Amnesia (36 page)

“Mom, are you okay, is everything alright?” she asked, fearing the worst.

“Oh Beverley, I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” Tawny pulled her daughter into her chest, clutching her tightly, as if afraid she might lose her. The sobs broke free again and they sat there for a long moment before the elder woman had gained enough control to speak again.

“My lovely, lovely daughter, what horrors I’ve put you through. Can you ever forgive me? I know I don’t deserve it, but is it at all possible?”

She pulled back to look into Beverley’s eyes, searching for the sincerity and depth she had only just recognized had been there for so long. Instead she found fear mingled with a healthy portion of tears.

“Mom, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“Nothing dear, nothing’s wrong. I just finally realized how awful I’ve been to you, and I’m so very sorry. Oh please, please, can you find a way to forgive me. I will do anything I can to make up for it all.” She began to weep again, the sobs threatening to begin again.

“Oh Mom, I love you.” Beverley assured. “Nothing has ever changed that. I know about your dreams. I understand why you did what you have done. There is nothing there to forgive.”

“I should have opened my eyes long enough to see your dreams,” Tawny replied. “It was my obligation as your mother to help you find what you want, not the other way around. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Beverley countered, “you were just doing what you thought was best. I understand that. I just need you to understand that we don’t have the same dream. You need the love of your fellowmen, and I need the love of Peter and the Lord. And of course you and Daddy. That’s all there is to it.”

“Well that’s going to change right now.” Tawny declared vehemently. “From now on my dream is to have a happy and healthy family. Nothing more, nothing less. I realized tonight how empty my fantasy was, how all I really needed was right here with you and your father. And I intend to do whatever it takes to make that dream last as long as possible.” Tawny felt a surge of conviction from her statement, along with a feeling of joy and fulfillment, something she had never experienced before, and yearned to keep with her.

“Someday I will tell you just how you can make that dream permanent, throughout time and all eternity,” Beverley said. “That’s what I’ve wanted to share with you for so long now, but you just didn’t seem to want to know.”

Tears coursed freely down both ladies faces—symbols of freedom and happiness. Again they embraced, their tears mingling, uniting and becoming one, just as their spirits were uniting and becoming one. They stayed that way for a long moment, until Tawny backed away again.

“Now you’d better get some sleep. You’ve had quite an ordeal, and its time for some good old-fashioned sleep. Tomorrow I’d like to talk to you more about all of this, but now I need to go talk to your father. He deserves a heartfelt apology too.”

She stood and went back to the open door, the hall lights spilling into the darkened room, illuminating the bed and its occupant. The light reflected serenely from Beverley’s face, causing it to glow as it were with an aura of love and peace. Tawny turned and looked at her daughter, noting the shine, and felt an overwhelming surge of love and peace.

“I love you Beverley,” she said softly, so as not to disturb the moment. “Good-night.”

“I love you too, Mom,” the supine form responded with a sleepy yawn. “Good-night.”

She turned, exited the room, and pulled the door softly closed. A smile crept across her face as she reveled in the bliss of her newfound relationship. She may have lost her fantasy tonight, but she found her dream.

*
             
             
*
             
             
*

Bill pulled the headphones off of his ears and rubbed his tired eyes. He was exhausted, couldn’t even remember the last time he had a good
night’s
rest. He looked up at the clock on the Police Department wall and located the hands indicating it was 2:23 AM. He was getting nowhere, and after the euphoria of finding Scardoni’s phone he was feeling very let down.

He pushed “stop” on the small cassette recorder in front of him, stood and stretched his cramped muscles, and decided it was time for a break. He picked up his empty cup, intending to refill it, and headed toward the break room to find some ice and water. While there he deposited a dollar bill into the vending machine, and retrieved a bag of Fritos. The taste of the chips reminded him that he had neglected more than just sleep over the past several days. And he was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to make sense of all this.

He pulled the sling off of his aching left arm and gingerly stretched the muscle as far as it would go. Lissa had warned him that the muscle would take some time to heal completely, that he shouldn’t push the recovery, but that he needed to exercise it regularly as well. That shouldn’t be a problem, he enjoyed working his muscles out; not only did it create endorphins and serotonin, the body’s natural way of producing pleasure, but also a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment in meeting goals and looking fit. Tonight, however, the last thing he could think about was a gym, and his aching shoulder painfully reminded him of his fatigue.

He finished the chips, tossed the empty bag in the large receptacle, and took his ice water back to the table that had become his impromptu desk. He rubbed his hurting ears, raw from wearing the headphones, and sat down heavily in the chair. He knew he was missing a vital piece of information, but he just couldn’t pull it together.

He leaned back in the chair, resting his head on the back of the seat, and closed his bloodshot eyes. He needed sleep, he knew, and wanted desperately to find a bed and sleep for at least a week. At the same time he felt compelled to find an answer, if for no better reason than to give his companions peace of mind. Lissa deserved at least that.

Lissa. He had met her only a week and a half ago, and already she held a place in his life that he would never have thought possible. At first he believed that she might be able to replace the void created when Lacy was taken from him, but it was never the same, he now realized. When he had seen her and Robbie together, he thought he should be jealous and angry. Instead he was happy and a little relieved. Not how a possible suitor should react.

Still she meant a great deal to him, perhaps more like a younger sister that needed his protection. It was the same way he felt about Shirley, Curt’s fiancée, and even Beverley Windham and Peter Frindle. They were his family now, and he would do anything and everything he could to ensure their safety and happiness. And how he should feel about Carrie Price—only he didn’t.

