“I'm glad you told me. It's so sad. I lost a husband I must have loved, and whom I don't even remember now. This is like losing everything you ever cared about or owned. I've lost all the people in my life, and the history we had. I don't even remember his face or his name, or my marriage to Jason. I don't even remember when my babies were born.” It felt like a tragedy to her, even more than the actual impact of the bomb. Her doctors had explained all that to her. It sounded so unreal. But so did everything else. Like someone else's life, and not hers.
“You haven't lost anyone except for Sean. Everyone else is still here. And you had wonderful times with him you'll remember again one day. The others are all here, in one form or another. Your children, Jason, your work. The history is there too, even if you can't remember it yet. The bond you have to them is still there. The people who love you aren't going anywhere.”
“I don't even know who I was to them, who I am … or who they were to me,” Carole said miserably, and blew her nose on the tissue the nurse handed her. “I feel like a ship went down with everything I owned.”
“It didn't go down. It's out there in the fog somewhere. When the fog clears, you'll find all your stuff, and everyone on the ship. Most of it is just baggage anyway. Maybe you're better off.”
“And what about you?” Carole asked, looking at her. “What am I to you? Am I a good employer? Do I treat you well? Do you like your job? And what kind of life do you have?” She wanted to know who Stevie was as a person, not just in relation to herself. She really cared. Even without her memory, Carole was still the fine woman she had always been, and whom Stevie loved.
“I love my job, and you. Maybe too much. I'd rather work for you than do anything in the world. I love your kids, the work we do together, the causes you speak out for. I like who you are as a human being, which is why I love you so much. You're really a good person, Carole. And a good mom too. Don't let Chloe try to convince you otherwise.” Stevie was upset about that. Chloe had contributed more than her fair share to any problems they had had. She was hard on her mother, and sometimes bitter about the past. Stevie thought she should let it go and that she hadn't been fair to bring it up.
“I'm not so sure Chloe got such a great deal from me,” Carole said quietly, “but I'm glad you think I'm a good person, it's awful not to know. Not to have any idea who you are, or what you've done to people. For all I know, I'm a total shit, and you're being kind to me. I hate not remembering any of it, or who meant what to me in my life. It's scary to think about.” It truly frightened her. It was like flying in the dark. She had no idea when she might hit a wall, just as she had when the bomb went off. “What about your own life?” she asked Stevie then. “Are you married?”
“No. I live with someone,” Stevie said, and paused before she added more.
“Do you love him?” Carole was curious about her. She wanted to know everything, about all of them. She needed to know who they were, and discover who she was.
“Sometimes,” Stevie said honestly. “Not always. I'm not sure what I feel for him, which is why I've never married him. Besides, I'm married to my job. His name is Alan, he's a journalist. He travels a lot, which works for me. What we have is convenient and comfortable. I'm not sure I'd call it love. And when I think about marrying him, it makes me want to run like hell. I've never thought marriage was such a great thing, particularly if I don't want kids.”
“Why don't you? Do you know?”
“I have you,” Stevie teased, and then grew serious again. “I think it's always been a missing piece in my chemistry. I've never felt a need to be a mother. I'm happy the way I am. I have a cat, a dog, a job I love, and a guy I sleep with some of the time. Maybe for me, that's enough. I like to keep things simple.”
“Is it enough for him?” Carole was curious about her, and the life she described. It sounded limited to Carole. Stevie was obviously afraid of something, and Carole couldn't figure out what.
“Probably not in the long run. He says he wants kids. But he can't have them with me,” Stevie said simply. “He's turning forty, and he thinks we should get married. That may do us in. I don't want children. I never did. I made that decision a long time ago. I had a shit childhood myself, and I promised myself I wouldn't do that to someone else. I'm happy being a grown-up, without encumbrances, or someone to bitch at me later on about everything I did wrong. Look at you with Chloe. For what it's worth, I think you've been a great mom to her, and she's pissed off anyway. I never wanted that in my life. I'd rather spend time with my dog. And if I lose Alan because of it, it wasn't meant to be anyway. I told him right from the beginning I didn't want kids, that was fine with him. Now maybe his biological clock is ticking. Mine isn't. I don't have one. I threw mine away years ago. In fact, I was so sure of it, I had my tubes tied when I was in college, and I'm not going to have that undone. I don't want to adopt. I love my life just the way it is.” She sounded absolutely certain of what she was saying, as Carole looked intently at her, trying to sort out what was fear and what was truth. There was a lot of both.
“What happens when something happens to me? I'm older than you are. What if I die? Or when I die, not if. I could have died anytime in the last three weeks. What then? If I'm the most important thing in your life, what happens to you when I go? That's a scary place for you to be in.” It was true, whether Stevie wanted to face it or not.
“It's scary for everyone. What happens when a husband dies? Or a kid? Or your husband leaves you and you wind up alone? We all have to face that sooner or later. Maybe I'll die before you do. Or maybe you'll get mad and fire me one day, if I fuck something up. There are no guarantees in life unless we all jump off a bridge together when we're ninety years old. You take your chances in life. You have to be honest and know what you want. I'm true to myself.
“I was honest with Alan. If he doesn't like that, then he can go. I never lied to him and said I wanted kids. I told him in the beginning that I didn't want to get married and my job meant everything to me. Nothing's changed for me. If he can't live with that, or doesn't like me for it, then he has to go out and find what he wants. It's all any of us can do. Sometimes the pieces only fit for a while.
“That must have happened with you and Jason, or you'd still be married to him. Most things don't last forever. I'm willing to accept that in the scheme of things, and give it my best shot. It's all I can do. And yeah, sometimes Alan plays second fiddle to you, and to my job. Sometimes I play second fiddle to his. It works for me. But maybe not for him. If not, we're history, and it was nice for a while. I'm not looking for Prince Charming or the perfect love story. I just want something practical and real that works for me. For both of us. He's not my prisoner, and I don't want to be his. Marriage feels like that to me.” It was as honest as she'd ever been. Stevie never lied to anyone, and didn't kid herself either. She was practical about everything, her life, her job, her men. It made her solid, real, and nice to be around. Carole could see that. Stevie was totally genuine in every way, and honest to her core.
“Did I feel that way?” Carole asked, looking puzzled again.
“I think you've always been true to yourself too, from what I know. I think you could have taken Jason back, when he came back to you after Paris, and for whatever reason, you didn't. I think you're more willing to compromise than I am, which is why marriage works for you. But I've never known you to sacrifice your values or your principles, or who you are, for anything or anyone. When you believe in something, you see it through till the end. I love that about you. You're willing to stand up for what you believe in, no matter how many times you get knocked down. That's a great trait in a person. Who you are as a human being is what matters most.”