The Memory Child (23 page)

I gave my head a quick shake but then gasped. I remembered. I remembered Brian thought it was creepy when I mentioned it to him and so I didn’t tell him I’d given Walter a copy of our 3-D ultrasound. Walter wanted to get me a doll as a gift. Something we could keep for our child. And if we had a little girl, she could play with the doll as she grew. I didn’t like the idea; I actually agreed with Brian that it was creepy, but this was a close friend of Walter’s who was trying to get her business going, so as a favor, I
said yes.

“I made Walter cancel the order, though, after Brian said he didn’t like t
he idea.”

Nina shrugged. “Walter forgot. Around Christmas, a package arrived at the door. I had gone out to run some errands; otherwise I would have caught the delivery and maybe none of this would have happened.” Defeat washed over her as she finally looked
up at me.

I knew right away she blamed herself for all of this. Whatever all of
this was.

“So Walter didn’t…come to the house and leave the box?” I remembered that or at least, I thought I did. When Nina pursed her lips together I knew that’s not how it
happened.

She leaned forward and clasped her hands over her knees. “You opened the box and inside was a tiny baby, the same size Grace would have been. It was too much for you to process. When I came home, you were up in the nursery rocking the doll as if it we
re real.”

No. No, she was wrong. I would have known that it was only a doll. Maybe she’d caught me at a weak moment. Tha
t was all.

“Grace isn’t alive?” My world splintered apart. I could feel the cracks as they happened in my heart, the way they ripped me apart one
at a time.

“No, honey. S
he’s not.”

“And Brian’s not in London? He didn’t l
eave me?”

Nina blinked but didn’t
respond.

“All those letters from him that you’d give me in the mornings…they were real, right?” I needed to know that I didn’t make those up.
Please say they
were real.

“They’re all right here.” Diane reached for a shoebo
x beneath
my bed.

I reached for it, opened the lid, and sighed with relief to find a little bit of reality inside this box. Memories I won’t need to worry were real or not. I saw a little Post-it note that said
I love you
and swallowed back a lump in
my throat.

“Was anything else real? Our morning teas and sitting outside in the backyard? Going into work? What about the baby book I’ve been working on? And Charlie? Where is my sister?” I squeezed the bridge of my nose as I clenched my eyes closed. My head throbbed from the
pressure.

Nina’s touch on my knee startled me. She knelt in front of me, tears in her eyes. “As soon as she could, Charlie came home. She’s been here every day to sit
with you.”

“Where is she then?” I didn’t know what t
o believe.

“She’ll be here shortly. Marcus met her in Texas and they both flew in this morning. She’ll be here soon.” Nina’s shoulders dropped. “I’m so sorry, Diane. I’m s
o sorry.”

I glanced around the room we were in and saw it clearly. The simple bed with a small rug for my cold feet in the morning. The bedside table with no adornments. The four white walls that were bare
and cold.

“I’ve gone crazy, ha
ven’t I?”

Nina’s eyes closed. She bowed her head but I heard the words. I would never fo
rget them.

Yes.

“I’m just like my mother. A
ren’t I?”

Nina nodded. “You have postpartum ps
ychosis.”

That was all I needed to hear. I w
as crazy.

“You’re not crazy. You have a hormonal imbalance that was triggered by traumatic events your brain couldn’t handle p
roperly.”

Traumatic events. I could still hear Grace’s laughter; I could see her smile. I could feel Brian’s arms around me as he held me close, the kiss he gave me when I dropped him off at the
airport.

How could that not be
real? How?

“I don’t understand. It’s all so real to me.” My throat ached as I swallowed past the lump lod
ged there.

Nina reached for the journal on
the desk.

“Every day you would write in this journal. Instead of dealing with your loss, your mind wanted to protect itself. So you retreated into a world where Grace was still alive. It’s all here.” She opened the book and flipped through the pages. She wore a sad smile as she read some of
the words.

“Without fail, as soon as we had our tea in the morning, you would come back to your room, sit at this desk, and write in here. This was your way of keeping Grace real while learning to deal with Brian
’s loss.”

