Remembering Us (5 page)

Silence filled our apartment for the entire weekend after I asked about Adam’s parents when we were on campus. His eyes went cold, every muscle tightened, and when he declared it was time to go, I was already packing up the picnic, knowing that our walk down his memory-lane was over. He’s frustrating and his ability to shut down his emotions so quickly scares me as we try to maneuver around each other in the small apartment.

I felt like we were beginning to take a small step forward. I remembered seeing him the very first time, even if I didn’t know it was him. But as I sift through the memory of that day outside the library, and then the reminder of seeing Tyler’s black eye … I knew he was being honest. It made me hopeful that I could begin to trust him to be honest and help me through this. But yet, his ability to shut down so quickly afterwards felt like a slap in my face. Why won’t he answer questions about his parents? Or anything about himself? Besides the pictures on the wall, I know nothing about him and he doesn’t offer up much.

And every time I dream of him, he’s got his arms wrapped another girl while flirting with me. None of it makes sense.

I spent all week, while Adam was at work as an architect with a custom home building company, tossing around the idea of moving back home. But live with my parents again? It’s the only place I have to go, and I spent the first eighteen years of my life counting down the days to get out of there.

Regardless of my uncertainty, every time I’ve gone into our closet to grab my suitcase and pack up – to leave and get out before Adam knows I’m considering it - I stop.

Something continually tells me that staying in this apartment with Adam is the only way to get answers, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes me.

Dr. Jamison ushers us into her office five minutes late and we take our standard seats on the opposite side of her desk.

I begin filling her in about the assignment she gave me. Adam fidgets next to me the entire time while I repeat what he showed me, and what I remember, about the first time he saw me.

“So what did you think of what Adam showed you?” she finally asks when I’m done.

I shrug. “It was nice. I mean, I don’t remember meeting him, and I didn’t know he was the guy on the ground at the time, but I knew it happened as soon as he told me.”

“And did it help you trust him?”

Next to me, Adam nervously wipes his hands on his thighs. My fingers play with my messy bun piled on the top of my head.

“It did,” I start hesitantly, and then remember the dream of the second girl and my hands drop into my lap.

“But what?”

I turn to Adam, and for the first time hate all the uncertainty between him and me. It’s all twisted together like an elaborate spider web, and I’m caught with no way out.

“What is it, Amy?” Dr. Jamison’s voice shakes me out of my thoughts. I sigh.

“He’s always with a girl. Always. Whenever I dream, there’s always someone else that has his attention.”

I look away at the empty playground from out the window and feel just as lonely and abandoned as the rickety metal swings that never seem to get any attention.

“I can’t take back my history, Ames.” I close my eyes at his nickname for me. Every time he says it, I cringe, knowing it speaks of an intimacy we have that I don’t remember. “But I never cheated on you.”

The confidence in his voice makes me turn to him. His black hair is just long enough that it flips out over the sides of his ears, his chin and cheeks sport at least a day’s worth of growth. His eyes seem to pull me in, even when I try to look away from him.

I try to take him in just as he is, to move past this lost feeling and remember what he told me on the college campus. He looks the same as he did then, with such sincerity and honesty as he told me about the first time he saw me.

I smile at the thought. I did trust him. I believed him. Maybe it will help me trust him more with what he says to me in the future.

“Okay,” I whisper, but I feel something soften in me. Maybe I really did trust Adam and love him like everyone says. Maybe I just need to get to know him more and everything else will begin to make more sense.

Dr. J scribbles something in her notebook, allowing Adam and me this moment, however small it is, to savor a success.

“Favorite color?”

He flashes me a strange look as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“I just need answers.”

He pulls his eyebrows together for a second and then nods. “Blue, like your eyes.”

I press my lips together, hoping it will keep the blush away from my cheeks.

“Favorite band?”

He nods toward the car stereo. I don’t recognize the music, but I like it even if it’s different than the pop and dance music I normally listen to. Or did, I think, as I remember all the band t-shirts hanging in my closet.

“Radiohead. We saw them in concert last year when they came to Colorado Springs.” His eyes go hazy like he’s remember something, but I don’t ask. I don’t want to remember anything, or try to force myself today. I just want to see what it is we have in common. Why we’re together.

“Favorite place to visit?”

His smile fades and his eyes darken, but then he turns to me. “The cliffs.”

I don’t want to ask why his favorite place makes him sad. I tip my lips into a slight smile. “That’s
my
favorite place to go.” I found these secluded hiking cliffs when I was sixteen years old. Kelsey and I went there all the time. On the other side of the cliffs were these gorgeous waterfalls that Kelsey and I always talked about jumping off but were never brave enough to try.

He licks his bottom lip and smiles at me. “I know.”

I clear my throat. “Favorite memory?”

