Only Today

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Only Today Page 7

by Jeri Odell


  “I think Delanie is right. I think we should break up.” Without waiting for his response, she continued, “I guess that sounds stupid because we weren’t ever really a couple. It’s just that after the whole kiss. . .” She gazed directly into his sad eyes. “Well, it was special, at least to me.” Her voice had a catch in it.

  Brady offered a tiny smile and took her hands, but his eyes remained sad.

  Kendall sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself to be honest. “Anyway, somewhere in all of this, I started thinking of us as a couple. Maybe even a couple with some sort of future, which is ironic coming from an amnesiac because until I figure out my past, how can I really have a future with anyone? Your sister is right.”

  There. She’d said it before he could, but her heart was breaking all the same.

  ❧

  Embarrassed hazel eyes looked away from Brady and stared out through the trees. She’d enjoyed the kiss as much as he had. The knowledge made his decision even harder. The conversation he’d most like to avoid was inevitable. He’d hurt her by staying away these last few days, not intentionally, but he’d hurt her nonetheless. He heard it in her tone, saw it in her eyes.

  Now in order to clear things up, he’d have to lay his feelings bare before her. Which is what she’d just bravely done. He needed to show her the same respect.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.” His gaze roamed out over the lake. “I shouldn’t have avoided you. I’m conflicted. . . .”

  She sniffed, and he glanced in her direction. Her head hung low, and her long silky hair provided a curtain of privacy. Wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, she raised her head, her eyes probing the bright blue sky.

  “Kendall, before, when I kissed you. . .”

  She lowered her gaze to meet his. “Don’t say it.” She held up her hand like a crossing guard, her bulky sweater hiding the cast. “Don’t worry. I get it. I don’t have to hear the rejection spoken out loud.”

  “Rejection? Is that what you think?”

  The tears had stopped, and she now glared at him. “Look, Brady, I may have lost my memory, but I’m not stupid. The picture is clear. You don’t want me. Nobody. . .” Her voice cracked, and the unshed tears returned, causing her eyes to glisten. “Wants me,” she finished with a sob.

  Brady lifted Kendall from her chair and carried her to the bench. He sat down and cradled her on his lap as one would a distraught child. She needed holding as much as he needed to hold her. So he held her close to his heart and let her cry. Crying could be cleansing, even healing. There would be time for words later. How frightening it must be not knowing who you are and feeling abandoned.

  The front of Brady’s shirt grew damp, but he didn’t mind. Kendall hadn’t broken down since the accident, and the weeks of stored-up emotions came pouring out like water rushing through a dam. Finally, she grew still and quiet except for an occasional postsob hiccup.

  At last she lifted her head. “I’m okay now.” Her gaze didn’t quite meet his. “But you’re not.” She pointed to the wet spot on the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

  He smiled at her. “Don’t be.” He pushed a tendril of hair off her cheek, his fingers lingering there. Their gazes locked, and all sorts of tender feelings spread through him.

  Kendall broke their eye contact and slid off his lap, settling on the bench next to him. She carefully put some distance between them and watched the ducks swim on the lake.

  In that moment, he realized he’d fallen in love with her—totally, completely, with all his heart in love. And she needed to know, because she felt rejected and abandoned by everyone on the planet. Delanie wouldn’t agree, nor would his dad, but he had to tell her, had to reassure her.

  “Kendall?”

  “Hmm?” She didn’t look his way.

  “I love you.”

  ❧

  Kendall held her breath and replayed his words in her mind. Her heart jumped into overdrive, pounding against her ribs. She faced Brady and saw that his tender expression validated his declaration. But she had to be sure.

  “Did you say. . . ?” The words came out breathlessly.

  He smiled, and her heart melted.

  “I did say. . .” He nodded.

  “I don’t understand.” She thought back over their discussion and the past few days. If he loved her, why did he jump back and put distance between them like a man escaping some near tragedy?

  He traced her cheek and jawline with the tips of his fingers. “I’m a man who has fallen in love with a beautiful woman. Who can understand the ways of the heart?” He winked at her.

  “But—” She wanted to believe him, but her logic kept arguing.

  Brady grew serious. “Here’s the thing—I panicked.”

  “Panicked?”

  Brady nodded. “What if you are married? I can’t risk kissing another man’s wife.”

  Kendall stared at her hands in her lap. “So until someone figures out who I am, or somebody comes forward to claim me, everything is on hold.”

  He took her hand, gently running his thumb over her knuckles. “It’s the right thing.”

  “What if nobody ever comes? What if we never know?” Kendall felt as though someone had given her a beautiful gift and in the next moment taken it away.

  Brady pulled her against him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “I have to believe this is all going to work itself out over the next few weeks.” Turning on the bench to face her, Brady took Kendall’s face between his hands. “I’m here for you, no matter how long it takes—days, weeks, months. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Relief washed over her like a cool breeze, lifting some of the fear. She studied the earnest face before her, the aquamarine eyes asking for her trust. She laid her forehead against his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair.

  “It will be okay. We’ll be fine. Together we can get through this.”

