Sweet Jane: An amnesia story about being lost and then found

by Knox, Abby

  “I see what you’re saying, Pops, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

  Pops is turning on EEG machines and rushing around the room, and I can’t tell if he’s talking to me or to some imaginary person who will listen to his venting.

  “Bother me. What the hell is wrong with this boy? Even the charge nurse knew to call me right away when he saw the young lady’s peculiar paperwork.”

  I let him mutter as he putters around the room, hooking electrodes up to Jane’s head and firing up monitors and machines.

  “I fast-tracked the MRI, but it’ll be a minute. In the meantime let me ask you some questions.”

  I hold up my hand. “Just hold on a second, Pops. Jane was about to tell me something. Jane, did you say you saw your uncle in the lobby?”

  Her eyes are wide and something on the monitor that’s reading her brain scan is making lots of blips.

  She nods. “Yeah, that was him.”

  “What do you remember?” I say tenderly, running the tips of my fingers over the back of her hand. She is shaking like a leaf. Her eyes are wide.

  “What is it, what did you remember, Jane?”

  She shakes her head. “You gotta get me out of here.”

  Pops butts in. “Young lady, you aren’t going anywhere without an MRI. I need to take a good look at you before that son of mine takes you anywhere. Do you understand me?”

  She nods her head, but she doesn’t take her eyes off me. Pops shines a light in her eyes and mutters that it doesn’t appear as if she’s had a concussion.

  I cup her chin in my hand. “Jane. Listen to me. I said I wasn’t going to leave you, and by that I mean I’m not going to make you go anywhere you don’t want to go. If you don’t want to go anywhere with your uncle, then you don’t go anywhere with your uncle. You stay with me as long as you want.”

  I talk calmly to her until the whole process is over.

  The hardest part is watching her go through the MRI. In fact it nearly breaks my heart, watching her legs tremble, not being able to make eye contact with her in that big machine.

  Later, Pops shows us the MRI results and explains in as simple terms as he can that she looks clear of any injuries and doesnt have any tumors.

  “There’s nothing wrong other than you’ve lost your memory. The only thing I can determine is you may have experienced some kind of mental or emotional trauma that has caused what’s known as transient global amnesia. The lack of circulation to the area that controls memory caused you to fall into some kind of a fugue state that compelled you to wander off,” Pops says.

  He prescribes some anti-anxiety medication.

  “Aren’t you retired?” Jane croaks out, clearly exhausted from the day’s events.

  Pops ignores the question. “It will help you relax enough that some memories could come back. And should help you sleep soundly.”

  I watch Jane’s face as she listens intently to Pops, and I continue to squeeze her hand. In that moment, I know I don’t want her going through any difficulty like this without my hand to hold. And when I’m old and gray and receiving bad news from the doctor, I want no other person to be there for me than Jane.

  It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

  Chapter Nine

  Jane

  “I’m taking you home, Jane,” Shep says, and I get a small thrill of anticipation.

  But Levi won’t hear of it.

  “First of all, you don’t know the way out of here to avoid your uncle. I’m taking you home to my place. I already texted the chef to bump up dinner and set another place at the table. And thirdly, y’all are staying at my house tonight.”

  “Excuse me?” Shep asks.

  “For all you know, she could be a married woman,” Pops argues.

  “Pops. She ain’t married, look at her left hand.”

  “That doesn’t mean a damn thing and you know it.”

  For some reason, Shep and Levi are exchanging a knowing look with each other.

  “Look, I would know if I was married,” I say. “I would just, you know, feel…married.”

  Levi ignores my salient point and leads us out down to the parking garage via an elevator that has to be accessed with a key.

  On the way down, I feel a strange tension in the air that seems to be about something beyond me.

  “I thought you were retired?” I repeat to Levi.

  “I am.”

  Shep explains, “He also donates all of his book royalties to the indigent fund to make sure no patient is ever turned away from the hospital. He has privileges here as long as he wants.”

  We reach the parking garage in silence, where an SUV is waiting for us.

  * * *

  “You can dress for dinner in there,” says Pops, gesturing to a guest room off of the spacious modern kitchen at his mansion on the hill overlooking the city. “I had Cherie bring over some clothes for you.”

  Cherie has been introduced to us as Pops’s new “lady friend,” whom he just met that day while kayaking.

  They must have really hit it off for her to come to dinner at his house. And to bring me some of her own clothes? Crazy fast, I think.

  But then I look over at Shep, who’s looking over at me with such care and concern, and I know that moving fast is a relative term. Someone can fall for a person completely in less than one day.

  Cherie hands me a selection of clothes and I turn to change in the guest room.

  “Pops, what’s the big deal if she wants to wear gym clothes to dinner? It’s not like the pope is coming,” Shep says.

  Levi addresses me. “Young lady, do you want to wear Shep’s raggedy gym clothes to dinner or do you want to dress up?”

  I look from Shep to Levi, and I say, “Well, I do feel a little silly.”

  “See that?” Levi says, looking proud of himself.

  Shep smiles and I give him a wink before I close the door.

