Mind of Her Own (8 page)

“No memory. I think it’s just the ice cream.” Her lips resembled a ventriloquist’s as she tried not to move. “My head hurts worse than it has before.”

“I’ll get you a pain reliever.” He stood. He didn’t like how pale her skin looked. “Maybe you need the stronger stuff?”

“I think so. Get the one from the pharmacy, the good stuff,” she whispered.

Feeling more in control, he bounded off to the kitchen for her medication and a glass of water. He felt hopeful even though his wife was miserable. The doctor had said the headaches would get worse as her memory returned, and he thought the conversation about her mom just might be a clue. One he would explore even if it was painful for his wife.

He brought the pain pills and water to her, expecting her to reject the water like the last time. He felt some relief when she took it from him. She swallowed the pills with a sip from the glass.

He knelt on the floor again. “Do you realize you took your pills with water this time? Do you think your memory is coming back in small ways?”

“Collin, I feel horrible, and right now I don’t want to discuss my medical condition.”

He started to rise from the floor but halted when she reached out for him.

“Don’t go. I just don’t want to talk about me right now. Tell me about the trial you’ve been preparing for—or can you not talk about it?”

“I can’t share details,” Collin said, sinking back to the floor. He stretched his legs out in front of him. “I could tell you that my client is not guilty.” He grinned. “They never are.”

“Right. How do you defend someone when you think they might not be so innocent?”

“That’s what I’m paid to do.” He frowned. “Sometimes I don’t like my job.”

“So why are you doing it?”

“You know why.” At the confused look on her face, he swept his hand around the room. “For this—for the kids and for you.”

She rolled away from him. “Wrong answer. You’re doing it for you, not for me.”

He touched her shoulder. “You just said not for you—as in Jazz? Or Louisa? Is that what you meant?”

“Collin, leave me alone. You know I meant for me—Jazz. Please, I just want this headache to go away. Let me sleep.”

He nodded, and even though she wasn’t looking at him, he thought he might be on the right track. He would keep hounding her until her memory broke through, but maybe now wasn’t a good time. He reached over her, grabbed the throw to drape it across the back of the couch, and gently spread it over her.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Except for the white brick and gray siding, the house next door was a mirror image of the home Jazz had just left. Standing at the door, she paused before pushing the doorbell. Her stomach felt queasy. Maybe she should go back. Had she brought the right clothes for a sleepover? She had cotton pj’s in a backpack Madison had loaned her, but maybe she should have brought that cinnamon-colored satin lounge set hanging in the closet. She didn’t know.

The door opened, and Laurie’s bright, whitened smile welcomed her. “You’re here! Come in! I can’t believe you came! We’re gathering in there.” She pointed to the room at the right of the doorway.

“I’m here, but you have to help me. It’s going to be weird. They know me, but I don’t know them.” Jazz crossed the entryway and stopped, surprised at the appearance of the family room. Their homes seemed to have the same floor plan, but the house Louisa lived in had the touch of a decorator while Laurie’s house seemed to have been decorated for children. The windows Jazz loved in Louisa’s home were here, but they were covered in heavy fabric blocking the lake view.

“That’s why I had you come early. I thought you would be more comfortable if you didn’t walk into a room of women staring at you.” Laurie ran a hand through her tangled curls.

“Thanks, I appreciate that. So where do I know them from?” Jazz resisted the urge to clasp her hands in front of her.

“School. We met at our kids’ preschool. We started taking turns bringing all the kids home once a week.” She hovered against the doorway.

“All the kids? How many are there?” Jazz made her way to a denim sofa that rested in front of a wall-size television. She sank into the cushions and wiggled between two bright-red pillows.

“Just five. Which means once in a while you get the month off.”

“Five?” Jazz couldn’t imagine how she would handle that many children at once. She picked at a piece of Cleo’s hair embedded in her sweater. “Are they all boys?”

“Yes. It’s much easier that way. They like the same activities. Besides, it’s only four if you don’t count Tim.”

Babysitting five boys? She didn’t sign up for this, but apparently it was something Louisa did with ease, so now she was stuck with the job. “How do we get them home?” Jazz took in the crayon-colored pillows adorning most of Laurie’s floor space, along with picture books. Maybe she needed to brighten Louisa’s house, make it more kid-friendly.

“That’s the fun part. We all meet at school and put the car seats in the van of the mom taking them home. It’s quite a system, but we’ve managed to figure out what works the best.” Laurie plunked down on the sofa next to her.

“When do I have everyone?” Did she have time to arrange the family room for the kids to play in? The basement would be ideal, but Collin had been clear that it belonged to him.

“Louisa should have a calendar somewhere with all the dates that are hers.”

Jazz felt a slice of pain in her forehead. “I haven’t seen a calendar.”

“She has a notebook she keeps everything in. Maybe it’s in the van or the kitchen desk?” Laurie jumped up from the sofa. “I have my master list. Let me get it, and then we can figure this out.”

