by Moen, Jenni
“Thomas, my boyfriend of three years, had broken up with me two weeks before. Prom was coming up in a few weeks, and we’d already been nominated for king and queen. It was stupid, but I’d been really upset because we wouldn’t be going together. He’d already asked Whitney Barnaby. It wasn’t like I couldn’t get a date or anything ... but the fact that we weren’t together any more had me totally jacked up. I wasn’t myself.”
I remembered high school Allie and I wasn’t sure that that was a bad thing. I didn’t say that though.
“Before I could get home, the weather started turning bad. The sky got really dark, and it started sprinkling. I had a convertible, and the top was down. I told myself to stop and put the top up. I wonder now if I had, if everything would have turned out differently. Maybe I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry.”
“But I decided not to stop. Not even for stop signs. I was oblivious to everything except getting home so I could change. I just wanted to meet my friends.”
“You see, I’d talked to my best friend just before I’d gotten in the car. She was already on Greenville. All week, she’d been telling me that Saturday was my chance to find someone new ... someone older ... someone who would make Thomas jealous. The plan was that I would either take the new guy to the prom or Thomas would be so overwrought with jealousy that he’d drop Whitney Barnaby like a bad habit, and then we’d go together as originally planned.”
“Anyway, I guess she and a few of our other friends were at the Goose, trying out their new fake IDs. They’d met a group of guys at the bar, and she’d called to tell me that I had to get up there because she had the perfect guy for me ... someone who’d gone to school with us a few years before. They were tired of the Goose though, and they were moving on. I was supposed to wait for her call so that I’d know where to meet them.”
All of a sudden, I felt like she was talking through a tin can. Her words had become long and drawn out and echoed around my head. I could feel my body temperature rise as I remembered that day, too.
She looked at me hard, and I wondered what she saw. I hoped that she didn’t see anything ... that I was sufficiently masking my thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “None of this is important. I know you don’t care about any of this.”
She couldn’t have been more wrong. I did care. I spoke for the first time since she’d started her story. “What did you say the name of your friend was?” I asked.
“I don’t think I did. Her name was ... is ... Brittany.”
“You know, it’s funny,” she said. “I hadn’t seen her in years and then out of nowhere I ran into her a few months ago at Starbucks in the bottom of my building. We used to be inseparable. I mean, we were friends practically from birth. We used to finish each other’s sentences. But, when I saw her back in June, I couldn’t even talk to her. Isn’t it ironic how someone so important in your life at one moment can mean so little at another? People change, I guess.”
She had no idea how funny irony could be. “Okay, so her name was Brittany,” I said, wanting her to go on. Now I knew why that girl had looked familiar.
“Right. So I was waiting for Brittany to call to tell me where to go to meet them.”
She paused and took a sip of her drink. “I was distracted. I wasn’t focusing on driving. I was thinking about Brittany and Thomas and this new guy I didn’t even know. And I was worried about the rain. I’d always been afraid of tornadoes, and it was tornado season. You know ... you’re from Dallas, too. It wasn’t likely that we were going to get hit by a tornado, but I’ve always been petrified of them.”
I nodded. Yeah, sure. Tornadoes were no joke.
“I was driving too fast, and I missed a stop sign. I had no excuse. I’d driven down that same road, twice a day for a year and a half. But somehow I missed it. And then my phone rang. Or maybe my phone rang and then I missed the stop sign. I’m not sure. It all happened so fast. I’ve remembered a lot in the past two weeks, but it’s all still kind of blurry. I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not.”
Her words hit me hard. If it hadn’t been for me, she wouldn’t have remembered any of this. I still wasn’t sure if her memory coming back was a good thing or a bad thing.
“It’s okay, Allie. You don’t have to remember everything.”
“I want to. I owe it to you. I owe it to Joy.”
I wanted to hug her and kiss her and slap her all at the same time. Never had anyone’s words given me so much relief while ripping my insides out. Instead of doing any of those things, I looked for the appropriate words to respond to her admission. “I’m sure now that you have pieces of it, it will eventually all come back.”
