I wake up the next morning filled with a sense of purpose. Ryan kept the baby a secret from me because he thought that would be better. He and I had agreed not to tell the people at my company about my amnesia for the same reason. But he'd been wrong, and maybe we were wrong too. I don't want to hide any more. No more secrets.
I shower and put on a business-like black skirt of Donna's and a pink sweater I bought with Hannah and twist up my now mostly blonde hair, then put on a bit of makeup and stare at myself in the mirror. Do I look like a CEO? I suppose I must, since I am one.
I arrive at MMC at around eleven, and the receptionist looks up then gives a startled squeak. "Ms. Merrill! I didn't expect you. Did I?"
I smile at her. "No, don't worry. I'd like to meet with everyone, though. Is that possible?"
"Of course. A few people are out with clients, though. Should I call them back?"
I start to say not to bother, then reconsider. It might be good to have everyone together at once. "Do you know, is there a time today when everyone will be in?"
She turns to her computer and does some fast clicking and typing, then says, "I see everyone free in the Toronto office at two o'clock, and most people in Vancouver and Ottawa. Do you want them involved too? We could conference them in. Would that work for you?"
"Certainly. Could you make sure the Toronto ones know to be here? The ones who are out at the moment, I mean?"
She looks at me quizzically. "Once I add the appointment to the system, they'll know right away. It sends alerts to their phones."
"Right, of course." I make myself smile. "That's one of the things we need to discuss at the meeting." The fact that I know nothing about how this company works.
She's still confused, and understandably so, but she's a professional so she gives me a calm smile and says, "I'll add it right now and we'll see you at two."
"Thanks," I say, and head out wondering what I'll do with myself for three hours. I called this morning to make an appointment with Doctor Ferraro but she's booked solid today so I won't see her until Monday. I could go home but there's not really anything to do there either.
In the end, I walk the city. I've grown to love Toronto in my time here and yet there are so many areas I haven't seen. I cruise around, watching the people and buildings I pass and trying to get my head around everything I've learned, until I find myself outside a private school as the students pour out and head for lunch at the nearby fast food joints.
Three girls pass me. A tall blonde, a short red-head, and one with a vibrant purple streak in her long dark hair. "I'm fifteen, for God's sake," the purple-haired one says dramatically as they go by. "Why can't my mother see I'm grown up and get out of my way?"
Dizziness sweeps me and I have to sit on a bench before I collapse. Fifteen. Grace is only a year younger than these girls, who do in fact look grown up. Of course they're not, but they've got women's bodies now. Women's bodies, but still girls' minds. Exactly how Donna was when she conceived Grace.
Grace. It's even possible that one of the other two girls is Grace. Highly unlikely, of course, but it could be. My daughter might have just walked past me and I'd never know.
How did Donna live with that, all those years? How did Ryan live with it once he knew his wife had a child?
I sit on the bench watching until the students have dispersed, then pull out my phone. There has to be a way to make Bubbly Words let me in. There just has to. I need answers.
Once I type in the number code again, the game cheerfully greets Donna then sits there unresponsive. I've tried everything I can think of in the days since I made it this far but I can find no way to get further. Bubbly Words is blocking me. It's in my way just like the purple-haired girl's mother.
I glare at the phone as if it'll recognize my anger and cough up its secrets. It doesn't cough, of course, but as I study the letters I see G and R close together. Could it be...
I find and tap G-R-A-C-E, my fingers trembling.
"Touch screen and edges in pattern," the game says.
I'm a step further but still not close enough. What does it mean by edges? I give the top of the screen a tap, earning myself the disapproving beep I got before when it didn't like the numbers I entered. The right and left sides get the same result, then the program kicks me out. I go back in, tapping the Bruce Williams numbers and Grace's name, and it doesn't beep when I press the bottom edge. It does, though, when I touch the top again.
There must be a code. But what? I have no idea how many taps are involved, and it would take forever to try every combination.
But still, I've made progress. I walk a few blocks away so I can have lunch at a coffee shop that isn't packed to the eyeballs with teenagers, and begin a systematic test of the screen. It's incredibly slow, since after three errors the program kicks me out and I need to enter the numbers and Grace again, but I keep trying and eventually have the first four steps written on a napkin which I then transcribe into my phone. Down, right, down, right. I'll keep going later.
