The stranger in the mirr.., p.15
The Stranger in the Mirror, page 15
“This place is wonderful,” I say.
“This is where I proposed to you.” He reaches across the table and puts his hand over mine. His blond hair looks golden in this light, and I notice again the curl that always seems to break away and brush his forehead.
“It makes me sad that I don’t remember.”
“I know. But one day you will. For now it’s enough that we’re together. You don’t know how happy that makes me.”
The waiter brings the bottle of pinot noir Julian ordered and pours us each a glass. Julian wraps his fingers around his glass. “To us. And to all the years I hope are ahead.” He stops, and before raising the glass, he leans toward me slightly. “If you’ll stay.”
For a split second I think of Gabriel and all I’ve left behind, but then I push him from my mind. Lifting my glass, I say, “To tonight, Julian. Let’s drink to tonight.”
I see his eyes grow sad, but he lifts his glass to mine, and we each take a sip.
“I know it must feel to you like I’m rushing things. I’m sorry. It’s hard to keep my feelings under wraps. I want so much for things to go back to the way they were that I forget how tough it is for you as well.” He shakes his head and takes another sip of wine. “I’ll try to be better. Take it slowly and give you all the time you need.”
He’s been so extraordinarily patient with me that it makes me feel guilty. What is wrong with my brain, that I could screw up so many lives? As I look across the table, however, I sense something happening. I realize that I feel comfortable with Julian. I trust him, and more than that, I like being with him. Maybe these are feelings of familiarity I’m experiencing, and soon more memories will follow.
“It’s all right, Julian,” I say. “You don’t have to apologize—I understand. You’ve been so patient, and you’ve given me all the space and time I need.”
When the waiter brings our dinner, I see four musicians with their instruments seat themselves behind the dance floor. “Look, live music,” I say, pointing to the stage. They begin to play, and suddenly I am swept back in time. My breathing grows rapid. The song. It means something. I close my eyes and try to see what it is, but like a puff of smoke it’s gone.
“What is it?” Julian’s voice brings me back.
“This song. I know it.” My pulse has begun to slow a bit.
“‘All of Me,’” Julian tells me. “Cassandra.” He looks at me with tenderness. “This is the song we danced to the night we got engaged.”
I am staggered. No matter how fleetingly, I’ve remembered something. I feel hope, and when I look across the table, Julian rises and extends his hand to me. “May I have this dance?”
I close my eyes as he wraps me in his arms, and we glide across the dance floor. I breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne. He holds me tightly to him, and through the thin material of my dress I feel the warmth of his hand on my back. I move my own hand from his shoulder to his neck, pulling him closer to me. He tilts his head so that his cheek is touching mine, and suddenly there is a tingling throughout my whole body. We move together as if we’ve done this a thousand times, and before our dance has ended, I feel like I’m finally home.
− 40 −
Cassandra
We are quiet on the drive home from the restaurant, as if to speak would break a spell. I feel dreamy and happy. This must be what it’s like to be a teenager on the brink of something big. I look over at Julian, my eyes moving from his chiseled profile to his strong hands on the steering wheel and the gold wedding band on his finger. I look away and at my own naked finger, wondering what kind of ring I wore.
When we arrive home, he comes around to my side of the car and opens my door. I look up at him as he takes my hand, and I can see the same excitement in his eyes as we enter the house and climb the stairs together. Words feel unnecessary. We both know that I will not pass our old bedroom and continue to the guest room tonight. Julian stops and opens the door to the large room and waits for me to enter first. It looks different than it did yesterday when I went through my old closet and felt like an intruder. Tonight it’s warm and welcoming, and I know I belong here.