Jazz watched Laurie almost fly from the room. She didn’t blame her; she’d like to fly out of this room and back into her own life. What would she do with five little boys? She would have to ask Tim to help her and hope he didn’t lead her astray.

Laurie bounded back into the room, paper in hand. “You have next Tuesday.”

“Tuesday? So soon?” She managed to squeak the words.

“We could trade if you want. I have the week after. Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable by then.”

“Or maybe Louisa will return.”

Jazz noticed Laurie’s discomfort at her statement. “I know I’m supposed to be Louisa, but I don’t remember anything! It’s frustrating to be handed a life you know nothing about and then be told to live it. It’s like playing a board game, and you get the card where you have an instant family and responsibilities to fill.” She sank farther into the sofa. “It’s exhausting.”

Laurie dropped into a chair. “I can’t imagine waking up with a family to take care of. It’s much easier when the kids come one at a time and you can adjust to your life changing.”

The doorbell rang, cutting off any more deep conversation between the two as Laurie scurried to answer it.

Jazz listened to the lighthearted banter and giggles of the women at the door. It seemed they had all arrived together. As her foot began to tap the carpet, she squeezed her hands together, tensed her shoulders, then released the tension building inside her. Why did she care what these women thought of her?

“Now, remember, she doesn’t know she’s Louisa,” Jazz heard Laurie explaining to the women. “So introduce yourself and make her feel welcome.”

“But it’s so weird.” Even with the classic rock music Laurie had playing in the background, the loud whisper seemed to echo through the house.

Yet another voice drifted in. “Shh. She’ll hear you. Besides, I wish I could wake up and be someone else a lot of days.”

Jazz tightened her fists again and released them. She wished they would come in and get this over with.
Why wait for them?
She stood, deciding to forge ahead when she realized they must feel as strange about this as she did.

At the doorway, she paused and rested her hand on the doorframe. “So, Laurie, any food around here? Hi, everyone. I’m the strange woman who doesn’t remember who she is.” She grinned. “Maybe you all can fill me in on my life.”

“Food! Of course. Jill, can you help me carry in the trays? Tina, you stay and get to know our new friend, Jazz.” Laurie seemed relieved to give orders.

“Her gift is telling people what to do.” Tina held out her hand. “I’m Tyler’s mom.”

Jazz shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m grateful for Laurie’s gift. This way I can talk to you alone for a few minutes without facing so many new people at once.”

Tina’s face flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“I’m sure you didn’t. I didn’t take it as a condemnation.” Jazz smiled at her. “So we have maybe two minutes? Tell me what our friendship is like, please.”

“In two minutes?” Tina laughed. “We haven’t known each other long; this is my first year of being at this preschool. Louisa and I share an interest in reading.”

“What do you read?” Jazz loved to read, and now she’d discovered a connection to the woman she didn’t remember.

“Biographies of famous women, mostly; we call it our upper-class tabloid fix. We can’t get enough of other people’s lives. I just finished reading one about Jane Austen. I can loan it to you if you want to read it.”

Before Jazz could respond, the other women came in bearing trays of snacks. “We have everything kids wouldn’t eat and some things they love, like chocolate.” Laurie set the tray on the wooden trunk that served as a coffee table.

“So what’s the plan for the night, Laurie?” Tina asked. “Games, gossip, or girl time?” She turned to Jazz. “Girl time is my favorite since I have all sons.”

“How many do you have?” The politeness of the conversation had driven Jazz to the edge of screaming. Instead she flopped into a chair.

“Three, and Tyler is the youngest. He’s four and wants to be a meteorologist.”

“Just wait until you take him for the afternoon. The other week when I took him home, I learned about cloud formations.” Laurie plucked a grape from one of the bowls and popped it into her mouth.

“Isn’t there supposed to be someone else here?” Jazz asked.

“Nancy. She called earlier and bailed on us. Again.” Laurie dipped a cracker into the crab dip.

“We should tell her we had a great time, make up some grand thing, like, like . . . ,” Jill said.

“Right, there isn’t a ‘grand thing’ to make her feel like she’s missed something big,” Laurie sniffed. “I don’t throw a fun girls’ night out, I guess.”

“Maybe you need to have a penalty instead. Remember pajama parties and being afraid to go to sleep?” Jazz’s mind whirled with thoughts of past pranks.

Jill gasped. “What could we do?”

“TP her house?” Jazz reached into a bowl for a miniature candy bar. She slid her nail under the foil, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth. Then she noticed the clarity with which she could hear every word Madonna sang in the stillness of the room. The women stared at her.

“What?”

“You ate chocolate,” Laurie said.

“You never eat sweets,” Jill said.

Tina bobbed her head in agreement.

“Louisa might not, but I do. What a miserable person she must be if she doesn’t at least have chocolate in her life.”

“But you’re . . .” Jill’s voice faded as if unsure what to say.

“Louisa, so they tell me.” She unwrapped the gold foil on another miniature chocolate bar and popped it into her mouth as well.