“But I didn’t know he w
as dead.”

“No. But you knew he’d left you. This was just an easier way for you to handle the loss.
For now.”

She handed me the
journal.

“Our minds are a mystery. We all handle tragedy differently. This has been hard on you. And it’s a lot to
process.”

There was a soft knock on the door. Nina squeezed my shoulder as she went to answer it. I held the journal in my hands and felt like my whole world had just been destroyed in o
ne swoop.

I recognized Charlie’s voice on the other side of the door. So she was real. She was rea
lly here.

“Charlie?” I called out. As soon as my little sister rushed into the room with her arms out wide, I couldn’t control myself any longer and my body doubled over with the weight of reality pressing down hard. I sobbed as she caught me and held
me tight.

“It’s okay, honey; it’s okay. I promise. We’ll get through this. I’m right here. You’re not alone.” Her soothing voice calmed me as she continued t
o hold me.

Nothing I knew was real. Nothing. I wasn’t sure which was better: living in reality or living in a dreamworld I’d obviously created f
or myself.

Something told me the answer to that question lay in the journal I still held. I pulled away from her and wiped at
my tears.

“It’s all t
rue then?”

No one said anything, but I knew, no matter how many times I asked the question, the answer would be the same
. Always.

Brian was dead. Grace…I’d never hold Grace in my arms again. I wanted to crawl back under the thin covers and force myself to sleep. Maybe then I’d go back to the world where my baby was sti
ll alive.

I grabbed hold of Charlie’s hand and squeezed. “This jour
nal…
” I didn’t have the words to finish what I wanted to say, what I neede
d to ask.

Charlie knelt down in front of me. “Remember the journals we used to write in as kids when we first moved in with Aunt Mags? Think of this book like one of those journals. We used to make up stories about what life would be like if Mom had been around, remember? And then when you started talking again before me, you’d tell me stories about our parents—” Charlie’s voice broke as she struggled to contain the tears I could see glimmering in
her eyes.

I nodded my head, remembering that time. I used to make up stories for her, stories that hid the scars, the fears that kept her locked inside her head. Aunt Mags used to tell me I had a gift
for words.

I wanted to fling the journal away from me. I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to open it and read about the world I’d created for myself. A world based on a false
reality.

“None of this is true then? Nothing in this book happened? It was all in my head?” I tried to wrap my head around that but couldn’t. It would mean that I never sat with Grace outside; we never went on that walk where I lost control of her stroller; I never took pictures and sent them to Brian…oh G
od, Brian.

“Some of it was real. What you wrote about when I came home, that was real. Being outside, the walks we took…some of it was real.” Charlie swallowed hard. I noticed her ri
ng finger.

“What about Marcus? Was any of th
at real?”

A soft smile grew on Charlie’s face. “That was real. And he’s here. He flew in, since he knew I wasn’t going to be returning to the camp for
a while.”

I nodded. At least she would have Marcus, while I had nothing but my memories. “My phone, where is my phone?” I took thousands of pictures of Grace. I know I did. If I could just see them, then maybe this was a nightmare and I’
d wake up.

But I could tell by the slight shake of Nina’s head that this was no n
ightmare.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I rubbed my forehead with my fingers, trying to dispel the dull thud of a headache forming. Nina must have caught my gesture as she placed her hand on Charlie’s
shoulder.

“Why don’t we grab some breakfast?” Nina suggested. “This is a lot to process and we don’t need to do it all
at once.”

Charlie nodded. “Maybe we could go for a walk outside? Try to clear our heads and take in the f
resh air?”

I sat there, unsure of what to do or how to react. Pressure built up in my chest and there was nothing I wanted to do more than lie down. I shook my head and groaned as a wave of dizziness swep
t over me.

“I need a moment,” I mumbled. I wasn’t sure anyone heard me, since they were talking between themselves, so I pushed myself to my feet and took the necessary two steps t
o my bed.

