Remember This (2 page)

“We tried that and Mason ended up with the counselor’s phone number at the end of the session, remember? For once, that wasn’t Mason’s fault,” I say remembering the look on Mason’s face when Mr. Winbaugh winked at him.

“I say you divorce the douche and move on. I want to know about Eli,” Drey says leaning forward waiting for all the juicy details.

“Eli is adorable and sweet but there is nothing going on between us. I am still married and no matter how much I despise Mason, I wouldn’t do that to him.”

“Lucy, you are too good to him. Remember last month he invited all the guys over to watch basketball and they trashed your house? He did that on purpose just to annoy you.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about men,” I demand as our wine arrives. We order crab cakes and end up talking until the loud music disrupts the cozy restaurant vibe and the lighting dims even more. This is our queue to leave.

“Are we still doing lunch tomorrow?” Kara asks as she steps into the cab. She had way more to drink than us tonight which is unusual for her. We wouldn’t let her drive so we called her a cab.

“I’ll be there,” I say digging my keys out of my purse. “I’ll text Drey to make sure she is coming too. Good night,” I call as Kara closes her door and waves at me. Drey decided to stay at Berks and talk to the man at the bar. Typical behavior for her. I used to worry about her until I saw her take down a guy with her right hook and the pepper spray she keeps in her purse. It’s good to know she can hold her own.

It only takes me twenty minutes to get home. Traffic isn’t too bad at night. It’s dark and rainy as I pull into the garage, a sign of a spring evening.

I cringe when I see Mason’s BMW in the garage. I immediately pray he is asleep but I know that won’t be the case. It’s still too early for that. I sit in my car for a few more minutes with my head resting on the steering wheel trying to prolong my time alone.

I actually do this a lot lately; just sit in my car alone. I enjoy sitting by myself. It helps me think. All I can think about right now though is how I wish I could be invisible and sneak into the house unseen. And how I want dessert. I’ve delayed the inevitable long enough. I open the door into the living room and all the lights are off except the one over the stove.

“Mason,” I call but I hear nothing in response. I relax at the thought that I don’t have to deal with him. I set my things on the counter and pour myself a glass of wine. I look around in the cupboards for something sweet to eat but we don’t have anything in the house. I should have known better. I don’t buy sweets so I don’t eat them. I have no self control if food is within arm’s reach.

If I go to bed now, I can completely avoid Mason. I grab my glass of wine and head for my room but on my way, I notice that the spare bedroom door is open slightly. This is Mason’s room since our split and it’s never open. I force myself to walk past the open door and fight my urge to snoop around in his room. I don’t know what I expect to find but my curiosity is peaked.

“No,” I say out loud to myself hovering in the hallway outside his door. “It isn’t polite to snoop…but it’s just Mason,” I say changing my mind mid thought. I tiptoe back into the living room to make sure the coast is clear and then I walk back down the hallway and open his door.

I flip on the light and stare around the room. It is meticulously clean which I should have guessed. Mason thinks that everything has a place. I agree but I consider my closet floor a place. He has never approved of my unorganized ways.

There is nothing out of the ordinary in his room and when I open his drawers, I find nicely folded clothes. I pick up one of his under shirts from the top drawer and lift it to my face. It smells just like him. Like fabric softener and cologne. My mind is flooded of memories from when we actually liked each other. I throw the shirt back in the drawer like it is poison oak and shut it noisily. I have tried to block all of our past memories from my head. I tell myself if I can do that, then the divorce will be easier.

I know getting a divorce is what I want but it still hurts to think about. We used to be so close and he was my best friend. It is hard to officially let that all go so I have tried to distance myself from him and thoughts of him to help lessen the blow.

I’m annoyed and relieved that I don’t find anything in his room. I turn off the light and close the door enough so it is just how I found it. I go back to the kitchen to refill my now empty glass of wine. Being in his room and having those feelings come back to me was not what I needed tonight.

“We are two different people now,” I declare out loud to myself. “It happens. And now we have to move on. And I’m talking to myself, again,” I finish shaking my head.

