Memory's Edge: Part One (9 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Fairytales and Fights

Gretchen
stalked across the grass right up to Carl. She couldn’t believe he was doing
this. At least the news van had already pulled away. Being on the news
screaming at her neighbor was the last thing she needed. Although, Melinda
would have loved the follow up. First Gretchen was this kind and caring woman,
then she was a total nutcase. Gretchen really didn’t need that right now. She
didn’t need Carl fighting with her in her front yard about John again, either.

“What,
Carl?” Gretchen demanded.

“What the
hell was all that about, Gretchen?” he demanded right back.

“What are
you talking about? I told you two days ago that they were coming to do a story
about John. Don’t you remember standing right here, arguing about whether or
not it was a good idea, like I needed your permission or something?”

Was he
really that thickheaded? Gretchen wanted to slap him. She suspected it would hurt
her worse than it would him, or she might have actually done it. Instead, she
settled for jabbing him with her finger and saying, “This has nothing to do
with you. It was about John trying to find out who he is.”

“A story
about John, Gretchen, not about you and him meeting up like some kind of
twisted fairytale. What was that about your budding relationship with John?” he
asked. His arms folded across his chest, muscles tensed, trying to hold himself
back. He still looked as though he were about to explode in her face.

“Are you
serious? That’s what you’re mad about?” She didn’t have the energy for such
stupidity. “The reporter was only saying that to make it sound more interesting
to. I never said anything like that, and neither did John.”

“Oh really?
So she just decided you two were so cute and in love all on her own then?” Carl
asked, his emotions still boiling over.

“Yeah, she
did. She was trying to play to the camera and have something witty to say at
the end of her report. It didn’t mean anything. There’s no reason for her to
think that anyway,” Gretchen said. “I’m not in love with John, and I have never
claimed to be.” Why was she defending herself to him? Her personal feelings
weren’t any of his business. Despite his protective steak, he wasn't in charge
of her. Gretchen did not have to explain every choice she made to him.

“So you
don’t think you visiting John in the hospital all week and then letting him
live in your house, and feeding and clothing him, doesn’t make people think
that you’ve fallen head over heels for this guy?” Carl asked.

“Nobody
thinks that, Carl,” she snapped.

“Yes, they
do,” he said, his anger finally turning to hurt, giving away the true source of
his emotional outburst.

Gretchen’s
anger at him faded. He was the one who thought she was falling in love with
John. It wasn’t really about what the reporter said, but about the fact that
she’d said it where everyone could hear his personal fears. Maybe he thought
her saying it made it more real, confirmed everything he had been thinking.

“Carl,”
Gretchen said softly, “I’m not your girlfriend. I never have been.”

Carl looked
up at the sky and shook his head. “That’s not the point, Gretchen.”

“Yes it is.
I know you have feelings for me you wish I could return, but I can’t. John has
nothing to do with how I feel about you,” she said. “You’re a good man, and a
wonderful friend, but that’s it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s
just…it’s a bad idea, Gretchen, a really bad idea to fall for this guy,” Carl
said.

The
pleading in his voice broke her heart. In that moment, she would have given
anything to soothe his pain. She knew exactly what it would take to mend his
heart, and it was the one thing she couldn’t give him.

“I don’t
want to see you get hurt,” Carl said.

“What makes
you think John is going to hurt me?”

“Besides
the fact that he might be a murderer, one of these days he’s either going to
get his memory back or his family is going to come looking for him. And no
matter how much you’ve done for him, he’s going to choose them over you. He’s
going to break your heart.” Reaching down, he took Gretchen’s hand in his. “You
know as well as I do that he’s going to leave you in the end, and if you let
this continue, it will crush you.”

The
seriousness in his face was too much. Gretchen should have been angry at Carl
for sticking his nose into her life, yet again, but his honesty pierced
straight through her. Instead of storming off, Gretchen wrapped her arms around
him and pulled herself against him in a hug. He put his arms around her in a flash
and embraced her even tighter.

When
Gretchen pulled back, she looked up at him and held his eyes. “Carl, do you
think you’re telling me anything I don’t already know?”

Carl’s face
clouded in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I know
that the there’s a very good chance John will either get his memory back or his
family will find him. I have understood that from day one. I hope it does
happen, because I see how much it tortures him to think there’s nobody in this
whole world who cared when he was left for dead,” Gretchen said.

Would Carl
ever understand what she was saying? Gretchen wasn't even sure she understood
it herself. Her own feelings were as mottled as Carl’s. She knew she wanted to
help John, but how far could she let that go? Carl obviously saw a line she
shouldn’t cross. If Gretchen saw a line, it was too blurry to tell where it
was.

