The Memory Child (12 page)

What good were his prom
ises now?

If he were here, I’d hit him. Slap him so hard that the palm of my hand would sting and the sound of flesh hitting flesh would ring in both our ears. Then I’d pound my fists into his chest before throwing my arms around him and telling him how much I loved him and missed him. I hated him, loved him, missed him, and needed him
too much.

Nina would say that I should focus on myself and not worry about Brian. She would say that I needed to get strong, to rebuild whatever I felt
I’d lost.

I felt like I’d lost everything, though, so how could I re-crea
te it all?

The only thing I had left was Grace. Sweet, angelic Grace who had no idea of the world she’d been born into. Her father had gone missing and her mother had go
ne crazy.

“Diane?”

“Go away.” I stayed hunched over, sobbing into the pillow pressed tight to my face. I was tired of Nina always seeing me at m
y lowest.

The door crea
ked open.

“Leave me alone!” My throat hurt from screaming so hard. I threw the pillow toward the door, not watching to see where i
t landed.

The scene from earlier played over in my mind. Over and over
and over.

The look on Charlie’s face when I told her Grace was okay. The way she concentrated on my well-being rather than my daughter’s. How she barely glanced at the stroller as we continued our walk, pretending nothing
happened.

“Diane, we need
to talk.”

The pillow I’d thrown at the door dropped to my side. I glanced up to find Nina kneeling beside me, holding a glass of water in her hand. She held it
out to me.

I tried to swallow but by now my throat was raw. I took the glass and sipped until half of the liquid inside
was gone.

“What? What’s there to talk about? According to you, I almost got myself killed for something as insignificant as my daughter’s life.” I started to laugh. What else could I do? Within a matter of minutes, I’d experienced anger, despair, and now…
now what?

“I was scared. I handled that wrong. I’m sorry.” Nina helped me stand to my feet. My legs were numb and I almost lost my balance. “Please for
give me?”

I sat down on my bed and curled my legs beneath me. Nina sat down opposite me. The silence between us stretched until
I nodded.

“How are you feeling right now? Do you have a headache? Are you n
auseous?”

“I feel out of control. It’s like I’m on an emotional roller coaster that has no end.” I leaned back on my hands and noticed Grace’s bassinet on my bed. My hand shot out and grabbed hold of one of the handles. I’d almost forgotten
about her.

It was like being sucker punched. I’d almost forgotten
about her.

“Grace.” I whispered her name, horrified at the re
alization.

“Shh, now. It’s all right.” Nina placed her hand o
n my knee.

I shook my head. No, it wasn’t all right. It was far from a
ll right.

“I forgot about her. I forgot about Grace. Don’t tell Brian. Please, please don’t tell Brian,” I pleaded to Nina. “What kind of moth
er am I?”

Relief shone in Nina’s eyes and I hated her for a brief moment. She shook her head, as if she could read my
thoughts.

“No, no. It’s okay. Never doubt the kind of mother you are. The moment you realized you were pregnant, you did everything you could to prot
ect her.”

I shook my head, wanting
to object.

Nina s
topped me.

“Trust yourself, Diane. We talked about this, remember? Yes, in the beginning you weren’t sure you were ready to have a baby, but every time there was a choice between taking care of the child inside of you or doing what you wanted, like having a drink, you always chose your child over yourself. You are the perfect kind of mother. One who put her child ahead of herself. Always. It doesn’t matter how long your child is with you, once a mother, always a
mother.”

“I need Brian. I need him here, Nina. Why isn’t he returning my calls or e-mails? It’s been too long, Nina. He’s been gone too long.” My voice hitched as I begged her to give me
an answer.

“Diane—”

“No.” I fisted the covers in my hand. “Don’t you find that odd? I heard him ask you for updates before he left. Have you? Has he r
esponded?”

At the widening of her eyes, it was like a light went off. I shot up from the bed and slapped Nina. Hard. My hand stung as her cheek f
lamed red.

“You have. And you haven’t told me.” Betrayal swept through me. She’d lied to me. “How could you?” My body vibrated with anger. Nina just stared up at me. She didn’t say a word. Nothing to exonerate herself or explain why she’d kept silent.
Nothing.

“Get out.” My voice was low but steady. Despite the whirling chaos, I was centered. Calm. I knew one thing and one th
ing only.

“Get out of my room. Get out of my house. Stay away from me and my
family.”

I took a step back and watched as she slowly got to her feet. I couldn’t read the look on her face. For a moment, I could have sworn she was proud of me, but then in the next moment, I could tell she was
worried.

I wanted to stop her, to tell her I was sorry, that I didn’t mean it, but
I didn’t.

I just prayed she knew. I wasn’t sure what I would do wi
thout her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Brian

May 2013

I
can’t believe I let you talk me into doi
ng this.”

