by Jess Petosa
"Why didn't you say anything?" I ask.
Marie smiles slightly. "Charles thinks it’s best when situations like these clear up on their own. There is likely to be more damage if you are pressured to recall your memories too soon."
"I just don't understand." A tear slips down my cheek and I brush it away. "I remember small details. I know what boats are, and what a restaurant is. I understand dates, and shopping, and humor, and fun. I feel like I've been here before, but I can't remember. I don't even recognize my own face when I look in the mirror. How does any of this make sense?"
The tears are rolling down my cheeks faster now, and I give up trying to brush them away.
Marie wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a tight hug.
"I don't have any answers for you sweetheart. I wish I did," she says. “We can help you find your family if you want.”
I shake my head against her shoulder. “I’m just not ready yet.”
“Okay,” she whispers into my hair.
I pull away from Marie and wipe the rest of my tears. "What should I do about Will?"
"I think you should go," she answers. "I think you should give him a chance. And if you think you'd like to see him past tonight, you should tell him what’s happened to you."
"How do I explain this to him though?" I ask.
"He'll understand," Marie tells me. "I've known Will a very, very long time. It’s better that you do it now, rather then him finding out the hard way."
"Now I have another problem," I say with a small smile. "What should I wear?"
Marie pushes herself out of her chair. "Let's go pick something out."
"Are you sure this isn't too dressy?" I ask, looking at myself in Marie's full-length mirror.
"Summer dresses can really be worn for any occasion. And I think you look lovely," Marie says, playing with my hair.
I have tried to avoid mirrors when I can, but I can't seem to stop staring at myself right now. Marie has picked out a simple red cotton dress that we found at the Gap. It isn't exactly fancy, but it looks nice enough for a dinner out. Marie has curled my hair at the ends, and it’s pushed over my shoulders. I spend almost every waking minute either at the cafe or out in the backyard, and therefore my hair is usually up in a ponytail. It’s strange to see my hair down. The girl in the mirror actually looks pretty. Marie has covered my face with light make-up and even though I feel strange with it on, it seems normal.
"You look beautiful, Jane," Marie says. She stands beside me, with her hands clasped together in front of her lips. Her eyes glisten with a hint of tears, and I feel a surge in my own emotions. I'm lucky, having fallen into the home of such a wonderful couple. I could have woken up from my accident in a much different place, with people who didn't care and just wanted to be rid of me. Charles and Marie are giving my mind time to heal, which I know is exactly what I need.
"We better get going. I should get you down to the marina before you’re late." Marie grabs my hand and pulls me out of her room and down the stairs. We arrive at Davey & Sons Boating with ten minutes to spare, and it isn’t until we pull into the parking lot that I really start to feel nervous.
"Maybe I should cancel," I say.
"Oh stop it," Marie says. "I'm sure you'll have a great time."
"I don't remember what it's like to date, Marie," I say. "This might as well be my first date ever."
"I think you'll find that it will all come back to you, just like everything else you’ve managed to do while you’ve been with us." She motions to the door and I sigh, unlocking it and climbing out of the car. I peek my head back into the car.
"Should I go into the main office again?" I ask.
"Head down to the marina. Will doesn't stray far from the water," she says with a wink.
I wave goodbye and hurry to the ramp that leads down to the boardwalk. Just as Marie said, I find Will leaning on the wood railing that separates the dock from the bay. He is looking out over the water, his back straight and his hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans. These jeans are much nicer than the pair he wore earlier. His shirt is black, with short sleeves, and I know that when he turns around the butterflies that have taken up camp in my stomach will wake-up. Even now I feel the tips of their wings fluttering.
For a moment I watch him, with the breeze blowing his hair back from his face. I walk forward until I reach his side, looking out over the water with him. The sea breeze picks up my hair and blows it behind me.
"It's beautiful here," I say. Not to Will in particular, I am just sharing a thought I think several times a day.
"I've lived here my whole life," Will responds. "And I never stop thinking that."
He turns to face me and I keep my eyes on the water. The butterflies are restless, and I know that he is looking me over. An uneasy feeling moves over me, and I freeze. I can't turn and walk away now. I need to face this head on, and I need to do it with a confidence that shows that I want to be here.
My eyes finally find his. "So since you’ve already picked out what I’m buying you for dessert, does that mean I get to pick what you are buying me for dinner?"
Will smiles. "That depends. What are you picking?"
I feign deep thought, using one finger to tap my chin. I've tried several types of food since my accident, and none stick out in my mind. There is one food that pops into my head, one I haven't eaten here, but at the moment, it sounds good.
"I could really use some cheese ravioli," I finally say.