I grab a new bottle of wine out of the cupboard above the fridge and I turn and set it on the counter. It is one of the bigger bottles and I almost drop it. I uncork it and am about to pour myself another glass when something catches my eye in the living room. I squint my eyes and see that there is something sparkly hanging from the fake plant we have by the couch. I kill every plant I own so I settled with the rubber ones. I walk around the bar and as I approach the plant I can see that the sparkles are attached to something red. I grab the mystery object and pick it up. I blanch as I look at the red bra covered in rhinestones.

“This isn’t my bra,” I mumble to myself. My blood starts to boil. Well hold on, I think to myself. Could this be Kara’s or Drey’s? We do change into our workout clothes here sometimes before we go to Zumba. I examine the bra and know for certain that Kara would never wear anything this flashy. She is definitely the type of person who wears nude colored undergarments and thinks that her matching baby pink set is sexy. Drey thinks that rhinestones are tacky and she doesn’t usually put too much thought into her bra choice either. She says that she never has one on long enough to spend money on and this definitely looks expensive. This only leaves one option.

I am so furious I can’t move. I stand by the plant holding the disgusting thing in my hands for a few minutes until I compose myself enough to move back to the kitchen. I put the bra on the bar and refill my glass of wine. I stand there and drink until every drop is gone and then I pour another.

I stand this way for what seems like hours but I think it really has only been 35 minutes. Halfway through my third glass, I hear the front door open. I jump and slop wine all down the front of my dress. Mason comes in and shakes the water from his hair. From the looks of his soaked jacket, I know that he has been outside for awhile. My face flushes and anger courses through my veins just looking at him. The normal hatred I feel for him is magnified by a hundred and I feel like I am about to explode.

“Hello, Mason,” I say icily.

Mason looks up once he hears the anger in my voice. I can see his eyes move from me to the bra on the counter and back to me. He pauses for a moment, our eyes locked and then he moves to take off his jacket.

“Hey,” he sighs and starts to walk towards his bedroom.

“Oh, so you’re going to ignore me? But we have so much to talk about,” I say in my sweetest voice. I see him hesitate for a minute and then he turns around and paces towards the bar until he is on the other side of it, but not too close. He’s smart to keep his distance.

“What do you want to talk about?” he says in a bland voice. I am shocked at his response.

“Just the weather, or your day, or maybe the fact that you brought a bimbo into our house and slept with her!” I scream the last words holding up the bra. Mason gives me a half smile but his eyes are menacing.

“It isn’t what it looks like. Why do you care anyways? We haven’t talked in months. It’s like we aren’t even married.”

“But we
are
married,” I hiss trying to control my temper and failing miserably. “And you brought a wench into
our
home.”

“You’re just jealous it wasn’t you,” he says looking smug, still smiling. That was all it took and the dam broke. I pick up the only thing in front of me, the bottle of Merlot. Adrenaline rocks through my body and with all the force I can manage, I cock the bottle behind me and swing as hard as I can, releasing it into the air. I have horrible aim but I aimed for his head. What I didn’t expect was that it would actually hit it’s target. It wasn’t that my aim improved over night. It was that Mason ducked to avoid the bottle hoping it would sail over him. It would have hit his torso if he hadn’t ducked…but he did.

The bottle connects with the side of Mason’s head and wine flies out in every direction. For a split second, we stand staring at each other, wine falling all around us, filling the air with it’s slightly floral aroma. The next moment, Mason crumples to the ground.

Joy is the new emotion making its way into my head. Maybe he’s dead, I think and I smile to myself. I am so angry at him that he should wish he is dead because if not, I am going to torture him. Oh, what I could do to him.

After my little fantasy subsides, reality sets in. “Shit, shit, shit!” I whisper to myself as I walk over and see him laying unconscious covered in maroon liquid. For a second, I am a little annoyed that I wasted all that wine, but then I get back to the problem at hand. I need to do something with him but I don’t know what. I’m not thinking clearly. I try to grab his arms and drag him out of the puddle but he doesn’t budge. The only thing I can think to do is call Scott and Kara. They will know what to do.