I will find the way to unlock Bubbly Words.
A chill sweeps me. What if I get in and there's nothing there? Or worse, a 'hello there, snoop' message?
I push this aside. First of all, it's my only hope. Second, the security's awfully tight for there to be nothing there. And third, since Ryan really doesn't seem to know anything about it there'd be no need for her to set up a mocking message in case he broke in.
No. There's something there. Something important. And I will find it.
*****
At two o'clock, I stand in the elegantly simple conference room in front of about fifteen people who all look more professional than I feel. Of course, the purple-haired girl on the street looked more professional than I feel at the moment. My employees are sitting calmly but I can see confusion and concern in their faces, and I have my doubts that I'll be saying anything to relieve those feelings.
The receptionist, whose name I still don't know, says, "Vancouver, are you there?"
"We are indeed. Hello, Donna."
"Hello and good morning," I say, glad I looked up the time difference to Vancouver so I'd know it's still morning there.
"Ottawa's here too," another man says. "But it's afternoon here, of course."
We all chuckle and I say, "Yes, of course."
Then I can't think of what to say next.
It seemed like such a good idea to tell them the truth. But now, as I look at the people I employ and imagine the others sitting in their distant offices, I wonder whether hearing 'your boss doesn't remember anything about the business that pays your salary' is a good thing to do to them. Should all truths be shared?
"Donna?"
I turn to the receptionist and make myself smile. "Yes. Let's do this. Okay, folks. I need something from you. Tell me, each site, where you think I've been the last few weeks. Vancouver, let's start with you."
The Toronto group is silent and looks confused. I can't see Vancouver, of course, but they pause for several seconds and I imagine them elbowing each other to make someone else be the spokesperson. Eventually a woman says, "In Ottawa, we presume."
"Doing what?"
"I would assume working with a few clients and supervising everything else."
"Okay, thanks." I scan the room. "Toronto?"
Toronto has a different story, I can tell, but they also don't have Vancouver's advantage of being able to confer without me seeing them. They glance at each other, then a short skinny man in a strangely shiny suit says, "We were informed that you were unavailable."
I look at him. "Informed by whom, and unavailable why?"
He doesn't look away but I can tell he's uncomfortable. Still, he stays strong and holds my gaze, and I'm proud of my other self for hiring such tough people. "Informed by Nadine in Ottawa, and unavailable because you were working intensively with a client there."
"I see. Ottawa? Nadine, are you there?"
A cool voice says, "I am."
"Someone else, not Nadine. What story were you given?"
Once a man tells me they thought I was in Toronto with a client, I say, "All right. Clearly some things have been kept from you. I apologize for that. But I think it's time to fix it."
"Donna, I'm not sure this is a good idea," Nadine says.
Toronto looks confused and I'm sure Vancouver's much the same. Ottawa's probably staring at Nadine wondering what she knows that they don't. Well, they'll find out in a second. "Nadine, I have faith in these people," I say, and realize that I really do. With what Ryan's told me abut how well they work and how well-respected the firm is, I'm sure they can handle this. "I am telling them the truth."
Nadine doesn't speak. Apparently what I say goes.
I clear my throat. "All right. I have recently undergone a..." Hell. Do they know Donna was depressed? Almost certainly not, if she hadn't even told her own brother about her condition. Maybe I don't want to give them every last detail. They don't need them. "A medical procedure. I won't give specifics since they don't matter. What does matter is this." I take a deep breath and say it. "I have lost my memories of the last fifteen years."
I'm watching the faces of my Toronto staff and I'm amazed that not a single one shows any reaction. A few people blink but that's it, and they might have had to blink anyhow. They're used to hearing strange news and processing it before responding and they're proving how well trained they are. How well Donna trained them.
"I see," the Vancouver woman says. "As I'm sure you can understand, we're all a little shocked."
"Yes, trust me, I felt the same way."
They all chuckle, and I do too. It is kind of funny, after all. Awful, but vaguely funny too.
A woman sitting in front of me says, "No memories at all?"
"One day I was in high school, the next I was--" Waking up in Jake's bed. I'll just keep that part to myself. "In Toronto and hopelessly confused."
"Wow," she says softly.
