Memory's Edge: Part One Page 17

  As if that were the end of the conversation just because he said it should be, John pulled her against his chest again. Gretchen pulled back, looking up at him.

  “Wait a minute, John,” she said. “I want to say something.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched, probably in fear, but the rest of him tried to look optimistic. “You don’t need to, Gretchen. I sprang this on you. I understand if you need to think about what I said.”

  “I don’t need to think about it. I already know how I feel about you,” she said. John’s eyebrows rose hopefully, making her smile. “I love you too, John.”

  His whole body relaxed. Gretchen’s exploded with joy. She wanted John to love her, not just need her, and now she knew he did. He knew she loved him, too. That was even more surprising to Gretchen than his sudden confession. She hadn’t been sure she would ever say that to anyone again. For the first time since leaving Steve, Gretchen’s heart felt whole. The scars were still there, but the wounds had finally closed.

  “I didn’t mean to take so long to respond,” Gretchen said, “but you did surprise me. After the boyfriend conversation…I wasn’t prepared. I was surprised in a good way, though.”

  John laughed, and said, “I kind of surprised myself, too.”

  The song changed, but not the pace. More couples joined them on the floor as the non-waltzing music continued. Leaning against each other, they settled back into the rhythm of the song. Everything felt right in John’s arms. The pair moved slowly across the room, their feet barely leaving the floor, but Gretchen felt light as they danced.

  All through the ceremony and dinner Gretchen had wondered what the future would hold for her. Would she ever walk down the aisle as a bride instead of a bridesmaid? Would John be the one waiting for her? She should have been thinking about her friends, but she was lost in thoughts about what it would feel like to know she was truly loved and not simply being used.

  When John mentioned catering the wedding, at first she hadn’t been sure about it. She’d told him she would help, but secretly Gretchen hadn’t thought he should do it. It seemed too soon. Gretchen was happy to see how wrong she had been. He handled the pressure beautifully and came through on every promise made. It was Gretchen who hadn’t been ready. Fear John would find someone better, as he became more independent, was the real reason behind her lack of faith.

  Gretchen had no other reason to doubt him. John had done amazingly well so far. He was determined to make his new life the best it could be. Gretchen had feared she wouldn’t be included in it. Worry still hung in the back of my mind, but his words sent much of it away. John loved her. She loved him. Gretchen couldn’t shake the euphoria, and she didn’t want to.

  Nestling against John even more, Gretchen got the response she wanted. He hugged her even tighter and kissed her forehead.

  “You know, I don’t think I ever told you how wonderful dinner was,” Gretchen said.

  “Which entrée did you have?” he asked.

  “The chicken Florentine. It was delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.”

  “I hadn’t either until I tested out the recipe,” he admitted. “I really liked it, though. I’m glad Melanie chose it.”

  Gretchen had argued with her mom before about her cooking ability, but in all honesty, she was useless in the kitchen. Her mom always said you only needed a recipe to be able to cook something. Gretchen knew it wasn't that simple. Her mom spent fifteen years trying to teach her how to sauté and poach things, but it never sunk in. John had taught himself in a few months how to cook anything and everything. He absolutely amazed her.

  “Did you like doing this, or was it too stressful?” she asked.

  “Oh, it was incredibly stressful,” John said, “but I loved it. I’m going to collapse when we get home and drown myself in TV for the rest of the night, but I had a lot of fun tonight.”

  She loved his enthusiasm. Exhaustion and the feeling she had done something good that day was how Gretchen felt at the end of every school day. She understood his sentiment well. The real test was whether he wanted to do it again.

  “So, how would you feel about catering a fiftieth anniversary party in two weeks?” she asked.

  “What?” John asked.

  Looking up at him, Gretchen saw the excitement in his eyes. She pulled him closer and kissed his lips before pulling back with a smile. “One of the wedding guests, a friend of Eric’s parents, needs a caterer for their anniversary party, and asked if you were available.”

  His excitement pulled their slow dance into something a little more bouncy than the music called for, but she didn’t mind at all. “What did you tell them?” John asked. He was trying very hard to keep from grinning. Gretchen giggled at his goofy expression.

  “I told them you would call them tomorrow to discuss it. I have their phone number in my purse.” Then Gretchen’s feet were pulled off the ground as John’s exuberant hug lifted her up.

  “I can’t believe how this is working out. I never thought I would be able to cook for a living. I started doing this just to find out something about myself. Who would have thought one party for your parents would lead to two real catering jobs?” John said. “Thank you, Gretchen.”

  “For what? This is all you, John,” she said.

  “Thank you for getting me here. I love you so much.” His pace slowed again, matching the music once more.

  The music may have been slow, but her heart was racing. Gretchen couldn’t get over hearing him tell her he loved her. She couldn’t even remember why she’d been worrying so much as she rocked back and forth in his arms. Instead of fearing what the future held, Gretchen was excited to find out.

  “If you keep getting jobs every couple of weeks you’re going to have to find someone who can help you. I’ll help as much as I can, but you know how awful I am in the kitchen,” she said. John didn’t argue that one. He just smiled.

