Seven
SEVEN
RHETT
I jolt up in bed, startled by the violent clanging of pots and pans.
The moment I open the door and stumble down the hall to the kitchen, the smell of something savory hits me.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Crew says dully from the dining room table as he sips coffee and flips through a book. He doesn’t even bother to look my way. “Lover boy is up!” he shouts toward the kitchen.
Dana emerges wearing a purple apron. Her hair is in a messy knot with loose strands framing her face and it’s held in place by what looks like a knitting needle. “Good morning,” she says brightly.
Dana’s eyes widen as she notices me standing in the living room. She scans me up and down, and a slow blush creeps onto her cheeks. That’s when I realize I forgot to put a shirt on in my rush to find out where the noise was coming from.
“Sorry, I’ll be right back.” I dash to the bedroom and grab a shirt.
I start pulling it down but stop when I look in the mirror and find a scar on my abdomen. Running my finger over the puckered skin, a memory trickles through the fog of my amnesia. Unease fills me, and I quickly head back to the living room, needing to be near Dana to alleviate those feelings.
As soon as she’s back in view, comfort chases away the unease. She smiles my way, and an entirely different sensation overwhelms me. It’s an illogical yet unsurprising emotion. The feeling that I’m home. With my safe person. That she’s my person.
She shyly looks away from me to Crew who, thankfully, seems unaware of my moment with Dana.
“I’m going to go home, shower, and get some stuff done around the apartment,” Crew says, more to Dana than me.
“All right, we’ll see you later,” Dana says, giving him a quick hug.
Crew turns to me. “I’ll see you around.” I’m pleasantly surprised when he reaches his hand out to shake mine.
“It was nice meeting you,” I say.
He grunts and gives me a nod in response before disappearing out the door.
Dana bites her lip. “Sorry about him. He doesn’t open up very easily.” She twirls a loose strand of hair, and I have the sudden urge to pull the item I now realize is a crochet hook from her hair and run my hands through the strands.
I stare at her, imprinting her features into my brain so I never forget her again. I must take too long to memorize her because her soft smile turns into a frown.
She pulls off her apron and hangs it on a hook on the wall. “Well, I’m going to go for a run. Breakfast is in the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever you want. And you know where the bathroom is, so feel free to get a shower while I’m gone. I left a towel and washcloth on the counter for you.”
Her slightly wrinkled nose gives off the impression that it was more of a request than a suggestion, I turn my head and sniff myself. Yeah, I could definitely use a shower. I probably should have taken one last night.
She stares at me, almost as if she’s trying to figure something out. Maybe I have drool on the side of my mouth that I missed when fixing my hair in the mirror. I lift my hand and pretend to scratch my chin to check. All clear. But her focus doesn’t waver.
“What is it?” I ask.
“You just look a lot like…” She shakes her head as if breaking free of a trance. “Never mind. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Before she reaches the door, I call to her, “Dana, wait.”
She turns and faces me. Her curious expression tells me to go on.
I swallow hard. “I’m sorry you had to deal with me last night. Well, all day, really. And I’m sorry that all this stuff has fallen onto your shoulders.” A shiver races down my spine at the memory of the nightmare that woke her up last night.
Dana waves me off as if taking on the role as my caregiver is no big deal. “It’s fine. I’m just happy I found you and that you’re on the mend.”
I see nothing but sincerity when I search her eyes. I know I hurt her in the past, but she doesn’t appear to be holding a grudge. Maybe she was a little gruff when she first found me, but it didn’t take her long to soften toward me. Again, I go silent, unable to form a reasonable response.
She takes a step toward me.
“Are you okay?” She releases a breath before she continues. “Last night, when you woke up?—”
I cut her off, not wanting to tarnish her life with my darkness. “I’m fine.” I smile at her, trying to portray the same sincerity she gave me.
Dana gives me a closed-lip smile that tells me she doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t fight me on it. “Okay. Make yourself at home.” She motions to her living room. “I’ll see you in a bit.” And with that, the door closes softly behind her.
I walk to the kitchen and grab a breakfast sandwich off the plate on the counter. After sending up a prayer of thanks, I take a bite and practically moan. Crew wasn’t joking, Dana’s cooking is amazing.
