Brett Barney - Remember Me.txt

by Remember Me

  house. She worked mornings as a part-time accountant for one of the larger businesses in town.

  That gave her the rest of the day to work around her house and enjoy her hobbies while taking

  care of her family.

  Laura had her hair pulled back in a barrette. She did aerobics each day and enjoyed

  working out and playing sports at the local health club. Her interest in exercise had maintained

  her thin waist and youthful figure. The shorts she wore exhibited the firmness and muscle tone of

  her strong legs.

  Margaret respected Laura and looked at her as a role model. Some of Laura’s ambition

  had rubbed off on her daughter, Amy, but she seemed more interested in learning than fitness.

  Amy still enjoyed sports and played tennis and volleyball with her mother, but Margaret felt that

  Laura and she shared the common bond in the extreme desire for fitness and sport.

  Margaret particularly liked how Laura balanced her life. She loved her husband and

  enjoyed spending time with him, but also worked and had a great number of friends she

  socialized with. They often went to lunch together and had friendly competitions in racquetball

  or other sports.

  Margaret hoped that when she reached that point in her life, she maintained as well

  rounded of a lifestyle as Laura. Laura never seemed burned out or depressed. Her attitude

  inspired Margaret. Everyone who knew her, liked her.

  “Do you know what you’re going to study in college?” asked Laura in an interested

  voice.

  “I really enjoy photography, but you have to be pretty good to get a start in it. My dad

  wants me to get something a little more solid than that. He’s probably right, I think I want to do

  the photography as a hobby. So I’ll probably take a variety of courses until I find something I

  think I would enjoy doing for a living.”

  “That’s pretty smart. You can always do your photography on the side and if you’re

  really good at it, maybe make a business out of it.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my dad said.”

  “So what are you doing this summer?” asked Laura. She walked back over to where

  Margaret sat eating and had a seat in the stool across the breakfast bar from her.

  “I’ll probably go visit with my Aunt Kate for a few weeks. They live on the outskirts of

  Harrison.”

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 129

  Laura didn’t say anything in response. Margaret looked up and noticed that she had a

  strange look on her face. She seemed upset and confused at the same time. Margaret thought

  maybe she hadn’t heard of it before.

  “It’s a little bit larger than Deer Hollow,” explained Margaret. “It’s up north about three

  hours away. I’ve gone there every year since I was eight years old to spend some time with my

  relatives. They have a large ranch with horses and cattle. It’s a great town.”

  “I know all about Harrison,” replied Laura, looking back at Margaret with a smile. “I

  grew up there. Well, at least for the first seventeen years of my life. When I got pregnant with

  Amy, I moved here to live with my Aunt, until I had my baby.

  “My parents remained there for about three years before they moved to Ohio. I stayed

  here with my Aunt and got a job to support Amy and myself. I’ve only been back to Harrison

  one time since I had Amy, on her first birthday.”

  “I didn’t know you were from Harrison. Did you go to high school there?” Margaret

  asked, now deeply interested in the conversation.

  “I started my senior year there,” answered Laura, “but when I got pregnant, I couldn’t

  face any of my friends with it. It was completely out of character for me, and Amy’s father didn’t

  want anything to do with me. I finished school here after I had Amy.”

  “Do you still have friends there?” asked Margaret.

  “I had a lot of friends there, but when I started new here, I put them all behind me. I’ve

  never talked with anyone I went to school with there. Even when I went to visit on Amy’s first

  birthday, I hid in my parent’s old house the whole time.”

  “It must have been difficult for you.”

  “Sure it was,” Laura answered with a hint of a smile, “but we all have moments of poor

  judgment and do things we regret. You can’t dwell on it forever. Eventually you have to move

  on. I don’t have any regrets now.”

  Margaret had never heard Laura talk about her past, and she felt nosy for asking

  questions, but she wanted to know more. She had always wondered about the circumstances

  surrounding her friend’s mother, and now Laura seemed to want to tell her.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” Margaret asked hesitantly.

  “Sure, I brought it up.”

  “What happened to the guy?”

  “That was a long time ago, Margaret. I was young and naive, and I fell for a guy who I

  didn’t know that well. I didn’t realize at the time what he was doing. He was the whole package,

  image and everything, and I allowed myself to get wound up in him without stepping back to

  realize what was happening.

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 130

  “I found myself being manipulated by him without even noticing that he was doing it. He

  was a slick one. He played me like a deck of cards, and then left me. When I found out I was

  pregnant, I didn’t want anything to do with him.

