“I think she needs a little break,” Gigi says.
“Yes, of course.”
Ed clears his throat. “Why don’t you and I go take a walk,” he says to Julian, “and let them have a moment?”
After the door closes, I say to Gigi, “This is so strange, hearing him tell me about me. I don’t feel any sense of familiarity with the woman he’s describing.” I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t want to become that woman.”
Gigi gives me a stern look. “Now you listen to me. Even if you do remember, you are not going to morph into a stranger. You are you now. Your experiences of the last two years have changed you again. If you don’t like the woman you were, you don’t have to become her. And you don’t have to go back to Boston. You can stay here. Maybe find a new therapist here to help you remember.”
“No—I have a daughter, remember? I have to go back.” I hesitate a moment. “Besides, I think I remembered him when he hugged me.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“It was a pleasant memory,” I say.
“Well, that’s good. That bodes well, don’t you think?”
“I guess.”
“Regardless, just know that you can always come back here. And I want you to check in with me every day. I need to know that you’re safe.”
I nod. But I’m not worried about my physical safety. I’m uneasy about what I’m going to find if this cryptic tapestry called my mind is finally unraveled.
??32??
Julian
Julian loaded Cassandra’s suitcases into the trunk and then slid into the driver’s seat. After her emotional goodbye with Ed and Gigi, they were on their way, and he was relieved to finally be alone with her. He’d been anxious to get away from their prying eyes and begin to reestablish a relationship with Cassandra on his own terms.
“There are some cans of raspberry LaCroix in the cooler in the back, as well as KIND bars and bags of almonds.” He’d brought her favorite snacks and beverages with him—or at least, the things that used to be her favorites.
She spoke without turning to look at him. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
They were quiet as he drove, and he decided to let them sit in the silence with the hope that some of the awkwardness would dissipate. He pressed the stereo button, and the sound of classical music filled the car.
“I’ve got Sirius, so if there’s something else you’d like to listen to, feel free to change the channel.”
“This is fine,” she said, staring out the window.
He fought the urge to say more, to try and coax conversation from her. As the miles passed, he thought ahead to what would happen when they reached the house. He’d offer to put her in the guest room, of course. No matter how much he wanted her to feel immediately at ease and come back to their bedroom, he knew she needed time.
“How did we meet?” she asked, turning to look at him.
“At O’Hare airport, of all places—waiting for a flight to Boston. You’d gone to a training session in Chicago and were returning home. I was coming from visiting my father in Arizona. My connection was Chicago.” He paused. “Sadly, he’s gone now.”
“I’m sorry about your father. Is your mother alive?”
“No, she died a long time ago. I’m afraid you, me, and Valentina are the only family we have left in the world.” He could feel her eyes on him, as if she were pondering this new information.
“You must have felt very alone after I left.”
He was gratified to see that she was still empathetic. “You have no idea.”
She was quiet again, and when he glanced over, she was leaning back on the headrest with her eyes closed. Penny for your thoughts? he wanted to blurt out, but he knew that would only serve to make her withdraw more. They drove for another half hour without speaking. Just as he was questioning the wisdom of his decision to drive instead of fly, she turned to look at him. “You said I was in Chicago for training. What kind of job did I have when I met you?”
“You were working at a department store. An assistant buyer. You were training to get your boss’s job, but your real dream was to become a professional photographer.” Julian took his eyes from the road for a second and smiled. “But once we had Valentina, you wanted nothing more than to be a mother.” He paused. “And a wife,” he added.
“Tell me about Valentina.” She leaned her head back again.
“She’s a wonderful girl. She looks like you, Cassandra, just like you. She loves school. She’s seven now, in second grade this year, and an outstanding student. Reading is her favorite subject. That’s because of you. You would read to her every night, and you taught her to read when she was four.”