Forget Me (Hampton Harbor)

by Jess Petosa

  "No thanks." My voice is trembling, and I sound wounded. Will hears it too and more pity fills his expression.

  "Don't." I hold up my hand. "Don't pity me. I get it, I do."

  I close my eyes and it takes effort to force back the tears that are welling along the rim. When I open them Will hasn't moved.

  "Goodnight, Will. Thanks for dinner." I turn and start the short walk to the cafe. The restaurant we ate in was closer to the cafe than the boating company, and I can already see Charles’ solar lanterns swinging in the breeze.

  "Jane!" Will calls after me. I feel his grip on my arm and I spin around. "Wait..."

  "That's not my name." I pull my arm from his grip and back away. "I don't know who Jane is."

  The boardwalk crowd is more concentrated here, and several people stop to stare at us. I turn and start my walk again, and this time Will doesn't follow me. I'm right, I realize. I don't know who Jane is. Jane is a girl who thought she could start over. She thought she could heal with time. Jane is a girl who was stuck in a dream, living with a nice old couple and working at the cafe on the bay. Jane was naive and hopeful. No, I don't know who this Jane is. She definitely isn't me.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I know that Charles and Marie are both at the cafe tonight, and I want to run inside and into Marie’s arms. Instead I head up the ramp beside the cafe, and look for the nearest bus stop. The buses run until midnight, taking tourists to and from park locales, and to and from Bed & Breakfasts and inns. I know that I can get one to drop me off at home. Marie told me it was a last resort if I happen to get stranded. Of course, I think I can remember how to drive, after watching Amy and Marie do it, but if I had a driver’s license, it slipped into the ocean, along with my memories.

  It costs me two dollars to get home, and I pay with the tips I shoved into my purse before my date. The bus drops me off at the end of the drive, and I start the long walk back to the house. Thankfully, daylight is still hanging on so the path is easy to see. Charles has more lanterns here, hanging from a tree every few feet, but the darkness behind it would overwhelm me if it were deep into the night and pitch black out. I imagine it as I do my mind. There is a thin, lit path of memories that I’m walking down, and the rest is just blank.

  "Thursday is practically the weekend here," Charles told me this morning, so I know that the cafe will be open until Midnight. He said on the weekends they stay almost until closing, making sure the customers are satisfied. Knowing this I feel better not immediately retreating to my room. Marie gave me a house key yesterday, so I let myself into the house and hurry upstairs to change my clothes. I throw my dress on the closet floor, not sure if I ever want to wear it again. I pull on black yoga pants, a lightweight sweatshirt, and then sweep my hair back into a ponytail.

  I gather one of Marie's books off the dresser and wander out to the back patio. I'm hoping that getting lost in a book might help lift the heavy weight sitting on my chest, but I'm not exactly optimistic.

  I fell asleep before Charles and Marie came home, and in the morning, we are all silent at breakfast. I am having a hard time deciding whether or not Marie realizes I came home early, or if she thinks I snuck in during the early hours of the morning. We eat breakfast in silence and I head up to shower. Amy explained to me that the cafe is the busiest during the breakfast hours, so the waitresses that have been there the longest get those shifts first. Therefore my schedule is all lunch and dinner shifts, and currently Shelley is scheduling me for three to four a week. I don't mind that I'll be busy. Right now, I need it.

  I ask Charles to take me into town early, and he obliges. He says he has some items to get at the hardware store, and I wonder if he is just making conversation. I wander down Hampton Harbor’s main street for the first time since the accident. I haven't had time before now, and last night I had been so preoccupied with Will, I hadn't taken time to really look around. Maybe that had been in the plans for the rest of the evening. We might have walked around and window-shopped. We might have gotten ice cream and then sat by the bay, people watching until the day grew dark.

  I shake thoughts of Will from my mind and continue to walk.

  I pass a few clothing boutiques and pick out a few other restaurants that seem interesting. There is a seafood place with a giant lobster hanging from the roof, and a restaurant with lights along the outside that are fashioned after burgers. It is ten o'clock, and many of the shops are just starting to open their doors. Owners and employees prop the doors open with rocks or other knick-knacks, and I find myself smiling at the cheerfulness of this small town. I come upon an old bookstore and for some reason I feel drawn inside. The space is cramped, and every spare inch is covered with shelves of books.

  I pass by the non-fiction section, and a few fiction sections: Westerns, Historical, and Science Fiction. There is an old man huddled over a cardboard box at the checkout counter and I doubt he even notices me. A staircase in the middle of the store leads down, and the sign reads CHILDREN, YOUNG ADULT, AND RESTROOMS. I follow the stairs and find the lower level to be similar to the first. The store is built into a hill, so there are full-length windows in the back of the room that overlook the bay. I run my fingers over a few of the book bindings, feeling a sense of familiarity that I haven't felt since the accident, and a happiness I haven't felt since before my talk with Will.

  "Back already?" The old man from upstairs appears around the corner.

  I step toward him. "I've been here before?"

  He smiles and nods his head. "About two weeks ago. A Sunday, I think. You bought a few books from upstairs."