Will's face lights up and he offers me his arm. "I have that one covered."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Will walks me to a small Italian restaurant. There is a red neon sign hanging over the door that reads Amore Della Baia, and a pretty hostess greets us in the entryway.
"Hey Will," she says. "Do you want your usual table?"
He nods and the hostess leads us to a booth in the back corner. The walls are all exposed brick, and there are fake grape vines hanging from the ceiling. The room is lit by large bulbs on wire strung across the room, and each table has a small lantern attached to the wall. Faint Italian music plays in the background.
"Best cheese ravioli in the state." He points to a small blurb in the menu.
"I feel like you’re cheating on the Grace Cafe," I say as I slip into one side of the booth. "And here I thought we were the only restaurant you frequented."
"I like to share the love," he responds.
He sits across from me, his forearms on the table and his hands clasped together.
"So tell me about yourself, William Davey." I decide to beat him to the first date question and answer period. Marie and I talked about this while I was getting ready, and we came up with some vague answers that I can give to popular questions. I’m afraid that I might slip and tell my secret, or feel guilted into telling, so I decide to put the spotlight on him.
"What do you want to know?" He splays his hands across the table.
"Everything," I say playfully. "Favorite color, favorite movie, favorite cereal, where did you go to school, what exactly do you do at the boating company?"
Will laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. "You really do want to know everything. At this rate we'll close the place down."
A waitress stops by our table before Will can continue.
"Hey Will," she says. "The usual?"
"Two of the usual please." He motions to me but the waitress barely acknowledges my presence. She turns and disappears into the kitchen.
Will sets his chin on one fist. "Red, Tommy Boy, and Lucky Charms, to start. I think it is only fair if we go back and forth here."
I can handle that. "Green, I don't have a favorite, and Honey Nut Cheerios."
The color of the bay in the morning. I haven't watched a movie since my accident. Honey Nut Cheerios is the only cereal in Charles and Marie's kitchen.
"You don't have a favorite movie? Clearly you've never watched Tommy Boy."
I shake my head. "Doesn't ring a bell."
&nb
sp; Will's mouth pops open and I know that he is exaggerating the expression. "I know what we are doing for our second date."
"That's a little presumptuous," I say. "Besides, date two is me buying you ice cream."
"Fine, date three," he responds. He doesn't give me a chance to retort before he continues answering my questions. "I went to Hampton Harbor High School and graduated with one hundred and fifty other seniors in my class. I attended the University of Southern Maine for four years and graduated with a bachelor degree in Business. I guess this all blends into working for Davey & Sons Boating. I always knew that I would come work for the company, but I wanted to at least experience college and get a degree I could benefit from. In the mornings I work in the office. In the afternoons I head out to the marina, helping to service the boats or checking on boats we are boarding for people out of town. Many of our customers only visit for a few weeks each summer, but they still dock their boats year-round."
"Davey & Sons," I start. "Does that mean you have a brother, or brothers?"
Will nods. "My older brother is the lead accountant, and my younger brother is a sophomore at USM, getting his degree in business. We aren't sure if he is going to come work for the company or not, but at least my older brother and I are set to inherit it."
"What are their names?" I ask.
I've gone off the assigned list of questions but I find that I'm feeling genuine interest about Will's life. What I want to know about him comes to me with ease.
"My older brother is James, named after our father. I'm named after my grandfather, and my youngest brother, Lincoln, well his name is an odd story."
"Tell me!" I urge.
The waitress drops off our waters and neither Will nor I spare her a glance.
Will sits back against the booth and smiles. "Well, my mom wasn't fond enough of her father to use his name for Linc, so when he was born they still didn't have a name picked out. My dad wanted Jeffrey and my mom wanted Christopher so they decided to flip a coin. All my dad had in his pocket at the time was a penny, so they used that. When it hit his hand my dad said, "Abe Lincoln's up" which was his way of saying head's up, and they had an AHA! moment."
"They did not!" I say through a laugh. "So your brother is named after a President."
Will shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest. His smile is so sincere, and contagious. "Crazy, right? Linc is just glad that they didn't go with Abraham, or Abe."
I love the way Will talks about his family, and the way his eyes light up when he does. I can only hope that when my memories return, I have that same joy for my own family. Whoever they are.
"So, your turn." He points at me and put his hands back on the table.
"Wait a minute, we skipped the minute details," I say quickly. I'm not ready to come up with answers just yet. "How old are you? When's your birthday?"
Will raises one eyebrow. "I sense some distraction techniques, Miss. Jane."
I can see our waitress pulling dishes from under the warmers, and I am hoping it is our food.
"Just answer the questions, Mr. William," I retort in a similar tone.
