’s not everyday something like this happens,” Melinda said. “Viewers love these kinds of stories. Tragedy, love, and a little bit of danger. They’ll eat it up.”

  Gretchen cocked her head to the side at Melinda’s comment. “I guess.”

  Melinda nodded and proceeded to herd her crew out the door. John and Gretchen watched them pile into the van with surprising efficiency. John was glad to see them go. He maneuvered his crutches so he could turn when Gretchen huffed next to him.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, turning around. Her eyes were focused to the side, and when he followed her gaze John was startled to see a very large man lumbering up the driveway toward the front door. He looked angry. John wasn’t sure what use he would be, but he tried to move himself in front of Gretchen. Gretchen put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

  “John, why don’t you go sit down and rest?” she said. It wasn’t a suggestion.

  “Gretchen …” John started.

  “Now, John. I can handle Carl on my own.”

  She was pretty angry herself, by that point. The look on her face convinced John she could indeed handle the overgrown tantrum thrower.

  “Go, John,” Gretchen said, pushing him back and shutting the door in his face.

  Suddenly, John was worried less about Gretchen than he was Carl.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fairytales and Fights

  Gretchen stalked across the grass right up to Carl. She couldn’t believe he was doing this. At least the news van had already pulled away. Being on the news screaming at her neighbor was the last thing she needed. Although, Melinda would have loved the follow up. First Gretchen was this kind and caring woman, then she was a total nutcase. Gretchen really didn’t need that right now. She didn’t need Carl fighting with her in her front yard about John again, either.

  “What, Carl?” Gretchen demanded.

  “What the hell was all that about, Gretchen?” he demanded right back.

  “What are you talking about? I told you two days ago that they were coming to do a story about John. Don’t you remember standing right here, arguing about whether or not it was a good idea, like I needed your permission or something?”

  Was he really that thickheaded? Gretchen wanted to slap him. She suspected it would hurt her worse than it would him, or she might have actually done it. Instead, she settled for jabbing him with her finger and saying, “This has nothing to do with you. It was about John trying to find out who he is.”

  “A story about John, Gretchen, not about you and him meeting up like some kind of twisted fairytale. What was that about your budding relationship with John?” he asked. His arms folded across his chest, muscles tensed, trying to hold himself back. He still looked as though he were about to explode in her face.

  “Are you serious? That’s what you’re mad about?” She didn’t have the energy for such stupidity. “The reporter was only saying that to make it sound more interesting to. I never said anything like that, and neither did John.”

  “Oh really? So she just decided you two were so cute and in love all on her own then?” Carl asked, his emotions still boiling over.

  “Yeah, she did. She was trying to play to the camera and have something witty to say at the end of her report. It didn’t mean anything. There’s no reason for her to think that anyway,” Gretchen said. “I’m not in love with John, and I have never claimed to be.” Why was she defending herself to him? Her personal feelings weren’t any of his business. Despite his protective steak, he wasn't in charge of her. Gretchen did not have to explain every choice she made to him.

  “So you don’t think you visiting John in the hospital all week and then letting him live in your house, and feeding and clothing him, doesn’t make people think that you’ve fallen head over heels for this guy?” Carl asked.

  “Nobody thinks that, Carl,” she snapped.

  “Yes, they do,” he said, his anger finally turning to hurt, giving away the true source of his emotional outburst.

  Gretchen’s anger at him faded. He was the one who thought she was falling in love with John. It wasn’t really about what the reporter said, but about the fact that she’d said it where everyone could hear his personal fears. Maybe he thought her saying it made it more real, confirmed everything he had been thinking.

  “Carl,” Gretchen said softly, “I’m not your girlfriend. I never have been.”

  Carl looked up at the sky and shook his head. “That’s not the point, Gretchen.”

  “Yes it is. I know you have feelings for me you wish I could return, but I can’t. John has nothing to do with how I feel about you,” she said. “You’re a good man, and a wonderful friend, but that’s it. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s just…it’s a bad idea, Gretchen, a really bad idea to fall for this guy,” Carl said.

  The pleading in his voice broke her heart. In that moment, she would have given anything to soothe his pain. She knew exactly what it would take to mend his heart, and it was the one thing she couldn’t give him.

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Carl said.

  “What makes you think John is going to hurt me?”

  “Besides the fact that he might be a murderer, one of these days he’s either going to get his memory back or his family is going to come looking for him. And no matter how much you’ve done for him, he’s going to choose them over you. He’s going to break your heart.” Reaching down, he took Gretchen’s hand in his. “You know as well as I do that he’s going to leave you in the end, and if you let this continue, it will crush you.”

