“Callum.” Lydia sniffled on the other end. “He has a little boy he never even knew about. The mother contacted him a few minutes ago and she wants Callum to come meet him. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it.”
“A child?” Kelly echoed as relief flooded her system. “Is that all, Lydia? Callum has a child?”
“Y-yes, but I don’t know what to do. I reacted badly to it, Kelly. Callum left and I really don’t know what to say. W-what would you do?”
“Oh, honey.” She sighed and dropped her head, shaking it slightly. “That’s...well, that’s better than a lot of bad news, isn’t it?”
“I suppose, but I still don’t know what to do. He has a child with another woman—how would you react?”
I would be grateful he’s still alive.
No, that was a terrible response. If Patrick had had a child with another woman, how she reacted would greatly depend on the circumstances.
“Was the child conceived before you and he got together?”
“I...yes. Yes.” Lydia cleared her throat and calmed down a little. “He’s four so he must’ve been conceived a little while before Callum and I met.”
“Well, that’s good. I mean, Callum didn’t cheat on you or anything, right?”
“Of course not. He’d never do that.”
“Good. So it just so happens Callum has a son he created before he met you, and now that little boy’s mother wants him to be in Callum’s life. That doesn’t sound too terrible, does it?”
“Not at all. Ugh, I’m stupid,” Lydia mumbled. “I feel like such an idiot. I should have handled it better. Kelly, I’m a moron.”
“No, you’re not, Honey. I totally get it.” She switched ears and glanced at the phone on her desk as the red light began blinking. “Oh, shoot. I have to take this call, Lydia. Can I call you back in a few minutes?”
“Yes, of course. Or maybe we can do lunch?”
“Anything for you, honey. I’ll call you back, okay?”
“Okay. Bye.”
Hanging up her cellphone quickly, Kelly sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the receiver.
“Reynolds’ Renovations. This is Kelly speaking. How may we help you?”
—————
D
evin
It had been the same thing every single day. By 7:00 AM he was awake, dressed, and ready for another visit with his psychiatrist, and those visits always frustrated him.
“How are you feeling today, Mr. Rose?”
That question really got on his nerves. How was he feeling? The same way he’d been feeling for nearly a year: lost, confused, angry, and completely hopeless.
Resting his elbows against his knees, he lifted his eyes to meet those of Dr. Alexander Thompson, an esteemed psychiatrist known for helping cure amnesia.
It was a big load of crap.
“I don’t know how I feel today, Doctor. Tired, I guess.”
“You didn’t sleep well last night?” He scribbled something on his notepad and glanced at him again with those judgmental eyes of his. “Should I prescribe you something for sleep?”
“No. I don’t like medicine. I hate what they’ve got me on already. It’s just...I keep having these dreams, but I can’t remember them when I wake up.”
“Nothing at all?”
“No. I still can’t remember anything and it bothers me. I feel like I’m hitting this wall...this big rock wall. If I could just hit it hard enough maybe I’d remember something, anything.”
It was infuriating not being able to remember anything. Not knowing who he was—it sucked. The fact someone else had to tell him his name was bad enough, but not to even recognize his own parents or siblings? It was tragic.
“Mr. Rose, you’ve been with us here at the institute for the past ten months and you’ve not shown much improvement in regards to regaining your memories.”
Devin rolled his eyes. Duh.
“Some people speculate you are faking it so you can get out of your prison sentence.”
“That’s a damn lie!” Devin shouted, jumping up from his seat and knocking it over. “I didn’t do anything wrong! I helped them. You can ask Laney yourself—I saved them that night. I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Calm down, Mr. Rose,” the doctor warned, eyeing him. “For you to be so passionate about your innocence, your behavior suggests otherwise.”
Biting his quivering bottom lip, Devin turned to pick up his chair and eased back into it, bowing his head. “I’m sorry. I...I don’t know why I get so angry. I just...I hate that people say I’m bad. I don’t
feel
bad, Doctor. I c-can’t remember who I was before the accident, but surely to God I’d feel something if I was as bad as people say I am. Right?”