Brian held tight to Diane’s hand as he led her up the walkway to the house he knew was meant for them. He fell in love with it the moment he first saw it on the real-estate website. Now he just needed Diane to feel the
same way.

It was perfect. From the white picket fence to the garden walkway and front porch where they could drink their coffee early in the morning and wave to their neighbors. The side garage didn’t detract from the front of the house, and the backyard left plenty of room for a child or two to play in, maybe even
a puppy.

“Just keep an open mind.” Brian squeezed her hand as they followed the real-estate agent up the por
ch steps.

It had taken quite a bit of convincing on Brian’s part to get Diane here. He’d been working on her slowly, showing her home designs and listings and throwing out ideas on what they could do in a different house for the past two months. With her morning sickness over, her mood improved and there was no more talk of not having their baby. Actually, there wasn’t much talk of the bab
y at all.

“I’m going to let you two just walk through the house while I sit out here on the porch and enjoy the beautiful weather. Let me know if you have any questions.” The Realtor stepped out of the way while Brian led Diane through the o
pen door.

The moment he heard her tiny gasp he knew everything would
be okay.

Brian wasn’t even sure how to describe this house. It was home. He felt that the moment he’d first seen it and he was sure Diane felt it now. At least, he hoped she did. It was clean, simple, and bright with clear and crisp lines. It had the wide trim work around the doors and windows like Diane loved, a white bookshelf right in the entranceway, and the chocolate-colored hardwood she always ra
ved over.

He couldn’t wait for her to see the kitchen
, though.

“You feel it, don’t you?” He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close as she took in all the details. He followed her gaze as she studied the circular staircase going upstairs and then looked through the French doors into a large study with a sparkling chandelier over an antique secret
ary desk.

Brian pointed to the back wall. “I bet the owner is a writer. Or a librarian.” It would explain the many bookshelves throughout t
he house.

“I love the office.” Diane beamed a smile at him as she opened one of the French doors and stepped into the office. Framed book covers lined one wall; on another rested an enormous corkboard where pictures and scraps of paper wer
e pinned.

“Can’t you see yourself working in here?” Make it personal. That was his goal today. To help his wife see herself in t
his house.

She trailed her hand down the arm of a large leather chair a
nd sighed.

“It’s gorgeous and exactly what I’d picture a writer’s office to look like, if a writer did li
ve here.”

He reached for her hand and led her into the living room. He imagined them sitting there, on the couch in front of the fireplace, both with books in hand while their little one slept in a bassinet beside them. Tranquil. At peace. He pulled Diane into his arms and gave her a kiss. The look of surprise in her eyes melted away as she leaned forward and pressed herself into him, kissing
him back.

“You like this house, don’t you?” She placed her hand on his chest and smiled. He loved to see that, to see how easily it came. Today was a
good day.

“I do. I’ll tell you why after, though. I want you to see t
he rest.”

He led her through to the kitchen. He expected a similar response to when they first walked into the house—a slight gasp—but there was nothing. She pulled her hand from his and leaned against the kitchen counte
r instead.

“Don’t you
like it?”

She
shrugged.

He glanced around the room, puzzled at how she couldn’t like this room. From the antique white stain to the stainless-steel appliances, it was a chef’s dream come true. Or his dream,
at least.

“It’s a nice kitchen, Brian. Actually, it’s a gorgeous kitchen. I have a feeling every room in this house is like this—well thought out, extensive detail, and everything anyone could ever want. I’m not sure what you’re expecting from me. Do you want me to fall in love with it? I think you already have.” She pushed herself away from the counter and grabbed one of the bottles of water left on the counter with a sign for guests to help t
hemselves.

“I was thinking that maybe you could see yourself making this place our home.” Maybe he’d been fooling
himself.

The look in Diane’s eye was one he’d only seen a few times during their marriage. It wasn’t often that Diane took a step back and gave in, not unless she knew that in the end the results would be worth it. But he knew that if he asked it of her, if he said he really wanted them to move into this place, she’d do it. Not because she wanted to, not because she’d fallen in love with the house, but becaus
e he had.

But that wasn’t what he wanted this time. He wanted her to want this too. He needed her to
want this.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” He shook his head and headed toward the front hall, passing her as she stood there, watc
hing him.

“Where are you going?” She’d reached out and placed her hand on his arm, stop
ping him.

“To let the Realtor know she doesn’t need to wait around.” He managed to keep his voice neutral, masking his disap
pointment.

“You might as well show me the rest of the house before you do that.” Whether she intended for him to hear the sigh or not, he did. He jerked his arm away from her touch and forced himself to take a deep breath. Getting upset wasn’t going to help anything, but damn, did she need to make it s
o obvious?

Diane wound her fingers through his and took the lead, walking through the hallway until they were back in the main foyer. They’d missed a few rooms off the kitchen, and he wanted to show her the sunroom and then the backyard, but she pulled him along until they reached the
stairway.