As I eat, I wander around her space, taking in the little details I wasn’t able to last night. Maybe this way I can learn at least a little bit about her.
Her living room is simple and feminine with its white walls and the accents of purple found in the drapes and throw pillows. The shelf next to her television houses DVDs. Tucked in the corner is what looks like a record player. A shelf beside it holds albums that look like a mix of older and newer by the wear on their covers. I find myself drawn to the music for some reason. I pull out a couple of records. Bon Jovi, Puddle of Mudd, The Verve, Awestruck, and Phantom Echoes are just a few of the bands I find. As I go through them, an odd sensation of deja vu comes over me.
I shake my head, mentally ridding myself of the bizarre feeling, and decide it’s time to get cleaned up.
For some reason, the remnants of my nightmare come back to me after wandering around Dana's cottage. I hate that I can remember each moment vividly but can’t remember anything prior to waking up on shore yesterday. The hot water rains down, and I scrub as hard as I can, trying to rid myself of the haunting visions without inflicting pain on my various scrapes and bruises. It wasn’t just a nightmare; I can feel that it’s a memory. A terrible memory I wish I could permanently forget.
I lean my head back, and the water rinses the shampoo from my hair. I flinch as the cut on my scalp burns.
“Lord, please guide me and help me to seek You through all of this.” It’s a short prayer, but it’s all I have. One thing I know with unshakable knowledge is that God is an integral part of my life. Praying to Him has brought a comfort I’ve desperately needed since I woke up on shore. My faith is foundational to who I am. The other thing I know without a doubt is that Dana means a great deal to me. I don’t need my memories to tell me those two truths.
A wave of dizziness crashes over me the second I turn the water off. I sway on my feet and press my hands against the wall, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. Thankfully, the dizziness doesn’t last too long.
Getting out of the shower, I dry off the best I can, then slide on the boxer briefs Dana picked up for me. I drape my towel over my shoulders. I’m running too hot to put clothes on and need a few moments to make sure this bout of dizziness is gone. I’m grateful for Dana giving me privacy. Now I can cool off before getting dressed—not that I plan on going anywhere except my bedroom.
Steam pours from the bathroom into the hallway as I step out.
“Did you forget all about me?” a woman calls from somewhere in the front of the house. I stop dead in my tracks.
Footsteps grow closer. I should take the three strides to my room, but I’m frozen in place.
She walks into view at the end of the hall, and I take her in, scanning my minimal memories to see if she’s someone I once knew. I’d put her in her mid-to-late sixties. She’s at least a foot shorter than me with wild curly brown hair with silver highlights, oversized glasses, and a floral print dress that almost brushes the floor. Nothing sparks to tell me she’s someone I used to know.
“Oh my!” she exclaims, placing her hand over her heart. Her eyes widen and she asks, “Who are you?”
“Rhett.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. “Rhett? You mean the Rhett?”
I think the question is meant to be rhetorical, so I only grunt in response.
“I’ll take that as a yes even though you sound more like a caveman than the man Dana has told me about.” Before I can apologize for my lack of manners, she rambles on. “Rhett, why don’t you go get some clothes on? I have a few questions for you.”
“Sorry but…who are you?” I ask.
“Rosa,” she states as if I should somehow know exactly who she is and why she’s in Dana’s home.
Since it seems like she’s meant to be here, I take that as my cue to get dressed even if it leaves her unsupervised. As I’m pulling on my pants, I hear the front door open and close. By the time I’m dressed and coming out of my room, Rosa and Dana are talking in hushed voices. When Dana says my name curiosity gets the best of me. I try to get closer to make out what they’re saying, but the floorboards protest and give me away.
Both Dana and Rosa turn to look at me. Dana’s face is flushed from her run, and she glistens with sweat. Slowly, my eyes scan her down to her toes then back up. Unbridled attraction thrums through my veins.
“Well.” Rosa’s lips turn up into a wide smile. “I’m glad I can finally meet you and put a face to the name.”
From the glances exchanged between the two women, Dana has, at a minimum, partially filled Rosa in on our situation.
“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m sorry our introduction was so…” I trail off not knowing how to finish that thought.
“Raw,” Dana supplies, then covers her mouth to try and hide her smile. Rosa gently smacks Dana’s arm, her expression playful.
I scratch the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah.” The tips of my ears heat in embarrassment.
