Memory's Edge: Part One (26 page)

He could
only hope he was making the right choice.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Rushing Back

Walking
into the lobby of the hotel, Gretchen could barely contain her excitement. The
grand foyer was incredible. John thought he should have been impressed by it as
well, but something seemed vaguely familiar about it. He didn’t have time to
contemplate it, though, because Gretchen pulled him up to the concierge desk
with an excited bounce. The woman standing behind the desk greeted them warmly
then asked if they had reservations.

“John
Palmer and Gretchen Gesner,” Gretchen said.

The woman
typed it in and then looked up with an extra pleasant smile. “Guest of the
Today show? How exciting,” she said. “Do you mind if I ask what you’re going on
the show for?”

“No, of
course not,” Gretchen said. She spent the next few minutes telling the woman
their story as they waited for their keys and the packet of information the
Today show had sent over for them. They left the woman behind with a dreamy
look on her face.

Carrying
their bags to the elevator, John watched Gretchen excitedly pore over the
papers and wished he could cast off the nagging sense that he knew this place.
Ever since stepping onto the first plane, John kept getting the feeling they
should turn around and go home. Feeling as though he had been in this hotel
before, or at least that he was familiar with this type of hotel, was only
compounding his unease.

“There are
reservations for us at the restaurant downstairs at eight o’clock,” Gretchen
said. She glanced at her watch to check the time and nodded. They had plenty of
time. She went back to her reading and groaned.

“What?”
John asked.

“We have to
be at the studio by four o’clock in the morning,” she whined.

“See, I
told you we should have stayed home.” John smiled as he said it, but he hoped
for a miracle. No such luck.

“For this,
I can get up early,” Gretchen said. “Aren’t you excited?”

The
complete opposite, actually, but he didn’t say that. “Uh, sure. Just nervous, I
guess.”

The
elevator opened at their floor and he followed Gretchen to their room. Pushing
open the door, Gretchen bounded in and flopped onto the plush, king-sized bed.
“I’ve always wanted to stay in a hotel like this,” she said.

Lying on
the bed with her golden hair fanned out around her, she smiled and stole away
all John’s apprehension. Nothing could take him away from her. Crawling onto
the bed, he hovered over her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Even if by
some bizarre chance the memory woman found him because of this interview, he
couldn’t go back to her. Married or not, Gretchen was his life now. Nothing
could change that.

Lowering
himself to press against Gretchen, he kissed her passionately, almost
forgetting the boundaries he had put on himself. For a brief second, nothing
else mattered except that she was in his arms. John kissed her again. Her hands
wound through his hair, pulling him closer.

A sharp rap
on the door halted everything. Groaning, John rolled off Gretchen and went to
the door to pull it open. A whole crew of people stood waiting.

“Uh, can I
help you?” John asked.

“Lana Goodman,
from the Today show. We need to get a few pictures for the promos,” she said.
John just stared at her. “You are John, right? The amnesia guy?”

“Yeah,
sorry, come in. I just wasn’t expecting anyone,” he said.

“Well
normally we do this a lot earlier, but apparently this whole thing was only set
up yesterday, so here we are,” she said. “Can we come in?”

John moved
aside to let her through, and ten people piled into the room after her. It was
a good thing they had such a big room. One of the makeup artists grabbed
Gretchen and plopped her into a chair so she could begin her work. John was
about to ask Lana a question when another makeup artist latched onto him and
started smearing something all over his face. It felt greasy and weird, but the
guy was working too quickly for John to have any time for questions or
complaints.

While he
was working, another woman held up pieces of clothing next to John and
Gretchen. Based on reasons John didn’t understand, she eventually chose one
shirt for each of them and as soon as the makeup artists were done they sent
John and Gretchen into the bathroom to change with a warning not to mess up
their makeup.

“How on
earth am I supposed to get this on without messing up my makeup,” Gretchen
asked. She held up a silky blouse with a questioning eye. “They should have
picked a button-up shirt if they wanted me to keep from touching my face.”