  Chapter Ten

  Shep

  When she comes out wearing Cherie’s clothes, I’m looking at an actual angel.

  The soft lavender sweater brings out her blonde hair and makes her blue eyes pop. The black skirt cut high shows off her tanned, sculpted legs way better than my ridiculous basketball shorts. She’s even got on heels and jewelry. Cherie went all out, and she barely knows my Pops yet.

  When we arrived at the house, she was there waiting for us, already looking like she belonged there. Cherie is much younger than Pops. Closer to my age, but something about her and Pops just works.

  Who am I to question their attraction for each other, when I am falling head over heels for a female who I don’t yet know anything about?

  We sit down to dinner and the chef has prepared my favorite: chicken and waffles.

  Cherie asks, “Jane have you ever tried this before?”

  I glance over at Jane and she’s shaking her head. “I’m not sure, but it smells amazing.”

  Cherie’s face falls in embarrassment. “Oh god. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive to your…condition.”

  And then I fall completely, madly in love with my sweet Jane. She reaches over and places a hand on top of Cherie’s. “It’s fine, don’t be embarrassed. You just met me and I’m wearing your clothes. I’m more than willing to talk about anything you ask.”

  I’m sitting so close that once again our thighs are touching. I reach under the table and place my hand on the slit in her skirt, holding on to her smooth, bare leg. “Are you sure? You don’t have to talk about it,” I say.

  Jane nods her head at me. “I think it will help me remember if I talk about what I know,” she says.

  “She’s right,” says Pops.

  The food, the oldies music on the stereo, the candlelight and the company all make the moment feel like a bunch of old friends talking, and it is like a comfortable homey feeling, the four of us.

  “That man I saw at the hospital. It’s my uncle. I remember him. It’s still a little fuzzy, but we all lived together in som
e place. There’s a tall fence. A bunch of little cottages. My uncle is the one who sort of takes care of things, makes sure we’re all safe.

  “I’m not sure who my mom and dad are.

  I seem to remember there’s a lot of rules and it’s very bad if you break them.

  “This is all just based on emotions, not clear memories.

  “And I feel like I was about to break the rules and something very bad happened. And then I ran away, and now my uncle is looking for me.”

  “It seems odd that if he’s out looking for you that there wouldn’t be anything on the news or the internet about you yet,” Cherie says.

  I grunt because I have a pretty good idea why not. “I know what this is. You were in a cult, Jane. You escaped a cult.”

  Cherie and Pops exchange looks.

  “Explain yourself, young man.”

  “Think about it,” I say. “Her uncle is a single domineering figure. Strict rules. Punishments. Tall fences. She’s in a cult. Or she was.”

  “That’s kind of a stretch,” Pops says.

  “It would explain why they haven’t called the police or put out a missing person report on her. They want to find her but keep it on the down low,” I say.

  Jane’s hand rests over mine and squeezes tightly. “If I’m married and the guy is not doing everything in his power to find me? I don’t want that guy anywhere near me ever again.

  “And now, I don’t really want to talk about it anymore. Levi, I want to hear more about you and Shep. He told me you helped him start up the business.”

  Pops sits back, sips his wine and explains why he decided to invest in my coffee business.

  “I appreciate his entrepreneurial spirit,” he says.

  “He’s the only one who believed in me,” I say. “The typical investors, all scoffed at my vision to use only fair-trade organic beans, grown without clear-cutting, without displacing native people and wildlife.”

  Pops laughs. “I don’t know how that boy was raised by me, but he’s an insufferable do-gooder sometimes. All this fuss over beans is high maintenance and expensive.”

  I laugh. “It’s true. But my brand is my brand is my brand. So, when even the more aggressive capital investors laughed me right out the door, I happily walked out.”

  Pops hammers a finger on the table. “And that’s when I knew he had grown up just like me. Stubborn as the day is long, and determined.

  “Don’t like my style? Then you can just go somewhere else. That’s how I made my way in the world, and if he believed in his precious coffee beans that much, well I knew there was something to it.”

  I say, “If only I could get Pops to drink my coffee instead of that instant swill.”

  Pops waves me off. “I’ll survive, just make sure I get my return on investment.”

  “You will, sir,” I say. “But you’ll never have real happiness until you drink my coffee.”

  I watch as Pops reaches over and takes Cherie’s hand and says, “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  Cherie is blushing and making eyes at Pops.

  I don’t know how those two managed to meet at the boat house and fall in love all in the same day, and I don’t think I want all the details.

  But as I’m thinking about that, I feel Jane’s hand on my leg, under the table. It’s a bit higher than it should be in polite company, and the feel of it is exciting. If I weren’t at the table with my Pops, I might be fully aroused already.

  I start looking for signals to end dinner so I can take Jane home to my bed. Inhale her scent, kiss her mouth, explore every one of those sultry curves.

  I inch my hand up her thigh. Her other hand hikes the skirt up some more, discreetly.

  I inch up farther and pretty soon I think I can feel the heat emanating from the deep center of her.