She had spent the entire night sitting with him in the emergency room as the doctor x-rayed, prodded, and slung the bullet wound. Initially she had felt obligated to be there, since it was because of her estranged, now dead, husband that he had been hurt anyway. And that he had been there in the role of her protector, an act that had cost him a hefty price.

Then slowly she began to explain how she had fallen in love with the charismatic man, how he had showered her with expensive gifts and flattery, easily turning her head, until she felt empty when he was absent. She began seeking out his company simply to hear his wonderful words that he cast about her, a net ensnaring her, binding her to him. He had told her how he needed her and would cease to exist without her by his side. She had eagerly accepted every word; it was only natural, as he had told her exactly what she had wanted to hear.

They had married in the temple, as was expected of the outwardly pious pair they appeared, and had an expensive and well publicized reception, befitting a rising star that would someday be a political force to be reckoned with. It was the fulfillment of all young girls’ dreams.

Yet as she recounted the experiences to Bill that night, she admitted that there had been signs that she had ignored, indications that all was not as it appeared. For one, her parents were decidedly against the man, despite finding no obvious reason for disapproval. She had dismissed it as overprotective parents not willing to give up their little girl, but in retrospect she realized that they had probably recognized that he was not all he declared to be.

There was also something a little off about the gifts he gave her, and how he reacted to them. Once he bought her a dress that was far too revealing, but he insisted that it simply emphasized her natural beauty, and convinced her to wear it for him, regardless of her initial aversion to wear something so immodest. There were dozens of such examples, but she thrived on how he massaged her ego, building her pride until she was addicted to the feelings he promoted. If only she had listened to the loving concern of those around her, heeded the promptings that warned her of what was to come.

She went on to tell him about the abuse, holding nothing back, opening herself up to him, allowing her vulnerability to show to this man she hardly knew, but implicitly trusted. Together they had talked and cried, she taking advantage of the catharsis, he growing in amazement and wonder at this tiny woman with such hidden horrors and strengths.

Somewhere in their conversation he realized how badly he yearned to take this lovely woman and cradle her in his arms, keeping her safe from the torrential rains that had fallen on her life, stopping any more rain from falling. These feelings reached well beyond simple duty or chivalry, but took root deeper in his heart. He had told her nothing of the feelings of course, but he wondered at their intensity.

He freely admitted to himself that he had never experienced this type of feeling before. Of course being a police officer he felt a natural inclination to watch out for the defenseless, but never like this. Even with Lacy he hadn’t felt this way, although he was always concerned for her safety and happiness. This was just different.

His thoughts turned to Lacy and wondered again, for at least the thousandth time, how she felt about what he was doing, and how he was faring. Would she be proud of him? Or disappointed? Would she approve of his dealings with God and his fellowmen? Would she still be anxious to be with him for eternity, as she was when they first married? Tonight, however, another question occurred to him—would she like and approve of Carrie?

He was startled at the intensity of feelings that single question created in him, especially since he had asked the others so often with no reaction. This one, however, left him feeling somewhat breathless. As if in answer to his query his breast was filled with a sudden influx of warmth and peace. Tears sprang to his eyes as the feeling of wonder and bliss filled him, as if someone had unstoppered his heart and poured the feeling directly in.

In that moment he felt a closeness with Lacy he had not felt since the moment of their sealing in the temple. The love between them was palpable and left him reeling with its intensity. For a moment he nearly called out to her, but knew she was aware of his feelings. The veil was thinned for a moment and he could feel her presence tangibly.

His memory too was opened, and he saw her as he did that day in the temple, flowing white wedding dress symbolizing the purity of their hearts as they gave themselves to each other for all eternity. He had been dumbstruck with her beauty and grace, and felt himself the luckiest man to have ever lived to have her want to be with him.

Then his memories shifted to the heart-wrenching funeral of his beautiful bride and infant child. For a moment he feared viewing these memories for the searing pain they always engendered, however this time the pervasive feeling of peace overrode the emotion of grief. He remembered the beauty of the simple service, its purpose to remind the mourners that this was but a brief separation, that their loved ones had simply moved on to a new sphere where they waited eagerly to be joined with dear ones still on earth.

He could now easily envision Lacy, dressed all in white again, waiting for her beloved husband to complete his mission in this life. She knew that his journey was fraught with difficulties and dangers and that he would periodically stumble and perhaps occasionally stray from the correct path. She understood too that for this reason alone he must not travel the path forever a solitary figure. Bill knew in that brief instant exactly what Lacy thought of his struggles, how he was doing, and that she wanted him to have a companion. And if it was agreeable to the two of them, she would love to share her love with a sister like Carrie.

Bill wept with joy as the vision closed, and he was left sitting at the long table. He knew his family was being well taken care, that they loved him and were proud of him, and that they were eager for him to find happiness. He wondered for a moment if he had dreamed it all, but quickly decided that no dream could produce the feelings of peace in his heart. He made up his mind then that he would seek out Carrie in the morning, to spend time with her, no matter the end result of that time.

He smiled widely, feeling lighter and refreshed. Like a new man. A man given a new lease on life. He thought of Robbie, and how he had a new life now, a clean slate to start over and create of himself anything he wanted.  He thought of the parallel between their stories; how Bill had been living life as in a coma, just as Robbie had been. Before then he had been drowning in grief and pain from the inability to save his family, struggling to find sense and reason, just as Robbie had been struggling in the water for breath and life.