“Lucy, Kara is out for the night. I don’t know what you girls were up to but-“I cut Scott off before he can finish his joking comment. Since when does he answer her phone?

“Scott, I need your help,” I sputter through my numb lips. The event that just unfolded in front of my eyes was definitely sobering but it didn’t seem to take away all my drunken symptoms. “You need to get here now.”

“I’ll be right there,” he says picking up on the panic and urgency in my voice.

I hang up the phone and stare at my husband lying helplessly on the floor smelling of fermented grapes. Unexpectedly, guilt overwhelms me.
What were you thinking?
I reprimand myself.
He might be dead and you might be going to jail!
I should probably check to see if he is breathing.

I crouch down and put my fingers against his neck like they teach you to do in P.E. to check your heart rate. I can feel his blood pulse. I move my hand in front of his nose and I can feel his breath against my skin. A mix of disappointment and relief cloud my head.

I stand back and survey the mess I have created. There is wine all over the kitchen and into the living room. While I’m assessing the damage, I spy the bra and feel a pain I haven’t felt in awhile. I think I feel hurt. It’s a definite sign that our decade long relationship is over.

Scott comes running through the door with Kara right behind him. I guess Mason forgot to lock it when he came in.

“Lucy what happened?” Kara asks holding her hand over her mouth as she sees Mason sprawled out on the floor. Scott is lifting Mason under the arms and dragging him out the front door. Man, he’s quick to respond. I think I stared at Mason for at least a minute before I even touched him. Maybe the difference is that Scott actually cares if his friend lives or dies. Not that I want him to die. That sounds too harsh. Maybe I just want Karma to kick him in the ass.

I hold up the red bra and Kara immediately knows what happened. “Lucy, I am so sorry,” she says giving me a hug. She pulls away from me and sniffs the air. “Why is there wine all over everything?”

“The bottle was open when I threw it at him and it went everywhere. Such a waste,” I say smiling now. Kara tries to hold back her smile but fails.

“Well, I guess he had it coming. Come on, let’s go,” she says as she pulls my hand through the door. She stumbles a little on the front steps and I remember that she is still drunk.

“Kara, you can go home if you want. There is no way you could feel up to this right now.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not leaving your side. I’m fine,” she says and I am immediately grateful that I have her help through all of this. She doesn’t even care that this is my fault. She will support me through anything.

“He will be fine, Lucy. I’m not quite sure when he will wake up but it shouldn’t be too long,” Dr. Karl Carter says. He is one of our neighbors and he knows about our rocky relationship. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Mason already did wake up once in the car. I was in the backseat with him and he started mumbling. I screamed ‘stop!’ and Scott slammed on the breaks. Mason flew forward, hit his head on the seat in front of him, and then slumped over again. I guess I forgot to put on his seatbelt. “He was covered in wine. Do you have something to tell me? Did he really fall down the stairs?” he asks me suspiciously.

“Yup,” I say and I smile a big fake grin. We don’t even have stairs in our house, just the two out front and he knows this. He has been to our house many times.

“Lucy, I’m not getting in the middle of this but if you had anything to do with this incident, then it’s partly your responsibility to help him get through this.”

“Get him through what? He’ll wake up and be fine right?”

Dr. Carter hesitates for a moment like he is struggling with his words. “Mason woke up for a minute and he didn’t remember who I was. He didn’t know what year it is or who the President is. He has amnesia and I’m not sure how severe it is yet. My guess is that he will have his memory back in a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?!” I scream.

“Yes, and I expect that you will help him make a full recovery.” Oh, no. This is so bad.

“What do I have to do?”

“Well, there really isn’t a cure for this type of thing but we have found that certain past memories will trigger the brain making all the memories come back.”

“So, can I just show him some old pictures or something? I am too busy at work to be babysitting him.”

“Lucy, you got yourself into this mess and I’m sure whatever Mason did, he deserves this, but you have to help him. I would suggest doing things you used to do as a couple. Go to restaurants that you frequent, or go on a vacation that you guys enjoyed. I once had a woman who reenacted their wedding day and that brought back his memory completely. Do whatever you have to do.” Karl pats my shoulder and walks out of the waiting room doors.