  “Maybe you could get one or two of Mel’s nieces and nephews to help you out,” Gretchen suggested.

  Stiffening slightly, John coughed awkwardly, his eyes darting around the room. “Uh, yeah, I’ll think about that,” John mumbled.

  Now what was that all about? Gretchen wondered.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Misinterpreted

  Waking up on the couch the next morning with a stiff neck wasn't exactly the way John had imagined waking up next to Gretchen for the first time. The little square throw pillow he’d stuck under his head the night before while watching a movie had squished down, leaving his head in a very awkward position. Gretchen, however, was sleeping comfortably as she used his arm for her pillow. Unfortunately, her comfort left John’s hand completely numb. Regardless of his discomfort, he wasn't about to move.

  Shifting slightly, John turned onto his side and draped his free arm around Gretchen’s waist. She smiled in her sleep and leaned against him. The scent of her hair filled his senses. John loved the smell of honeysuckle and jasmine simply because it reminded him of her. He was half tempted to suggest planting honeysuckle vines in the backyard so he could smell them when she was at work.

  Not that John had to worry about her being gone during the day for a while with school out for the summer. That thought made him pull Gretchen even closer. Gretchen already had a million ideas about what they could do during her break. Apparently there were mountains nearby, rivers, hiking trails, sandstone monuments, and half a dozen other things she couldn’t wait to see. Having someone to do them with only made her more excited to start.

  John hoped his leg could keep up with her. Thinking about his leg brought the low ache it was radiating to the front of his mind. He wondered if that would ever go away. It was damaged so badly, John wasn't sure if it would. The physical therapy appointments he went to had taught him ways to strengthen his leg, but the physical therapist had warned him it would take time. That didn’t bother John at all. Lying with Gretchen made it feel as if he had plenty of time.

  Lifting his hand
to Gretchen’s bare shoulder, he stroked it slowly. Her soft skin responded to his touch, making Gretchen smile and subconsciously roll her shoulder in time with him. Leaning down so he could kiss her skin, John paused when his vision blurred. He still saw Gretchen beside him, but her skin looked different, paler. Then she rolled toward him, except she didn’t. John couldn’t feel her moving, but he could see her shift, and he suddenly realized what was happening.

  He wasn’t seeing Gretchen, he was remembering someone else.

  The woman from his memory turned to faced him, revealing the same dark waves of hair and heart-shaped face he’d seen the previous night. Her lips curled up in a smile, but didn’t speak. Reaching up to John, her lips pressed against his cheek and he could almost swear he felt her touch. John could feel his own mouth warming into a smile despite his disbelief. The memory woman laid back down, blurring his vision again and leaving Gretchen in her place.

  An intense shiver ran through John’s body as he stared at Gretchen’s sleeping form. He knew she hadn’t actually gone anywhere, but he felt cold instead of being warmed by her touch like he should have been. He’d seen the woman three times now. Each time the memory seemed to last longer than the one before. She was familiar, but not familiar enough for John to know who she was. She was in his arms, but why?

  Dr. Sanchez had told John to call her if he remembered anything at all. That would undoubtedly mean Gretchen finding out about the flashes, and that was not something he wanted. There was no way he could tell Gretchen. It was only a few brief memories popping up, lasting barely a few seconds. And only about this one woman.

  In that brief moment of seeing her John felt amazed and happy like he did when he was with Gretchen, but it faded as soon as the memory ended and was quickly replaced by anger. Where was this woman now? If she had cared about him like she seemed to, why wasn’t she there? John couldn’t bring himself to believe anyone who had been a part of his life wouldn’t have known where he was and been able to find him. Maybe the woman hadn’t been involved with John in a very long time, but if she had been, the only reason he could see for why she hadn’t found him was because she didn’t want to.

  Gretchen yawned and rolled toward John.

  “You know, I think this is the first time since you starting cooking that I haven’t woken up to the smell of breakfast,” Gretchen said before yawning again. “You must be slacking.”

  Refusing to think about the memory woman for another second, John leaned down and kissed Gretchen. “I guess I’ll have to remedy that,” he said.

  Gretchen pulled him closer before he could move, not that he really wanted to. “Not yet. I’d rather have you than breakfast.”

  “Oh really?” John asked, rolling and hovering over Gretchen.

  Gretchen’s cheeks colored despite having made the teasing comment on purpose. John was tempted to push a little further, but instead he just smiled. Maybe telling Gretchen he loved her had brought her a step closer to really letting him in, but the strange memories popping into John’s mind had moved him a step back. Well, not really a step back, he was pretty much committed to Gretchen, but the memories made him want to slow down. At least until he figured out what was going on with his mind.

  Thankfully, Gretchen didn’t seem to mind his hesitancy. She reached up and kissed John lightly. “Actually, why don’t we go out to breakfast?”

  “I don’t mind making breakfast,” John said.

  Shaking her head, she smiled. “You don’t have to remind me how much you love to cook. I live here too, remember? But everybody needs a break once in a while. Let’s go out, relax, and let someone else do the cooking today.”

