7. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Allie
L eisurely, I dry off in the first hot shower I've taken that I can remember. It feels strange not to have someone watching me. First in the basement, and then in the hospital. The doctor kept me in the hospital an extra two days because I spiked a fever despite the antibiotics, and I was never without someone keeping an eye on me.
Jax has been so sweet, and he bought all of the products he says I love. As strange as it is to be told what I like by someone else, I have to admit that I like the smell of all of them. And feeling clean.
I stayed under the hot water until it ran cold, and I worry Jax will be upset with me for it. The towel I wrap around myself is so large, it feels like a blanket compared to the hand towel I was given in the basement. The fuzzy terrycloth feels good on my skin, and I wear it like a dress, realizing I don't have anything to change into in the bathroom.
"Closet's there," Jax says as he lies on the bed.
"I used all the hot water. I'm sorry."
"That's okay. The water heater will catch up," he says .
I look around the room, suddenly uncomfortable and uncertain what to do. Jax climbs off the bed and opens the closet door for me. Stepping inside, I realize it's a small room filled with clothes and shoes. So many shoes.
"Your stuff's on the right side."
"Are all these shoes mine?" I ask in awe.
Jax brought me a pair of shoes to wear home from the hospital, but I don't remember ever wearing shoes. It seems so strange. All of this is really strange. Maybe I should write about this as I go along because this would make a hell of a story.
"You love shoes. I always joked that I'd have to build you a shoe room in one of the extra bedrooms because you would come home from every shopping trip with a new pair," he says with a smile.
I look at him, confused. "Why didn't you tell me to stop buying them if we didn't have room?"
"Because they made you happy. Besides, there was no telling you what to do. You've always been extremely headstrong. In fact, if anyone told you not to do something, you did it threefold. Just to defy them. Which is part of the reason you and your mom didn't really get along."
Running my hands along the various garments, I stop when I find a dress in a soft cotton. Everything looks so big, but at least a dress should be rather forgiving. The sweatpants I wore certainly weren't, and I can only imagine what a pair of jeans would be like without any hips. I feel like I remember having hips at one point early on, but my limited diet did me no favors.
"I'll let you get changed. Your underwear is in the dresser there, and I'll just wait for you out in the living room when you're ready," he says awkwardly .
Something tells me Jax would have normally watched me change. That I was the type of girl who didn't mind her boyfriend ogling her while she stripped down after a shower.
Part of me feels an excitement at the idea that Jax wants to see me naked. That he wants to touch me. I wondered what his hands would feel like on my body when I was in the shower, and there's a desire I hadn't expected. He's an extremely attractive man, and the way he looks at me makes my heart flutter.
Picking out a pair of black panties and bra, I slip them on and take note that they're only slightly too big. I must've fluctuated weight a bit. The dress hangs on me a little, but it's not terrible. I don't think I'd want to wear it in public, but it works better than the towel I used to cover myself.
I walk into the living room where Jax sits, and I stop in my tracks when I see all the pictures of us. It feels like hundreds, but there's probably only twenty or thirty. All of them show the two of us laughing or smiling or kissing.
One of them is of me, covered in snow, and I look to be mid-laugh as Jax lifts me off the ground. It looks like a good memory.
"That one is from a trip we took to Colorado. You'd just learned to ski, and you aren't very good at it. But you were determined. Hellbent, actually, and you ended up doing what we call a yard sale. You laid in the snow, laughing, and made a snow angel."
"Yard sale?"
A smile appears on his face. "You spun in the air and lost all of your stuff. I'm talking poles, skis, hat, sunglasses, and one of your mittens. You were shaking as you laid there, and I worried you were hurt and crying. But you were laughing. Then, as though to say you meant to do that, you started to make a snow angel where you landed. You were so adorable that I had to lie down and make one, too."
"We look like we were happy," I say as I look at the other pictures.
I keep hoping something jumps out at me. A picture that will trigger my memories. With how many pictures and locked-up memories hang around here, something has to leap out at me, right?
"We were happy. Very happy," he says with a sigh. "I never gave up hope you were alive, Allie. Never."
Avoiding that conversation because I’m not quite ready yet, I gesture towards the front door. "The FOR SALE sign is gone."
"I'm not selling the house anymore."
"Why not?"
Pain fills his eyes when I look at him, and an immediate sense of guilt washes over me. He seems to show all of his emotions in his eyes, and I'm surprised at how easily I can read them. I do like his chocolate brown eyes. They match his hair, and I momentarily get lost in them as I stare. It feels familiar, but I don't remember anything specifically. Not even the five or so pictures of us looking at each other just like this spark a memory.
"Because it's your home. Because I was only selling it when I was going to marry someone because I couldn't live here with another woman."
"You're not getting married anymore?"
"No." Jax shakes his head.
"Jax—"
"I never wanted to in the first place. There was all this pressure to move on, and then there was pressure to keep going. I thought I could make myself love someone else, but there's only you, Allie. I couldn't live my life with Laura. Hell, I was an hour late to my own engagement party last night when I found you because I didn't want to go. And I didn't want to go because I don't want to marry her."
The way he looks at me fills me with guilt. He looks like he has so much love in his heart for me, and the intensity in his stare sometimes feels like a nonverbal plea to remember him. Remember us. The strength of his longing is overwhelming.
Maybe staying here wasn't a good idea. Maybe I'll just hurt him.
The front door opens, and I jump as Sage's blonde head pops inside. "Hey, guys."
"Hey, Sage," Jax says. "Come in."
"I just wanted to check and see how Allie's settled in. Do you need anything?"
Sage came into the hospital room that first night and introduced herself. She's my best friend, apparently. When she broke down into sobs, it was awkward and confusing for me. I mean, how do you comfort a woman you don’t know?
