Forget Me (Hampton Harbor) (25 page)

"What if I
don't
 belong
here," I blurt out. "What if this isn't right for me."

"I don't have answers for you, Jane. I can't have answers for
you, because they would all be selfish."

I nod even though he can't see me. "I don't have a child, you
know, I forgot to tell you last night. We gave him up for adoption."

Will doesn't respond but I know he is still there because I can
hear him breathing.

"Does Jason know about your recent pregnancy?" he asks.

"No, no one does. I don't think Marie even told my mom,"
I say.  "Tell me about the marina. Tell me about the cafe."

He does, and I grasp at the joy and excitement in his voice when
he talks about the bay, the boats, and the new special at the cafe. When we
hang up, I feel relieved that at least one of us is happy. At least one of us
is where we want to be.

Instead of walking
back home, I call Beth.

She answers on the second ring. “Miss me already? You saw me,
like, two hours ago.”

           
“Can
you come pick me up? I’m at the elementary school,” I say.

           
I
hear a small sigh. “Just call me a chauffer.”

           
She
pulls up fifteen minutes later and I climb into her car.

"Where to?" she asks.

"Somewhere we can talk," I respond. 

"Uh oh, this can't be good." She pulls out of the
parking lot and heads further south, past the high school and into an area I've
never been in before. We drive for twenty-five minutes before we reach another
town, one much larger than Clinton Hills.

"News travels fast in Clinton Hills, so if you have some
important secret to share, it will be safer here." She winks before she
climbs out of the car. We head into a small, locally owned restaurant and are
soon seated in the back corner. Brunch wasn’t too long ago, so we decide to
order dessert.

"So get it out, the anticipation is killing me," Beth
says after the waitress has taken our orders. Beth taps her fake nails on the
table with one hand, and twirls her blonde hair with the other.

"This might get a little long," I say and she just
stares at me, waiting.

So I tell her the truth. I tell her
every
 detail from Hampton Harbor, right down to dating Will
and sleeping with him. I even tell her about my ectopic pregnancy, which I
wasn't planning on doing but it feels right to share. When I'm done she leans
back in her seat.

"Damn Missy." She uses my childhood nickname, the one I
allow only her and my brother to use. "Is he hot?"

I groan and put my head in my hands.

"Sorry, completely inappropriate," she says. "Wow,
this is tough."

I groan again and she shoots me a confused look.

"I don't want it to be tough." I splay my hands out on
the table. "I want someone to give me a definite answer. I want to know
what I should do."

"As cliché as this sounds," Beth says, "I think you
should follow your heart, but I also think you need to give it time. You need
time to be
you
."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Well, you've been Jason's Melissa for a long time, since
basically eighth grade if you count that kiss at camp. More recently, you were
Will’s Jane. I think you need to work on getting your memories back, like you
have been, but without Jason or Will."

"Won't that be counterproductive?"

She shakes her head. "I don't think so. I think the more time
you spend with Jason, the more you think about the 'what ifs' with Will. If you
go running back to Will, you’re going to think about the 'what ifs' about life
in Clinton Hills. Right now, you’re messing with them and yourself."

I take a sip of my water. "My mom will kill me."

"She’s been threatening that for years and has yet to make
good on her words," Beth says with a grin, and then her expression
falters. "And Jason will kill me for hinting this. You need to talk to
him, really talk to him, and get him to tell you a little bit about the months
before you left."

I furrow my brows. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Look, just talk to Jason. Tell him that if he doesn't tell
you the truth by tonight, I will."

I just nod my head, suddenly unsure that I want to know what she
is hinting at. Our brownie sundaes arrive, and the conversation is lost.

When Beth drops me off at home,
it’s around seven at night. We did some shopping, since I have a new debit
card, and stopped so I could grab some groceries. Jason is watching a baseball
game on TV, and I move into the kitchen to put the food away.

           
“Where
did you go today?” He shouts toward the kitchen. It isn’t an accusing question,
he is asking me with genuine interest.

           
My
heart beats loudly in my chest.

           
“Out
with Beth,” I tell him.

           
Something
exciting happens in the game on TV, because Jason is hooting and clapping. I
put the food items away quickly and wipe my clammy hands on my pants. I step
into the living room and sit in the chair across from him.

           
“Jason,
can we talk?” I ask.

           
Even
though he seems into the game, his ears are fully attentive. His head snaps
toward me and I see the worry in his expression. He uses the remote to turn the
TV off and angles his body towards me.

           
“Sure,
Mel, what’s up?” He is trying to keep his voice even, but I can hear the waiver
in it. “Is this about the date tonight? We don’t have to call it that… a date,
I mean. We can just go out to talk.”

           
 
I hold up my hand to silence him.

"Beth
told me there are some things you need to tell me," I say.

He grunts. "I'm going to kill her."

"She said you probably would, but before you go running out
the door with intent to murder, I think you owe me some answers," I say.

He nods and I see his jaw working. His eyes drop to the floor and
he wrings his hands together. He finally stands and walks over to the long
table by the stairs, pulling open one of the drawers. He reaches into the back
and pulls his hand back out. Before he sits back down, he hands me a small
velvet bag.

I eye him cautiously and then undo the drawstring on the top,
dumping the contents into my hands. I almost cry out as I examine the objects
in my hand.

"My rings," I rasp. "But, they fell into the
ocean."

