Chapter 8
Mariah wanted to be anywhere else but at the office. She tapped the side of her redwood drawing table furiously with her pencil and stared through the wide window at the cloudy gray sky. When she had stepped out of her apartment, it had been bright and sunny, but like her mood, it had dulled with gray clouds sometime after noon.
She had a clear view of the sky from her workspace whenever she looked up from her drawings–to rest her mind or think. Finding it hard to concentrate today, she had been pondering about her life.
Letting her pencil drop to the table, she brushed stray strands of red hair away from her face and redid her ponytail. Satisfied that her hair would stay put, she picked up her pencil again. She was trying to finish the interior design of James’s orphanage. With deliberate strokes, she gave all her attention to her work.
The faster she worked, the faster she could return to the playhouse at Ashton McKellen. It had been six days since James had taken her there—six days since she had fainted from memory overload. She wanted to return to it. Something deep in her told her that the playhouse held a key to unlocking her memory. The only real barrier she had to going back there was James Sorenson.
He had used his authority as an alumnus of the academy to ban her from the grounds. If she showed up without him and without his express permission, she couldn”t even get near the gates of the school. Even worse, the security guard would tip James off, and she would receive a call asking her what she was doing there.
She thought he was overreacting and would forget about her–he should have other things to do–but it happened twice, and she had to give up in her attempts to return without him.
Strictly, he had kept to the doctor’s order and had done his best to keep her from the trigger that was Ashton McKellen. It didn”t stop her from being restless. At night, she would sleep and dream she was a little girl playing in the playhouse.
She would wake up out of breath and shaking. She felt that if she only went back to the playhouse, she would find some peace or at least trigger some of her memories again. But James wasn’t having that.
It seemed to her that he felt guilty and likely didn’t want either the school or himself to be responsible for something happening to her if she visited Ashton McKellen again.
He’s not the boss of you,she told herself as she rose to her feet. She had worn her favorite deep green plaid pants and a white shirt, along with black sneakers. It wasn”t the best combo, but it was one of her most comfortable work ensembles. She walked to one of the wide windows gracing the room and stood there watching the world go by.
Her fourth-floor workspace gave her a view of the street below. The green of the trees contrasted with the gray of the road. It was raining, and pedestrians were darting for cover under the trees.
The people below had hurried steps, dull office clothes, and heads bent, focused on their path. They all seemed to move with a sense of purpose. They seemed like they knew who they were and where they were headed. They were so unlike herself.
She envied them. They likely all had parents and grandparents. Maybe they even had cousins, siblings, and other blood relatives. For the longest time, she had felt that she had no past–no heritage– and no relatives to look forward to seeing in the future.
If her memories were the only thing that could give her whatever family she had lost, then she was willing to fight for them, even if the fight was against the handsome James.
There just has to be some way around his order,Mariah thought to herself. She bit on her bottom lip and pressed a hand to her temples.
Maybe… if I just ask nicely. She shook her head, dismissing the thought. It seemed he didn’t want her to return to his alma mater.
“But he seems to like me,” Mariah said to no one. It was lunch hour, and the workroom was empty save for her. “If I just try to ask nicely–”
Without giving herself more time to think, she whirled around and she reached for the satchel hanging by her chair. When her phone was in her hands, she dialed his number.
She returned to the window and placed the phone against her ear. It rang once, then twice, and James answered. “Isn’t this a lovely surprise,” his voice came out throaty as if he had woken up seconds ago. It sent shivers down her spine to the tips of her toes.
“Interrupting your nap time, sir?” she smiled, shifting to lean on the window frame.
She heard the shuffling of feet over the phone, and James chuckled. “Don”t call me ‘sir.’ And yes, you are interrupting my nap, but I can forgive you. To what do I owe the pleasure of your first phone call?”
He knew what she was up to. She sighed. There was no harm in trying. “I know you”re following doctor’s orders, and that you only seek to help, but…” her voice faltered. “If I could just–”
“No,” James deadpanned.
“No?” Mariah gasped. “You can”t–what if I didn”t know you, I hadn”t met you before now. You wouldn”t have been able to put up all these measures to keep me away.”