"I think we're good," Jax says. "Do you need anything, Allie?"
“I’m not sure how I’d even begin to know what the hell I need because I don’t know what I have. Memory loss, remember?" I answer with full honesty.
Sage laughs. "That's my girl."
"Remind me how we met," I say, thinking maybe something further back than Jax and I will jog my memory.
"We were in preschool together when we were four. There was this boy, Bobby Miller, who ran up to me and pushed me on the playground. I cried, as a normal little girl would, and then he and his friends circled me, pointing and laughing. Calling me a crybaby. I hadn't made any friends yet because it was my first day, and we'd just moved to town. You, having grown up here for those first four years, ran up and kicked Bobby in the knee, and he fell right next to me. He scraped his elbow as he fell, and he started crying. You just stood there, cocked out your hip, crossed your arms, and said, 'Who's the crybaby now?' We've been best friends ever since."
The story makes me smile. If I'm going to be any type of person, I want to be the type who would stand up for my friends. "That's a funny story. What ever happened to Bobby Miller?"
"He moved away sophomore year. He's married to a redheaded boy named Chuck. For some reason, a lot of guys I know named Chuck have red hair. I don't get it."
"Like that kid from Rugrats ," Jax says.
Pointing at him, Sage laughs. "Yes!"
Watching the way they interact makes me realize how much I’ve lost, and I don't particularly like the feeling. "I'm sorry I don't remember you, Sage. You seem like a great friend."
"I learned from the best," she says with a smile. "And the reason you fell for Jax the moment you met him was because he's basically the male version of me. He's the only boyfriend you've ever had that I didn't hate. In fact, I made him take me on a date when you two started getting serious."
That sounds weird. "You did?"
"Yeah, and she told me she liked me. But she loved you," Jax says. "And she said that if I didn't make you happy, she would make sure I was never happy again in my entire life. That you were hers before you were mine, and if she was going to give you up to someone, he better be worth it."
"And he was worth it?"
She smiles at me, and I find comfort in her brown eyes. They're lighter than Jax's, but they complement her soft features. The light smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks makes her look innocent. Not to mention her square face, framed with short, honey blonde hair. She looks trustworthy.
"He was totally worth it. I didn't feel any jealousy losing time with you when you started dating him. He made you happy, and you being happy was all I wanted. It helped that Jax always knew that he'd have to share you. He'd willingly give up time with you so we could spend it together."
It sounds like my boyfriend and my best friend were also friends. In most of the books I read in the basement, there was usually conflict between the two. The heroine had to bridge that gap, or she had to pick a side. In those situations, the boyfriend was usually no good, and she knew she should have listened to her best friend all along.
"Would it be weird for me to ask you for a hug?" Sage asks.
Shrugging, I open my arms and let her take me into hers. Something about being in Sage's embrace feels familiar. She releases me, but I grab her and pull her into another hug, holding her tightly.
"Are you okay?" she asks, her arms wrapping around my shoulders.
She's a good couple of inches taller than me, and it feels nice to be hugged by her. Comforting. And familiar.
"Do you remember something, Allie?" Jax asks.
I pull away and shake my head, trying to figure out how to begin to explain this. "It's hard to put into words."
"Can you try? Please?"
Rubbing my fingers against each other at my sides, I try and find the words to express what I feel. Sage stares with wide eyes at my fingers, and I stop. "What?"
"That thing," she says and points to my hands. "You always did that when you were thinking. You've done it since we met. "
My eyes glance down at my fingers as I make the motion again, fluttering my fingers as though quick little movements might make them fly away. "Really?"
"Jax was right," she whispers. "You're still in there. I was worried I'd lost you, but there are still parts of Allie that you don't know, but we do."
"This makes my head hurt when I think too much about it," I say with a laugh. "But to explain... It's nothing specific. There was no memory or anything when I hugged you, Sage, but it felt familiar. Like something I know I've done a million times, and it's... familiar. I don’t know a better word for it. Almost like I remember it, but it's like looking at something that's really blurry, something that’s impossible to see clearly.” I chance a look at the two of them, curious to see their reactions. "I don't know if that makes any sense, but it's the best way I can describe it."
"I'm more than happy to offer as many hugs as needed to help you focus on a memory or a feeling or whatever," Sage says with a smile. "I know you don't remember me, but I remember you. And I've missed you so much, Allie. And I've missed my Allie hugs. No matter what, you could hug me and make me instantly feel better. I've needed that so many times these past seven years, and it's been really hard without you."
Sensing the raw emotion in Sage’s voice, I find myself wishing I could say the same thing back to her. And to Jax. That I could tell them I've missed them both. It would make them so happy to know I remember them, that I remember how important they both are to me, but I don't want to lie. It's hard enough being somewhere I know I should recognize. I feel a connection to things, like this house, but I'm not able to figure out why. Where that connection begins and ends. All the memories just flow below the surface, and I know they're there. That they're trying to come up, but they can't until I find a way to grab and retrieve them.
"I'll leave you guys alone now," Sage says and hugs me quickly. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"
"Thanks, Sage," Jax says and hugs her. He shuts the door behind her and looks at me. "Are you hungry? I can make us dinner. I bought everything to make your favorite."
My favorite. Again, something he knows about me that I don't. It's surreal that someone knows more about me than I do, even though I know I don't remember anything beyond seven years ago. He knows what I like to eat, drink, where I went to school, who my friends are, and what hobbies I enjoy. He knows all the things a person should know about themself, whereas I know nothing.
"Sure, that sounds good," I say instead, following him into the kitchen. "What's my favorite again?"