Unforgettable (8 page)

 
“No, I feel like making something. I’ll go see what’s in the fridge.” I walked past him into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. Hmm, I had plenty of vegetables and cheeses, but I was in the mood for Mexican food, maybe enchiladas. I opened the freezer and scanned the contents, I had ground beef, salmon, oh good, chicken breasts. I pulled out the bag and grabbed a couple of the bigger breasts out. Chicken enchiladas Suisse’s was one of my favorites, and it took a while to make, thereby killing two birds with one stone. I popped a couple into the microwave to defrost before Going to the pantry.
 
Score! I still kept my pantry stocked with all the essentials. I picked up everything I needed and set it all down on the counter. I reached up and grabbed the pans that I would use off of the pot rack over the island. For the first time since yesterday I felt a sense of normalcy. My whole body started to relax as I began chopping onions and garlic and heating up the chicken broth. I had been at it for a while when I heard Ethan come up behind me.

 
“Do you want any help?” My body shivered as I recalled my thoughts of just a bit ago.

 
I paused for a moment. I enjoyed cooking by myself, but I didn’t want to be rude to Ethan. I gave in to the offer since I didn’t want to be impolite. “You could grate the cheese,” I told him as I motioned to the fridge. “I need the Monterey Jack, oh and get out the sour cream as well.” I slipped into chef mode as I directed him to do my bidding. He opened the door and I heard the drawers sliding open as he gathered the ingredients. He looked over at me where I stood scraping the board off into the pan.

 
“Mmm. Suisse’s?”

 
“Yep. I felt like Mexican.” He set the items down and opened the cabinet in front of him. He pulled out the bowl I always used for mixing up the creamy sauce I poured on the enchiladas. “How did you know that I needed that bowl?” I asked him curiously.

 
“You always use this bowl. Actually,
I
always use this bowl because it’s alway
s my
job to mix up the sauce.”

 
I stared at him for a moment. Just how many times have we stood here making this dish together? Obviously he had done this enough times to recognize the dish by the ingredients. No one ever helped me cook in my home kitchen. This is where I come to relax. I never even liked John to be in here when I cooked us dinner. I didn’t mind Carrie so much, she just sat on a stool at the island and talked to me, but to have Ethan be so familiar and me not actually minding that much was peculiar.

 
“Uh, then I guess you know what to do,” I said lamely. He reached over to grab wooden spoon from the container in front of me. He smelled amazing. The combination of his cologne and his manliness, mixed with the smells of the kitchen were like a trinity of awesomeness.

 
He took the grater out of the drawer and started on the cheese. I couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his forearm. They were taut and well defined, but not bulging like some weight lifter or something. Mmm. I pulled myself out of my momentary daze and got back to work on my food.

 
Before I knew it, I was popping the pan of enchiladas into the oven. Ethan and I had worked mostly in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It would have been harder for me to try and make conversation. I was just giving myself a mental break and concentrating on my dish.

 
I started cleaning up the huge mess that always accompanied this recipe, and that’s when it happened. I was standing at the sink and rinsing out a bowl and I turned to pick up the dish cloth from the counter and found myself chest to chest with Ethan. I wasn’t wearing a bra so as soon as my nipples scraped against him they stood to attention. I don’t know what made me do it, but I pressed my face into his chest and sniffed his shirt. It smelled so good that I leaned in closer, until my forehead was up against him. He let out a quiet moan and I jerked my head back.

 
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, appalled at myself. My blush of earlier had nothing on my flaming cheeks now. I busied myself with the bowl again and waited for him to step away, but he didn’t. I scooted over to the side, just enough to break contact with him. I had to get myself under control. What the heck did I just do? Did I actually
sniff
him? Oh god, what am I doing with him? He’s too young for me. I’m like some cougar. Well, no, I’m not that much older than him, maybe more like a bob cat.

 
What had possessed me? I stood there in acute embarrassment until he reached forward and touched my arm. “I like it when you smell me. You do it a lot. It’s one of your things.”

 
One of my things?
Do I now go around sniffing on people? What kind of freak have I become? I must have looked horrified or something because he stepped closer. “I love it, actually.” He leaned down to me as I stood there like I was hypnotized. His lips were on mine in the next second and I felt an electric jolt go from my lips to my chest to my belly button. I didn’t even think as I opened my mouth to him. He put his hand on the back of my head and held me close. I was lost in sensation until I dropped the metal bowl I still had clutched in my hand, and it clattered into the sink making me jump and break the kiss.

 
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. That felt good. It felt like a first kiss, with my stomach tingling, but it also felt comfortable. I realized I was holding my breath, so I dragged in some air. Wow, he’s a good kisser. I needed to step back and look at this situation. For all intents and purposes, we hadn’t even gone on a date yet. It was like if someone you kind of know and are talking with starts kissing you out of the blue. You’re surprised, even taken aback, but in the back of your mind you’re thinking “Hmm. I wondered what kissing him would be like.” If it’s someone good looking you might even take the thought further and imagine sex. Or maybe that’s just me.

 
Anyway, I did the only sensible thing I could do in this situation--turned tail and dashed out of the kitchen. I know it was cowardly, but I couldn’t care. I just had to get out of there. I got to my bedroom and shut the door. I flopped down on the bed and tried to bring my breathing back to normal. It wasn’t working. Even in here I was confronted with Ethan.