  I can’t wait to lose myself Jane’s heat, plunge into her, taste her, drink her in. Claim her.

  We continue fondling each other under the table while Jane carries on a conversation with Cherie, asking her questions about her upbringing, her favorite movies, likes, dislikes. And she’s not feigning interest; my Jane is 100 percent focused and real. She’s also now got her hand on my dick, the way some people hold on to the napkins at dinner while making polite conversations.

  “This is all very interesting, Cherie, and it’s actually helping me. I’m so glad we met,” Jane says.

  Oh shit, is she going to pay later for this. I have to end this conversation right now.

  “This has been an amazing dinner, but Jane is exhausted. She needs some rest, so I’m going to go ahead and take her home, if that’s alright with everyone.”

  Pops laughs.

  “Like hell you will,” he says.

  Jane and I look at each other. She has a curious look, but I simply shrug.

  “What are you talking about, Pops?”

  “First of all, this girl is under my supervision. She should be monitored tonight in case something happens in her sleep.

  Second of all, she could be somebody’s wife. We talked about this.”

  Jane’s hand on my dick freezes. My grip tightens on her thigh.

  “Don’t think I don’t know the two of you are feeling each other up under the table right now. I may be old, but I ain’t dead,” Pops says.

  I slip my hand away from Jane’s leg, even though I know in my heart she’s not married. I just know. Tomorrow, somehow, we will find out for sure.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jane

  My heart sinks.

  And I’m confused about the look that Levi and Shep are exchanging right now.

  I was so sure I was going lose myself in Shep’s arms tonight.

  I want nothing more than to fall asleep with his massive chest pressed up against me, his hand cupping my breast. I want to fall asleep exhausted from riding his cock to completion, over and over.

  “Doctor Frost,” I say, switching to the formality because I’m hurt. “I’m not married. I’m sure of it.”

  But it’s as if he doesn’t hear me. “You can have the guest room. Son, you can go home. Cherie and I will keep an eye on her.”

  Shep’s jaw is clenching and he grits out, “Not a goddamn chance I’m leaving her alone tonight,” Shep says.

  “Fine,” Levi says. “You can stay in your old room.”

  “I’m not going to get my way on this, am I?” he says.

  “Son, you know the difference between right and wrong.”

  “Yes I do, and this time, you’re wrong.”

  “You think so, but you don’t know for sure.”

  There is a brief stare-down between Shep and Levi, and at first I think we might be stuck here at the table all night.

  Finally, I say, “It’s fine, Doctor Frost. I’m so exhausted, I’m going to turn in. But how will I alert you if I need you?”

  Levi seems satisfied at my decision and tells me to use the landline phone in the room. He gives me three numbers, which will dial his room.

  I look one more time at Shep before turning to go to my room for the night. He squeezes my shoulders, then leans in and kisses me on my forehead.

  “It’s all going to work out,” he says.

  I truly hope so.

  * * *

  The phone at my bedside table is ringing softly.

  I’m just about to drift off to sleep, after having taken a shower and slipped in between the luxuriously soft sheets.

  I am annoyed but I answer it, thinking it could be the doctor checking on me.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi.” The deep voice on the other end is urgent. And it’s not the doctor. And I’m happy.

  “Back at you,” I say, smiling sleepily.

  “Did I wake you up?”

  “I just took a shower and was about to go to sleep.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Never be sorry for letting me hear your voice.”

  “I was just lying here staring at my cell phone and I knew I would never sleep i
f I didn’t say a proper good night.”

  I smile. “It’s been an interesting day, Shep.”

  “Yes it has, Jane.”

  “What’s a proper good night?”

  I can hear him sighing as he stretches out. “I might kiss you on the cheek first.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Well, you are married after all.”

  “You know that’s bullshit, right? He’s just trying to keep an eye on you. I understand that. But there’s no way I’m married.”

  “I don’t know if you are and I do not care.”

  “Yes you do. You’re a good person.”

  “No I’m not. I’m a bad boy. I’m a very bad boy.”

  “Oh stop. No you are not.”

  “Jane. Sweetheart. You’re missing the point. I’m trying to have phone sex with you.”

  My skin crackles with surprise.

  “Why don’t you just sneak into my room?”

  “Don’t make me compromise my ethics.”

  “And phone sex isn’t a compromise?”

  “Not a compromise. I’m 99.9 percent sure you’re not married. More like bending the rules but not quite breaking anything.”

  “Shep, I cannot wait for you to bend me and break me.” I can barely believe the words coming out of my mouth.

  The noise he makes in response, a cross between a growl and a grunt, penetrates my ear and makes my entire body shiver. My nipples are tight at the sound of his breathing through the phone.

  “Jane, close your eyes.”

  How can I not, when this man requests it?

  “Closed.”

  “Good girl. Now tell me what you’re wearing.”

  “I just had a shower and I put your hoodie back on, because I wanted your smell on me.”

  “Damn right you did. Put your hand under it and touch your breast.”

  I do as he asks. “I’m doing it.”

  “What do your nipples feel like?”

  “Tight. Sore. They want you.”