  "Do you remember what I bought?" I ask. The old man’s smile fades.

  "Maybe it wasn't you." He backtracks.

  My eyes are wide and I hold my hands out in front of me. I must look insane.

  "Sorry," I say quickly. "I should go."

  I brush past him and hurry back up the stairs. I exit through the front door, bursting back onto the sunny street. I decide to head back to the cafe early and maybe eat a small snack before my shift starts. It is strange to meet someone who knows me from before the accident. The man at the bookstore is the first, and probably not the last. Maybe I was in some of these other stores that night, and I'm sure a little prying might get me some answers.

  When I get to the cafe, Amy is counting up tips from her breakfast shift, and getting a new order pad ready for lunch.

  "Hey girl," she says to me. "Ready for a busy day? A few tour busses just pulled into town so I think we'll do well tip wise."

  I just nod, hoping that she is right. If I am busy, the day will fly by and I'll barely have time to think of anything except burgers, sandwiches, lobster, and drinks.

  Amy's prediction turns out to be correct, and we are swamped from lunch on. There is no break in between to stop and eat, but I do manage to shove a roll down my throat while waiting for the cooks to finish up a large order. The tourists are from Europe, and they are on a bus tour of the East Coast, visiting different national parks. As I work, I listen to their conversations, enjoying their accents.

  "I totally forgot to ask you about your date last night." Amy finds me in the kitchen as I'm pulling freshly chopped lettuce from the walk-in cooler. "I was going to ask Will but he is looking moody today."

  "It went..." I pause. "What do you mean he is looking moody?"

  Amy is working a double and hasn't had so much as a chance to step outside the cafe.

  "Is he here?" I whisper yell the question, pulling Amy into the cooler with me.

  "Are we hiding?" she asks with a laugh in her voice. "The guests can't really even see us in the kitchen."

  I run my hands over my hair. "Right, sorry. Um, the date didn't go well. At all."

  "Then why is he sitting in your section?" Amy asks.

  I frown. "To torment me? I don't know."

  "Oh my god, Jane, do you have a stalker? I never would have pinned Will Davey to be the type." Amy giggles and I push past her to open the door.


  "Please take his table for me?" I beg her as I step back into the warm kitchen.

  Amy sighs and rolls her eyes. "Okay, but only because he is dreamy. And you can take table six for me. It’s a high maintenance old couple, so you're welcome in advance."

  "Thank you," I say with as much sincerity as I can muster. I'd take the old couple ten times over right now.

  I do my best not to look in Will's direction the entire time he is in for dinner. Sometimes I steal a glance when I know that I will see the back of his head, and the times that I need to walk directly past his booth, I keep my eyes focused on my tray. At one point he leans out of the booth, and I think that he’s going to grab my apron, but he bends down to pick up a napkin instead.

  Even though I’m still busy, the minutes are creeping by slowly. It has been thirty-two minutes since Amy told me that Will was here, and I am anxiously waiting for him to leave. I haven't taken a deep breath, nor have I had a clear thought. I deliver wrong meals to two of my tables, and give the high-maintenance old couple regular coffee instead of decaf. I'm angry, sad, and happy all at the same time.

  Angry that he had the nerve to come here.

  Sad that he had to make me see him after what he said to me last night.

  Happy that he looks just as miserable as I feel.

  Eight long minutes later, Will leaves money on the table and is gone. I watch his back until it disappears out of my view, and take my first deep breath in forty minutes. I lean against the counter and relax my shoulders, which feel sore from how tense I’ve been.

  "That was close." Amy leans up beside me. "That must have been one bad date."

  "I can't even talk about it," I tell her truthfully. Because talking about it would mean having to tell her my secret too, and then I would probably have one more person disappointed in me.

  CHAPTER NINE

  We work late tonight. It’s almost midnight by the time all of the guests leave and our sections are clear.

  "I need to run to the convenience store real quick and then I'll be back to pick you up," Amy yells to me as she is running out the back door.

  I slip through the front door of the cafe and close my eyes as the sea breeze hits my face. The night has cooled a little, and I shiver, running my hands along my arms as if that might stop the chill. I follow the lanterns onto the dock, letting my fingers graze over one as I pass.

  I like to think that they light the way home. To let her know that if she ever does want to come back, we are here waiting for her.

  I wonder if somewhere someone has lanterns lit for me. Am I welcome home whenever, wherever I may come from? I stare out over the water for a few minutes, which is calmer than it has been in awhile. I hear the clinking sound of the bells on the buoys and voices from the boardwalk.

  "That was some great avoiding you did tonight. Really.”

  I close my eyes and clench my fists, exhaling slowly. Finally, I turn around and slip my hands into the pockets of my shorts. Will is standing on the dock, about halfway down. His hands are shoved into his own pockets, and a gray shirt is stretched across his upper body.

  "You shouldn't have come," I tell him. "To dinner tonight, or here."

  "Jane," he says slowly, running a hand through his hair.

  "Don't call me that. We both know the name is a lie." My tone sounds more callous than I mean it to.