Turning
away from John, Gretchen took off her t-shirt and tossed it aside. Putting on
the new shirt was forgotten as John stepped up behind her and slid his arms
around her bare waist. Leaning down, John kissed her shoulder, making her
shiver. She sighed as she looked at the bathroom door.

“I know,”
he said. “They’re waiting for us.”

John forced
himself to back off, but he watched as Gretchen carefully brought the blouse
over her head and let it drop down, covering her sweet-tasting skin once again.
Now it was his turn to sigh. Why did the crew have to show up right then?
Rushing through the motions, John stripped off his own t-shirt and buttoned up
the dress shirt he’d been given. Gretchen watched him hungrily, making John
want to lock the door and let the crew outside wonder what had happened to
them.

Unfortunately,
Gretchen opened the door, and the crowd of people grabbed them again. “Okay,”
Lana said, “we’re going to get some photos of you so we can run some promos
before your interview to get people excited about your story, which is amazing
by the way. You’re going to have every single woman in America looking for her
own battered soul to save by tomorrow.”

“I know I
will be,” mumbled Lana’s assistant.

“One of the
hosts heard a couple of segment producers talking about you guys and she loved
the story so much she said she wanted you guys on the show,” Lana said. “And
what Anne wants, Anne gets.” Lana nodded to somebody and then looked back at
us. “Okay, Andrew here is going to do the photos, and it looks like he’s ready,
so just do what he says.”

An hour
later, the crew had apparently gotten enough photos of them to work with and
began packing up their supplies. John and Gretchen changed back into their
regular clothes and went out get final instructions from Lana.

“You need
to be at the studio by four a.m. tomorrow,” Lana reminded us. “There will be a
car waiting for you downstairs at three-thirty. Gretchen, don’t worry about
doing your hair or makeup. We’ll do it for you. And wear whatever you want
because we’ll have you change when you get there. One of the producers will be
there to explain how the interview will work and when you’ll go on. Any
questions?”

Gretchen
and John just looked at each other.

“No? Good.”
Lana motioned for her crew to head out. “Get to bed early tonight. You don’t
want to have bags under your eyes in front of a couple hundred million people.”

That was
when the fear came rushing back full force.

Chapter Fifty

Him

“Yeah, we
got in to New York last night with no problems. The kids slept through most of
the flight. Thanks for the suggestion to take the red-eye, by the way.”

“You bet,
Corey. I’ve flown with little kids before. It’s a nightmare if they’re not
asleep.”

Pressing
the phone between her ear and shoulder, Corey poured sugar into her cup of tea.
Hazelnut and chai floated up to her, lifting her tired spirit. She was
exhausted, but she was determined to make the trip amazing enough to take hers
and the kids’ minds off everything.

“Are you
okay?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah, I’m
fine,” she said. “It’s just been a long year, you know?”

Sarah sighed.
“I know, honey, but you’re doing the right thing. The kids didn’t need to be
hanging around the house right now. A couple weeks on vacation will be good for
them. They need something to distract them.”

“I know.
They’re excited to go to the museum and see the Lion King on Broadway later
today. I think I’m the one having the hardest time with this. Part of me wants
to be home. I feel like I’m hiding here in New York,” Corey said.

Looking out
of the kitchen, she saw Michael and Sasha playing on the floor in the sitting
room. Sasha played with her favorite baby doll, caring for it like only a
two-year-old little girl could. She smiled and rocked the baby back and forth
as she sang it the lullaby Corey sang to her every night. Michael smashed his
toy cars together a few feet away, completely oblivious to his singing sister.
Four year olds were amazingly good at that.

Sometimes
they still cried, but for the most part they were adjusting much better than
Corey. They were too little to really understand. Maybe that was better. It was
better they didn’t hear the whispers and gossip she couldn’t avoid. Corey
didn’t want them to forget, though. That seemed like a betrayal.

“Part of me
thinks I should have stayed.”

“You need
to move on. You know that.”

“But, I
don’t know if I can. I keep hoping,” she said as a tear fell down her cheek.

“This is
exactly why you need to be away from home for the next couple weeks,” Sarah
said. “Just have some fun with the kids. Show them that you’re doing okay.”

She was
right. Corey knew she was, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.
“Thanks for making me do this, Sarah.”