"Obviously not," Jason says. "You just assumed that
they did."

"Letting me make assumptions is still lying." I roll the
rings around in my hand.

"I thought you wanted to remember all of this on your
own," he retorts.

As I move the rings back and forth, and as I listen to Jason's
harsh tone, small bits and pieces come back to me. Loud fights in the kitchen,
Jason spending nights at his brother's house, Beth coming to stay with me on a
particularly bad night, sparse moments of reconciliation. Moments, which most
likely led to my latest pregnancy.

"I was pregnant." I look up at him. "Up until about
two weeks ago."

I'm not sure what Jason was expecting me to say after studying the
rings for so long, but by the look on his face, this definitely wasn't it.

"I didn't know while I was in Maine. I had
no
 idea. Then one afternoon I
started bleeding and collapsed. I ended up in the hospital, and had to have
surgery."

Jason is still in a state of shock. "I... I didn't know. If I
had known..."

"You what? Wouldn't have let me leave?"

"I might have at least come after you," he says to the
floor.

"Why didn't you, anyway?" I ask.

He rubs his eyes. "Mel, this is all so complicated."

"Uncomplicate it then. Just tell me the truth, flat
out." I lean toward him and pull his hands from his eyes. "I deserve
to know."

"When I start talking, you might already know." He
points out that my memories might come back when I hear this, and it’s just
what I need.

"We were—maybe still are— getting a
divorce." He looks me in the eyes as he says this, and I lean back in the
chair, the weight of his words hitting me full force in the chest.

"What?" I gasp.

"We filed the papers a few weeks before you left. On the last
day of school our lawyers called to have us sign more paperwork, and afterward
you just broke down. You packed a small bag and left, saying you needed to get
away for a while. I was living with my brother at that point, but after you
left I moved back into the house."

"Did my mom know?" I ask.

He nods. "You moved in with her over spring break. After she
figured out where you were, and had talked to your grandparents on the phone,
she brought all of your things back over. She said that maybe you would forget
all about the divorce, and that maybe things could work out. She couldn't have
a divorce tainting her family." He ends with a humorless laugh.

"Like her own," I respond. "Why did you go along
with it?"

He shrugs. "I didn't want to. I was planning to tell you as
soon as I got you away from Grace, but then I saw you at the airport. I could
tell you recognized me, but you looked at me with such innocence, and with out
the knowledge of what was going on. You look at me like you used to, back in
high school and college. It was like I had you back again, like I hadn't messed
up so many times, and like I wasn't losing you."

"Why were we—or are we—getting divorced? Did you
cheat on me?" I ask, and I realize that now I'm the one making
assumptions. For all I know, I cheated on him. I
have
 cheated on him, even if I didn't realize what I was doing
at the time.

"God no," he says quickly. "I would never cheat on
you, and you wouldn't cheat on me." He adds the last part for my sake.
"We... you got trapped, Mel."

"What do you mean?" I take a quick glance around the
room, eyeing each picture frame. Each happy memory feels like a lie.

"You never wanted to stay here. IU was the furthest your mom
would let you go to school if she was still going to pay for it. You always
swore that as soon as you graduated you were gone. You were going to move to
the coast and start a new life, out from under your mom's reign."

"But that all changed..."

"When you got pregnant," he finishes for me. "Your
emotions were all over the place during your pregnancy. Your mom was forcing a
wedding on us, and you threw yourself into the planning. I think that back
then, I was your safety net. You felt like you were losing your hopes and
dreams, and I was the one comfortable thing you could fall back into."

"We still could have gone away, couldn't we have?" I
ask.

"You changed after giving Ethan up. You let your mom boss you
around and applied for a job here in town right after graduation. I was happy
to stay, with my family and my friends here, and therefore didn't suggest that
move away. I held you back, and I regret it. So much."

His eyes appear glassy now, and I know he is on the verge of
tears. His face blurs and I’m on the same edge with him.

"We loved each other," I tell him. "I
remember."

"We did." He brushes a tear from under his eyes.
"We were crazy about each other, but then we started to grow up, and in
turn grew apart. You eventually came back to yourself; to the Melissa I knew
and loved before Ethan. You started to push back against your mom, and you
started to resent me. This past year, we've fought more days than we've been
happy I think."

I don't bother to brush away the tears, and instead let them roll
onto my shirt and soak the collar. I can picture the past year now. It’s all
hitting me at once, and just like that I realize that I have almost the full
extent of my memories back. Some things are still fuzzy but who doesn't
experience that in a normal day? It’s a struggle to remember twenty-five very
full years. 

I gasp and clutch my chest, and Jason moves off the chair and
falls to his knees in front of me. He takes my hands in his.

"I'm so sorry, Mel. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed.
We went to counseling for months. We tried, we really did."

We’re both crying now and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling
him close. I've been searching for closure since coming back from Hampton
Harbor, but I didn't expect to find it this way.

After a few minutes, Jason pulls back and wipes his cheeks. It is
hard to see him cry, and I know it’s only happened a handful of times since
we’ve known each other. 

"I originally thought we could try to work things out again.
You were remembering all of the good pieces of our relationship, and it was
making me remember them as well. I didn't feel as bitter anymore, or as angry
or sad. Then I started to realize that you would never truly be mine again.
Even when you’re remembering, your heart is elsewhere. Even your broken mind
knows that you don’t want to be here."