I move nearer the bed and turn to Julian. I’m not sure what to do next, and he, seeming to sense my awkwardness, comes to me and takes me in his arms. I breathe him in again, my head on his shoulder. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying gently. Then he pulls away and carefully guides me onto the bed. He lies next to me, and as we face each other he runs his hand along my cheek, letting it come to rest on my lips. And then he kisses me, a long, sensuous kiss that makes me shudder with desire. I watch as Julian gets up and removes his clothes. His body is toned and fit. He comes back to the bed and slowly undresses me, caressing my body until I am completely naked. He straddles me, taking my hands in his, and, lifting them to his mouth, kisses the scars on my wrists. I feel like I am drowning in him. When he lowers himself and our bodies meet, I am on fire.
Julian is asleep next to me when I awake in the morning. I realize that I have slept more soundly than I can remember and without any bad dreams. I lean on my elbow and rest my head against my open hand, watching him. His hair is tousled, and he’s on his stomach, his face toward me. He’s so handsome, I think, and shiver with delight as I remember last night’s lovemaking. My shoulders start to feel cold, so I lie back and pull the covers up around me. The movement awakens Julian, and he moves over until our bodies are touching.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He kisses my neck as he whispers the words.
“Hi,” I say, feeling suddenly shy.
“I love you. Last night was incredible.”
I smile and snuggle closer to him, feeling like I could go back to sleep again. After a few minutes, Julian turns away and gets out of bed. I immediately think I’ve done something wrong, disappointed him somehow. I sit up, holding the sheet over my breasts, and watch as he puts on a robe and walks to the bureau. He opens the top drawer, removes a small red velvet box, and comes back to sit next to me on my side of the bed.
“I’ve waited to give this back to you,” he says, handing the box to me. “Now seems like the right time.”
I take it from him and close my eyes, holding it for a few seconds before opening it. I know it must be my engagement ring, and I try to visualize it, to bring the memory back before I look at it, but there is nothing. Sighing, I open my eyes and lift the lid, and there it sits, the ring I wondered about when I looked at the wedding band on Julian’s finger last night. I’m struck by its beauty—a magnificently faceted emerald flanked on either side by brilliant diamonds in the shape of sparkling triangles. I look from the ring to Julian, stunned by its opulence.
“It’s gorgeous,” I say in wonder. “This was mine?”
Julian nods. “Your engagement ring,” he says, taking it from the box and slipping it onto my finger. It fits perfectly, and I hold my hand out with fingers spread apart to admire it. Julian puts his hand under my chin, lifting my face to his, and kisses me on the lips. Then he puts his hand in the pocket of his robe and takes something out. “This is your wedding ring. You left them both on the dresser.” He opens his hand, and resting in his palm is a thin gold band. I remove the emerald ring and hold my hand out so that he can place the wedding ring on my finger. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
“Julian,” I say, “I’d like to move back into our bedroom.”
His smile goes from ear to ear, and he hugs me. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
We hear the sound of Valentina’s voice, and Julian stands up. “She’s up,” he says. “I’ll take care of her. You take your time. You have some robes in the armoire.” He points to the tall piece near the window as he leaves the bedroom.
I throw the covers back and get up. The room is quiet, and as I walk to the armoire my footsteps make no sound on the thick Oriental rug that covers most of the wood floor. Taking a blue silk robe from its hanger, I slip it on and tie the belt around my waist. I see the room with different eyes this morning. The ceilings are tall, just as in all the rooms in the house, and in one corner are two deep-cushioned chairs in off-white linen. I wonder if Julian and I used to sit in them and talk before we went to bed.
Enough, I think, and head to the guest room I’ve been occupying. There’s not very much to move, and I begin carrying to our shared bedroom the things I want to keep. I decide to leave some of the clothes I had in Philadelphia; they don’t seem like they are me any longer. I’ll ask Nancy if she knows anyone who could use them, and if not, I’ll give them to charity.
