A Kiss For You

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I bit my lip, wondering if I should even attempt to ask him the question on the tip of my tongue. “Do you think I can see him? Sammy? Maybe spend some time with him?” I asked. “It could help me remember more,” I added, hoping it would help Tanner say yes.

  He waved his hand through the air as if my question was a ridiculous one. “Of course, Ray. You’re his mom. You don’t even have to ask.” Tanner reached for my hand but just as it was about to clasp over mine, he hesitated, before withdrawing it completely and resting it on his knee.

  “Now can I ask you a question?” Tanner asked.

  “Yes, it’s your turn,” I said.

  Tanner chewed on the tip of his thumbnail. “You and the guy with the tattoos. You were living with him, right? And then when we came to get you, you guys were arguing, like you two were…” Tanner trailed off.

  I didn’t want him to feel awkward so instead of forcing him to ask the difficult question, I volunteered the answer. “King. His name is Brantley King.” Saying his name made me feel like I could breathe, yet, at the same time, knocked the wind from my lungs. But that was King; a contradiction in every single way.

  Tanner leaned his elbows onto his thighs and dropped his face into his hands. “This is so fucking hard to ask you, Ray, but I feel like I just need to know. No, I have to know,” he moaned. “Have you guys, I mean, did you…?”

  I just wanted to get it over with. Rip it off like a Band-Aid. “Yes.” After all, I’d promised him honesty, not delicacy.

  “Oh my God. I think I’m going to be sick,” Tanner blurted out, jumping up from the bed.

  “You said you wanted me to be honest!” I exclaimed, jumping up as well. “And don’t look at me like I cheated on you. I didn’t even know there was a you to cheat on!”

  Tanner shifted from foot to foot. “I know, I know what I said. But I didn’t expect your answer to break my heart!” Tanner whisper-shouted. “And I know it’s not like you cheated on me because the Ray I know would never have had sex with some strange guy she’d just met.” Tanner paced the room. He wasn’t being purposely mean, he was just upset, but it was the judgmental tone in his voice that grated on my nerves and made me regret my promise of honesty.

  “Newsflash buddy, I don’t know you or the Ray you know. My name isn’t even Ray, they called me Doe. As in Jane Doe. As in nobody knew who the fuck I was. So if you want to talk about being angry and who wronged who, then get in fucking line!” I shouted.

  Tanner clutched his arms around his stomach as if I’d physically socked him in the gut. “I looked for you, you know. I spent days, weeks, months. I never gave up hope.” His voice was so low I barely heard him. He shook his head. “But you’re right, I really don’t know you.”

  “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” I said. I fell back into the mattress and rolled over onto my stomach, shouting my frustrations into my comforter. When I rolled back over Tanner’s jaw was on the floor.

  “What?” I asked, looking down at my body to make sure I was properly clothed. Everything was in place. I stood up and checked again.

  Nothing.

  Tanner stammered. “It’s you..your..shh..shoulder. Your..ba.ba..back. You have a…tattoo,” he said in disbelief, barely able to finish his sentence.

  “Okay? So?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and resting my palm on the place where King had marked me, feeling defensive and ready to snap.

  Tanner paled. “Of his name. You have a huge tattoo on your back, of his name,” he repeated. It wasn’t so much a statement, but an accusation. I didn’t feel like explaining to him that my tattoo wasn’t anyone’s name, but it was dark in my room, and the artwork was intricate, so it would’ve been easy to mistake it for something else. I took a deep breath and tried to remember that Tanner was going through something that was hard for me to understand, just as I was going through something that was hard for him to understand.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Tanner. But I don’t need to defend myself to you either.”

  “I don’t know where we go from here. Where I go.” He ran his hand over his open mouth and then his jaw. “You were with someone else.”

  “It’s not like I wanted to want him. You know, I had this whole idea that I was going to preserve myself, keep myself clean or pure or something, for the person I was before I lost my memory. For this Ray person. But time passed, and King and I, we grew close. And after a while, I was so tired of fighting it. Tired of putting the life I could have on hold for a life I knew nothing about. So I let him in. I let him tattoo me. I let him…love me.” The words brought back memories that caused tears to prickle in the back of my eyes. “I don’t regret it though. Any of it. I won’t. And it doesn’t matter what you say, because you can’t make me.”

  “Jesus Christ, Ray. He’s like thirty, and you’re just a teenager! On top of that, you’re the only girl I’ve ever been with, and the last time we had sex was when we were fifteen! You’re standing here telling me that you let him…” He took a step toward the window seat and bent over, leaning his hands against it for support. “You let him…touch you.” He finished in a much calmer tone of voice than he’d started.

  A lump formed in my throat. “Yes,” I said, fighting back the tears. “Don’t you dare judge me. I can be sympathetic to you because I know how it feels to be confused and overwhelmed, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know you.” I stared him down and held my ground. I was not about to let him or anyone tell me that what King and I had was somehow wrong.

  Tanner threw his hands in the air. “Well, that makes two of us. The Ray I knew never once raised her voice, never yelled, never swore. You may look like her, but you’re just an imposter.” His words slapped me across the face. I could feel the sting as real as if he’d used his hand. “Maybe you shouldn’t have come back after all,” he said, the corner of his lip turned up in disgust.

