“Who are they?” she asked. “The people coming to visit.” The older woman, Carol, she jostled a few memories, but they felt like old ones. Very faded, disjointed, like she was a kid when they happened.
At least, she hoped they were true memories and not just wishful thinking on her part as they’d gone through photos together.
“Tony and Shayla Daniels.”
“How did I meet them?”
“You’ve known them for several years. They’re the friends who introduced us. You and Shayla are extremely close. Best friends.”
She felt like maybe he was holding something back but it didn’t feel bad, or like he was lying.
She wasn’t sure how she knew that, or if it was simply more mental gymnastics courtesy of her battered brain.
She opted to let it go for now.
“Why haven’t more people come to see me?” She feared the answer.
“Oh, sweetie. I’ve told people to stay away for now. You were in the ICU, and now…” He didn’t finish.
He didn’t have to.
“Because I can’t remember them anyway,” she quietly said.
He let out a sigh as he nodded. “I didn’t want you to get overwhelmed. And…” She forced herself not to flinch away from him as he reached out and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I knew you wouldn’t want a lot of people seeing you like this.”
“You’re seeing me like this.” She felt an instinctive urge to tip her face toward his hand, to nuzzle against it.
Familiar.
She closed her eyes and hoped more came to her but it didn’t.
For now, she’d settle for that little beacon of goodness in the middle of the inky sea that still comprised most of her memories.
“That’s because I love you,” he said. “You’re my life. Good luck trying to keep me from your side.”
“What about the couple bringing dinner? Would I want them seeing me like this?”
“They’re like family to us. You wouldn’t care what condition they saw you in.”
The door opened again and the deputy popped his head in. “Rob, there’s a couple here to see Laura.”
“Send them in.” He stood to greet them. Laura clutched at the sheet and waited for them to get all the way in.
They did feel familiar.
More importantly, like Carol earlier, they felt safe.
Tony Daniels stood a little taller than Rob and had green eyes, dark brown hair, and a friendly smile surrounded by a neatly trimmed moustache and goatee. Even though he had his hands full of take-out bags, he accepted an awkward one-armed hug from Rob. His wife, Shayla, had hazel eyes and wore her brown hair down past her shoulders.
She also noticed Shayla wore a gold necklace with a heart-shaped charm on it. Something about the look of it pulled a wistful pang from deep in Laura’s heart. Her hand flew to her throat again, fingers helplessly fluttering against the empty real estate there.
I need to remember to ask Rob about that.
Tony put the bags down on the bed tray. “We come bearing food,” he joked.
“Thank you,” Laura said. “Rob told me you were bringing dinner.”
Shayla hesitantly walked around the bed to the other side. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “May I hug you?” she softly asked Laura.
Laura pulled back the sheet and turned to sit on the edge of the bed. Shayla tentatively wrapped her arms around her as Laura did the same.
She heard Shayla sniffle. “I love you so much, sister,” she whispered in her ear. “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.”
A wave of emotion Laura couldn’t process swept through her. She let out a sob of her own as she tightly clutched Shayla and they cried together.
Alarmed, Rob started toward the women. Tony stepped in his path and gave a terse shake of his head. He motioned for Rob to follow him out into the hall.
When the door closed behind them, Rob whispered, “Why are we out here?”
“Give them a couple of minutes alone together,” he said, peeking through a crack in the blinds. “It’ll do them both some good. Even if it doesn’t jostle Laura’s memory, she’s obviously reacting to Shay.” He eyed Rob. “And Shayla was about to go crazy with grief, so she needs to let it out.”
Rob tried to look through the same space in the blinds as the women remained motionless, obviously still crying.
Shayla and Laura rarely went a day without talking on the phone. The reason Rob and Laura had an unlimited text plan was due to the tens of thousands of texts the women exchanged every month.
Laura was nearly as close to Leah, Tilly, Loren, and Clarisse, but Shayla and Laura were closer than sisters. When Laura first entered the lifestyle, Shayla had immediately scooped Laura under her wing, both her and Tony offering Laura mentorship and protection from douchetards.
On FetLife, they had each other listed as sisters on their profiles.
That did nothing to soothe the ugly jealously trying to ooze its way through Rob’s soul. Laura hadn’t had such a visceral reaction to him.
Then the ugly jealousy tried to spawn a whole lot of dark, nasty eggs of doubt.
Tony put his hand out and caught Rob’s arm. He waited until Rob finally looked at him. “Women relate differently than we do, okay?” he quietly said. “It’s not a personal statement against you. And she’s known Shayla a few months longer than she’s known you. Try not to read too much into it.”
Rob slumped against the wall. Tony was spooky like that in his ability to read and relate to people. It was one of the reasons people liked him so much, and why his classes in communication and negotiation in the lifestyle were so popular.
“What if she never remembers me?”
Tony’s expression softened. “She will. Just give her time.” He stared through the window again. “The way she looked at you before all this? You are her heart and soul. You will be again. Love like that doesn’t just disappear.”
“I hope you’re right.”
After a few minutes, Tony nodded. “Okay, let’s see if that did any good for either or both of them.”
Laura hated that she couldn’t coax any concrete memories from the abyss to go with the overwhelming emotions swamping her.
The only thing she knew for certain was she did love this woman, and that she was a safe person to confide in.
“I can’t remember anything,” Laura tearfully whispered. “I can’t remember Rob or you or your husband or anything.”
Shayla stroked her hair. “I know. Rob told us. It’s okay. We’re here for you. You’re not alone.”
After a few minutes the men returned. Rob walked over to her while Shayla stepped into the bathroom to blow her nose and wash her face.
“Are you okay?” Rob asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.” She looked up when he didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to voice his question. “No new memories. But,” she quickly added when disappointment flowed across his face, “it’s like when I met you. I feel something, I just don’t have the memories.”
Before he could step away, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. After hesitating, he draped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.
As she closed her eyes and deeply inhaled, she pictured a laundry room, where she stood holding her face pressed against a shirt she had to put in the wash, one of his, maybe.
She pulled herself from the vision. “It’s a yellow jug,” she softly said, surprising herself.
“What?”
She didn’t want to look up or let go, afraid to break whatever tenuous connection she had with the delicately sprouting memory. “The laundry soap. It’s in a yellow jug.”
“Yeah,” he said.