"I'm twenty-four, and my birthday is July fourth, so I guess I'll be twenty-five in just a few weeks."
“July fourth,” I repeat.
The date tickles at my mind.
“Hey, it’s always a celebration and I always have a free fireworks show.”
The waitress arrives at our table and sets our plates down. The ravioli smells amazing and I decide that even if this isn't truly one of my favorite foods, it has to be up there on the list. I haven't even tasted it yet and my mouth is already watering.
"Now is it your turn?" Will asks.
"Yes," I say. "But first I want to taste the best cheese ravioli in the state."
Ten minutes later I've conclude that this truly is the best cheese ravioli I've ever had. Technically, it isn't a lie. I can't remember any other cheese ravioli dishes I've had. Will and I made small talk during the meal, but mainly I chose to stuff my face with pasta.
"I don't think I have room for ice cream." I push my empty plate away and place my hand over my stomach.
Will takes a sip of his water, his eyes locked on mine. "Give it time to digest. You have questions to answer." He puts on a stern face and I cover my smile with a napkin.
"Let's go outside and talk," I tell him. I know the important part of this evening is coming.
Marie prepared me for this, and I realize that she had to have known how much I would like Will. Large butterflies are stirring in my stomach. My skin tingles and my legs feel numb.
How am I going to do this?
"Jane," Will says my name and I look up. The smile is gone from his face, and the laughter gone from his eyes. His expression has morphed into one of concern, and the corners of his mouth are pulled down into a frown. "You don't have to answer the questions if it bothers you."
"It doesn't bother me," I say nervously. "It's all just hard to explain."
"Look," he says with a sigh. "I don't expect you to open up to me on the first date and tell me your entire life story. I tend to get carried away when I talk, and therefore you now know more about me than you probably want to know...."
"No!" I lean forward. "I like hearing about you, Will. Really. I..." I look down at the table. "Look, this will make more sense when we're outside. I promise."
I need to be by the bay. I need my head clear when I say what I need to tell him.
"Okay," is all he says before pulling money from his wallet and setting it on the table.
I guess I'm not the only waitress that gets the no change treatment.
Once we are outside I immediately feel better. It is a little after six, and the sun still has another hour or two before it dips toward the horizon. The sea breeze hits my bare skin and I close my eyes, breathing in the salty scent. As if he knows what I need, Will walks us down to the bay and we find an unoccupied bench on the boardwalk. Most of the tourists in town eat late, and explore the town after dark, but a few people wander past. A young couple rides by on bikes, and a family of five walks past with ice cream.
"Will, this is going to be really hard to say..." I start.
I cross my legs and turn my body, knowing that he deserves this information with my full attention. He turns toward me as well, throwing one arm up over the back of the bench. His fingers brush against my shoulder gently and I ignore the fire working its way across my skin.
"The night of the accident, when you carried me to the car," I grasp at the words running through my mind. Where do I even begin? How much do I say? I take a deep breath. "When I woke up later that night, I was confused and in shock. I didn't know where I was, or who I was, or what day it even was."
Will is watching me with an unsettling intensity, and I fight the urge to look at my hands. Hands that are gripping my dress tightly.
"The thing is, I still don't remember. I don't remember a moment before waking up in Charles and Marie's home. I don't remember you picking me up off of the dock, and I don't remember my accident. I don't even remember coming to Hampton Harbor. I know silly things, like where Maine is on a map, that Abe Lincoln was a President, what yachts are." I throw out random facts. "But I can't tell you one single thing about the person I was before the accident. The person I am."
Will's expression remains solid but something in his eyes shift. I recognize that look and I groan inwardly.
"No one else knows, except Charles and Marie," I tell him. "Once I knew we were going to dinner, I realized it wasn't fair to keep this from you."
"I wish you had told me before our date," he says. I stiffen. The fire goes out and the bufferflies in my stomach slip back to sleep.
Will runs a hand over his eyes. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded." His hand moves to his hair and he looks at me. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Jane." He pauses on my name. My fake name. "I really am. I just... I don't think it's wise to date you when you’re dealing with such a severe issue."
; I'm turning to stone now. I wrap my arms around my middle and hug myself. Will is no longer watching me, instead he is looking out over the bay.
"For all we know you have a boyfriend, or maybe something more serious. You see it, don't you? How unwise it would be to date."
He looks at me and I nod slowly. I feel like a child, and it definitely isn't a feeling I was expecting. His words make sense, and I'm chiding myself for going on this date. I'm disappointed that Marie didn't think of this, and I'm pissed at the stupid loose rope on the dock. I stand from the bench and straighten a wrinkle in my dress.
"Let me give you a ride home," Will jumps up and extends a hand to me.