She smiled at me. “Yeah, I think that’s another question for Dr. Phil.”
I smiled back. “Baby, we’re so messed up. He’s going to have to devote an entire week of shows to us.”
“No joke,” she said shaking her head.
The smile left her face and her expression darkened. She was ready to take on the hard stuff.
“My phone rang, and I thought it was Brittany. I wanted to answer it, but my phone was in my purse, which was on the floor on the passenger side. I reached over and tried to grab it, but the strap was hung up on something under the seat. I yanked on it, but it wouldn’t budge. Finally, I leaned all the way over and tried to dig for it.”
“I never answered it, and it wasn’t even her. I remember now. I didn’t recognize the number. In my nightmare, I could hear that phone ringing over and over. I could feel the car hopping over the curb. I could even see the tree coming at me. But, until I watched your version of it, I never saw Joy. It was just me and that tree and everything that came later.”
“I’m sorry, Adam. I don’t know how to explain how I feel about it ... how sorry I am .... But I’m not just sorry for what happened that day. I’m also sorry for the past 10 years. Every day, you and your family had to live without her, and I didn’t even know that I’d taken her from you. But I will think of her every day for the rest of my life.”
She looked at her hands folded in her lap, and I followed her gaze. What I saw knocked the air out of my lungs. I couldn’t believe that I’d missed it the other night at the hospital. The sleeve of her dress must have covered it. If she’d chosen that dress for that reason, she wasn’t hiding it now.
I reached over and brushed my finger lightly over the etched skin on the underside of her wrist. It was similar to the one on my chest except that it said ‘Remembering Joy.’ And instead of my bold black, hers was written in the lightest shade of pink. In fact, it was so light it almost looked like a scar ... like it belonged there.
“Allie, Allie, Allie ... what did you do?” I asked in disbelief. “When?”
She looked down at the pink lettering and smiled. “When I was in Florida. I finally thought of something that I would want on my body forever.” Her words were heavy on my heart. She’d done it weeks ago, back when she’d believed that there was no way that we could ever be together. She hadn’t done it for me. She’d done it for Joy.
“She loved pink,” I said quietly.
“I thought she might,” she said with a small, timid smile. “Adam, I’ll never be able to change what happened. And believe me, I would if I could. I’d change places with her in a heartbeat. But I want you to know that I’ll never deny her again. I’m not afraid of remembering anymore. I want to remember her every day. I owe it to her. And to you. ”
I spun both of us around on our stools so that we were facing each other with her knees tucked in between mine. I grabbed the sides of her face so that she couldn’t look away from me if she tried.
“I’m not asking you to change what happened. You’re right, Allie, you can’t. I’ve spent 10 years trying to figure out how to go back in time. Do you know all the times I’ve wondered what would have happened if I’d just stayed home with her that afternoon? It was the day after her birthday. I should have been there, helping her figure out how to ride that damn bike
without the training wheels. But I wasn’t. And I can’t change what happened any more than you can. I don’t know why things happen they way do, but I don’t want to live the rest of my life asking questions that don’t have answers. I can’t live like that any more.”
I looked into her blue eyes and thought about kissing that mouth of hers. “Do you know what I want? I want to be with you. Just you and me. Today, tomorrow, and forever. Can you live with that?”
“Yes,” she said simply.
“Then we’re done here,” I said. I stuck my hand in the air for the second time and motioned to the bartender.
“We need our tab,” I said, without ever taking my eyes off of her.
_________________________
“Forever Texas?” she said looking at my shirt just as she curled into me on the couch.
Just like Texas, Allie was my home now. I knew no matter what happened my soul would always be trying to find a way back to her. But I didn’t say that. I had high hopes for tonight.”
“I see that. You know,” she said coyly. “I’m going to get you a new shirt tomorrow. One that says, ‘I’m with her’ with an arrow.”