  His presence, his words, his kindness all filled her heart to overflowing. She raised her head and smiled. “Did I tell you that I feel the same about you?”

  He laughed. “No. No, you didn’t.”

  “Well, for the record, I think I do.” She couldn’t bring herself to actually say the word love.

  He kissed her forehead. “For the record, I’m glad.”

  “So where do we go from here?”

  He took each of her hands in his own. “We take a step back and wait on the Lord.”

  Kendall nodded. “What does that mean exactly—the whole ‘taking a step back’ thing?”

  “It means we carry this evening in our hearts, to keep us going while we wait.”

  Dread settled over her. “I won’t see you anymore, will I? At least not until—”

  “I’ll still be around.” He kissed her cheek. “I promise.”

  She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to turn toward his mouth and steal one last kiss. The one from the other night would have to hold her over until things about their future were ironed out. Until things about her life were ironed out.

  “After today, we have to go back to being just friends.”

  “No kissing,” Kendall reminded them both.

  Brady nodded. “No touching, period.”

  “Not at all?” Kendall thought about the comfort she received when Brady simply squeezed her hand.

  Brady shook his head. “If I hold your hand, then I want to hold you. If I hold you, then I want to kiss you.”

  His honesty brought joy to her heart, because those were the same feelings and emotions she experienced.

  “You look way too happy about this.” He tapped her nose with his index finger.

  “It’s nice to hear you voice my feelings. Misery loves company, you know.”

  The sun had set, and the evening began to grow dim. Brady rose from the bench and stretched. “I want to drive you by the scene of the accident—see if the place triggers any memories.”

  “I hope so much that it does.”

  When Brady lifted Kendall, she rest
ed in his strength. In the same way, she’d rest in his strength to get through the wait. His strength and God’s.

  Please, Lord, help me figure out who I am.

  Seven

  Brady drove Kendall back toward the accident site. Lord, let this place jog her memory. I ask You to touch her, heal her, restore her memory. Let today be the day.

  As they passed the corner where the hit-and-run occurred, Brady glanced in the mirror at Kendall, hoping for a reaction but seeing none. She studied the buildings as they cruised by slowly, but no apparent memory was triggered.

  “See anything familiar?” He fought to keep the disappointment from his tone.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Brady.”

  He fought the urge to reach back and grab her hand, giving his typical reassuring squeeze.

  “Let’s drive through the U. I’ll take every street slowly so you can really look around.”

  “Okay.” They rode a few minutes in silence, Kendall studying each building. “Brady, tell me about your family and your life. It will pass the time as we wander the streets hoping to run into my life.”

  He chuckled.

  “If we do run into my life, please don’t run over it.”

  He rolled his eyes at her warped humor.

  “So tell me about your parents, your family. Have you always gone to church?”

  “Yep. I was on the cradle roll as soon as I was old enough for my mom to leave me in the nursery.” Brady drove past some dorms, slowing to a crawl.

  “We had a nice middle-class life. My mom stayed at home until Delanie started first grade. Then she enrolled at the U and got her master’s in social work. My dad was a street cop and worked his way through the ranks.”

  Brady squelched a sigh as they passed the last dorm. He sent a meaningful glance in Kendall’s direction.

  “I’m trying, Brady. I really am, but I feel as though I’ve never seen any of this before. It’s like I’m visiting a strange city for the first time.”

  “It’s okay,” he falsely reassured her, needing some reassurance himself. God, where are You? Why aren’t You helping us? He wanted to hit the steering wheel and yell at the top of his lungs. Why was God silent when Kendall needed His intervention so much?

  Brady took a left, deciding to drive past the fraternity and sorority houses.

  “So you said your dad worked his way through the ranks?”

  “All the way to police chief, which is an elected position. Luckily, he stuck to his plan and got a four-year degree before entering the academy. It served him well and enabled him to go places in the force that he wanted to go. He says he’s a man living his dream.”

  “How about you? Are you a man living your dream?” Kendall shifted her gaze from the passing landscape to the rearview mirror.

  Again Brady slowed and crept by the various Greek houses, pondering Kendall’s question. Students hung out on the front porches or sat on the grass.

  “Yeah, for the most part I am. I’ve got the job I wanted. I have a great family, some good friends.”

  “How old were you when you realized you wanted to be a paramedic when you grew up?”

  “About twelve.” Brady braked for a couple crossing the street. “I was in junior high and doing a ride along with my dad for a paper I had to write. We were called to the scene of an accident, and I watched a medic save a child’s life. I knew I wanted the same privilege.”

  Since the dorm and housing areas hadn’t provided any hope, Brady started a methodical approach, taking every block of every street that was accessible by car. Kendall kept her gaze focused out the window, and Brady kept his speed far below the posted allowance.

  “I’ll drive each street twice, since you can’t see both sides of the road at the same time.”

  “Thanks. How many lives have you saved?”

  Brady shrugged. “I don’t know. In the early days I used to keep track, but it became a source of pride. So I quit counting because ultimately I’m only a tool that God uses. Nothing more.”

