Authors: Anthony Tata
They turned into the den, which was carpeted, and stopped.
Two burgundy sofas were situated on the left of the room, spaced apart by cherry end tables. Four floor-to-ceiling windows punctuated the two walls. A
wood-burning fireplace with oak mantle was centered on the wall directly in front of them. To the right was a plasma television framed by bookshelves. The room looked absolutely normal.
“
Well, this isn’t so bad,” Jake commented.
Amanda was silent, just staring at the fireplace.
Jake gave her a moment, trying to figure out what had transfixed her.
“
I used to read to him right there,” she said, pointing at a small child’s wicker chair next to the fireplace.
“
You mean that he would read to you, right?”
She shook her head quickly. “It was our thing. He would read to me in bed, or tell me stories, is more like it. He told the greatest stories.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “But I would read to him down here. He’d just lie there on the floor tossing a baseball, maybe pushing the fire around, and I would read.”
Jake was trying to figure out his role once she got into the rhythm. What was he supposed to do? Step back and let her immerse herself in her memories, or should he direct her to something, like a counselor. Miss Dwyer should be here, but she wasn’t, and there must be a reason for that, he figured.
As he watched Amanda kneel down and touch the rocker with her hand, a shiver went up his spine. This was like returning to the scene of a crime, he thought to himself.
***
Amanda reached her
hand out, picturing herself rocking and giggling, her father lying on his back with that silly baseball. She would playfully kick him in the ribs when he was trying to catch the ball. He was too quick for her, and he would grab her small leg, stopping her from rocking.
She stroked the wicker seat knowing that she was the last person to ever sit in that chair. “Maybe he wants me to have this,” she whispered. “Maybe that’s all this is about.”
“
We’ve got room in the truck.”
She slowly put her hand to her mouth and started to weep.
What a beautiful memory
, she thought to herself.
Where has it been? Why haven’t I thought about this until now?
Like a white dove released from the magician’s hands, the memory darted from a black trap door in the back of her mind.
“
He should be right there,” she said through wet eyes, pointing at the place where her father would lie on his back. “Why can’t he be right there?” She collapsed onto the chair, convulsing, crying hard.
Jake was upon her in an instant, holding her. This was his mission, he realized. Nobody but him could hold her and make her feel protected.
“
C’mon, Amanda, we’ll get the chair and go.”
“
No! We’re staying until I’m done.” She stood, clumsily pushing against him, but holding onto him at the same time.
She turned toward the bookshelves and stared at the plasma-screen television.
“
What’s this?” Her tears had stopped for the moment, but there was no guarantee that would last. She pulled a taped message from the bottom of the television. It was her father’s handwriting, but it seemed dated. She lifted the note, the Scotch tape resisting her pull. Holding it up so they both could read it, she read the words aloud
:
“Amanda, watch this last. Love, Dad.”
The hand came to the mouth again. Tears came pooling up again. Jake took the note from her hand and hugged her.
“
Let’s go, babe, this is too hard.”
She pushed away. “I said we’re staying.”
She regained her composure and placed the note on one of the bookshelves. Interspersed amongst the different shelves were pictures of Amanda and her father and a few of Zachary and his family.
“
That’s my uncle, Matt. He’s the one who saved my dad during that whole Ballantine thing. Remember the coliseum being bombed and all that?”
“
I reminded you about that, remember? So that’s him? They look a lot alike.”
“
I should call him. I wonder where Uncle Matt is right now.”
SANFORD, NORTH CAROLINA
She led him up the stairs. Each step was a lightly stained oak that had retained its lacquer sheen. Amanda turned immediately to the left as she reached the small, carpeted landing.
“
My room,” she said. “He never changed it.”
They were standing in a small eleven-foot by eleven-foot room. A white-and-yellow bedspread lay crisply atop the twin bed, which was beneath a window against the far wall. Amanda recognized the little sunshine patterns, the reason she had selected the bedding. To her left was the dormer window, and to her right was the cherry bureau with a large mirror. To the left of the dormer was a small desk with a computer. Next to the desk was a closet door that also doubled as the middle dormer of the house. Accordingly, it was well lit.
The door was slightly ajar, inviting.
Amanda pulled on the doorknob and stared into the sun-washed walk-in. She eyed clothes that she had long forgotten, perhaps never even been given the chance to remember. She reached out and pawed a small green velvet dress.
“
Christmas,” she whispered. “In Virginia.”
She stroked the material as if it were the finest silk. Her sullen gaze moved incrementally to another garment, this one a bit larger. She took the T-shirt and jeans combo from the hanging bar and held it at arm’s length. The T-shirt said on the front, “This Kiss.” She flipped it over. “Faith Hill Rocks Fort Bragg.”
“
I forgot all about this. Matt and my dad took me to see Faith Hill.” She dropped her arm and turned to Jake. “How could I have no memory of this,” she said, holding up the T-shirt in one hand. “Until now?”
“
I’ve got some ideas.”
Amanda turned back into the closet. More clothes, shoes, and miscellaneous girl stuff were neatly arrayed along each side of the closet. She walked all the way to the end of the dormer and looked out into the front yard.
“
He used to like to work on the yard. I’d work in the garden over there,” she said, pointing to her left where a row of boxwood shrubs angled along the property line. “But sometimes I’d be in my room here, and I would just watch him from right here. It was just nice, you know? Safe. I could keep an eye on him. And he would look up and wave without even knowing I was in here. I mean, he just knew. I never told him.”