Nobody speaks until the short skinny man says, "I must say, I'm surprised you're sharing this with us. What do you expect us to do?"
"Yes," I say. "That's the question, isn't it? Here's the thing. I am proud of this company. I've read some of our files, seen the details of the many people we've helped, and while I can't remember it I know it could never have happened without all of you. I guess I'm telling you because it doesn't seem right to keep such a big secret to myself."
"And also because you'll almost certainly end up saying something that doesn't make sense at some point."
I smile at him. "Well, that too. But mostly the first one."
He smiles back, a stiff little smile but still the first I've had from him. He seems to be a leader, because the others relax when he smiles.
The man from Ottawa says, "Do you plan to keep MMC running?"
I hadn't been sure until right now, but being here in the company Donna built from nothing makes it impossible for me to tear it apart. "I do. I will obviously not be taking on any clients myself at this time, but I would very much like to see the company continue to grow."
"Now, it is possible that your memories will return, isn't it?"
It's the Vancouver woman. "Naturally I'm under medical care, and they do think there's hope. As time goes on, though, well... that hope does diminish. However, we're not giving up yet."
The skinny man clears his throat. "If this isn't too forward, I'd be happy to walk you through our systems and our most prominent clients' files. You're able to remember new material, right?"
"Most definitely," I say, touched. "And I appreciate the offer and I'm delighted to accept. I do seem to still have some of my procedural skills intact so it may be that I could work directly with clients again. In the meantime, though, I'll be leaving that up to all of you."
Nadine says, "Donna, the same offer applies here. I of course have your files for your personal clients. They've been handed off but it could be that seeing them will awaken your memories."
If learning about Grace didn't do it I can't imagine that some client files will, but it's still sweet so I say, "Thank you. I will call you privately to set up a time for that."
"Sounds good," she says, then there's a silence.
I feel I should be the one to break it. "I can imagine this is hard to hear. Trust me, it was hard to say. If anyone has any questions or concerns, please feel free to bring them up now or email them to me." I'm sure I have an email account, and no doubt someone here can show me how to get into it. I don't want to let Donna's business crumble. It would be better if she were here to run it, but I'll have to do.
Someone, not in Toronto, who hadn't spoken yet says, "I assume we're not sharing this information with clients?"
The Toronto staff share glances of 'well, duh' and I say, "I think not. Honesty is a great policy but there's honesty and then there's self-destruction. Let's stay on the right side of that line, shall we?"
Toronto shares smiles this time and she says, "Understood."
A thought occurs to me. "If anyone feels unable to stay with the company under these conditions, please let me or Nadine know and we'll arrange a termination settlement." An inappropriate giggle hits me. "Of course, Nadine, if you can't stay, then you'd better let--"
"I am going nowhere," her calm voice says. "I've been with you five years and I've really only just got you trained."
We all laugh. It's a perfect way to end the meeting and I run with it. "Glad to hear it. Well, everyone, thank you for your time. I will let you know if there's any change in my status, and in return I'd appreciate you not asking about it, all right? Believe me, I'll let you know."
They all agree and say goodbye, then the receptionist presses a few buttons and says, "We're offline."
I look around at the group. "Well."
They smile but nobody speaks.
"Are we going to be okay, do you think?" I know the boss shouldn't be asking them for reassurance but I can't help myself. "Will this work?"
The skinny man nods and several others do too without waiting for him. Relief floods me even before he says, "We're a tough bunch. And besides, I think your memories will come back. This business means too much to you for them not to."
Though it's unlikely to work that way, I'm still happy he said it. "Thank you. Now, I need introductions, and then I need to buy everyone a coffee to help you recover, and then I'd like you to teach me how my business works."
They all smile, and the skinny man says, "Great plan, boss."
**
Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you’re enjoying Kate's story. The next chapter will be uploaded on Friday! :) (Please note - I'm working really hard on another book and am behind on comments here - but I hugely appreciate them! :)
You can also check out my completed book "Life, Love, and a Polar Bear Tattoo" here on Wattpad, or download it for free from most retailers.
If you can't wait for another chapter of "Blank Slate Kate", you can pick up the book for just $3.99 right now - visit http://heatherwardell.com/book-blankslatekate.shtml for the buy links! :)