“That’s easy,” he says, and pulls the car to a stop outside our apartment building. He turns to me and picks up my hand. His thumb softly rubs against my knuckles, watching my eyes to see if I’m going to pull away, but I can’t. My arm sent sparks of fire though my entire body as soon as he touched me. I feel this burning sensation inside of me that, for the first time, I know isn’t fear. It’s attraction. It makes me uneasy and nervous, in a good way, at the same time. “The day you said yes.”

“Said yes to what?” My voice sounds scratchy. How is a simple thumb on my knuckles making my knees shake together?

Adam leans over and presses his lips gently against my hand. I pull it back, but he holds on tighter, smiling lightly and still looking at me. “To all of it.”

And then he gets out of the car and opens my door. I don’t know how long I sit there, still staring at the spot on my hand, waiting for the fire to stop burning.

Finally, I face him without getting out of the car. He frowns and holds his hand out to help me, but I shake my head.

“Take me to all the places we used to go.”

Martino’s Pizzeria is just a few blocks off campus. It’s a small restaurant with an outdoor deck, and the inside is bright and modern; not the usual red and white checkered tablecloth pizza kind of place. I like it immediately. Adam insists we order the MJ Special and Gyro pizzas, but I eye both of them warily when the beautiful waitress sets them down in front of us. Her black hair is pulled into a low ponytail that falls almost to her waist and she has the most exotic features of anyone I’ve ever seen.

“Thank you, Megan.” My eyes bounce back and forth between Adam and the waitress, and then I frown.

She offers us a friendly smile. “You’re welcome, Adam.” She turns to me and places her hand on my shoulder. Her voice is soft but kind. “It’s nice to see you, Amy. We were all worried about you.”

And then she walks away. I stare at her until she passes through the door to the kitchen, dumbfounded.

“I know her?”

Adam smiles and bites into the gyro pizza. Spiced lamb meat sounds, well, like something that shouldn’t be on a pizza in my opinion, but he insists I like it. “We come here a lot. She and her husband own the place. They’re pretty cool.”

“Gyro meat?” I ask again as I pick up a small slice with a crispy thin crust.

“Just try it.”

I take a bite and moan, instantly. Oh my gah – it’s like the best thing I’ve ever had in my entire life.

By the time I’m full, we’ve not only finished off both pizzas, but also devoured their peach dessert pizza. Dessert pizza? I might have to have it every day. And it has fresh fruit on it – so it’s healthy.

When we walk up to pay, a guy with spiky blonde hair comes out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a black apron wrapped around his waist. He walks right up to us and clasps Adam on the shoulder with one hand and shakes his hand with the other.

“Good to see you, man. It’s been a while.”

Adam agrees and then lifts his hand out to the side, introducing me. “You remember, Amy. Amy this is Joe, the owner.”

I offer up my hand to shake it, but I’m enveloped into a large warm hug with my hand captured in between us. My other arm falls limply to my side and I shoot Adam a wide-eyed look. “It’s good to see you’re doing okay, Amy,” Joe says when he pulls back.

“Thank you,” I mumble, slightly uncomfortable with the fact that I don’t know these people. Adam puts his hand on my lower back and I let him, but I still flinch slightly.

When Adam offers up his credit card to pay, Joe waves him off. “It’s on the house. We just hope we’ll be seeing our favorite customers around here more often.”

My eyes take in the restaurant while Adam and Joe make a little bit of small talk that I completely tune out.

From the corner of my eye, I catch something small shimmering from the ceiling in a corner booth. It looks like one of those wind catcher things I used to make in arts and crafts when I was a little girl, and before I know it, I’m standing directly under it.

It’s a small cluster of butterflies and their metal outlines seem as fragile as the real-life thing. I watch their wings moving slowly, probably drifting from the current of the air-conditioning. I can’t do anything but watch them, and I don’t know why.

But suddenly, playing in my mind like any other memory, it’s there. Visible.

I’m sitting in the booth, and Adam’s arm is around me. His thumb is making small circles on my bare shoulder and he wipes away a tear with his other thumb. I shake my head, upset and sad at the same time. I close my eyes, tipping my head back against the booth as Adam holds me. We don’t say anything, but when I open my eyes – I see them. The butterflies. A half dozen of them are swaying gently through the air. They look like a mixture of silver and diamonds and so real. So life-like. So free.

“I want to be like them,” I say quietly, not moving my eyes from the butterflies. “I want to be free.”

“Amy?” I jump at the sound of Adam’s voice. He has his hand out like he’s about ready to touch my shoulder, but I pull back, out of his reach. A memory. My first memory while I was awake. I look up at the butterflies and they still seem so real. Just like I remembered.

“We sat here.”

Adam looks to the booth where I had seen us sitting, him comforting me.

He nods, seeming unsure of what to do or what to say. Was that real? I’m sure it was. I know it was by the way Adam is looking at me - full of hope and yet fear at the same time.