She felt Jake’s hands on her shoulders and leaned back into him, closing her eyes.
“
He’s got a nice house.”
“
Our
house,” she corrected. “He always called it
our
house.”
“
Sorry. It’s just so perfect, you know, for you and him.”
“
That’s all there was.”
“
He sounds like he was really dedicated to you.” Amanda didn’t respond. She simply closed her eyes, pulled away, and then slid past him, walking out of the closet.
She walked across the landing and into the master bedroom. To the right was her father’s dark walnut double bed. She immediately recognized everything. The matching bureau and chest of drawers were on the two opposite walls. The third dormer separated the bureau from a small television stand with a fifteen-inch TV. Sunlight splashed in a long rectangular shape across the bed. She smiled at the sight of the green and maroon bedspread she had picked out for him many years ago. She walked to the left, where the bathroom and wash area was located.
Everything looked as if he would be walking in the door any second, saying, “Amanda, let’s go track some wild animals.”
But that wasn’t going to happen, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about anything right now. She leaned against the sink area that separated the walk-in closet from the master bath and shower. Looking in the mirror, she saw her face reflect the confusion, which she felt. What had happened to her?
The powerful scent of her father surrounded her and raised the hair on the back of her neck. She turned quickly, expecting him to be there. Emotions were rushing through her, tumbling over one another like a theater crowd escaping a blaze. She gasped, then caught her breath, placing her hand over her heart.
It took her a second to realize that the bathroom smelled of the shaving cream that he always used. That was his smell.
She realized that Jake had not followed her into the room. Wanting to scream, Amanda suppressed the urge and ran her hands through her hair, momentarily pausing as if to pull it all out. What was going on? Like some chemical reaction, the memories of her father and her came rushing back as if someone had just hit the rewind button on the DVD player, sometimes pausing, sometimes skipping along at speeds that made the images unrecognizable.
Suddenly she was sitting atop her father’s shoulders at the Faith Hill concert waving her arms in time with the music.
Skipping, blurred images . . .
Next she was hiking with him in the woods of Fort Jackson, South Carolina, believing they were following bear tracks along a sandy creek.
Skipping and blurring . . .
Now she was at the farm in Virginia, chasing the cattle that roamed freely throughout the hundred and twenty acres of Blue Ridge foothills.
Then summer camps in North Carolina.
Then trips to the Outer Banks.
The stories he would tell her at night.
Then—
“
Hey, babe?” Jake called from an adjacent room. Amanda was vaguely aware of Jake’s voice, having been lost in the maze of memories springing forth like a newly tapped geyser. “Think you should probably see this.”
Her face was slick with perspiration. She pushed herself away from the sink to move out of the captivating aroma of her father. Like some invisible potion, the lingering scent of her father had spellbound her, if only for a moment. She took one step and then another, unsteadily making her way to the guest bedroom.
“
Look at this,” Jake said without looking up at her.
Amanda saw that he was focused on stacks of paper neatly organized on the double bed in the center of the room and a small desk beneath the sole window, which provided a panoramic view of the backyard.
“
What is it?” Her voice was weak, shaky.
“
I don’t know—hey, you okay?”
Amanda began to falter, placed her hand on the bed for support, and then leaned into Jake, wrapping her arms around him. She felt Jake’s arms pull her toward him, almost lifting her up.
“
It’s okay, Amanda. It’s okay.”
She buried her face into his chest and then muttered, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”
“
Just say the word—”
“
No, I have to do this. Something’s happening and I’m just . . . just confused, that’s all.”
“
Okay, I’m with you.”
She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. She studied him for a moment, reappraising his handsome features. The square jaw, deep-set brown eyes and dark hair were all so perfect. He was perfect. She felt something stir inside of her chest, a fluttering of her heart perhaps. What was happening?
“
Have you ever felt like you don’t know who you are?”
She watched Jake consider her question. Of course not, she figured, he was Jake Devereaux, star athlete. Everyone wanted to be him, so it was only obvious that he knew exactly who he was and where he came from.
“
Sometimes, you know, I wonder how I’m so lucky to be blessed with the things I have. Athletic ability, decent grades in school, good family.” He paused. “You.”
“
Jake, I’m really struggling with something here.” She crossed her arms, not really considering his comment. “I feel like half of me has been hiding. I feel like, I don’t know, I’ve been ashamed of who I am, so I just cover it all up with this shallow bitch act.”
Jake dropped his eyes and looked at the floor. “I wouldn’t love you if I felt like I should be ashamed of you.” Jake’s words were reassuring to her. She felt his hands gently cup her face.
“
You’re way too good for me,” she muttered against his hand, kissing his palm with a scrunched-up lip. “I don’t deserve you.”
“
Hey, what kind of talk is that? We deserve each other.” His whispered words sounded sophomoric, he knew, but they somehow seemed appropriate.
“
No, Jake, I’m a shallow, manipulating bitch. You’re a good person. I mean, look at you,” she said stepping back. “You’re here with me, skipping school, so you can help me deal with my dead father’s belongings, or whatever it is we’re doing.”
“
You would have done the same for me.”
Amanda stared at him for a long time.
“
Maybe I would have been there, but not like this. You’re the only thing I can rely on right now, you know. That and my mom and Nina.”
Jake stuttered for a second. It was obvious he was uncomfortable, as if he wanted to say something. Finally he did.