"Am I interrupting something?" Dr. Lawrence says as she walks in with another doctor.
"Nope," I say. Annika seems deep in thought after my proclamation. I really hope it wasn't too much for her. But I will profess my love for her every chance I get. She will always feel loved.
"You must be Annika. I'm Dr. Owens—"
I cut him off, "it's Ah-nnika" She doesn't mind too much when people do that, but I think it sounds prettier that way.
"My apologies. I'm a Neuropsychologist; we will need to meet once a week for the next four weeks. We will then go from there."
"What exactly do you do?" Annika beats me and asks. I may work at a hospital, but that doesn't mean I know absolutely everything that goes on within these walls. I have definitely never heard of a neuropsychologist before.
Dr. Lawrence cuts in, "where my job is to work with the physical parts of the injury. His job is to look at the psychological effects of the injury."
"I mean... I don't think I need a therapist. I'm a little overwhelmed, but not that much. I think once I get my memories back, then I should see you, Dr. Owens, to sort it all out."
"My professional advice is to meet with him a few times, at least. Your long-term memory is in tack, which is great. And I am positive that with time you will remember this gap in time, but he can help you with that."
"Okay..."
"The sooner you get back to your regular routine, the better, and there is no reason for you to stay another night. So, I'm going to release you." I've never been so excited to sleep in a guest room. Her being home is going to make the house feel like my home again. "No driving till I see you again, which will be in 4 weeks, we will assess if you can drive then." She writes a script. "This is for any headaches that you may feel. See the front to schedule your following appointments. You two have a good rest of your day."
"Thanks, doc." I turn my attention to Annika. "Ready to go?"
"Yes!" She grabs her bag and purse. She goes to the door and turns right. I can't help but laugh at her. "What?"
"It's this way," I say, pointing to the left.
"Oh..." we walk over to reception. Lucy is working behind the desk. I wonder if seeing familiar faces will trigger anything. Or familiar places. We will have to walk St. George Street. She loves walking around the heart of town.
"Hey, Lucy. We need to make some appointments."
"Sweetie, how are you doing?" She asks eagerly.
"I know you, don't I?"
"Annika, this is Lucy. She is one of our neighbors." She stares at her... nothing. I shouldn't get my hopes up. If her family didn't, if I didn't, Lucy certainly wouldn't trigger anything.
"It's nice to meet you, Lucy." She nervously shakes her hand. We make appointments for the next four Mondays with Dr. Owens and the fourth Monday with Dr. Lawrence as well. "Nice car." She says as we get to my red Ford Mustang convertible. It's a classic model from the '60s.
"My grandpa left it to me when he died a few years ago."
"Has anyone else died?"
"No one in your family. I only have my dad left." It's not hard for me to talk about it anymore... well, about my grandparents, that is. They all died years ago as much as it sucks its part of life, and it happens to everyone. My mom's death still stings.
"I'm really sorry. I'd like to go to your mom's grave."
"She's not buried anywhere. My dad has her ashes. They had decided a long time ago that whoever died first, they would be cremated, and then they would be buried with the other." We had decided to do the same thing as well. I choose not to tell her that, though. I don't like thinking about one of us outliving the other.
"That's so romantic... in a slightly morbid way... but still romantic." My mom really loved Annika. I wish I could get her advice right now. She would know just the right thing to say. She always did. "Can I go home and change, or am I wearing this on our date?"
"It doesn't matter what you wear, only I will see you. And I see you in sweats with messy hair and no makeup all the time. So, no need to be self-conscious." She could wear a potato sack and shave her head, and I would still think she is beautiful. I would still want her.
"Where are we going?" She has always been so impatient. Impulsive even.
"To the pharmacy," I say, knowing full well what she means.
"No... Our date."
"Tisk. Tisk. So impatient." Her laughter is a sound I could hear on repeat nonstop. I missed that sound. We are quick inside the pharmacy—no need to waste sunlight here. I want to get her home before dark so she can walk around the property and take it all in. But first, our date.
"Okay, well, how far is it?"
"15 minutes." I am taking her to one of our favorite places for dinner. I'm sure she is sick of hospital food, and her not eating for almost a month must mean she is hungry.
"What did you do while I was asleep all that time?"
"I often would work in your hospital room, as I told you. I didn't like going home without you, so I was home long enough to sleep and shower, but that's it. Sometimes I slept in my office on the couch or even in your room on that awful chair. I visited my dad and your parents a lot. Jamie took me out like every other night. I really put a damper on his dating life, I think. He would show up at the hospital a lot to see you; then, we would go out and do something." I miss the way she would always take my hand as I would drive. We are almost always touching each other in some way... use to. "I would replay your voicemails so that I could hear your voice over and over again. In one, your yelling at me, and I would listen to it every day. Hearing you yell at me was better than not hearing you at all."
"Can I hear them," I hand her my phone, but she tries to hand it back, asking, "can you unlock it?"
"The password is your name." I look at her once I stop at a red light. "We don't keep secrets."