“True. You wouldn”t have figured out Ashton McKellen opened the door to your memories. You wouldn”t have been granted access to that playground and wouldn”t have known me. I say our meeting was divinely orchestrated.”
“I know, and I”m grateful that I met you. I am grateful that I have this amazing project to work on and that I went to Ashton with you a few days ago. I can”t thank you enough for what you have done. I”d be indebted if I got my memories back. The playhouse is the key. If you could just let me…”
“What can I do to stop you from flying to your peril over and over again?”
“Nothing!” Mariah announced, “I’d keep going back over and over again.”
“At the detriment of your health? Not on my watch.”
“Please.” She was begging now. She lifted her glasses with a finger and rubbed at her eyes with a sigh. “Please, James, just this once. Let me try.” She had known he would say no. Her fight had been a lost cause even before she started. Still, the vain hope that he might be convinced to agree had spurred her to call him. Now she thought it was a wasted effort after all.
“Fine,” he said. “You can visit the playhouse.”
Her ears perked up at this. “Really?” she squealed, pumping her fist in the air, a grin gracing her face.
“Really,” James confirmed.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she beamed, pushing herself away from the window. She returned to her drawing table, eager to wrap up for the day.
“But–”
“But?” Mariah stopped in her tracks. A small sound of annoyance sounded from her throat.
“I”d have to be there with you,” James said. “To make sure you don”t pass out, or hurt yourself.”
“Is that all?” Mariah asked him, sitting back down on her chair. She could understand that he wanted to protect the school from facing legal action in case something happened to her while on their premises.
“Yes. That would be all. Now if you could just be a little patient with me, I need to wrap up here–”
“Oh, you don”t have to rush through work. You could just call the security at Ashton and tell them I”m coming around. You can join me when you”re done with whatever it is that you have to do.”
James chuckled, sending sweet vibrations down her spine. “You’d like that very much, wouldn”t you?”
“Yes, I would. I”d like that very much,” she smiled and heard James’s laugh.
“I’d meet you there then. Stay safe until I get there, okay?” He advised and hung up.
Mariah put her phone to her chest, a silly smile on her face. She let out a relieved chuckle and sighed. It had been a gamble to ask James, but it had worked out.
Dropping her phone on the table, she picked up her pencil and brought it down on her paper. She had an incentive to finish her work quickly. James was bound to ask about her progress on the drawings, and she wanted to give him a positive report.
She decided that whether she was done with the drawing or not, she would leave work at 4:00 pm. It would give her an hour to visit the playhouse before going home to make an early dinner and turn in for bed.
She hadn”t mentioned to anyone except Dr. Vishram when she went for a checkup–James’s order–that since the day she had fainted, she had been feeling more tired and had been getting more easily worked up. He had advised her to rest more, and she had been doing her best to follow his directions.
At 4 pm, the sun hung low in the sky. She raised her head from her sketchbook briefly. Then she raised it to study her work. The drawing paper held the schematics of the orphanage, complete from the ground up.
It had taken her three days to be done with the ground floor, but she was proud of her work. James would be too. She rolled it up and put it in its casing. She would show it to him when she was done with the whole building. She packed her sketchbook into a satchel to take home.
Her task for tomorrow was to start working on the 3D image of the orphanage. If she started tonight, she could make significant progress by the end of the next workday.
When she was sure she had grabbed everything she needed, as well as all her personal possessions, Mariah flew out of the office and hailed a taxi. She arrived at Ashton McKellen and was granted access. She smiled brightly at the security and staff on the school grounds. Without hesitation, she went to the playground.
Standing in front of the playhouse, she took a deep breath. She had been looking forward to returning for days now. She was hopeful that being here would jog her memory. Standing at the playhouse, all she felt now was a vague tingling at the back of her head–nothing too serious or life-threatening.
She willed herself to be brave and stepped into the house. She moved from room to room, trying to remember anything. But her mind stayed blank.
With hunched shoulders, she stopped by the door that used to be a piano room and leaned on the doorframe. She felt a bout of dizziness, but nothing too overwhelming. She tried picturing it the way James said it had been. He had said that it had a miniature oak piano, a bench, and a small seating area for anyone who wanted to enjoy the music.
