Memory's Edge: Part One (16 page)

Chapter Thirty

Waltz

Standing in
the doorway of the reception hall, John realized what Clara said about Gretchen
had been an understatement. Gretchen didn’t look beautiful, she was gorgeous.
The pale blue satin of her bride’s maid dress clung to her soft curves in just
the right places and flowed loose exactly where it should have, accentuating
her graceful walk. Faux diamonds ran down one strap, curved along the neck
line, and disappeared over her other shoulder as they followed the strap to the
back of the dress. Every time she shifted, the light bounced off the jewels,
drawing John to her.

He had
crossed half the room in a trance before Gretchen saw him and smiled. The
pleasure in her eyes warmed John’s body. Waving him over to her drew the
attention of the circle of friends she had around her. John recognized two of
them from the party, but the rest were a mystery. They watched John eagerly as
he approached.

Stepping up
to Gretchen in his simple slacks and dress shirt, John felt rather
underdressed. She didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she looped her arm through
his and introduced him to everyone. John couldn’t remember their names two
seconds after Gretchen said them, but they were all quick to compliment him on
the food. John accepted their compliments politely, but it was hard to pay
attention to what they were saying. He was too focused on Gretchen and what
Clara had said.

Slowly the
conversation returned to whatever it had been before he’d walked up, with the
exception that Gretchen didn’t join back in. She leaned against John as she
held onto him, looking peaceful and happy.

“The
ceremony was beautiful,” she said. “I wish you could have been in there.”

“Me too,”
John said. He pulled her to him. “Then I could have stared at you the whole
time, instead of the hundreds of mini quiches I was baking. You look amazing.”

Blushing at
the attention he was giving her in front of her friends, Gretchen ducked her
head. John kissed the top of her head and hugged her even tighter. He couldn’t
help wondering if she thought at all during the ceremony about whether they
would ever get married. Did she wonder what her dress would look like, or what
kind of flowers they would choose, or where they would go on their honeymoon?

Thinking
about the same things had made it twice as hard for John to get through the
catering job, but made it better at the same time. Thinking about Gretchen
always helped him calm down when his fears about the future got to him. Being
surrounded by wedding preparations all day kept John slightly distracted.

“So how
about that dance?” John asked. “I promise not to freak out this time.”

Gretchen
laughed, but there was a hint of worry, too. Still, she took his hand and led
him over to the dance floor. They maneuvered through the crowd of single
reception-goers waiting to be asked to dance, and John paused when he saw the
dancers. Dancing at the restaurant had been an informal thing, people shuffling
back and forth to the music. He froze at the sight of couples fluidly moving
through a waltz. Suddenly, John realized why there were so many people watching
instead of dancing. They weren’t waiting for a partner, they were too
intimidated.

Finally
realizing John wasn’t moving anymore, Gretchen looked back at him. “What’s
wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t
think I can do that,” he said, pointing to the dancers.

“Oh, don’t
worry. We don’t have to waltz,” she said. “If I would have remembered how into
dancing Melanie’s family was before, I would have taught you. It’s really not
that hard.”

“Melanie
has a very interesting family,” John said, still staring at the dancers.

Gretchen
laughed and pulled him into the swirling people. They moved around them as
Gretchen position one of John’s hands on her back and the other in her hand.
Then for no apparent reason, all his nervousness disappeared. Feeling very
comfortable poised to dance his princess around the ballroom, John looked down
at Gretchen.

Except, he
didn’t see Gretchen.

For a brief
second when he blinked, another face flitted before his eyes. Waves of dark
hair surrounded an angelic, heart-shaped face. She stood just as Gretchen did,
ready to dance.

“Are you
ready to give this a try?” Gretchen asked, banishing the image.

John took a
deep breath to try to steady himself. Gretchen seemed to take it as nervousness
and squeezed his hand reassuringly. John didn’t know what had just happened,
but he focused all his energy on forgetting it. The image stayed, of course,
but he pushed it far enough to the back of his mind that he could look back at
Gretchen and smile.

“I’m
ready,” he said.

Taking the lead,
John stepped to the side…and then he kept going. In a perfect waltz. His feet
carried him without thought. He seemed to know what to do without even thinking
about it. Smiling with delight, Gretchen looked up at him. John returned her
smile, but inwardly he cringed.

“I guess
you do know how to do this,” she said with a laugh. “I suppose Dr. Sanchez was
right about the whole functional memory thing. You’re a wonderful dancer.”

Her next
question probably would have been whether he remembered ever dancing before if
she hadn’t been enjoying herself so much. Gretchen tried harder to get John to
remember things than he did. Rarely did she miss the chance to ask him if he
remembered doing, tasting, or seeing something before. John always answered her
questions, but he secretly wished she would stop asking him. Gretchen must have
been incredibly distracted not to have seen the opportunity. Diverging from the
regular steps, John twirled Gretchen, hoping to keep her mind occupied. He did
not want to answer any questions about dancing.