  "It's who you were when I met you, and whether you like it or not, it’s who you are now." He takes a step toward me and I realize that I cannot step away unless I want to take a swim. "It’s also the girl I would like to get to know."

  "So now you want to get to know me, huh?"

  "I never said I didn't want to get to know you," he points out. "I just said we shouldn't date, and then you took off down the dock."

  I can feel my cheeks turning pink, and thankfully even the light from the lanterns isn't enough to reveal that to Will.

  "Don't remind me," I say.

  "Look, I know that you’re most likely really confused. I don't know how you’re handling all of this, but I want to help." He takes another step toward me.

  "Help?" I say with a humorless laugh. "Help me how? I don't want to know who I am, not yet."

  "I can be your friend," he says.

  "Just friends," I say to myself but I know he hears me. "It's not me it's you, right?"

  "Jane," he says my name again, but with frustration this time.

  "Look Will." Now I’m the one who steps forward. "I appreciate the offer, I do. But now that I've been honest with you about my situation, I feel like I can continue to do so in other areas. I like you Will, a lot. I felt a connection from the moment you stepped into the cafe, and it just grew stronger when we went out last night. There is no way I can just be your friend. So I'm sorry if you see all of this differently, but I can't do what you’re asking."

  I brush past him and hurry toward the cafe. I’m sure that Amy will be back any minute. It feels good to be open and honest, and somehow I don't feel embarrassed or ashamed like I thought I might. I’m almost across the boardwalk when Will grabs my arm and spins me around.

  "I can't believe I’m going to do this,” he says.

  I don't have time to ask him what he is going to do before he leans down and brushes my lips with a kiss. It is gentle, and quick, and I'm not even sure I kiss him back. He pulls back slightly and I turn to stone, incapable of movement. I'm staring at his lips, and my own are parted slightly. My heart is beating fast in my chest, and by the swiftness in Will's breathing, I gather that his is as well.

  He watches me, maybe waiting to see if I react. When I do nothing, he steps closer. His hand comes up to cup the back of my neck, and he pulls me closer, his lips brushing mine again. This kiss isn't full of hesitation or wonder. Instead it is deep and meaningful, full of longing and desire. I place my hands on his waist and kiss him back, my lips parting against his. There is a fire running down my arms and legs, setting my nerves ablaze. The fire settles low in my belly, and I lean closer to Will.

  "Jane!" Amy calls from the side of the cafe.

  Will and I jump apart quickly, as though we've been caught doing something wrong. I spin toward the side of the building just as Amy appears around the corner.

  "There you are, I thought maybe you tried to walk..." her words trail right off the dock and into the water. She looks at Will, and then back at me, repeating the motion several times. I’m hoping we look like we've just been talking, and nothing else. Although, from the way Will dug his hands into my hair, I'm sure my ponytail is askew.

  "Do you still need that ride home?" In the dim lantern light, I can see her eyes narrow. She’s trying to assess the situation.

  Suddenly the discomfort of the night falls over me. Everything Will said. Everything I said. The heated kiss.

  "Yes," I say quickly, before Will can give a different answer.

  I turn back to him and bite my lip, "I'll, um, see you later I guess."

  Will's posture is rigid and his hands are back in his pockets. I wonder if he’s debating on whether or not the kiss was a good idea, or maybe he’s wondering why I’m making excuses to run.

  One corner of his mouth pulls up into a crooked smile. "See you tomorrow," he says.

  I think I’m in the clear until I get into the passenger side of Amy's car.

  "You were totally making out back there, weren't you?" she practically yells the words at me.

  "Well, it just sort of happened," I respond. I lean forward and put my head in my hands, groaning. "Things are seriously messed up."

  As usual, Charles and Marie are in bed when I get home, and I almost feel bad that I am relieved. We are on such opposite schedules that I don't even need to worry about releasing my problems on them. I shower quickly and fall into bed with wet hair, rolling around under the covers as I replay the kiss in my mind, over and over again. I don't know how, but I eventually manage to urge the kiss out of my thoughts and fall asleep.

  Even though it is Saturday, and we will
be busy, I’m only working the dinner shift at the cafe tonight. That means that I have until two in the afternoon before I even need to think about getting ready. I wake up mid-morning and head downstairs. There is a note on the kitchen table from Charles and Marie.

  Jane,

  Charles and I had to drive into Bangor for an appointment. We'll stop by the cafe tonight to say hi. I can't wait to hear about your date!

  Love, Marie

  I groan. Marie hasn't heard about my date. I drop the letter onto the table and move around the kitchen, pouring myself a bowl of cereal and grabbing a glass of orange juice. When I’m done I rinse off my dishes and put them into the dishwasher. I could catch a bus into town and do some more shop exploring, but the idea doesn't excite me as much as it did yesterday. I can tell by looking out the window that it is going to be a nice day, and probably a hot one at that. I run upstairs to my room and dig my bathing suit out of a drawer. It is a simple, black bikini, one I found in my black bag. I lather on some sunscreen, grab my sunglasses, and head back downstairs.