After I’ve emptied the closet and drawers, I take the stack of books from the night table and turn to leave. But then I remember the book Valentina made for me. I drop the books in my arms and open the drawer to retrieve it. But as I open the drawer wider, I frown. It’s empty. I scan the room. The book is nowhere to be seen. I know I put it there. Didn’t I? Frantically I begin to search the room, opening every drawer, running my hands along their insides. I even check the bathroom, flinging open the vanity doors and drawers. Nothing. I sit on the bed and try to think. Did I put it somewhere else? No. I’m sure the last place I put it was in that drawer.
But I can’t think about the book right now. I need to go downstairs for breakfast with Julian and Valentina.
Valentina is sitting at the table with a glass of orange juice in front of her, and Julian is at the stove, his back to me.
“Mommy! Daddy’s making waffles,” she says happily. “I want ice cream on top instead of syrup.”
Julian and I laugh. Ever since she outgrew her milk allergy, she asks for ice cream at every opportunity. “I don’t think so,” I say. “We can have ice cream later. Promise.”
“I know. I was kidding.” Valentina laughs now.
“Need some help over there?” I ask.
Julian looks over his shoulder at me. “No, no. You sit. I’m serving this morning.”
I sit next to Valentina, and before I can ask, Julian brings me a cup of coffee. “Thank you.” I take a sip of the strong brew—too strong for my taste, but it’s the way Julian likes it.
“Here we are,” Julian says, setting down two plates of waffles, one for Valentina and one for me. He gets his own dish and takes a seat. Valentina chatters away about a movie she and the babysitter watched last night, talking nonstop. After I had been back a few weeks, we let the nanny go. “So,” Julian says when Valentina takes a breath. “What’s new with school?”
Valentina’s face breaks into a wide grin, and her eyes are shining. “I made Mommy a book all by myself.” She tugs on my sleeve. “Can I show it to Daddy?”
Julian looks at me expectantly. My stomach muscles tense.
“Yes, of course,” I tell her. “I put it away in a special place so nothing happens to it. I’ll get it later, and we’ll show him, okay?”
“Okay.” Valentina appears unbothered by the delay. She starts to tell us about a new girl in her class, but I’m only half listening. What will I do if I can’t find the book?
− 41 −
Cassandra
Tonight we’re going to the Huntington Theatre to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Julian told me that we have season tickets and never used to miss a show. This will be the first night he’s attended since I left. The sitter arrived half an hour ago and is giving Valentina dinner. I glance at my watch and see that I still have time before I need to start getting dressed. Christmas is just five weeks away, and looking at the silver watch that Gigi gave me for Christmas last year fills me with a sudden longing to talk to her. I tap her number into the phone, and she answers on the first ring.
“Addison! I was just thinking about you.”
Hearing her call me by that name is jarring, now that I’ve begun to think of myself as Cassandra. I want to correct her, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings. “I miss you,” I say instead.
Her voice is warm. “Oh, sweetie, I miss you too. How are you? Everything okay?”
“More than okay, actually.” I tell her about my breakthrough in therapy. “My feelings for him are coming back. I think I was happy here.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I almost wonder if the connection has been broken. “Gigi?”
“I’m here. Listen, that’s wonderful.” She clears her throat. “Have you spoken to Gabriel lately?”
So that’s it, I think. I sigh. “I can’t take his calls anymore, Gigi. I’m married. And a mother. There’s no place for Gabriel in my life anymore.”
She’s quick to answer this time. “Of course, of course. I’m sorry. This is all just going to take some getting used to. But I’m thrilled that you’re starting to remember.”
This feels wrong all of a sudden. “Okay, well. I’ve got to go. We’re going to the theater tonight. Give my love to Ed. I’ll talk to you later.”
I end the call, realizing that I need to put some space between Gigi and me. This is a time for me to concentrate on remembering, a time to recapture everything I’ve lost. Holding on too tightly to the life I had in Philadelphia will only make that more difficult. Gigi will understand.