Functional
memory or not, John knew the face he had seen was the same one he saw the first
night they danced together. Maybe the steps were easily being accessed from the
same hidden portion of his brain that allowed him to remember how to walk and
speak, but the face of the woman he had once danced with didn’t want to stay
hidden anymore.

Part of
John wanted to know who she was, why she didn’t look for him, where she was
now, but a larger part of him never wanted to see her face again. The fact that
she obviously hadn’t been bothered enough by his disappearance to find him
tugged at the ball of anger and resentment John kept deep in his core. He had
already decided to give up on who he used to be. Whatever life he’d had before
meeting Gretchen, John had a new one with her. He wanted to keep it that way.

Flaring
Gretchen out, John watched her dress swirl around her ankles before pulling her
back in as the song ended. The music slowed, giving John a chance to keep
Gretchen pulled tightly against him. Immediately resting her head against his
chest, she sighed and swayed back and forth with him.

Clara’s
words were still pounding in John’s mind. Seeing the face had only served to
intensify the feeling that he needed to tell Gretchen how he truly felt about
her. He was desperate to tell her, but there was a wave of fear buffeting his
desire to speak. Actually, two waves of fear. One that told him would scare her
away from him. One that said he would lose her if he didn’t.

Halfway
through the song, John couldn’t stand it anymore. He decided to take the advice
of a sixteen-year-old girl who had just tried to seduce him.

Chapter Thirty-One

Reaction

Standing at
the front of the chapel earlier that day, it had been easy for Gretchen to
pretend she was in Melanie’s place. She did it at every wedding, but this one
was different. Even when she’d been dating Steve and was convinced he intended
to propose, Gretchen wondered if he was the right guy. She wanted him to be
right for her, but deep down she knew the way he treated her made him all
wrong.

Knowing
John was nearby, waiting to dance with her had Gretchen wishing she was the one
walking down the aisle. Having him hold her in his arms was the next best
thing. Gretchen listened to the smooth rhythm of the music as she let her
dreams play in her mind. She would have been happy to stay in that moment
forever, but John brought his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to
look at him.

“Gretchen,”
he said, “I love you.”

He said it
with such peace and hope. Gretchen, on the other hand, was shocked into
silence. She wasn’t sure whether or not she was still dancing. Feeling had
completely deserted her body. It felt as if the world had suddenly stopped,
giving her a chance to think about her reaction.

Did she
love John? She had spent so much time convincing herself—not to mention
Carl—she  didn’t, how she was only trying to help him, not seduce him,
that finally admitting she did seemed like a betrayal of some kind. But to who?
Deep down, Gretchen wanted to tell John she loved him. He had been pushing her
lately, but that wasn't a bad thing. She needed to be pushed. She’d been stuck
behind her fear for too long.

The night
Steve told Gretchen he loved her had seemed so magical in the moment. She
didn’t notice at the time how many glasses of wine he’d had with dinner, nor
did she see the alcohol induced glaze in his eyes. Gretchen heard the words she
wanted to hear from him so badly. It wasn’t until the next day when she told
him again how much she loved him and he couldn’t even remember the
conversation, and didn’t want to, that she realized her mistake.

Eventually,
Steve told Gretchen he loved her again, but it had been hard to trust he meant
it then. Staring at an anxious John, there were no signs of deceit, and no
drunkenness in his eyes. There was fear which Gretchen understood, but there
was honesty most of all. Letting herself love John in the face of the all too
real possibility of losing him wasn’t easy. For some reason, that seemed to
make it better, though, more real.

“Gretchen?
Please say something. You’re killing me,” John pleaded.

How long
had she been staring at him? The fear in his expression grew.

“John, I …”
He didn’t give her the chance to finish.

“I know you
weren’t expecting that, but…I needed to tell you.” He took a deep breath, but
kept going. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I just want to make sure you know
how I feel about you. You don’t even have to say anything if you don’t want
to.” He paused. “Actually, maybe it’s better if you don’t say anything yet.
Take some time to think about it.”

As if that
were the end of the conversation just because he said it should be, John pulled
her against his chest again. Gretchen pulled back, looking up at him.

“Wait a minute,
John,” she said. “I
want
to say something.”

The corner
of his mouth twitched, probably in fear, but the rest of him tried to look
optimistic. “You don’t need to, Gretchen. I sprang this on you. I understand if
you need to think about what I said.”

“I don’t
need to think about it. I already know how I feel about you,” she said. John’s
eyebrows rose hopefully, making her smile. “I love you too, John.”