  Kendall glanced at him and smiled. “Even though I don’t know anything about me, I know in my heart that you, Brady Cooper, are one-of-a kind—a really good man.”

  Brady pulled over and stopped. “And, Kendall”—he turned in his seat and faced her—“I know in my heart that you aren’t a stripper or a hooker or even a married woman. There is something pure about you. I sense it deep in my heart.”

  Kendall stopped looking at the area and stared openmouthed at him. “A stripper or a hooker?” Lacing her words was the horror of the implication. “Is that what the police—your father and brother—assume?”

  “No, of course not.” Brady wanted to kick himself for his carelessness. What had he been thinking to let that slip?

  The incredulous expression on Kendall’s face said even more than she had. “Well, that explains your hesitation earlier today.”

  “What hesitation?” Brady had no idea what she referred to.

  “This morning when I asked whether the police had garnered more information, you hesitated. I don’t know what they think or what they’ve discovered,” Kendall said, her voice growing louder, more forceful, “but the idea of my being a stripper or hooker repulses me. I know to the core of my being I’m neither of those things. I may not know what or who I am, but I know what I’m not!”

  Under the streetlamp, Brady could see the pulse throbbing on the side of Kendall’s neck. “No one is accusing you of either of those professions.”

  Her expression reflected doubt.

  “I promise. Unfortunately, as police, they have to approach each case from every possible angle. There is no evidence tying you to their speculations, but they can’t leave a stone unturned.”

  Kendall looked afraid. “What if I just think I’m a nice person?” Doubts had obviously crept in. “What if I’m a horrible person with an unsavory past?”

  Her gaze searched his face.

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. I don’t. There is a sweetness about you, an innocence.”

  “Maybe you just want to see that. Maybe I just want to believe it, but what if?” Worry lines etched themselves across her forehead. “What if, Brady?”

  He raised his shoulders. “Then you start a new and different life with a clean slate. I mean, that’s what the Christian life is all about. We’re all sinners. We all have things in our past we regret. Every person has deficits that can only be overcome as we surrender our lives to Christ and ask Him to live through us, change us, and make us new creations. That’s why we’re referred to as born again. We die to our old selves and our old way of life, and we start living a new life with His help and according to His Word.”

  Kendall laid her head against the window behind her, staring up at the roof. “This nightmare grows worse with each day. First I have no memory of who I am or where I live. Then I discover I’ve been abandoned by anyone and everyone who might possibly know me. Now I have to face the possibility of discovering that the real me is someone less than desirable.” She faced Brady.

  “Tell me that your feelings won’t change if you discover I’m a topless dancer?”

  Brady shook his head, but in all honesty, he couldn’t say for sure. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.

  “Of course they will! I mean, my own feelings about myself will change. How can yours not?” Her tone demanded an answer.

  “I don’t know, Kendall. I can’t predict the future, but my heart says no, nothing will change.”

  “Everything will change, Brady. Everything.” She sighed. “No wonder your poor family wants you to slow down. Imagine their horror that I might be a less-than-honorable catch.”

  Brady reached for her hand again, just needing to touch her and offer comfort. “Take a deep breath. This whole conversation is nuts. We’re talking about the unknown as if it’s known.”

  She did as he instructed, sucking in a deep breath through her nose and blowing it out slowly through her mouth.

&
nbsp; “Do that again five more times,” he encouraged.

  When she let out the last breath, he asked, “Feel better?”

  She smiled an embarrassed little smile. “I do. Fear is obviously one of my weaknesses. Once I wrapped my mind around the possibilities, my thoughts ran away and spiraled out of control.”

  Brady squeezed her hand. “We have to live in the here and now—in the truth that we know. And for us, that means one day and one moment at a time. A few weeks ago, my pastor said fear is an acronym for ‘false evidence appearing real.’ This whole conversation has been about false evidence.”

  Kendall nodded. “You’re right.”

  Brady pulled back onto the road. “Study every building, and we’ll forget the rest of tonight.”

  Later that night when Brady rolled Kendall into her room, a cloud of discouragement shrouded them both. They’d covered every accessible inch of the campus, and not one thing looked even vaguely familiar. Brady helped her onto her bed then bid her good night from the doorway, carefully keeping his distance. He knew by the droop of her shoulders that she, too, was discouraged by the lack of progress they’d made today.

  When Brady climbed into the SUV, he slammed the door with extra force. “Where were You today, God?”

  He headed to his parents’ house, knowing they’d still be up. He needed to talk to someone.

  Brady let himself in with his garage door opener, finding his dad in the study off the great room.

  “Hey there.” His dad glanced up from his computer screen. “Everything okay?”

  “Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” His dad rose, and they left the office.

  “Brady, I didn’t know you were here.” His mom stood at the stove pouring hot water from her teakettle into an oversized cup. “I’m making myself some tea. Can I get you anything?” She studied him a moment in that way moms do. “You look like you could use a cup of hot cocoa.” She started the process without waiting for his response.

  He smiled, thinking back to his childhood. His mom’s answer to all of life’s ailments had been hot chocolate, a heart-to-heart discussion, and a time of prayer before heading off to bed. Tonight was no different.

 

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