Stroking his beard in thought, the doctor shrugged his shoulders and then began scribbling on his notepad again. “Not necessarily. I believe that amnesia can oftentimes make a person feel differently from what they used to feel. For instance, a woman who loved cats and had a few in her time may suddenly be petrified of them when she loses her memory. Or a man who was a world famous athlete may suddenly find himself incapable of even hitting a ball with a bat.
“These are things that I have studied before, Devin. So it’s highly possible that when you hit your head and lost your memory, you somehow forgot the beliefs you were raised with. The man you once were has been buried deep inside your mind, along with your memories.”
“Beliefs I was raised with? Why do you keep saying that? That’s all I’ve been hearing since I got here. What was I, Doctor? A hardcore Catholic? An atheist? Was I involved with the KKK or something?”
It sounded wrong. It all sounded wrong. Devin couldn’t imagine he had ever been involved with anything as ghastly as the KKK. Hell, there were several African American patients in the institute with him and not once had he felt disgusted with or threatened by them. They were just people—lost people just like him.
However, he did get the feeling he was cut from the same cloth when he was around his so-called ‘family’, and that really bothered him.
“I’ve been told you were quite the troublemaker. You used to get into fights with people all the time, Devin. Do you ever have violent urges around other patients here?”
“No, of course not. That’s ridiculous.”
“And what about when you see a pretty girl? Do you ever have...urges?”
“What kind of urges?” He frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing. I’m just asking you a question.”
“Well, my answer is no. I need help, Doctor. I’m trying to remember who I was and all anyone can seem to do is bring up the bad things about me. Is there nothing good you can tell me? What about the night I saved Laney and Benji, huh? Surely Laney had good things to say about me.”
Laney visited him once a month. He looked forward to those visits. She was kind and pretty. She didn’t treat him like a bad person.
She feels sorry for me.
His jawline tightened and pain struck his chest.
It sucked not knowing who he used to be.
Do I really want to know? That person was a monster.
“Mr. Rose? Are you listening to me?”
Blinking and glancing up at the doctor, he sighed. “No, I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I said that I’d like to give you another series of tests and make a decision afterwards. To be quite frank and sincerely honest, I am not comfortable with having you sit in here and being punished for a crime you cannot remember. It doesn’t seem fair, Mr. Rose.”
“But there’s nothing you can do about it. There isn’t a law for this, Doctor. If the old me was guilty then...well, maybe I should be punished. The law doesn’t care if I remember doing it or not, they only want justice.”
“I agree with that, but only to a certain extent, Mr. Rose. The young man I see here doesn’t seem to be capable of hurting a fly, let alone kidnapping a young woman—Miss McIntosh, and her boyfriend. Nor do I feel you’d be the type of person to hold them for ransom. Even if you could remember it, don’t you feel that perhaps Mia...”—he glanced at his notepad—“Amelia Carpenter was the mastermind behind the kidnapping of Miss McIntosh and Mr. Palmer?”
“How do you expect me to answer that, Doc? I can’t tell you whether she was behind it or not. Who is to say I wasn’t behind it? What if it was all my idea?” It was horrifying to even consider it, but Devin didn’t really know the truth.
What if the person he used to be was more than capable of such atrocities?
“When Laney visits me, the way she looks at me tells me all I need to know, Doc. She pities me. She feels bad for me, but at the same time, I can see it in her eyes. That’s a girl that doesn’t trust me and I must have done something to lose her trust. I hate...”—he sucked in a deep breath and sighed—“I hate how people look at me. I hate what I see in their eyes when I look at them. Whoever I was, he sucked. I don’t
want
to be that person, but I can’t change the fact that that’s who I used to be. All I can hope for is a better future.”
“As far as I’m concerned, the old me can stay gone. I just want this to be over so I can
start
over. I hate being here, Doc. I feel like you think I’m crazy, but I’m not. I don’t feel crazy; I just feel...lost.”
“I know, Devin.” The doctor nodded. “And that’s precisely why I’m going to run these tests today. You don’t need to be in here anymore. Your new life needs to start as soon as possible. I think it will benefit you.”
