Epilogue Tucker #2
I lead her to the second pod. “That was my room,” I say, pointing to 210. “And this was yours. 205. We used to stand in our doorways at the top of every hour and wave at each other.”
A nurse in pale yellow scrubs approaches. “You must be Tucker and Ava.”
“Marsha?” I ask.
“Yes. We all thought your story was super cute. We’ve never had this happen on the unit. Do you remember where the disco room is?”
“Maybe,” I say. I feel a little turned around.
“This way,” she says.
“Can I take a peek into an empty room first?” Ava asks. “If you have one. This place is leaving a strong impression on me, even though I can’t remember it.”
“Sure,” Marsha says. “Do you know what room you were in back then?”
I point to 205. “That one. It looks unoccupied.”
We peer inside. It’s almost completely unchanged. The high television. The sofa that converts into a bed. Only the signs on the wall are different.
Ava walks in. “I feel a lot of emotions here. Anxiety. Anger.”
I take her hand again.
She looks down. “You doing that calms me immediately.”
“We did a lot of this in the hospital,” I say. “You called me out as your boyfriend straight away.”
“And here we are.”
I know it’s wise to slow things down. Let her process the parts of her memory that are activating. Sounds. Smells. The emotional history that her brain still connects to this place, even if she can’t pull forward an actual image of it in her mind.
Ava lets go of me and moves through the room, trailing her hand along the bare mattress and the metal frame. She picks up the wired remote that calls the nurse and works the television. I subtly record her walk with my phone.
She seems most interested in looking from the bed to the door. “Did I watch you from here?” she asks.
“You couldn’t see me from the bed,” I tell her. “But maybe you were as anxious as I was for the clock to move so we could see each other again.”
“I’m trying to imagine myself jumping up and racing to the door before my mother could stop me,” Ava says.
“That’s probably about how it went down.”
Ava heads for the door. “So, where is this disco room?”
Marsha leads the way out of the circular ward and down a hall.
“Here we are.” She steps aside so we can enter. “It’s all yours.”
My fingers slide around Ava’s, squeezing lightly.
The disco ball sits dark and still in the center of the ceiling.
The room is brighter than the first time we were here.
A different style of speaker sits in the corner, and the gray floor shines with wax.
It doesn’t look like any more people come in here now than when we did.
I pull my phone from my pocket and unlock it. I’m about to head over to the speaker when a familiar voice says, “I can get that.”
I turn. It’s Nurse DeShawn! He’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, so he must have come especially for us.
“You’re here!” I say. “How did you know?”
“Marsha wanted to surprise you. I’m one of the few people who have been here that long.” He tilts his head at Ava. “She doesn’t remember, does she?”
I shake my head.
“I’ve never seen another case like Ava’s. She’s one in a million.”
“She is.”
DeShawn pats my back. “You stay the course, my friend.” He takes my phone. “The one that’s queued up?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
DeShawn crosses over to the speaker while Ava and I wander the room. After a moment, the music begins, and a slow, easy melody breaks the silence.
“Is this ‘Highway to Hell’?” Ava asks.
I have to laugh at that. “No, that one’s heavy metal. A head-banging song.”
“Oh. That doesn’t seem like a very solid beginning.”
“It gave me a pick-up line,” I say. “A terrible one, but one just the same.”
She laughs. “You know, you could have left it out of the story, and I never would have known.”
“I wouldn’t change a word of our love story.” It’s true. From that first time I saw her, each step of this journey has felt right to me.
And every time I have to convince her that we belong together, I get to watch the magic envelop us both all over again. I no longer doubt that it will happen. I don’t need faith when I have years’ worth of proof.
We finish the slow walk around the room as DeShawn moves to the switches on the wall by the door.
“We haven’t danced yet this time around.” I pull Ava by the hand until we face each other, and put my arm around her waist.
“We danced that first time?”
“No, I mean, since you started your new memories.”
“I don’t know how to dance.”
“I never have known,” I say. “And, luckily, you’ve forgotten how terrible I am.”
She smiles. “Show me what to do.”
I pull her close. We don’t actually take steps, more rocking from side to side as we shift our weight. But it’s the best part of dancing. Bodies close. Oneness with the music.
She lays her head on my shoulder, and we get to simply be for a while. The overhead dims and the disco ball begins its gentle turn, sprinkling color through the room like confetti. I glance over at DeShawn. He gives me a thumbs-up and slips out of the room. We’re alone.
The rest of the world ceases to exist. Bits of light cross our bodies, as if they are the memories Ava could catch and hold onto if she simply held out her hand.
Sorrow washes over me that she’s forgotten our story. We have so many bright moments that can no longer be played in her mind. One day, she might forget this one, too.
But isn’t that what time does to everyone? Robs us of our history, leaving only fleeting glimpses of emotion when we hear a certain song or encounter a particular scent?
“I love you, Ava,” I whisper close to her ear.
Her arm around my shoulder squeezes. “I believe you.”
I hold us still for a moment and pull back to look into those blue eyes I know so well. I’m aware my face isn’t as familiar to her, but hopefully since her last reset she’s begun to understand who we are together.
“Ava, I want to be the keeper of your memories. No matter how many times you lose them, I want to be there to remind you of who we are.”
Ava watches my face. I wait, suspended between anxiety and what is next. She’s run from me before, feared me, gotten angry, and I’ve had to fight to get her back.
But I will not walk away. Not today. Not ever. Not as long as there is a chance of getting her to return to the love that binds us once she finds it again.
“You’re not going to give up on me, are you?” she asks.
“You’re all I want.”
“We should record this, then,” she says.
“My phone is busy at the moment playing the music.”
She pulls hers from her pocket. “We’ll use mine.”
She flips it to show our faces and presses record.
“I’m Ava Roberts, and I’m here with Tucker Giddings in the disco room of the children’s hospital. Apparently, this is where we met.”
“We’ve chosen better music this time,” I say. “But as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter where we go or what we hear. The heart remembers.”
“I like that,” she says. “The heart remembers. Maybe I’ll get that tattooed on me to go with the others. Right over my heart.”
“I’ll get one, too.”
“It’s a plan.” She tucks the phone back into her pocket. “So, are you going to kiss me or what?”
“You ready for that?”
“Does a girl always have to ask for her first kiss?”
“It’s not exactly your first kiss.”
“Okay, so not my first first kiss. Or my second.” Her face scrunches up as she thinks.
“It’s our fifth,” I tell her. “Our fifth first kiss.”
A smile breaks across her face. “All right then, Tucker Giddings. What does a girl have to do to get her fifth first kiss?”
I draw her close. The colored light washes over us, the music humming from the speaker.
Taylor Swift, of course. In every iteration, Ava is a Swiftie.
We resume a gentle sway, and I swear the world goes completely still as my lips meet hers.
She’s back to me. I can feel it in the tingle that passes between us.
We’re back. Another new beginning.
I’m the luckiest man on earth.
With this kiss, we get to fall in love all over again.
Thank you so much for reading This Kiss. In the Afterword, I talk about how epilepsy has affected our family.
This Love is now available, the second part of Tucker and Ava’s journey where they plan a beautiful wedding day, but a seizure strikes. I will eventually tell their entire extraordinary life story in three books, but each can stand alone.
I find peace in the ups and downs of my life by creating dynamic new situations involving the issues from my own home. They help me cope. I hope they help you, too.
XO, Deanna