The Price of Forgetting

Chapter 8

A knock on the door startled me, but I said, "come in" anyway.

The dark haired woman entered the room, carrying a tray of food.

"Hungry?" she asked, stopping at the foot of the bed.

I felt bad that I'd hurt her feelings before. Her eyes were a little red, but she was smiling and apparently asking permission to come closer.

I tried to smile, but I wasn't sure it came out right. Nodding, I tried to sit up again, forgetting how painful it was. Cringing, I groaned and gave up.

"Is it alright if I help?" she asked, keeping her distance.

Feeling a little embarrassed, I nodded again.

She set the tray down and came over to help me sit up. Her touch was gentle and she did a lot of the work, but it still hurt. I tried not to make noise, but I couldn't help it. Hearing me, she looked like she was in pain too.

She put extra pillows behind me so I could lean back and still be upright. Moving the chair closer to the bed, she picked up the tray again and sat beside me.

"I know soup isn't your favorite, but the doctor says you need to eat light for a little while. Chicken isn't so bad though." She set the tray on my lap. "And you love this bread."

I looked down at the food in my lap, trying to remember whether I liked it or not. I couldn't. My head was still pounding and I rubbed it, hoping it would stop soon.

"Here, take this." She picked up a little pill from the tray and put it in my hand. "It should help. It'll just make you sleepy, so don't wait too long to eat."

She was being so kind. I felt worse for making her cry before. With a small smile, I put the pill in my mouth before taking a drink from the cup on the tray.

Then, curious to see how I felt about the food, I lifted the spoon to my mouth and tried the soup. She was right. I didn't like it. It tasted alright, but I didn't like the mixture of liquid and solid in my mouth. It annoyed me and I wrinkled my nose.

The woman smiled at my reaction.

"You're right. I don't really like it," I said. Then not wanting to hurt her feelings again, I added, "it tastes good, but I don't like the food and liquid together."

"I know."

It was strange to have someone else know what you did and didn't like when you weren't sure yourself, but I didn't mind so much with her. She was comforting.

Since she said I liked the bread, I decided to try that next. After taking a bite, I smiled. "It's good."I guessed that she wanted to say she knew that too, but she just watched me, seeming pleased.

While I finished the bread, I thought. What I wanted to do was ask her about everything I'd heard, but I didn't want to upset her again. Startled as I was by everyone before, I was enjoying sitting with her this way. I didn't want to disrupt that. But I should probably make sure I knew who she was.

"Are you my mother?" I asked.

She looked so hopeful for a moment. "Do you remember?"

Glancing down and feeling guilty, I shook my head. "You're just kind...comforting." I shrugged. "And you know things about me."

Her eyes looked a little misty but she forced a smile. "Yes, Sweetheart, I'm your mama. And the man from before is your papa."

"And Matthew," I said, proud that I knew something.

She got that hopeful look again.

"He told me before," I explained before she could get too disappointed.

"Ah." She nodded.

"Who is he?" I asked. "Is he my brother?"

She seemed sad again. "No, he's not your brother. Your brother is Danny. He'll come see you soon."

But who was Matthew? He was the very first person I saw when I woke up. He was with me when my parents weren't.

"Matthew is... a very close friend," she said, clearly understanding my confusion.

I still wasn't sure that made sense, but I didn't want to think about it.

"You're very pretty," I said.

She smiled and then went to retrieve something from the dresser. "Look." She handed me a mirror.

Suddenly nervous, I took the mirror and held it up to my face. The image staring back at me was a little shocking. My hair was messy, there was a bandage on my forehead, and my face had bruises, cuts, and scrapes. But even so, I looked a lot like her. We had the same dark, curly hair and the same blue eyes, and even though her face was free of any injuries, it was very similar to mine.

"You're very pretty too," she said.

I smiled at her. I know she told me she was my mother, but seeing how similar we looked made me really believe it.

"I'm sorry I don't remember you," I said quietly. How could I forget my own mother?

"Oh Honey." She looked like she might cry again. "It's not your fault."

I nodded sadly. I knew that, but at the same time, I felt like I should be able to dig through my mind and find her. Setting the mirror down, I wiped away the tears that escaped from my eyes.She came to sit beside me and put her arm around my shoulders, giving me a gentle squeeze. It felt natural to let my head drop to her shoulder.

"Your mind just needs some time and rest." She smoothed my hair with her free hand. "Before long, you'll remember. You'll remember me and your papa and Danny and Matthew. And everyone else who loves you."

"Everyone else?" Of course I must know other people in the world, but that sounded like more than a few. "Are there a lot of them?"

She laughed a little and then sniffled. "Yes, a lot of people really love you."

I wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. It was a nice thought I guess, but right now, it seemed scary to think of so many people. But leaning on my mama's shoulder, as she played with my hair, was comforting, so I didn't panic. Actually I was starting to feel warm and sleepy.

"You have several aunts and uncles. Lots of cousins and a grandmother." My eyes drooped and closed at the soothing sound of her voice. Maybe the pill had something to do with it. "They'll be so glad to be able to come see you."

I wanted to tell her that I didn't want to see anyone else, but I was suddenly so tired. I only managed a small sound that probably couldn't be mistaken for a word.

As I felt myself falling asleep, I thought she might help me lie down again, but she didn't. She didn't move other than to continue to comb her fingers through my hair in that way that felt so nice. She started humming softly as I faded in and out of consciousness, and I was glad. I liked being able to hear and feel her with me. It made me feel safe.

"Thank you, Mama," I tried, but I had no idea if the words came out of my mouth or if I only thought them. In the next second, I'd drifted off completely.