 
There was a picture of the two of us on the night stand, next to the old fashioned alarm clock. A button down shirt was tossed over the chair in the corner. The comforter on the bed was also not as I remembered. It was brown like my old one, but it was a lot darker and puffier. I closed my eyes and tried to get my bearings. Okay, so kissing Ethan wasn’t such a bad thing. What was I freaking out about? Sure, it was all new, but it wasn’t
bad
. I could, in some alternate reality, see myself possibly becoming involved with him. Unfortunately, I was in
this
reality. The reality where I was a thirty two year old blogger with amnesia and Ethan was my best friend’s little brother. Well, younger anyway, he was definitely larger than Carrie.

 
So I sat there for a while, feeling sorry for myself. I felt sorry about not working at the restaurant, I felt sorry about hurting Ethan’s feelings, but mostly I felt sorry about having no memory of the past two years. I couldn’t remember the good times or the bad. I looked over at the clock. Shit, the enchiladas would be ruined. I jumped up and hurried into the kitchen only to be met with a pan of perfectly cooked enchiladas sitting on the stovetop. I skidded to a stop and stood there. The kitchen was spotless. Ethan had scrubbed the pans, done the dishes, and put everything away. So, apparently he was some perfect guy, he cooks, he cleans, he’s helpful, and most importantly, he’s hot. Well, maybe not most importantly, but it’s pretty darn important to me. So yeah, he looks good on paper, but if everything’s so awesome, why can’t I remember living with him? It all came back to that.

 
I went to the pantry; I was craving some Mexican rice to eat with the enchiladas. I grabbed a jar of my favorite salsa to pour in and pulled down a pot. I hadn’t even opened the bag of rice before Ethan was back in the kitchen. I looked up from the stove and met his eyes.

 
“Thanks for cleaning up and for saving lunch.”

 
He nodded. “No problem. I’m sorry about earlier. I promised myself that I would give you time, but you leaned into me and I … well, I’m sorry.” He remained standing where he was so I went back to measuring out my rice. I wanted to pretend everything was normal, but inside I was in turmoil. When were things going to be right?

 
I put the lid on the pot and turned on the burner. He was still standing there. I guess he was waiting for me to say something else, but I had nothing. I looked at the clock on the stove, twelve thirty. Carrie would be here soon. That would take some of the pressure off, I hoped.

 
“I hope Carrie is hungry.”

 
“She is. She called me while you were resting.” I appreciated the fact that he said resting as opposed to hiding. “She wanted to know how you were doing and to ask if you wanted her to come alone or to bring Nigel. He’s worried about you too. I told her you’d let her know when you got up.”

 
“Oh, of course she should bring Nigel. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. I’ll call her now.” I went over to the table where my purse was. I dug out my phone, found her contact, and hit send. She picked up on the first ring.

 
“Juliet?” she sang happily.

 
“Hey Carrie. Ethan just told me you called. Of course bring Nigel; I’d love to see him. I made enchiladas, I know he loves them.”

 
“Have you remembered anything?” she asked hesitantly. I wasn’t sure what the whole Ethan’s mouth thing was earlier, so I just told her no.

 
“Well, I’ll be leaving here in about five minutes. I’m just making sure everything is in order before I go. We’ll be there in about half an hour, okay?”

 
“That sounds great. See you soon.” I disconnected the call and felt better. Spending time with Carrie and Nigel was something normal. I could remember that. Maybe everything would be okay after all.

 
“Can I help you with anything?” For a moment I had forgotten Ethan was standing behind me.

 
“I’m good, thanks. Carrie and Nigel will be here in about half an hour.” I didn’t know what else to say. We obviously needed to talk. We had a lot of things to discuss, not the least of which was where he would be staying tonight, but now was not the time, I was about to have lunch with my friends.

 
“Great. Oh, I fed Lucy, so don’t worry about that.”

 
Oh god, I forgot to feed my baby.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I mean besides the amnesia. I didn’t forget that I have to take care of my dog. Everything was just too much for me right now. I hated to admit it but I was thankful that Ethan was here. Perhaps I shouldn’t be alone just yet.

 
“Thank you, Ethan. Really. I can’t believe I forgot.”

 
“Geez Juliet, who could blame you? It’s going to be all right.”

 
I wanted to believe him. All I wanted was for things to be normal, whatever that was. I nodded to him and set the timer for the rice before I made my way back to the living room. Lucy was still on the couch, rolled up in a little ball so I sat down beside her and stroked her soft fur. She shifted under my hand and I felt a bit better.

 
I looked over at the bookshelves again. I had just given them a cursory glance when I got home, but now I took the time to notice the changes. Small glass figures were placed in random areas, interspersed with books. I got up to look more closely. They were beautiful. Some were shaped like people, alone and entwined. One looked like it was made of liquid. I had to put my hand out and touch it, almost surprised when I encountered a solid object. There were a total of six statuettes, each one more lovely than the next. I assumed they belonged to Ethan, I had no recollection of them, nor had I ever sought out any kind of artwork. My home was pretty minimalist. Not utilitarian, just lacking in decoration. That’s the way I had always liked it. Simple.

 
I moved along the wall and came to what I thought was a lamp. It wasn’t, well, maybe it was, but the base was a large glass bowl, and inside were two angel fish, a white and yellow one and a black and blue one. I stared at them. I had never felt the need to own fish. They didn’t give you love, not like a dog or even a cat. They just stayed in their bowl, swimming in circles. I touched the glass and the black one zipped to where my finger was. It was like it was trying to say “Hi”. A second later it swam off and I remembered that fish only have a three second memory. I could relate.