Soon, she heard heavy footsteps behind her and turned to see James behind her. Suddenly, there was a slight buzzing in her head.
Once again, she was awestruck by how handsome he looked. His honey-brown curls hung in a side sweep on his head. They looked so wonderful on him, and the slight stubble on his jawline and cheeks only served to make him look more roguish. He was dressed in a black turtleneck shirt, black slacks, and a gray overcoat. He looked stylish and poised enough to belong on the cover of an Abercrombie and Fitch magazine.
He walked up to her, his lips widening in a smile. Mariah smiled back, seeing herself reflected in his green eyes.
“Hey,” she managed to say before looking away and turning back around to face the room. “You came.”
“Like I said I would,” Mariah felt the heat radiating off his body as he stood close to her. “Any luck?”
“No,” she mumbled with a shake of her head. “You must like that very much.”
“I don”t,” James announced and said no more. She knew he was there standing behind her–stoic and guard-like and quiet. She liked it and liked that he respected her need for silence. She stood there, willing herself to remember something–anything–until the buzzing in her head turned to a pulsing headache. Then she felt tears prick at her eyes.
Then James tapped her on the shoulder from behind. She turned to face him. Then he said, “Wanna take a walk?” He gave her a small smile. “I heard it works wonders for the mind.”
She nodded and followed him out of the playhouse. Out on the grass, he offered her his arm, and she linked her hand underneath it. “Now, Mariah, regale me with tales of your childhood. Here I am trying to build a home for orphans. I need all the advice I can get. And you, my dear, are an expert.”
Mariah smiled, happy for the distraction he offered. She talked as they walked out of the main entrance of the school and crossed the street. They walked by James”s car, which was a dark purple Mercedes today.
Seeing Mariah shake her head at the car, James explained that everyone had their hobbies and his happened to be collecting beautiful cars. They paused by his car, and he offered to take her home. “We don’t have to go on a walk,” he said, “if you aren’t feeling well enough.” Mariah thanked him but insisted they take the walk. She spent most of her time sitting in a studio and needed exercise.
James and Mariah walked through the main entrance of the park across from the academy. They strolled the grounds as she told him about the rowdy dinners at the orphanage. He responded that she needed to make a bigger kitchen and dining room in the new orphanage.
They paused by a wooden bench on a small hill. The bench overlooked the park’s stone path, where people walked. The bench was a short distance away from the forest of trees, where thick branches were laden with leaves. Mariah involuntarily shivered at the sight of the woods and had to look away from it.
She decided to sit on the bench and let go of James’ arm.
“Feeling any better?” James smiled as he sat down by her side. He didn”t seem to be affected by the foreboding feeling the woods gave. Mariah did not look back at it, but she still felt its looming presence behind her. She clung mentally to James’s peace and courage, willing herself to think of anything but the woods.
“A bit,” she answered him and took a deep breath as the pulsing headache became stronger. “At least the headaches might shake my memories back,” she attempted a joke–a terrible one–but James, being the gentleman, laughed at it.
She sat with her eyes closed, with her back resting on the bench. She willed herself not to cry as nausea overtook her, and she found herself unconsciously reaching for James’s hand. She stopped herself before she held his hand and bolted to her feet.
He didn’t need to know that she was beginning to see him as a source of comfort. She didn’t fully understand why she felt that way, and she did not want to ruin the cordial relationship she had with him.
“Maybe I should just walk a while,” Mariah said in a shaky voice. “I felt better while I was in motion.” Her waves of nausea didn’t go away that easily. She wanted to be calm and distract herself, so her words were more to reassure herself than James. “I won”t go far.”
She turned and looked towards the woods. The wood called to her, but her eyes were drawn to a large oak tree that stood on its border. Steeling herself, she walked towards it, intent on making it the landmark for turning back. However, she could not bring herself to turn back once she had arrived at the oak. She placed her palm on the hard bark, feeling the tree alive and rough under her skin.
She felt the urge to make her fingers trail circles on it, and she did so without thinking. Then she wanted to see more of the tree. It felt familiar. She began walking around it, feeling drawn to it like a magnet.
In all the years of her life that she could remember, she had never felt so connected to new places or people. The man she had only met recently seemed to be changing everything. She circled the tree slowly.