“Diane?” Charlie pulled back the covers for me and I curled up on my side, clutching the journal tight to my chest. What I wanted was to hold my baby close, to breathe in that baby-fresh smell, but I couldn’t. I would never be able to do t
hat again.

“Did I even get to hold her?” I
whispered.

Charlie sat down beside me. “You did, for a long time. She was so tiny and beautiful. You called her you
r angel.”

My angel. I wished I could reme
mber that.

“Brian? Did I say good-bye
to him?”

“Oh, honey.” Charlie’s breath hitched. “You did. Walter arranged a memorial for him and you were there. You don’t r
emember?”

I shook my head and fought against the swell of tears forming. I didn’t want to cry. I refused to cry. Not now. Later, when I was alone and the whispers in my head wer
e quieter.

“It’s okay, Diane. Memory loss is normal after electroshock therapy,” Nina said before she opened
the door.

“Shock therapy?” I didn’t even know how to process this. My body started to shake and Charlie reached fo
r my hand.

“It’s going to be okay, Dee. I promise. It’s a good thing. It brought you bac
k to us.”

My eyes filled with tears as I tried to process everything. It brought me back, but to what? I’m all alone now. Without Brain, without Grace…
who was I?

After Nina left the room, I sat up and scooted across the bed until my back was against the wall. I pulled the blanket over my legs and then leaned my head against Charlie’s shoulder as she sat b
eside me.

“Will you help me know what was real and what wasn’t?” I laid the journal in my lap, trying to find the courage I wasn’t sure I had, and opened up to the fi
rst page.

“Of course I will,” Charlie whisper
ed to me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Diane

Six months later

I
held a picture frame in my hand and glanced around the almost empty room. Six months had passed since that day in the hospital when I realized my world had turned upside down. Six long months of therapy, medication, and trying to sort reality from the dreamworld I still wished I
lived in.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help in here?” Nina stood at the bedroom door of what was supposed to have been Grace’s
baby room.

“No, I need to do this. You kn
ow that.”

She gave me a sad smile before she moved on to pack up the loft area. I could hear the small talk between her and Charlie as they worked on packing the items I wanted to take with us. After being permanently released from the hospital two months ago, I’d been staying with Charlie and Marcus in a condo they’d bought. Since arriving that day in my hospital room when my brain decided to wake up and face the real world, both my sister and her fiancé had decided it was time to put down roots. They were in the process of opening a clinic in the city and were talking of adopting a child from the Congo once things set
tled down.

By “settled down,” I knew they were referr
ing to me.

It had been Nina who came up with an alternate living arrangement for me so that Charlie and Marcus could move on with t
heir life.

“Hey, Diane? Are you sure you don’t want to take your bed with you? It’ll be more comfortable than Nina’s spare bed; trust me on that,” Charlie c
alled out.

“I’ll buy a new one; it’s okay.” The last thing I wanted was to sleep in a bed full of memories. Brian’s ghost would always be there with me and I needed a clean break. I would never forget my husband, but I couldn’t continue to think he was still only in London and soon to return home. No matter how much I
wanted to.

I stared at the ultrasound in my hand and desperately tried to recall the feel of Grace in my arms, the real weight of her as I held her lifeless body in the hospital, not the memory of the doll that I’d carried around pretending was Grace. I wish I could remember those moments, those hours, those days, even if it meant reliving both her and Brian’s death. I wanted nothing else more. But for some reason, those memories w
ere gone.

The doctor said they could return, that one day I may see something that will trigger those hidden moments, but not to expect them. I wanted to, though, I really
wanted to.

As hard as they would be, I welcomed the full reality of what happened to me. I couldn’t hide from it; I re
fused to.

I grabbed some tissue paper and wrapped that ultrasound image before placing it in the box on the ground beside me. Later today Marcus would come and pack up the baby furniture and drop it off at the local women’s shelter; tomorrow a local charity would pick up the other furniture and household items I di
dn’t need.