Rosa sends Dana a sharp look. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re hosting a house guest?”
Dana chews on her bottom lip. My eyes focus on the movement involuntarily, and what I assume is a memory flickers to life. The image is of Dana looking up at me through her lashes. She bit her lower lip as if she was waiting for me. After a brief tortuous second, I pressed my lips against hers and her body melted into mine. Swallowing hard, I attempt to rein in my thoughts, but the memory plays on repeat.
When Dana speaks again, it pulls me out of my haze. “It was kind of a shock, and I haven't really been able to think straight since I found him. I knew I was forgetting something on my way back from my run but don’t know how I forgot about our brunch.”
Rosa waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. I can see you have a lot on your plate.” She crosses her thin arms over her chest and eyes me warily. “You do realize if people at church find out about this little arrangement there will be talk?”
Dana sighs. “I know. But Crew stayed too! And Nancy Woodhouse already knows. I called her this morning, and she assured me I did the right thing.”
“So how exactly did all of this”—Rosa waves her hands around— “happen?”
Dana tells Rosa the full story, including the orders from Dr. Woodhouse.
A placating smile replaces Rosa’s stern expression. “Okay, well, that explains it, but we need to rectify this situation before tonight. And I believe there is a very simple solution.”
“Yeah?” Dana and I say in unison.
“Crew will take him in.”
Dana immediately shakes her head. “I already tried that.” She gives me a side-eye. “He’s made his position clear...”
I finish for her. “Crew is very much team anti-Rhett.” A sick feeling fills my gut. Not just because of Crew. Anxiety has my chest tightening when I think about being away from Dana. She’s become my safe place amidst all this chaos.
Pursing her lips, Rosa says, “Nonsense. Let me have a word with him.”
Dana raises an eyebrow.
Rosa holds back a smile and lovingly pats Dana’s cheek. “Leave it to me, sweet girl.” Then she turns to me and winks.
Rosa knew exactly what strings to pull and what buttons to push when it came to convincing Crew to let me temporarily live with him. I make a mental note to get on her good side. She clearly holds a lot of influence and knows how to get things done.
Dana and Rosa came with me when I moved the belongings Dana bought for me into Crew’s one-bedroom apartment. Afterward, Crew came back with us to Dana’s cottage to eat the leftovers from breakfast.
We all sat and talked for over an hour after our plates had been scraped clean. They interacted as if they were all lifelong friends, yet I didn’t feel like an outsider. They made me feel welcome and as if I belonged. Well, Dana and Rosa did.
Crew doesn’t like me and doesn’t hide it. Even though I don’t think staying with Crew will be comfortable, there’s currently no other choice. One night at Dana’s was enough to potentially cause gossip, and she’s sacrificed enough for me. Especially with her being a small group leader of teenage girls—teenage girls who she loves as if they’re her younger sisters. She practically glowed as she told me about them and said that Wednesday nights are her favorite because she gets to see them. The last thing she needs is for my presence to complicate her position or call her character into question with church leadership. So, despite my less-than-stellar relationship with Crew, I will be staying with him until I get my memories back or somehow figure out where I live.
By the time night rolls around, I have no doubt that I am the person Crew hates most in the world—past, present, and future. He makes me choose between the smelly couch and a blow-up mattress that doesn’t look like it still holds air.
I stealthily lean over and take another whiff of Crew’s couch. I gag. Yeah, air mattress it is.
Once I tell him my decision, Crew goes to the hall closet, grabs a pump, and shoves it into my hands. “You’re going to need this.”
He drops the deflated mattress onto the floor without a word. So I get to work and get it blown up, then toss a sheet and partially moth-eaten afghan on top. Despite the bed at Dana’s being too small, it was comfortable. This “bed" looks like it’s seen better days; there is a chance I won’t be able to walk tomorrow after a night sleeping on it. Especially with my ribs being so tender.
Crew must notice my hesitation.
“It looks rough but it stays pumped up for the most part.”
I stare down at the rubber bed that’s already losing air and looks lopsided thirty-seven seconds into being blown up. Crew gives me a full-blown mocking smile.
“I hope you have the sleep you deserve.” His expression drops into a menacing scowl, and I pray that he doesn’t try and strangle me in my sleep.