“It’s so weird that you don’t remember.” Jill crossed her legs and slid her feet under her thighs. “Maybe we can help, if you want us to. We could tell you what Louisa is like.”

“I don’t know if we should do that, Jill.” Laurie squirmed on top of her stack of pillows.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Jazz said. “Collin thinks I should figure it out myself. I’ve been asking Tim for help. So far I know I exercise because I might get a fat fanny.” She stood and tried to look behind her. “I didn’t think I was in bad shape. Am I?”

“I wish I had your shape,” Jill said, tossing a pillow from the couch at Jazz.

“So what is Louisa like? What does she think about Collin?”

“I’m not comfortable with this, Jazz.” Laurie hopped off the cushions she sat on. “Anyone need anything from the kitchen? Another soda?”

Jazz reached out and touched Laurie’s arm before she passed her. “We’re fine, Laurie. I know you are Louisa’s best friend. Are you thinking you’ll be gossiping about her?”

“Sort of.” Laurie didn’t move. “It’s weird.”

“But it’s okay because what if you didn’t tell me anything, and you are holding the words to bring back Louisa’s memory?” Jazz felt guilty of manipulation. Maybe she did want to snoop into someone else’s life.

“You could be right.” Laurie sat back down on a bright-blue pillow.

“Great!” Jazz piled a plate with dip and chips, then settled back in her chair.

Jill started the discussion. “First, Louisa would never eat that stuff you have on your plate. She gets nuts if she gains a pound because she thinks Collin will leave her.”

Jazz halted the progression of chips to her mouth. “Would he?”

“I don’t think so.” Laurie reached across and patted Jazz’s hand. “Go ahead and eat the chips. Don’t worry about it because if Louisa returns, she’ll work off all the calories in a day.”

“What does she do for fun?” Jazz put the chip back on the plate; she didn’t want to think about the workout that would be required to remove what she had eaten in the last five minutes.

“I don’t think she knows how to have fun. She’s never done girls’ night out with us. She prefers to go to lunch because Collin isn’t home then,” Tina said.

“Why? Collin doesn’t want her to be gone at night?” Jazz began to feel uncomfortable about leaving him with the kids for the evening.

“I don’t know,” Jill said.

“Louisa is a good mother, right? She seems to be super organized, right down to what they have on Friday nights for dinner.”

“She’s a bit controlling,” Laurie said, then frowned. “Are you sure you want to hear this, Jazz?”

“Can’t you find something nice to say about Louisa?” Jazz felt a pain she didn’t understand, as if someone she loved had been hurt.

“Sure. I think she is an amazing cook, but she wouldn’t agree.” Laurie smiled. “She hosts the most incredible dinner parties for Collin’s clients.”

“And she has this almost magic ability to rearrange furniture. She made my living room look completely different without spending any money,” Jill added.

Jazz nodded. “Thanks. I knew the house looked as if a decorator had been there. And now I know she uses all those cookbooks in the kitchen.”

“She loves Collin and the kids a lot. She doesn’t seem happy, though, does she, Laurie?” Jill said.

“No,” Laurie answered, “she doesn’t.”

Jazz knew she didn’t want to hear any more from Louisa’s friends, not now, anyway. In fact, she felt kind of queasy, as if she had been caught looking in someone’s medicine cabinet. “So where does Nancy live?” Jazz grinned as she changed the subject. “Have any extra toilet paper, Laurie?”

* * *

The van slowed to a stop in front of Nancy’s house. Laurie killed the engine. “Still want to do this?”

“You bet.” Jill hiccupped. “I’m a bit—
hic
—ner—
hic
—vous.” Her comment brought on high-pitched laughter from the rest of them.

The side door slid open. The women stumbled from Laurie’s van, giggling like teenagers.

“Shh! You have to be quiet,” Jazz whispered, holding a finger to her lips. “We don’t want to get caught.”

They stood in a tight little group until the crickets returned to their nighttime sonnets.

“That’s better,” Jazz said. “Try to stay out of the beam of the streetlights, and remember not to squeal when you throw the rolls, or someone will hear us. Laurie, get the weapons.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Laurie offered a goofy salute and went to the back of the van. She opened the hatch and held out the first rolls to Tina.

“I think I’ll just watch.” Tina backed away.

“No way. We’re all in this together. Right, Jazz?” Jill whispered.

“One for all and all that rot,” Jazz said while grabbing her two rolls.

Tina stuck her hands deep in her jeans pockets and stepped back from the group. “I always tell my kids not to follow the crowd like sheep.”

“Come on,” Jill said. “We aren’t doing any damage. Have a little fun for once, Tina.”

Tina sighed and withdrew her hands. “All right, but I don’t like doing this.”

“Noted,” Laurie said. “You can pick the next activity.”

“Naysayers have to throw the first roll,” Jill said.

Laurie giggled. “She means you, Tina.”

“No way. I’m not going first.” Tina shook her head and faltered back.

“I’ll go first since it was my idea,” Jazz whispered. “Line up behind me. We have to get in and get out quick.”