  The seriousness in his face was too much. Gretchen should have been angry at Carl for sticking his nose into her life, yet again, but his honesty pierced straight through her. Instead of storming off, Gretchen wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself against him in a hug. He put his arms around her in a flash and embraced her even tighter.

  When Gretchen pulled back, she looked up at him and held his eyes. “Carl, do you think you’re telling me anything I don’t already know?”

  Carl’s face clouded in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “I know that the there’s a very good chance John will either get his memory back or his family will find him. I have understood that from day one. I hope it does happen, because I see how much it tortures him to think there’s nobody in this whole world who cared when he was left for dead,” Gretchen said.

  Would Carl ever understand what she was saying? Gretchen wasn't even sure she understood it herself. Her own feelings were as mottled as Carl’s. She knew she wanted to help John, but how far could she let that go? Carl obviously saw a line she shouldn’t cross. If Gretchen saw a line, it was too blurry to tell where it
was.

  “I know John will probably leave one day and go back to his old life, but I won’t leave him alone right now. He needs somebody to care about him while he’s healing, and I can be that person,” Gretchen said.

  “It’s more than that, Gretchen. Even if you don’t want to admit it, it’s there. I can see it when you look at him. You want more than to be his friend,” Carl said.

  He could see it? Could John? Gretchen had to admit she could. She had refused to admit it, even to herself, but she knew the desire was there. Being with John the past few weeks, she saw what they could have together. She also saw the pain it could cause. Gretchen wanted to be his friend and help him through this, but she wanted more at the same time, and felt guilty for wanting it. In some ways, it felt wrong to even consider letting her feelings for him surface when he was already dealing with so much, but what if he felt the same? What if falling in love took away some of his pain?

  “Is it really so bad if I want more?” Gretchen asked Carl, unable to look him in the eye.

  Carl shook his head and frowned. “It won’t end well. You and I both know it won’t.”

  “But wouldn’t it be worth it?” she asked. “If I could be happy for a while with him, wouldn’t that be worth the heartbreak later?”

  “I don’t know, Gretchen. I don’t think I can bear to watch him break your heart,” Carl said.

  “Maybe he won’t break my heart,” she said quietly.

  Carl’s frown deepened and made her heart ache. Pulling Gretchen to him again, he said, “I would never break your heart.”

  “Carl …”

  “I know your reasons, but what I don’t understand is why you’re willing to give this stranger a chance to love you, but you won’t give me one.” His voice was only a whisper, but she heard every word. Unfortunately, she couldn’t give him an answer. Gretchen didn’t think she even knew the answer to his question.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Worth It

  John heard the door open and maneuvered himself up off the couch, hobbling toward Gretchen. “Are you okay?” he called out, still too far from the door to see her.

  “I’m fine,” she said, but the strain in her voice made him limp a little faster.

  John rounded the corner and caught her leaning against the door brushing away tears. He covered the last few feet to her in record time and brought his hand up to her face. “Gretchen, what happened? Are you okay? What did that guy do?”

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine,” she said. She tried to move away from the door, but John’s crutches had her trapped. She settled for turning away from him.

  “Gretchen, you’re not fine,” John said. “What happened?”

  “It’s okay, John. Really.”

  “Who was that guy?” John asked.

  Gretchen sighed in defeat. “He’s my next door neighbor, Carl.”

  “The huge oilfield worker that has a big crush on you, and is very overprotective of you?” John asked.

  “You remember all that, huh?” Gretchen said grimacing.

  “How could I forget?” The fact that there was the equivalent of an angry linebacker who was ready to finish beating the life out of John living next door was pretty hard to forget. “What was he so mad about?”

  “Nothing. I told you I could handle Carl,” she said.

  “That doesn’t look like what happened. If you handled him, why are you the one crying?” She wasn't getting off that easy.

  “How do you know he isn’t crying even worse?” Gretchen asked. Her smile was forced, though, and quivered at the corner.

  “Gretchen …”

  “Just leave it alone, okay? I don’t want to talk about it right now.” She pushed by his crutch quickly and slipped away from him. He had to double-time it to keep up with her, but he wasn't about to let her sneak away like that.

  “He was mad about me, right?” John asked. Gretchen didn’t say anything. “Gretchen, if me being here ...” He didn’t get a chance to finish.

  “Don’t even say it, John. You’re not leaving,” she said forcefully. Then she blushed with just as much force. “I mean, you can leave if you want to, I’m not keeping you captive here or anything. I just mean that you don’t have to leave because of what Carl thinks.”

  John started to say something but Gretchen cut him off again.

  “And that is the last we’re going to say on the topic, okay?” It wasn't a question. John nodded and followed her to the kitchen.