“Yeah?” Stretching his legs out and crossing his arms over his chest, Devin eyed him. “But what happens if you let me out of here and then I remember everything? What happens if the old Devin comes back?”
“To be completely honest with you, Devin; I don’t think he’s ever coming back. You’re a very unique case for me. Most patients who suffer from amnesia start regaining their memories within a few weeks, at least. I’d say in your case, my boy, you are quite lucky not to have gotten them back. This is a chance you need to take. I just need to know that you’re willing to make an effort to turn over a new leaf.”
“Turn over a new leaf?” He laughed. “Doc, I need a new tree altogether.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. This is a seed I’m giving you, Mr. Rose. You have to plant it, water it, and allow it to grow into something meaningful. Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
“Good.” Standing from his chair, Doctor Thompson extended a hand towards him. “You’ll be called down for your first test in a few hours. Be ready, Devin. Your new life is about to begin.”
“Thanks, Doc,” he said quietly, and then he shook his hand.
He should have been excited about the possibility of finally getting out of the institute and moving on with his life. But what kind of life was he returning to?
K
elly
“I can’t believe how I reacted, Kelly. I’m an awful wife. I wouldn’t blame Callum for divorcing me now.”
Watching as her friend buried her face into a tissue and blew her nose, Kelly sighed and sank down in the booth seat. For the past 15 minutes of her lunch break, she’d been listening to Lydia’s fears of losing her husband, and it was silly.
“It was just a small fight and a huge misunderstanding, Lydia. Callum adores you so much. He isn’t going to leave you over this.” She reached across the table and rubbed her arm as soothingly as possible, just as she often did for Justin when he got upset. “Please stop crying. I hate to see you cry.”
“I can’t h-help it.” Lydia hiccupped, peering over the tissues to gaze at her. “All I’ve been thinking about for months now is how badly I wish I could give him a child. And now he has one. Why did I get so angry about it?”
She chose her next question very carefully. Lydia didn’t
know
that she
knew
. Playing clueless was the smartest thing to do, wasn’t it?
“So you’re trying to have a baby and it hasn’t happened yet. There’s nothing wrong with that, Lydia. My mother and father tried many times before they were successful. I was their miracle baby, they said. My mom had four miscarriages before I came along.”
“Oh, Kelly. I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s terrible.”
And then she began to cry again.
“Lydia, please. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’ve made it worse.” She sighed and dropped her head. What could she say to make her friend feel better?
And then it struck her.
“Look on the bright side, huh? Maybe meeting Callum’s son and getting to know him will prepare you for when the day comes that you have your own baby, huh?” She smiled as brightly as she could, hoping to help ease her friend’s grief. “Think of it as an opportunity to learn. Besides, watching Callum with his son may give you an idea of what kind of father he will be to the child you have together.”
“Oh,
I wish
.” Lydia sighed. Peering out the window, she began nibbling at her bottom lip. It was easy to see she was struggling with something. “Kelly, I think I should be honest with you about...about me.”
“What do you mean, Lydia?”
Oh, man. This is it.
Her pulse quickened.
Just be supportive. Let her know you’re here for her no matter what.
“I’m—”
The tune of
Across The Universe
filled the air and Lydia grabbed her phone, frowning.
“It’s Laney. Oh, I’m sorry. I need to take this, Kelly. It might be about Callum. Maybe he’s,”—her voice squeaked—“trying to pass on a message about divorcing me. Excuse me.”
Bewildered, she watched her friend get up from the table and hurry towards the bathroom. She felt so bad for her, but what could she do? Lydia wasn’t going to listen to her, at least not now. She was overwhelmed with the news of her husband having a child with another woman—and she was devastated over the fact she
couldn’t
physically give him one herself.
It was a very sad situation.
Damn, she was finally going to tell me the truth.
Kelly sighed, poking at her salad with her fork.
Oh, well. Maybe another time.
Her phone began ringing a few minutes later and she nearly fell out of the booth. She answered it quickly when she realized it was Mrs. Harrington calling.