  “Learn from my mistakes, Margaret. There’s a lot of people out there just like him. They

  live to use people and get some sense of power out of controlling other people’s lives. While I

  was involved with him, he had complete control of me, even though I thought I held my own

  strings. They keep using people, as long as they get away with it. They don’t ever stop, if they’re

  as good as he was at the game he played. It’s better not to get involved with them, because you

  can’t win. Always step back, and put your feelings aside. Imagine yourself looking at another

  couple, and try to decide if they both love each other. If it is wrong, just leave, you can do better.

  Nobody deserves that.”

  “So you never think about him?”

  “Oh, I still have resentment, but I would never have wanted him to take any role in the

  raising of my child. I love my daughter, and I’ll never regret having her. I would never change

  things, even if I could.

  “Everything you’ve done in your life has led you to where you are right now. I like where

  I am. I just wish I could have gotten here without ever crossing paths with him.”

  “You don’t wish you could get even somehow?”

  “I have faith that someday he’ll get what he deserves. The only way someone like that is

  impacted is if you destroy their self-image. Somebody will come along and use and control him.

  When it’s all over, he’ll see the other side of the fence. Someone will come along who’s better at

  the game he plays than he is. If you play it long enough, the game will destroy you.”

  “Does he still live in Harrison?”

  “I have no idea, Margaret. Like I told you, we all make bad judgments. I didn’t dwell on

  mine. I learned a valuable lesson and didn’t make the same mistake again. I don’t keep track of

  people like that in my life. It’s been a long time since I was in Harrison.”r />
  “Where in Harrison did you live?” asked Margaret

  “My parents’ house was on Hazelwood Road, not far from the high school,” answered

  Laura.

  Margaret’s mind moved at a feverish pace as she realized that her real mother and Laura

  were the same age. It suddenly occurred to Margaret that she might know the woman. She

  concentrated on the notes she had taken about Heather, trying to remember the address of her

  home. Finally, it came to her.

  “Is that anywhere near Brentwood Avenue?” asked Margaret.

  “It’s a few blocks away.”

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 131

  “Do you know the Alexander family, they lived on Brentwood. They had a daughter

  named Heather.”

  “Why do you ask that?” asked Laura, her eyes filled with rage and suspicion. Margaret

  had never seen Laura this upset before.

  “Mrs. Alexander is a friend of my Aunt’s,” proclaimed Margaret, realizing she had hit a

  nerve. She knew nothing about the Alexanders, but knew she needed to verify her story.

  “Heather was your age, I thought you might know her.”

  The expression on Laura’s face returned to her usual cheerful self. Margaret realized she

  had accepted the story as she climbed out of her chair and returned to preparing the cookies.

  “I’m sorry, Margaret, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Laura replied. “I haven’t heard that

  name in years. She used to be my best friend when I lived in Harrison. I haven’t talked to her

  forever. It just caught me off guard when you brought her name up.”

  Margaret breathed a sigh of relief as the tension in Laura’s voice dropped slightly. She

  realized she should drop the entire conversation, but knew she had found somebody who could

  provide her with some answers. She continued to question Laura.

  “So you haven’t seen Heather since you left high school? You don’t keep in touch at all?”

  “Not really,” answered Laura, seemingly calmer now. “She did send a wedding

  announcement to my house when she got married, but I couldn’t make it to the ceremony. That

  was the last I had any sort of communication with her. I just lost track of her.”

  “I remember that she was married,” recollected Margaret. “Did she ever have any kids?”

  Laura remained quiet for a moment, as if in deep thought. She looked up at Margaret,

  determined to remember. Margaret could tell that she kept something else about Heather a secret.

  “Come to think of it,” answered Laura. “I believe my mother mentioned that she did have

  a child about a year and a half younger than Amy. I don’t know about any more than that. My

  parents moved away soon after that.”

  “Who was it that she married again?” asked Margaret. “I always forget.”

  “The boy’s name was Todd Whitmore,” Laura said without glancing up from her cookie

  dough.

  Margaret struggled to remember where she knew the vaguely familiar name. Then she

  remembered the night Amy and she had looked through her father’s files and found the name of

  Amy’s real father. She fought to act as if the name meant nothing to her, but inside her heart

  pounded with disbelief.

  Margaret’s real mother had married Amy’s real father. Margaret looked down at her feet,

  trying to hide her amazement. She suddenly realized why the question about Heather had upset

  Laura so terribly. She started to regret bringing Heather’s name up.

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 132

  “I knew him also,” continued Laura. “I went to school with them both. I lost track of

  what happened to them after my parents moved away. Heather had always pressured me to try

  sex when I didn’t really feel ready for it yet. I always resented that and I guess that in a way I

  blamed her the situation I got myself into, but I shouldn’t really, she was a good friend. In a way,

  I wish I knew how she was doing these days.”

  “Well,” spoke Margaret. “Maybe if I see Mrs. Alexander while I’m visiting my aunt, I

  can find out for you.”