  Sitting down at the table, John watched her pull a pair of cubed steaks out of the fridge and set them on a large cutting board. Pulling a square hammer looking thing out of her utensil caddy, she surprised John when she start whacking the meat with gusto. The hammer fell again and again. The sound started reverberating in his head, making it throb. John’s vision went dark and he could suddenly feel blows landing on his skin.

  “I think you’ll like Swiss steak,” Gretchen said, banishing the bizarre pain as quickly as it had come. “It’s one of my favorites, and one of the few things I can actually make.”

  “I can’t wait,” he said weakly.

  Gretchen looked over at him, looking worried. “You must be exhausted by now. Why don’t you go sit down in the living room and rest? I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

  Gretchen’s couch was incredibly comfortable, but John didn’t want to go. “That’s all right. I want to see how you make Swiss steak.”

  She looked as though she were going to argue with him. Instead, she nodded and put the steaks into a large stew pot, pouring in tomatoes and various spices. Then she was done. She turned the stove on and went to sit with John at the table.

  “What did you think of the interview?” she asked.

  “It went okay, I guess. That reporter was a little over the top.” Everything about her was just too caring and compassionate. It felt very fake.

  “Yeah, she was,” Gretchen said. Frowning down at the table, John felt like he hadn’t given her the right response.

  Something about the interview was bothering Gretchen. Or maybe she was still upset about Angry Carl storming over after the TV crew left. John’s own thoughts suddenly meshed together and came up with a new idea. Maybe she was upset about both. Carl had come over right after the interview, looking ready to knock over a house. Something someone said in the interview upset him, which then upset Gretchen. What was it?

  Most of it was just facts, nothing to get angry about. Then John remembered the chipper newswoman signing off as she talked about fairytales. She had been talking about John and Gretchen. John hadn’t been listening much by that point, but he remembered those words, thinking them intriguing and inappropriate at the same time. With the bustle of the news crew leaving right after that, he had almost completely forgotten about her comment. Adding up Carl and Gretchen’s tears, John felt reasonably sure he’d discovered the root of what was bothering them both.

  “What Melinda said at the end of the interview…”

  That was all Gretchen needed. A clouded mixture of hope, anger, and sadness burst onto her face. “What was she thinking, saying that?” Gretchen exploded. “She had no right to make assumptions about our situation. And she said it on live TV! What was she thinking?”

  Picking his words very carefully, John said, “So you thought it was inappropriate, too?”

  “Of course I did! She has no idea what kind of relationship we have,” Gretchen said, “and neither does anyone else.”

  John had obviously hit the right mark. The fairytale comment had gotten under Carl’s skin. The next question was why Gretchen was so upset about it. Was she angry the reporter’s attempt to intrigue her audience had led to her argument with Carl, or was she mad Melinda had inferred something she didn’t see at all. John had to choose his next words even more carefully.

  “Do you know what kind of relationship we have?” he asked.

  Gretchen’s head swiveled around to meet John’s. Maybe he didn’t choose carefully enough. Her shoul
ders suddenly released their tension and her face softened. “No, I don’t,” she said. “Do you?”

  “Me? No, I have no idea.” John smiled and so did Gretchen. “Is that really such a bad thing, not knowing?” he asked.

  Sighing, Gretchen rubbed her hands together. “I don’t think so, but …”

  “Then what does it matter?” John asked. Her frown said it did matter. “Is that what you and Carl where arguing about?”

  She hesitated. There wasn’t any real reason she should trust John enough to open up to him, but she did. “He thinks it dangerous for me to let our relationship go any further than it already has.”

  John’s own fears of who he really was and whether or not he was a good person had been banging around his mind since he woke up. He wondered if Carl saw something in him that he didn’t. Did he really believe John would hurt her? “And why would that be dangerous?” John asked

  “Because he thinks you’ll break my heart,” Gretchen said.

  “What?” John hadn’t been expecting that.

  “If you remember everything, or if your family finds you, you’ll leave.”

  And crush her.

  “But, I think it might still be worth it,” Gretchen said quietly.

  Looking up at her, John didn’t know what to say. What was she saying exactly? Did she want more than the friendship they already had? John would be lying if he denied thinking the same thing a million times since waking up, but was that what she really wanted? John wasn’t sure himself that it was worth the risk. For John, yes. He would take every moment with Gretchen he could, and if it ended with him having to leave her behind, he would treasure every moment, even through the pain he knew he would feel.

  Was John willing to put Gretchen through that? She had already done so much for him, and it seemed as though all he could give her in return was inconvenience and hurt. Holding back meant denying her the happiness he was sure they could have together. Was it even his choice?

  “Are you going to say something?” Gretchen asked.