His whole
body relaxed. Gretchen’s exploded with joy. She wanted John to love her, not
just need her, and now she knew he did. He knew she loved him, too. That was
even more surprising to Gretchen than his sudden confession. She hadn’t been
sure she would ever say that to anyone again. For the first time since leaving
Steve, Gretchen’s heart felt whole. The scars were still there, but the wounds
had finally closed.

“I didn’t
mean to take so long to respond,” Gretchen said, “but you did surprise me.
After the boyfriend conversation…I wasn’t prepared. I was surprised in a good
way, though.”

John
laughed, and said, “I kind of surprised myself, too.”

The song
changed, but not the pace. More couples joined them on the floor as the
non-waltzing music continued. Leaning against each other, they settled back
into the rhythm of the song. Everything felt right in John’s arms. The pair
moved slowly across the room, their feet barely leaving the floor, but Gretchen
felt light as they danced.

All through
the ceremony and dinner Gretchen had wondered what the future would hold for
her. Would she ever walk down the aisle as a bride instead of a bridesmaid?
Would John be the one waiting for her? She should have been thinking about her
friends, but she was lost in thoughts about what it would feel like to know she
was truly loved and not simply being used.

When John mentioned
catering the wedding, at first she hadn’t been sure about it. She’d told him
she would help, but secretly Gretchen hadn’t thought he should do it. It seemed
too soon. Gretchen was happy to see how wrong she had been. He handled the
pressure beautifully and came through on every promise made. It was Gretchen
who hadn’t been ready. Fear John would find someone better, as he became more
independent, was the real reason behind her lack of faith.

Gretchen
had no other reason to doubt him. John had done amazingly well so far. He was
determined to make his new life the best it could be. Gretchen had feared she
wouldn’t be included in it. Worry still hung in the back of my mind, but his
words sent much of it away. John loved her. She loved him. Gretchen couldn’t
shake the euphoria, and she didn’t want to.

Nestling
against John even more, Gretchen got the response she wanted. He hugged her
even tighter and kissed her forehead.

“You know,
I don’t think I ever told you how wonderful dinner was,” Gretchen said.

“Which
entrée did you have?” he asked.

“The
chicken Florentine. It was delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.”

“I hadn’t
either until I tested out the recipe,” he admitted. “I really liked it, though.
I’m glad Melanie chose it.”

Gretchen had
argued with her mom before about her cooking ability, but in all honesty, she
was useless in the kitchen. Her mom always said you only needed a recipe to be
able to cook something. Gretchen knew it wasn't that simple. Her mom spent
fifteen years trying to teach her how to sauté and poach things, but it never
sunk in. John had taught himself in a few months how to cook anything and
everything. He absolutely amazed her.

“Did you
like doing this, or was it too stressful?” she asked.

“Oh, it was
incredibly stressful,” John said, “but I loved it. I’m going to collapse when
we get home and drown myself in TV for the rest of the night, but I had a lot
of fun tonight.”

She loved
his enthusiasm. Exhaustion and the feeling she had done something good that day
was how Gretchen felt at the end of every school day. She understood his
sentiment well. The real test was whether he wanted to do it again.

“So, how
would you feel about catering a fiftieth anniversary party in two weeks?” she
asked.

“What?”
John asked.

Looking up
at him, Gretchen saw the excitement in his eyes. She pulled him closer and
kissed his lips before pulling back with a smile. “One of the wedding guests, a
friend of Eric’s parents, needs a caterer for their anniversary party, and
asked if you were available.”

His
excitement pulled their slow dance into something a little more bouncy than the
music called for, but she didn’t mind at all. “What did you tell them?” John
asked. He was trying very hard to keep from grinning. Gretchen giggled at his goofy
expression.

“I told
them you would call them tomorrow to discuss it. I have their phone number in
my purse.” Then Gretchen’s feet were pulled off the ground as John’s exuberant
hug lifted her up.

“I can’t
believe how this is working out. I never thought I would be able to cook for a
living. I started doing this just to find out something about myself. Who would
have thought one party for your parents would lead to two real catering jobs?”
John said. “Thank you, Gretchen.”

“For what?
This is all you, John,” she said.

“Thank you
for getting me here. I love you so much.” His pace slowed again, matching the
music once more.

The music
may have been slow, but her heart was racing. Gretchen couldn’t get over hearing
him tell her he loved her. She couldn’t even remember why she’d been worrying
so much as she rocked back and forth in his arms. Instead of fearing what the
future held, Gretchen was excited to find out.

“If you
keep getting jobs every couple of weeks you’re going to have to find someone
who can help you. I’ll help as much as I can, but you know how awful I am in
the kitchen,” she said. John didn’t argue that one. He just smiled.

“Maybe you
could get one or two of Mel’s nieces and nephews to help you out,” Gretchen
suggested.

Stiffening
slightly, John coughed awkwardly, his eyes darting around the room. “Uh, yeah,
I’ll think about that,” John mumbled.

Now what
was that all about?
Gretchen wondered.