“That’s
what I’m here for, honey. Call me as often as you need to,” she said. “I wish I
could have come with you for support, but we were already committed to taking
Alan to visit colleges over spring break.”

“Don’t
worry about it. Just because I can’t move on doesn’t mean everyone else has to
put their lives on hold,” she said. Sarah had already done so much for her over
the last year. She felt so indebted to her she knew there was no way to ever
repay all her help and support. The least Corey could do was take her kids on
vacation without dragging her friend along to coddle her.

“You can do
this, Corey,” Sarah said.

Wiping away
her tears, Corey stood up taller, trying to convince herself she was strong
enough. “I can do this,” she said. “It’s time to move on.”

“Good for
you, honey. Just keep thinking that,” Sarah said. “Oh, and if you go to Ellis
Island, Gracie wants you to bring her back a replica of the Statue of Liberty.”

Laughing at
her precocious little friend, Corey was glad she had her around to keep her
laughing. “And what about Alan,” she asked, “does he have any souvenir
requests?”

Sarah
snorted. “Alan said he’s too old for souvenirs, but if you happened to go to
the Hard Rock Café, he wouldn’t object to you bringing him back a pair of
drumsticks.”

“I’ll
remember that.” Alan was trying so hard to be all grown up, but they all knew
he was going to miss his parents and little sister when he left for college.

“Michael,”
Sasha yelled, “no! Stop! Bad!”

Michael
laughed at his sister and rammed his car into her doll again.

“Michael,”
Corey warned, “leave your sister alone.”

Sticking
his tongue out at Sasha, he moved a few feet away and continued to bug her by
almost
hitting her doll with his car. Corey sighed at his obnoxious behavior, but even
that was a good thing after everything they had been through. It showed they
were adjusting to the way things were.

“Well, it
sounds like you need to go wrangle some kids,” Sarah said. “I’ll let you go,
but call whenever you need to.”

“I will,
Sarah. And thanks for everything,” Corey said. She was about to end the call
when she remembered she needed to tell her where the dog’s treats were. “Oh,
Sarah, when Gracie goes over to pick up the dog—”

That was as
far as she got before the kids starting yelling.

“Mommy!
Mommy! Mommy! It’s Daddy! He’s on TV!”

Her heart
stopped and she couldn’t breathe.

“Corey?
What’s going on?” Sarah asked.

She couldn’t
answer. Walking into the room, Corey felt as if she were moving through honey.
It couldn’t be true. The kids had made the mistake before, but they kept
yelling it over and over again. “It’s Daddy! It’s Daddy!”

Daring
herself to hope, Corey looked at the TV. There was his picture. The host was
babbling about something, but all she could do was stare at the screen.

“Sarah,”
Corey whispered, “
it’s
Alex. He’s here in New York.”

Sarah
didn’t say anything for a moment. “Corey, are you sure?”

“Turn on
the TV to NBC. They just showed his picture on the Today show,” she said, her
voice trembling so badly she wasn't sure Sarah could understand her.

“The Today
show? Why would Alex be on the Today Show?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t
know,” Corey snapped, “just turn it on. It’s him, Sarah, it’s him.”

“It went to
commercial,” Sarah said even though Corey was staring at the screen already.

“Mommy,
where’d Daddy go?” Michael asked.

“I don’t
know, baby,” she said. Kneeling in front of the TV, Corey held her breath and
waited. Was she crazy? It couldn’t be him. Not after a year. Why would he show
up on the Today show suddenly? Maybe it wasn’t really him. The kids thought it
was him, too. The commercials dragged by so slowly.

Finally,
the Today show logo reappeared and the host sat on the couch telling all the
viewers what stories were coming up in the next few hours. As she named them
off, pictures of the people or products involved popped up at the bottom of the
screen.

“And a last
minute addition to today’s show is a man whose story of triumph over adversity
to find love again will amaze you. We’ll meet John and Gretchen at the end of
this half hour,” Anne said. She went on to say something else, but Corey was
transfixed by the photo of
her
Alex sitting next to a blonde woman.

“I can’t
believe it,” Sarah whispered, “it
is
him.”