“I know
John will probably leave one day and go back to his old life, but I won’t leave
him alone right now. He needs somebody to care about him while he’s healing,
and I can be that person,” Gretchen said.

“It’s more
than that, Gretchen. Even if you don’t want to admit it, it’s there. I can see
it when you look at him. You want more than to be his friend,” Carl said.

He could
see it? Could John? Gretchen had to admit she could. She had refused to admit
it, even to herself, but she knew the desire was there. Being with John the
past few weeks, she saw what they could have together. She also saw the pain it
could cause. Gretchen wanted to be his friend and help him through this, but
she wanted more at the same time, and felt guilty for wanting it. In some ways,
it felt wrong to even consider letting her feelings for him surface when he was
already dealing with so much, but what if he felt the same? What if falling in love
took away some of his pain?

“Is it
really so bad if I want more?” Gretchen asked Carl, unable to look him in the
eye.

Carl shook
his head and frowned. “It won’t end well. You and I both know it won’t.”

“But
wouldn’t it be worth it?” she asked. “If I could be happy for a while with him,
wouldn’t that be worth the heartbreak later?”

“I don’t
know, Gretchen. I don’t think I can bear to watch him break your heart,” Carl
said.

“Maybe he
won’t break my heart,” she said quietly.

Carl’s frown
deepened and made her heart ache. Pulling Gretchen to him again, he said, “I
would never break your heart.”

“Carl …”

“I know
your reasons, but what I don’t understand is why you’re willing to give this
stranger a chance to love you, but you won’t give me one.” His voice was only a
whisper, but she heard every word. Unfortunately, she couldn’t give him an
answer. Gretchen didn’t think she even knew the answer to his question.

Chapter Seventeen

Worth It

John heard
the door open and maneuvered himself up off the couch, hobbling toward
Gretchen. “Are you okay?” he called out, still too far from the door to see
her.

“I’m fine,”
she said, but the strain in her voice made him limp a little faster.

John
rounded the corner and caught her leaning against the door brushing away tears.
He covered the last few feet to her in record time and brought his hand up to
her face. “Gretchen, what happened? Are you okay? What did that guy do?”

“It’s
nothing. I’m fine,” she said. She tried to move away from the door, but John’s
crutches had her trapped. She settled for turning away from him.

“Gretchen,
you’re not fine,” John said. “What happened?”

“
It’s
okay, John. Really.”

“Who was
that guy?” John asked.

Gretchen
sighed in defeat. “He’s my next door neighbor, Carl.”

“The huge
oilfield worker that has a big crush on you, and is very overprotective of
you?” John asked.

“You
remember all that, huh?” Gretchen said grimacing.

“How could
I forget?” The fact that there was the equivalent of an angry linebacker who
was ready to finish beating the life out of John living next door was pretty
hard to forget. “What was he so mad about?”

“Nothing. I
told you I could handle Carl,” she said.

“That
doesn’t look like what happened. If you handled him, why are you the one
crying?” She wasn't getting off that easy.

“How do you
know he isn’t crying even worse?” Gretchen asked. Her smile was forced, though,
and quivered at the corner.

“Gretchen
…”

“Just leave
it alone, okay? I don’t want to talk about it right now.” She pushed by his
crutch quickly and slipped away from him. He had to double-time it to keep up
with her, but he wasn't about to let her sneak away like that.

“He was mad
about me, right?” John asked. Gretchen didn’t say anything. “Gretchen, if me
being here ...” He didn’t get a chance to finish.

“Don’t even
say it, John. You’re not leaving,” she said forcefully. Then she blushed with
just as much force. “I mean, you can leave if you want to, I’m not keeping you
captive here or anything. I just mean that you don’t have to leave because of
what Carl thinks.”

John
started to say something but Gretchen cut him off again.

“And that
is the last we’re going to say on the topic, okay?” It wasn't a question. John
nodded and followed her to the kitchen.

Sitting
down at the table, John watched her pull a pair of cubed steaks out of the
fridge and set them on a large cutting board. Pulling a square hammer looking
thing out of her utensil caddy, she surprised John when she start whacking the
meat with gusto. The hammer fell again and again. The sound started
reverberating in his head, making it throb. John’s vision went dark and he
could suddenly feel blows landing on his skin.

“I think
you’ll like Swiss steak,” Gretchen said, banishing the bizarre pain as quickly
as it had come. “It’s one of my favorites, and one of the few things I can
actually make.”