I groaned. “I love you, babe, but you’ll never get me to wear that.”
She giggled and pressed up against me. “Thanks for coming to my place instead of yours. I’ve always felt more comfortable in your apartment than I should, and now I know why. It just feels tainted now.”
“I understand,” I said. I’d thought that for years. The walls were painted with blood money as far as I was concerned. When I’d originally moved there with my mother, I had only been able to stand it because I thought getting her out of Dallas was the only way to save her from her memories. Over time, I’d become numb to my surroundings, but, even now, I was anxious to move out and move on. I didn’t want to get into any of this tonight though.
“So we’re all good then?”
“We’re all good,” I answered even though neither of us had been completely honest tonight.
She hadn’t said anything about Lizzie wanting her to adopt the baby. At one point, I’d been enough to make her happy, but Lizzie had changed that. She wouldn’t be content now with just me. And, even though I’d told her that I would never lie to her again, I hadn’t been completely honest with her either. A good attorney, like the one in front of me, might argue that I hadn’t actually lied. However, a lie of omission is still a lie.
This was another subject that I wasn’t going to dwell on tonight, though. As I ran my arm around her and squeezed her even tighter against me, I decided that I was done talking for the night. Somehow, some way ... no matter what happened ... we would find common ground. I loved her. She loved me. And that would be enough.
I knew one thing though ... as crazy and fucked up ... and sort of awesome ... as our story was, I would never, ever make another movie about us.
My life with Allie was ours alone, and I had no desire to share her.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, I have to acknowledge my husband who only barely tolerates my tendency for jumping into new hobbies and projects. When I first said that I wanted to write a book, he rolled his eyes at me and said, “Here we go again.” But, after he got on board, his encouragement and support never waned. I couldn’t write about what I call “hard love” without his “easy love.”
The most heartiest of heartfelt thanks to Elizabeth. Without her, this book would have never happened. That’s no lie. She led or maybe misled me into believing that I could do this and then happily spent hours talking me through it. Those countless mornings spent drinking coffee in my kitchen while we worked through plot holes and discussed fictional characters like they were real will always reign supreme for me.
I have to give a shout out to my “editors.” Chelsea and Jill: I cannot tell you how much I appreciated your willingness to dive into drafts riddled with typos and more than a few incoherent thoughts. Your suggestions were brilliant, and you will find each and every one in the final draft.
Jackie, thank you for taking on the copy editing job at the eleventh hour and for doing such a bang-up job. I learned a lot just by reviewing your edits, and I feel confident in saying that I am now cured of my willy nilly use of commas. (Actually, I’m probably not cured at all, and I will need you again for the second book.)
A special thank you to my beta readers: Emily, Jake, Joanna, and Kysa. It is only because of your feedback and enthusiasm that I will be able to push this baby out of the nest. Though not an actual beta reader, I would also like to direct a special thank you to Wendy for teaching me to live by my own terms and not worry about what anyone else might think about it. You can build it, and they may or may not come. You can write it, and they may or may not read it. In the end, the only thing that matters is that I went for it.
Finally, a very special thank you to my parents who though they would disagree with 99 percent of the content of this book … on principle alone … are an endless source of encouragement. “I don’t know why you need to write about that stuff, but I’m all in,” my dad said. I promise that, at some point in the near future, I will provide you with a clean PG-13 version of the book. The good news is that it will be a much quicker read than this one.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jenni Moen lives in her hometown in Oklahoma with her husband and three crazy, exuberant kids that have the potential to burn the house down at any time. She has been married to the same incredibly handsome specimen of testosterone for over 15 years.
When she's not chauffeuring kids, performing her mom duties as a short order cook, and blogging about the evils of sugar, she hammers away at her keyboard at her big girl job as a patent attorney. While vodka and exercise have provided some relief from the daily grind, it is reading ... and now writing ... that are her true escapes.
www.jennimoen.com