Nina lived in a small cottage-type home just off the bay and she had graciously suggested that I move in with her. I loved being with Charlie and Marcus, but I knew I was holding them back from moving forward with their life, and since I considered Nina part of my family, I didn’t hesitate to take her up on h
er offer.

I was taking baby steps back into the real world. I wasn’t ready to return to work and Walter understood that. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I ever would be ready to return there. I’m not sure I could live that life again, be that woman who was in charge of a company. I had a hard enough time managing daily activities when left on my own. I didn’t recognize who I was anymore but I knew that one day I would. Until then, as Nina continued to tell me, I needed only to focus on myself and my health. Everything else after that would fall i
nto place.

“Don’t forget, Marcello is saving a table for us tonight for dinner.” Charlie stood behind me and reached for one of the stuffed teddy bears that lined the shelf above Grace’s crib. She pointed to the box and I shook my head. I kept one stuffed animal of hers, one that Brian and I had picked out together. It was a little lion with the softest fur for a mane and even now, it melted my heart to
hold it.

“Sounds good.” When I started to get day-trips from the hospital, the one place I always wanted to go was to Marcello’s restaurant. I’d sit in that little sitting area and watch the people around me. Marcello would always serve me some bruschetta and sparkling water and we’d chat for a little bit before he’d have to leave to greet other customers. Now that I was out for good, the four of us went out for dinner on a wee
kly basis.

“Are you doing okay?” Charlie reached for a little sleeper and folded it before laying it to
the side.

“It’s hard. I remember sitting in that rocker and singing Grace to sleep as if it happened yesterday. It’s a memory I don’t want to lose even though I know it’s n
ot real.”

“I don’t think you need to lose all of them, Dee. Every mother wants to remember the feel of their child in her arms. That’s natural.” Charlie folded another sleeper before she picked up a pile I’d sorted earlier and placed it in a plastic container labeled
Baby
Clothing
.

I picked up a little dress Brian had bought. Toward the end, he would always surprise me with two items for the baby—one for a boy and one for a girl, just in case. I’d already packed the boy clothing, but took my time with the adorable girl
clothing.

“This was one of the first outfits Brian bought for her.” I held up the tiny yellow dress with pink embroidery for Charlie to see. “He was going to buy a tie to match the dress and wear it for a photo with her.” I smiled at the memory of Brian’s enthusiasm. He would have made such a wonderful father. My heart hitched in pain at th
e thought.

“Do you want to keep it?” Charlie placed her hand over mine and
squeezed.

Did I want to keep it? Of course I did. I wanted to keep every outfit that I remembered placing on Grace. I wanted to keep every item that held a piece of memory. My eyes welled up with tears and I quickly shook
my head.

“It’s okay if you do,” she w
hispered.

I folded up the dress in response and handed it to her to place in the container. I’d rather pack up a few items that I wanted
to keep.

Charlie ignored me and placed the dress in the box beside me. “It was one of the first outfits he bought. You should
keep it.”

We worked in silence together, my sister and I, as we packed up the remainder of the nursery. In the end I kept more items than I had intended, but there were so many things I couldn’t part with, not yet. One day, maybe. But my memories of Grace were still too real. I was having a hard time saying good-bye to my
daughter.

When her room was all packed and both Nina and Charlie had gone downstairs to fill up the small rental trailer hooked up to Marcus’s SUV, I sat down in the rocking chair I couldn’t bear to take with me and opened the journal that contained the memories of the life I lived with Grace. I knew they weren’t real. I knew that this had been a dream I’d lived, but they were still my memories and the only ones that I had of my
daughter.

I read the first few lines, tears streaming down my face, and knew I had never written anything more real and more powerful than those first three
sentences.

This was a perfect moment. In the silence, with the hint of dawn peeking through the curtains, where promises of a better day were
offered.

I stared down at the twinkling blue eyes of my sweet darling baby and knew hope for the first time in a long, long time. Grace was everything I didn’t deserve and everything I longed for. Just one look at her bow-shaped lips, wispy blond hair, and sweeping eyelashes, and I knew, from the moment I first saw her, that I could never go back to the way I us
ed to be.