  “Leave,” I demanded, stomping my foot on the ground and pointing toward the window he’d used to come in. “Now.”

  Tanner stepped up on the window seat and had one leg dangling off the ledge when he hesitated for a moment. Slowly he turned back toward me, watery eyes shimmering. “I’m sorry. I really am. I just…I still love you, Ray,” Tanner said softly.

  I was still in defense mode, but I realized that the only reason Tanner was lashing out at me was because he really was heartbroken. I couldn’t let him leave without giving him something. “I can’t tell you the same, but I know I felt something for you, before all this. It’s the only reason I can think of that your eyes were the only thing I recognize in all this. That’s got to mean something, right?” I offered. Tanner smiled a small sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I even sketched them once,” I added, hoping that little bit of information might bring him some sort of comfort.

  “Do you love him?” he asked with sadness in his voice. “Tell me the truth, Ray. I can handle it.” I didn’t believe that for one second. I searched my brain and my heart for the answer, one that despite all the bullshit, all the lies, all the misunderstanding, I’d never doubted.

  “Yes,” I answered simply.

  Tanner cringed. He turned and leapt from the window onto a nearby tree branch. By the time I walked over to the ledge he was on the ground brushing leaves off of his pants. He looked back up to my window. “Even though he knew who you were but didn’t tell you? Even though he used you in order to get his own daughter back? You still love him despite all that?” He whisper shouted his question.

  I tried to explain my complicated feelings to him the best I could, “You can be pissed off and still love someone at the same time.”

  Tanner walked across the lawn but before he disappeared into the dark shadows, I heard him mutter, “I can relate.”

  Doe

  I spent the next three days in my room, alone. Only getting out of bed for a quick shower and change of clothes. But I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep, with the exception of a cat nap here and there when my body argued
that it was tired, while the rest of me was on high alert.

  It was past midnight when I awoke from such a nap and found myself in pitch blackness. The panic started to set in. I tried to take a deep breath but I couldn’t pull in enough air. I fumbled for the remote, but when I found it and pressed every button on it, nothing happened. Willing myself to keep searching for a light source, I felt around on the wall beside the bed for a switch but couldn’t find one. Finally, I ran over to the window and pushed back the curtains, hoping the light from the moon was enough to allow me to catch my breath for a second. No such luck. Storm clouds hung low in the air, rumbling across the sky, vibrating the floor underneath my feet. All I could think of was that I was going to die from sheer panic.

  I crouched down onto the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees. My chest was so tight. The room spun around me, books on the shelf blended together in a line. It was then I finally realized something. Maybe my panic wasn’t about being alone in the dark.

  Maybe it was just about being alone.

  The only person I felt any sort of connection with in this new/old life was Sammy, and I’d only seen him for a matter of minutes. And with the way Tanner and I had left things, I didn’t know when I would be able to see Sammy again.

  Maybe never.

  I could’ve said the same thing about King.

  Suddenly I felt like breathing the air in that house, in that room, was like inhaling poison. The more I breathed it in, the more I felt like I was going to die right then and there on the bedroom floor I didn’t remember.

  I was going to suffocate.

  I had to get the fuck out.

  I didn’t bother with shoes. Still in the shorts and tank top I wore to bed, I stepped up onto the window seat and pushed open the window. I shuffled until my legs were dangling over the edge like Tanner had done. There was nothing but darkness beneath my feet. Holding onto the window frame with one arm, I stretched out the other and felt around for the tree branch I knew was there. The second my hand touched it a sense of familiarity encompassed me. The tree and I had long been acquaintances, I was sure of it. I may have not known where to look or what to hold onto, but my body knew. Without a single misstep, I managed to lower myself onto the tree branch and with a second nature type precision, I found a branch to grab and ridges for my footing, without much thought at all. At one point, without knowing exactly how far down the ground was beneath my feet, I felt the urge to jump.

  So I did.

  Sharp blades of thick grass stung the soles of my feet on impact. I crouched down to brace myself as I landed. When I stood up, a motion light buzzed to life, its soft hum breaking into the quiet of the night like a freight train barreling down the tracks at full speed. Tanner must have known where to step without turning the light on.

  And then I ran.

  Darting off across the yard, kicking up water, grass, and mud onto the backs of my calves, I sprinted as fast as I could make my short legs move.

  The short iron fence around the property stopped at the line of bushes that defined the backyard. The natural foliage acting as its own kind of fence. I ran directly for a small tunnel like opening in the bushes, barely slowing down as I ducked down into it, maneuvering through like I’d done it a thousand times before. Leaves and thorns both licked and stung my elbows, pulling at my hair as I passed through, but I continued on until I emerged on the other side of the path onto a small beach.

  The clouds took turns slowly passing over the moon; the light reflected off the still water looked as if someone were playing with a dimmer on a light switch. I followed the shoreline, the cool water lapping over my feet, the mushy sand pushed up between my toes with each step.

  When I came across overgrown mangroves in my path that were growing from the ‘fence’ of the backyard out across the water several feet, I didn’t give what I was about to do a second thought. I turned and waded into the dark water. It had felt only mildly cool on my feet when I was walking but as the water inched up higher and higher on my legs, it was downright cold.