“I can’t
wait,” he said weakly.

Gretchen
looked over at him, looking worried. “You must be exhausted by now. Why don’t
you go sit down in the living room and rest? I’ll let you know when dinner is
ready.”

Gretchen’s
couch was incredibly comfortable, but John didn’t want to go. “That’s all
right. I want to see how you make Swiss steak.”

She looked
as though she were going to argue with him. Instead, she nodded and put the
steaks into a large stew pot, pouring in tomatoes and various spices. Then she
was done. She turned the stove on and went to sit with John at the table.

“What did
you think of the interview?” she asked.

“It went
okay, I guess. That reporter was a little over the top.” Everything about her
was just too caring and compassionate. It felt very fake.

“Yeah, she
was,” Gretchen said. Frowning down at the table, John felt like he hadn’t given
her the right response.

Something
about the interview was bothering Gretchen. Or maybe she was still upset about
Angry Carl storming over after the TV crew left. John’s own thoughts suddenly
meshed together and came up with a new idea. Maybe she was upset about both.
Carl had come over right after the interview, looking ready to knock over a
house. Something someone said in the interview upset him, which then upset
Gretchen. What was it?

Most of it
was just facts, nothing to get angry about. Then John remembered the chipper
newswoman signing off as she talked about fairytales. She had been talking
about John and Gretchen. John hadn’t been listening much by that point, but he
remembered those words, thinking them intriguing and inappropriate at the same
time. With the bustle of the news crew leaving right after that, he had almost
completely forgotten about her comment. Adding up Carl and Gretchen’s tears,
John felt reasonably sure he’d discovered the root of what was bothering them
both.

“What
Melinda said at the end of the interview…
”

That was
all Gretchen needed. A clouded mixture of hope, anger, and sadness burst onto
her face. “What was she thinking, saying that?” Gretchen exploded. “She had no
right to make assumptions about our situation. And she said it on live TV! What
was she thinking?”

Picking his
words very carefully, John said, “So you thought it was inappropriate, too?”

“Of course
I did! She has no idea what kind of relationship we have,” Gretchen said, “and
neither does anyone else.”

John had obviously
hit the right mark. The fairytale comment had gotten under Carl’s skin. The
next question was why Gretchen was so upset about it. Was she angry the
reporter’s attempt to intrigue her audience had led to her argument with Carl,
or was she mad Melinda had inferred something she didn’t see at all. John had
to choose his next words even more carefully.

“Do you
know what kind of relationship we have?” he asked.

Gretchen’s
head swiveled around to meet John’s. Maybe he didn’t choose carefully enough.
Her shoulders suddenly released their tension and her face softened. “No, I
don’t,” she said. “Do you?”

“Me? No, I
have no idea.” John smiled and so did Gretchen. “Is that really such a bad
thing, not knowing?” he asked.

Sighing,
Gretchen rubbed her hands together. “I don’t think so, but …”

“Then what
does it matter?” John asked. Her frown said it did matter. “Is that what you
and Carl where arguing about?”

She
hesitated. There wasn’t any real reason she should trust John enough to open up
to him, but she did. “He thinks it dangerous for me to let our relationship go
any further than it already has.”

John’s own
fears of who he really was and whether or not he was a good person had been
banging around his mind since he woke up. He wondered if Carl saw something in
him that he didn’t. Did he really believe John would hurt her? “And why would
that be dangerous?” John asked

“Because he
thinks you’ll break my heart,” Gretchen said.

“What?”
John hadn’t been expecting that.

“If you remember
everything, or if your family finds you, you’ll leave.”

And crush
her.

“But, I
think it might still be worth it,” Gretchen said quietly.

Looking up
at her, John didn’t know what to say. What was she saying exactly? Did she want
more than the friendship they already had? John would be lying if he denied
thinking the same thing a million times since waking up, but was that what she
really wanted? John wasn’t sure himself that it was worth the risk. For John,
yes. He would take every moment with Gretchen he could, and if it ended with
him having to leave her behind, he would treasure every moment, even
through
the pain he knew he would feel.

Was John
willing to put Gretchen through that? She had already done so much for him, and
it seemed as though all he could give her in return was inconvenience and hurt.
Holding back meant denying her the happiness he was sure they could have
together. Was it even his choice?

“Are you
going to say something?” Gretchen asked.

Fear that
she’d just made a fool of herself shone in her eyes. John hadn’t realized he’d
been thinking for so long. Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his.
“I think it might be worth it too.”