“Remember how we used to talk about having a spiral staircase in our house? We used to dream so much in those first years.” There was a wistfulness to her words. It was one of the first things he’d thought of when he walked into this house for the first time, but he hadn’t been sure if s
he would.

“You used to boast you’d slide down the railings in the morning.” Diane smiled at him while he chuckled at
the memory

“I’m not sure that would be such a good idea anymore,
” he said.

She placed her palm on the polished wood railing and slowly climbed th
e stairs.

“No, you wouldn’t want to teach our son bad manners, now, wo
uld you?”

Brian swallowed hard. His chest tightened at th
e thought.

“Son?”

Diane continued her climb but glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Or d
aughter.”

Diane had just had her three-month ultrasound, but they’d decided together not to find out the sex of the baby. For a moment, he’d wondered if she’d changed her mind and convinced the technician to tell her after
the fact.

“What would you like to show me first?” She stood at the top of the stairs and looked down the hallway. To the right was the master bedroom and to the left were the oth
er rooms.

“Tur
n right.”

When he’d first walked through the house, he couldn’t believe the master bedroom. The Realtor had called it the
master wing
and hadn’t lied. Half of the upstairs was dedicated to it. From the moment you walked into the bedroom it felt like another section of the house. To the left was a small sitting area, complete with electric fireplace, love seat, and a wall-mounted television, and to the right was an office section with filled bookshelves and a writing desk. Straight ahead was the bedroom; beyond that was the en su
ite bath.

Diane stood at the windows, curtain pulled, and glanced out into the
backyard.

“What do yo
u think?”

“It’s gorgeous. I can’t think of any other word to describe this house. A home most women would love to have.” She turned. “This room is a haven. I’m not sure I’d want to leave. You might have to bring me my coffee and meals.” She smil
ed at him.

“I could do that.” He knew she’d been teasing, but h
e wasn’t.

“What about you, though? Where is your dream come true? You didn’t pick this house out just
for me.”

He cocked his head. She still didn’t get it, after all these years. She didn’t u
nderstand.

“You are my dream come true, Diane. You and this miracle of ours.” He placed his hand gently over the tiny swell that was starting
to form.

She sighed, covered his hand with hers, and placed a kiss on
his lips.

“You’re too good to me,” she whispered into his mouth before pulling away. “What else is there
to see?”

Brian smiled. “Follow me.” He couldn’t wait to show her one of his favorite rooms in the house. Yes, the kitchen forced his culinary cravings to run at full tilt, but it was the one room down the hall that made his heart sing
the most.

“Is there a secret room full of computers and plasma screens on all the walls?” Diane laughed as she followed him out of the master bedroom and down
the hall.

Brian bypassed the bathroom and the two bedrooms. There was nothing special about them. But he stopped at the only room that had a closed door. At one time, the house had had a bonus room, but the owners had torn down the wall between that room and this bedroom and created an oasis for a sma
ll child.

He waited till Diane stood beside him and then he opened
the door.

He would never forget the first time he saw t
his room.

The walls were cream and on one hung a carpet that Brian knew would be soft to the touch. A crib painted antique white sat in front of that wall with a blanket the color of sand draped over it. The room spoke of elegance, and he knew right away that Diane would love it. In one corner sat a rocking chair; in another was a large unique wooden rocki
ng horse.

“It’s beautiful.” Diane squeezed his hand before heading toward the horse and trailing her fingers over its th
ick mane.

“It’s perfect, isn’t it?” Brian couldn’t contain the joy in his voice. She liked it. A small part of him had been worried, unsure if this was the type of room she’d want for their baby. He would have preferred a more regular baby room, with some blue or pink, but he knew that might be going too far f
or Diane.

She stopped in front of the crib, one hand on the blanket while she touched the carpet on
the wall.

“I’ve seen this look in magazines before. It’s nice. I like how it softens the room.” She turned, leaning on the crib, and rubbed
her belly.

Brian stepped closer to her and covered her hand with his. “I thought it might be the perfect room for our lit
tle one.”

Diane’s eyes relaxed at his words and a shot of pure joy swept through him. His goal was to have her as excited about their baby as he was. She wasn’t there yet, but she
would be.

“I’m surprised. I thought you would want to go all out and paint the room pink or blue and I’d have to convince you to accent in color instead.” There was a twinkle in her eye. “But I can see why this is your favorite room. I can picture you at night, in the rocking chair, trying to get your son or daughter to sleep.” The edges of her lips teased into a smile as she wrapped her arms around him and leaned close. “I hope the room is soundproof so at least one of us c
an sleep.”

Brian pulled back. “Who said I get all the night
watches?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of you teaching our child code in the middle of the night. It always works to put me to sleep.” She shrugged while playfully flicking at his chest with her finger. He caught her hand, brought it up to his lips, and laid a kiss on
her palm.

“Seriously, I think this house, this room, is perfect for us. Don’t you?” Br
ian asked.