  When the water rose over my waist, I shivered.

  I pushed through water, sinking into the soft earth, sending little waves crashing against the base of the trees. Something darted out into the water in front of me. At first I thought it was a snake, the way it slithered from side to side making an S shape in the water. I waded out further to avoid it, but when it slithered right by me, I realized that it wasn’t a snake at all, but a large lizard. It hissed as it passed, like an angry driver giving me the finger.

  Once I cleared the trees I sloshed back up to the shore on the other side. My shorts hung heavily off of my hips, clinging to my thighs.

  I found myself in a small alcove with an old weathered dock that connected to an even older and more weathered pier. Tethered to the pier was a dilapidated houseboat that was decades over its expiration date. The tethering was entirely unnecessary as the boat was mostly on the beach, resting at an angle that told me it had probably been that way for a long time. As I approached the strong odor of mildew, mixed with the salt air, grew stronger and stronger. Much to my surprise I inhaled deeply and unlike the extreme sense of panic I’d experienced in the house, an eerie sense of calm washed over me.

  I smiled. I knew this place. I loved this place.

  I didn’t know or understand the hows and whys, I just needed to be closer to it.

  I stepped up onto the dock and it protested my intrusion, creaking and hissing as I made my way down the pier. As I got closer, I realized the boat was a good five feet away from the pier. I spotted a long piece of plywood and picked it up off of the dock, sending ants scurrying all around it. I quickly set it down across the gap, creating a makeshift bridge.

  I carefully crossed over it, hopping down onto the cracked wooden deck of the boathouse, which was large, but for the most part empty, with the exception of three rusted folding chairs set in front of the sliding glass doors under the little overhang. A rusted can of Dr. Pepper sat in each of the cup holders. A pink flashlight with a My Little Pony sticker was propped up on one of the chairs. I picked it up and tried to click on the switch. Nothing. I gave it a vigorous shake and banged one end against the palm of my hand. Surprisingly enough, it came to life, shining directly into my eye, temporarily blinding me. I blinked and waited for my eyes to readjust. With my working flashlight to help light the way, I found the handle on the door and attempted to slide it open. It took quite a bit of force to get it to budge, as debris and mud caked the threshold.

  Much like the deck, the cabin was empty, except for a few cabinets lining the far wall. Most of the doors were hanging off the hinges. All the shelves were missing. Three faded sleeping bags sat up against another wall. One purple, one pink, and one blue. All three were covered with mildew and frayed at the seams.

  Every single inch of wall and ceiling space was covered with magazine pages and clippings. And when I looked closer, through the layer of grime that had coated the pictures over time, I could still make out the different teenage stars from boy bands or TV shows.

  Teen magazines. Wall-to-wall teen magazines.

  I closed my eyes again and inhaled, hoping to catch another hint of what triggered my recognition. This was a place I’d spent a lot of time. I was positive that one of those sleeping bags was mine and I was even more sure that I’d at least helped wallpaper the place with the magazine pages, because as I walked around, I found myself humming one of the tunes from one of the boy bands. That particular band seemed to have their own section of wall space dedicated completely to them.

  I was so lost in my mission to remember more about that place that I didn’t hear the approaching footsteps.

  A strong calloused hand covered my mouth from behind, muffling my scream of surprise; an arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush up against a very hard, very familiar body. “Miss me, Pup?” A deep voice vibrated against my neck. The light scent of cigarettes and soap, mixed with a bit of sweat, invaded my senses. My body in
stantly softened at the familiarity of his touch. My breath quickened. He released me just enough to spin me around to face him.

  King.

  I should’ve been happy to see him. Elated even. I’d been thinking about him almost nonstop since I last saw him days ago.

  But my happiness was muted. By anger. A lot of anger.

  I was fucking pissed.

  And that feeling seemed to be mutual because I could only describe the way King’s green eyes blazed into mine, as furious.

  “What are you doing here? I thought—”

  “No,” King interrupted. “I know you’re about to start your question and answer bullshit, which I normally think is fucking adorable, but right now, before I lose my fucking shit, you’re going to have to answer one of my questions first.” His voice sounded strained, raspy, like he was fighting to maintain control.

  I tried to speak again, but he covered my mouth with his hand, pushing his thumb inside, silencing me with his makeshift gag. “Why the fuck was that little shit climbing in and out of your fucking window a few days ago?” He pulled his thumb from my mouth, and I regretted not biting down on it when I had the chance.

  “How? Were you watching me?”

  King took his wet thumb and rubbed it over my lips, and I instinctively leaned into his touch. “Not me. But I’ve got eyes on you.” King’s brows drew into a downward point. His grip around me tightened. “Answer me, Pup,” he demanded, his fingers digging into my hips.

  King wasn’t someone who could be ignored.

  His tongue darted out between his lips; he slid it along the seam. I tried not to stare and instead focus on the anger that had been building for days, but my body’s reaction couldn’t be contained. It was amazing how such a little thing like wetting his full lips with his talented tongue already had my nipples standing at attention, ready for his touch.