I go to the bathroom and turn on the shower to warm up. Back in the bedroom, I take off my watch and rings and put them on the nightstand in the crystal box, then undress. After my shower, I take a minute to sit at the dressing table. I’m still thinking about my conversation with Gigi and how let down I feel. I know that as I become more and more established in my own life, the old one will have to recede. But I didn’t expect to feel an awkwardness with Gigi, of all people. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe she was hoping I’d be unhappy here, that I’d return to Philadelphia and take up where I left off. I shake the thoughts from my mind and concentrate instead on getting ready for the evening ahead.
After I’ve finished with my makeup, I open my closet and try to decide what to wear. I look through the garments hanging there and come across a turquoise silk tunic with gold piping. As my hand runs over the fabric, an image floods my mind. I’m looking at my reflection in a mirror in some kind of house. I’m screaming, my face red, filled with rage. That’s right. Run. Get the hell out of here before I kill you! I let go of the hanger and back away from the closet, my breath coming in short gasps. Who was I yelling at? Was it my abusive ex-husband? I push the thought from my mind, trying to focus on the present. I still need to pick an outfit for tonight, so I slowly walk back to the closet. I hold my breath and scan everything, finally plucking a purple silk wrap from its hanger. I slip into it and choose a pair of nude heels.
As I turn around to leave, Julian comes into the room. “You look beautiful,” he says. “I love that dress on you.”
I’m tempted to ask him about the tunic, but I decide against it. I don’t want to take a bad trip down memory lane right now. I want the evening to be beautiful and filled with promise. I smile back at him. “Thank you.”
I walk over to the nightstand to get my jewelry and slip my rings on first. I reach for the watch, but then decide not to wear it. It’s not really dressy enough. Taking a last look in the mirror, I’m pleased with what I see. The last touch is perfume. I move the perfume bottles around on my dresser, looking for the Creed Aventus for Her that Julian brought home to me yesterday. It’s gone.
Turning to him, I ask, “By any chance did you see my new perfume? It was on the dresser this morning.”
His forehead wrinkles, and in two strides he’s next to me. “It’s not here?” He examines the bottles himself but doesn’t find it either. “Are you sure you left it here?”
“Absolutely,” I say.
“Not again,” he whispers.
“What are you talking about?”
His back is rigid. “Nothing. I’m sure it will turn up. Maybe you put it somewhere when you were moving your things. Shall we go see if it’s on the dresser in the guest room?”
I follow him down the hall, but when we go into the room, there’s nothing on it but the lamp and a book.
“We can look when we get home,” he says. But his expression is still worried.
I nod mutely and follow him from the bedroom, replaying the words in my head. Not again. What does he mean? Did I put the perfume somewhere and forget? The way I did with the book Valentina made? I already know I can’t trust my memory. Do I have to question my sanity now, too?
− 42 −
Cassandra
This morning when I went to put on the watch that Gigi gave me, it was gone. I’m hoping it’s just the stress of adjusting back to my old life in addition to the work I’m doing in therapy. I’ve decided I need to start taking my antianxiety pill in the morning. I’ve read that anxiety can make you absentminded, and even though I don’t think I’m anxious, maybe I’m more stressed than I realize. I hope it will help. I’m beginning to wonder if my brain is permanently damaged. I’m afraid to tell Julian; I don’t want him to look at me differently, when we are just beginning to rediscover each other. Valentina is off to school in the morning, and then I have my therapy session.
Until I regain my memories, I’m having therapy daily, which is quite exhausting. But it’s been a miracle of sorts. Many of the events of the year before I left have come back to me, Christmas especially. I remember the three of us choosing a live tree that we tied to the top of the car, and I remind myself to ask Julian if we will go out to get this year’s tree soon. I can remember celebrating Valentina’s birthday too, and other days and nights filled with activities both mundane and exciting. I can’t yet recall what happened the day I left, or what caused me to have amnesia. And I still haven’t been able to retrieve the dark days after Valentina’s birth, when I tried to take my life. I’ve decided that I need to know the details leading up to the suicide attempt. Maybe if Julian tells me, it will trigger the memory, and then I can deal with it and move on.