  “Yeah,” Laura answered with a smile. “Maybe you can.”

  The sound of the front door opening cut the conversation short. Margaret looked over at

  Laura who stared directly at her. Laura ran a finger over her lips, signaling Margaret to keep the

  conversation between them. Margaret nodded back and smiled at her friend’s mother.

  Margaret heard the sound of a backpack hitting the floor as Amy dropped her books to

  the ground. Amy walked down the hall towards the smell of fresh baked cookies.

  “Hello dear, how was your day?” asked Amy’s mother as Amy walked into the kitchen

  and found the two of them waiting for her.

  “All right,” answered Amy. She glanced over at her friend who sat enjoying a cookie. “Hi

  Margaret, how are you doing? I didn’t see you in first period today.”

  “I’m great, I just overslept. I was up pretty late last night.”

  “How did your meeting with your counselor go?” asked Amy’s mother as she handed

  each girl a warm cookie. Amy walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a container of milk.

  “All right,” Amy answered. “I got everything worked out and I think I’m set. Three more

  days and it’s all over. I can’t wait.”

  The two girls finished their cookies while Laura filled the sheet with fresh dough. She

  placed the tray on top of the oven and waited for the buzzer to tell her the second batch had

  finished. Amy got up from the table and walked towards the hallway.

  “Come on, Margaret, I have to get changed and then we can go mess around for a while.”

  “All right,” answered Margaret, getting up from her chair to follow. She signaled to

  Laura that she would keep her mouth shut about their talk as she followed Amy to her room.

  “Thanks for the cookie, Mrs. Jensen.”

  “Laura,” Amy’s mother called out. “Call me Laura.”

  “Sorry, Laura.”

  Amy grabbed her backpack off the floor as she led the way down the hall to her room.

  Margaret caught up with her friend and closed the door behind her as she stepped inside. Amy

  set the pack down on her desk and walked over to her closet to get a change of clothes.

  “So did you find anything out?” asked Amy.

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 133

  “Yeah,” explained Margaret in a somber tone. “You were right, my father did save my

  life.”

  “Did your real mother die or something?”

  “No, she aborted me.”

  Amy turned around with a look of astonishment across her face. She remained silent for

  some time, then snapped out of her trance and turned the blinds so she could change her clothes.

  Margaret knew that she still had a hard time believing the story.

  “What’s that saying that your mom always uses when referring to her pregnancy with

  you?” Margaret asked Amy.

  “Which saying?”

  “Unplanned pregnancy, not unwelcomed?”

  “Yeah,” agreed Amy. “That’s the one.”

  “Well, I guess I wasn’t even welcomed.”

  “I don’t understand, Margaret. What’s going on here?”

  “I looked through the papers again last night like you suggested,” answered Margaret. “I

 
found everything. I was up for a couple of hours reading through some of the journals my father

  and Dr. Penn kept.

  “My real mother chose to terminate her pregnancy. She was almost eighteen when she

  got pregnant, and went to my dad for an abortion. He sedated her and let Dr. Penn do the

  procedure. Dr. Penn hooked me up to some kind of life support device for seven months until I

  finished developing. The last seven months of my development occurred inside a machine, not

  my mother’s womb.”

  “No way.”

  “Yeah, my mother wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “She was really young,” uttered Amy.

  “She was the same age as your mother when she got pregnant with you.” Margaret spoke

  more slowly now, with honesty. “I don’t want you to think that I just stayed your friend because

  I pitied you or anything, because your friendship is one of my most cherished possessions, but I

  always felt sort of sorry for you, because you only had one parent. Now I found out that you had

  one more parent than I did.”

  “You have parents,” argued Amy.

  “You’re right,” agreed Margaret, “and I love them with all my heart. I never realized the

  sacrifice they made for me until I read some of the journals my dad kept. I owe them everything

  that I am. I could never ask for better parents. It’s just that now I don’t know where I fit in.”

  “How do you mean?”

  A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

  © 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 134

  “Well, your mother kept you, even without a father to help her out. That shows her love

  for you. Adopted kids know that their mothers loved them enough to acknowledge that they

  weren’t ready to care for them, and wanted to give them to a better home, but my mother didn’t

  even love me enough to give me a chance at life. It makes me wonder if I should really be here

  or not.”

  “What are you saying? You’re here aren’t you.”

  “Do you believe in God, Amy?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “So do I, Amy. I also believe that God gives children as a gift to their parents. Sometimes

  those parents don’t want their children and have abortions. I think God can foresee that the

  parent will do that.”

  “I’ve never really thought about it that way.”

  “Neither had I,” answered Margaret. “Until last night. I just wonder if my father and Dr.