  As much as John loved being in the kitchen, going out actually sounded nice. The last two weeks had been all food, going over menus, testing recipes, prepping foods, and actually doing the cooking. A break would be good. Nodding his agreement, John pulled back from Gretchen, giving her room to get up.

  She stood up and her leg bumped against the coffee table, knocking an envelope onto the floor. Picking it back up, she was about to toss it back onto the table when she stopped mid-throw. She pulled the envelope back and peeked inside, seeing the cash it held. It was the money Eric and Melanie paid him for catering their wedding.

  Eric hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of having to pay John in cash, but it proved necessary. John still had no identity, which made it impossible to get a social security card, driver’s license, ID, anything that would allow him to get a back account. Without a bank account, or even an ID to prove he was the person a check was addressed to, a check with John’s name on it would be completely useless.

  Of course, they could have always written the check out to Gretchen, but for some reason she didn’t want them to. John thought she wanted to make sure John knew the money was his, that he had earned it. Maybe she knew how much he felt like he was in her debt. Or maybe she wanted to make sure he felt he was really becoming his own person. Either way, he appreciated the gesture. Even if it did leave him with a bunch of cash lying on the coffee table.

  “What do you want to do with this?” Gretchen asked as she handed John the envelope.

  “What do I want to spend it on?” John just shrugged. He had been so consumed with getting through the wedding he hadn’t even thought about it.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Gretchen said. “What do you want to do with the cash? Giving it a permanent home on the coffee table probably isn’t a good idea. We need to put it somewhere.”

  John hadn’t thought about that either. “Um, I don’t know. I hadn’t really considered it,” he said. They were back to the problem of him not being able to have anything in his name. John loved Gretchen for wanting to build his confidence, but when it came down to practicality they needed a more substantial plan.

  “Well,” he said, “what do two people who live together and love each other usually do with their money?”

  For some reason Gretchen blanched and looked down at the floor. “I don’t really know,” she said. “The topic never came up between me and Steve.”

  That probably said something about how much Steve really cared for Gretchen when they were dating, but John suppose she already knew that.

  “What about with your boyfriends before? Did you ever combine your money?” John asked.

  “I didn’t really have any other serious boyfriends before Steve,” Gretchen said.

  John found that really hard to believe. Gretchen picked up on his skepticism.

  “Seriously, John. Steve was my first serious boyfriend. I dated in high school. I had fun, but it was never very real or long lasting. I scared all the guys away,” she said.

  “Why on earth would anyone be scared of you?” he asked. Gretchen would practically have to beat guys off with a stick to keep from having them ask her out constantly. She was beautiful, not to mention kind and funny. “Wait,” he said, “does this have something to do with your name? Gretchen…”

  His voice trailed off. It frustrated him that she had such a problem with her name, but who was he to judge? He got to start over with a clean slate while she was still working on overcoming some of the difficult parts of her past. It wasn't John’s place to tell her how to react to her life.

  “I know you don’t understand this. I told you how miserable I was growing up with my name. Millie dealt with it by reinventing herself and becoming more outgoing than she usually was. I…I just pushed people away so I didn’t have to hear them mocking me,” she said. “I know it’s petty that I cared so much, but I did. It wasn't until I left the small town I’d grown up in and went to college and realized nobody cared who I was or what my name was that I finally started putting myself out there again.”

  “When did you meet Steve?” John asked.

  “The beginning of my junior year.”

  “And in two years you never once talked about money?” Was that normal? He didn’t know for sure. Two years seemed like a long time. But maybe that was because John really only
had a few short months to gauge time by.

  “We never really talked out about anything besides what parties we were going to and how his family’s business was doing, actually,” Gretchen said. “But Steve obviously never loved me, so I don’t think my relationship with him is a very good one to model. Besides, I don’t want to talk about Steve right now. I want to talk about your money. What do you want to do with it?”

  “Would it be weird if I just gave it to you? Have you put it in your account?” he asked. “I’m really not that worried about it.”

  Pacing in front of the couch, Gretchen thought. The way her slender hips bobbed back and forth as she walked worked to hypnotize him. The thin band of bare skin between the hem of her tank top and the top of her pants begged him to touch her. By the time Gretchen finally spoke again, he had completely forgotten what they were talking about.

  “The problem is that you won’t be able to get to your money if you put it in my account because I can’t put you on my account without a name and all that,” she said. She was thinking about this very seriously, her teacher’s mind trying to solve the problem. Her determination made John smile.

  He reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her into his lap. “Why are you so concerned about this?” he asked. “We usually shop together or you give me cash beforehand. Why can’t we keep doing that? I like shopping with you. I can’t buy more than I can carry if I do go on my own since I can’t legally drive. Or if you’re really worried, just leave your debit card with me, or get a second one. Why does it matter so much?”

  “Because, I don’t want you to feel like you have to rely on me for everything. I want you to know you could leave if you wanted to and you’ll be okay on your own,” she said quietly.

  So that was it. Gretchen spoke about Steve rarely, but when she did she tried to do it in an offhand manner. John thought it was so he wouldn’t understand how much he had hurt her. John knew she loved him, but still she wanted him to know he had a way out. What did she fear? That he would leave?