"Silas, really? I know I work from home and all, but you couldn't bring the garbage back up the driveway? I mean, if you say you are going to do something, then do it. I'm not that housewife that does everything around the house by myself. I shouldn't have to do this. Not right now... Ugh... I'm sorry. I'm just hormonal. I didn't mean to sound like such a bitch. I'll see you later. Love you."
"Sorry I yelled at you while I was PMS-ing." She was pregnant, not PMS-ing. I still haven't told her. I don't know how to. She moves onto the next one.
"Hey, baby. Maybe you could sneak out early... I uh... Well, I neeed you. I'm wearing that white set you like so much. I looove you." Hearing her talk with her voice all low and needy like that makes my cock twitch in my jeans.
"I came home the second I got that message." She is blushing so hard. Cheek burn a bright crimson.
"Hey! I'm at the beach. You should join me after work... and bring dinner... I'm craving pizza... and husband time... I love you, baby. So so so much. I hope to see you soon. I'm at our spot."
"I took an Uber to the beach so that we didn't take two cars home. I brought a pizza for dinner."
"What's an Uber?" Right, of course, she doesn't know what Uber is.
"It's like a cab, but it's through an app. We will want to get you the app so that you can get around while I'm at work. I'm taking most of next week off, but I do have some meetings I have to go to. I hope you're okay with that."
"Of course. I think that's a good idea. Maybe the more time I spend with you, the more likely my memories will come back."
I park the car in the closest spot. "We are here."
"The beach?"
"This is our spot. Our go-to beach. Not a lot of people come here. It's normally just us here."
Jamie had set up a spot for us. A blanket, two chairs, sparkling grape juice because of no alcohol for the post-coma girl here, and Olive Garden for dinner. There are tiki lights around the spot.
"You did this for me?" She says, sitting on the blanket.
"I had Jamie do it. So, we owe him a thank you later." I pour us each a glass of juice.
"Look at you, such a gentleman. So, what's mine, and what's yours?"
"You always get the chicken parm but substitute the spaghetti for fettuccine alfredo. And you get the chicken gnocchi soup. I get shrimp fettuccine alfredo and salad."
She makes a pleased humming sound as she opens her food. "I'm ready to hear more of our story. What was our actual first date like?"
~~~~~
Freshman Year
I'm pacing in front of her sorority house. I need to chill out. Why am I so nervous? I sniff the peonies bouquet I got for her. They are her favorite flowers, according to her mother. I had to tell her I was getting them for her, but I didn't tell her about our date. I just said that I was thinking of her and wanted to extend an olive branch.
"Si. What are you doing?" I hear her say behind me.
"Pacing," I say as I turn around. "You look beautiful Annika." She is in a white eyelet dress. She is wearing brown leather sandals and has red-polished toes.
"Annika, huh? No, Nikki?"
"No, Nikki." I hand her the flowers. She smiles at me, holding up one finger. She runs into the house and comes back empty-handed. She must have put them in a vase or something.
"Well then, Silas, where are we going?"
"To dinner over on St. George street. I hope you're hungry."
"Absolutely." She keeps giving me weird side looks as we walk down the cobblestone street to the restaurant.
"What?"
"You're different. You're nice to me."
"Well, we are on a date." I rub the back of my head as I say, "I have a confession to make... I have liked you... for a long, long time. And that's why I was acting like such a jerk. I'm sorry, it was immature of me. But I loved getting a reaction from you, so I kept up with it. I never thought that you would see me as anything other than Jamie's best friend."
"You've liked me this whole time?" I nod. "Wow. I didn't see that coming. I thought you hated me, and I never understood why."
"I far from hate you, Annika."
"I like being with you like this. Keep it up, and I may let you take me out again."
"It would be my first-second date. You'll have to teach me what to do." She walks backward in front of me. Giving me a full view of her. The dress has a full skirt but has a tight bodice. It is very flattering on her with how incomes in at her waist. Her breast are full and... stop thinking about her chest asshole...
"It will come naturally if it's right." She reaches her hand out to me. I take it and twirl her pulling her into me. "Don't tell our families, okay? I don't want them meddling. We don't need to say anything to them till there is something to say." She shakes her head back and forth as if she just tasted something terrible. Her nose scrunches up. "I don't mean that there will be something... what I'm trying to say is—" I nod, putting a finger over her plump lips.
"Here we are." We are seated and order our food. Dinner goes great. We are talking and laughing. We have so much in common. I already knew that, but having this verbal connection and confirmation with her is fantastic. Her long curly blonde hair glows in the dim lighting of the restaurant. She looks angelic.
"I had a lot of fun tonight, Silas."
"So, you'll go on that second date with me?" She nods, biting her lip. I would love to take that lip between my teeth.
"Yes. I would like that." She hugs me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I have one arm around her waist, and my other hand cradles the back of her head. I hold her tightly against me. I have wanted her this close to me for such a long time.
I let go, and she reaches up, leaving a chaste kiss on my cheek. "Night, Annika."
"Night Silas."