Amnesia

Part Two: Chapter Six

Five days have gone by and no matter how hard I try to remember where the stupid mugs for coffee are or the sugar, I just can't seem to find them until I rummage through the whole kitchen. Alexander has been patient with me regardless of how many days have gone by and has been very respectfully distant. We haven't spoken about Daphne and the weeks I've been gone. We haven't even spoken about that night, almost three weeks ago. When I stare at the mugs that I have finally found after five minutes, Alexander walks through on his bluetooth, talking to one of his clients.
"No," he says gruffly. "You really think saying that you were delusional will help? You already said you weren't on anything when it happened."
I pull out the mug from the cabinet and feel his strong hand squeeze my shoulder. When I look at him, he gives me a thumbs up and a smile like I've conquered something great. I just smile back and pour him coffee in his thermal and have his lunch ready. Since I don't remember his usual lunches, he wrote down a list and their ingredients that I used to make them with so it can help me remember.
He's thoughtful and kind and he's very talkative and jokes a lot. He's nothing what I thought he was in my memories because he's better than them. I'm not sure if it's just because he's so handsome and I wasn't able to see his face until he had picked me up that night at Daphne's, but to me, he's like a Greek God and I'm a mortal, looking at him from afar.
"I'll have to talk to you on the way to the office," he says. "Yes, please bring whatever you can to help clear all this up."
He groans once the call ends and walks over to me with a smile.
"You're getting better at remembering the cabinets." He states, seeing that I've only had to open three cabinets this time to find it. "And you packed my lunch!"
"Well, it's thanks to your thorough instructions that I'm able to get them the way you like." I reply with a smile and he places his hand on my shoulder again and squeezes tenderly. I don't try to let it bother me that he does this small gesture because I think he knows that in my heart, I don't love him the same as I did before. So this is his way of trying to be respectful and still be my husband. I guess. He leans down and kisses the top of my head.
"I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight and talk about us," he says and caresses my cheek now. This gesture isn't so bad either, but my heart instantly aches the moment he touches me here. I imagine Daphne caressing my cheek with her soft fingers and hand. I wish I had gotten her information before leaving so quickly that night.
"I'd like that very much," I say and nod my head. "At the very least we can establish what to do with our relationship and where it's at now."
"Exactly." He nods firmly and smiles. "I'll make sure to get off at seven so I'll be back at eight."
I nod my head and he caresses my cheek one more time.
"I'll see you."
"Have a good day!" I follow him to the door and when he waves one more time to me, I shut the door behind him and almost sigh in relief. I can finally have the house to myself and not feel so guilty about it. Alexander was with me the first two days working in his office but still home, keeping an eye on me. I guess he wanted to make sure I wasn't going to go crazy if I couldn't find something on my own. He'd come out every so often, but even during that time, he'd only come out to eat or use the restroom while I explored parts of the house I was comfortable traveling into alone. When he did have the time, he'd help me remember certain things about the apartment and about us that still didn't sound like one of my memories. But I would just nod and listen.
Now, I plan to put into my memories every corner of the kitchen, bathroom, closet, and our bedroom. I lied when I told him I'd sleep in our room. The last five nights I've been laying in bed until I know he's gone to sleep and go into the guest room where I would sleep for a few hours. The nightmares of my attacker have come to me much harder and much stranger each time but I still can't put my finger on it as to why.
So, I begin to explore the kitchen once more. The pantry is probably a good start. It's large, with plenty of healthy foods. I stand there and scan each shelf, seeing how organized I apparently made it all look. Some of this food doesn't even seem to have been opened yet but will be expiring soon. I make a mental note to make sure and eat these foods before they go bad. For a moment, I hesitate making that mental note. What if I forget? What if I begin to have short term memory loss? Is that a thing with amnesia patients? Acute or otherwise? I quickly go to find a sticky note, panicking as I do.
But the more I panic, going through all of the drawers under the island, the more scared I become of my own mind keeping track of things and tears begin to fall.
"Why can't I find anything!" I shout at myself and curse at myself for being so useless. I shut all of the cabinets and find a whiteboard hanging by the fridge. An Expo marker sits on a small shelf and I take it, ready to write what I need to remember but I freeze. I don't even remember what it is I need to remember. I grip the marker in my hand and close my eyes.
"I'm in the kitchen for a reason." Breathe in. Breathe out. "I was going to memorize everything in the cabinets." Breathe in. Breathe out. "I started with the pantry and-." I don't even have to finish the thought now. I remember the almost expired food and jot down the things needing to be finished. I shake my head and put the marker away.
See? Under control, Melissa.
I run my fingers through my hair and then go to the fridge. Everything seems to be organized and clean in here too. The vegetables, fruit, meat, and even the eggs and juices seem to be all in order and obviously shown through the see-through drawers. I move on to the cabinets and begin to say aloud what is in each cabinet. I repeat each one aloud with the cabinet doors shut and even close my eyes, trying to remember each one by heart. I'm not sure how much time I've spent in the kitchen, but it's time to move on.
I go to the bathroom in the master room and stare at myself in the mirror. I look tired. More than that, I look sad and defeated. I didn't get the apology out to Daphne like I wanted to and even when she said she accepted my apology, I could tell she wasn't satisfied about my leaving so soon either. I open up the mirror to reveal our toothbrushes on the bottom shelf and scattered around are our face creams, eye creams, makeup remover, and medicine I didn't see there before. When I take it out of it's corner of the shelf, I read the label.
It has my name on it.
I don't remember needing any pills?
I read further and it says for depression and anxiety. It even says it's a refill recommended by a Dr. Kamila. I shake the bottle and that it's full. I read the bottle and find that there's supposed to be thirty pills inside. When I take it to the bedroom and place it all over the bed sheets, I count all thirty. Why would I have pills I never use? I reread my name on the label again and put the pills inside the capsule and away in the medicine cabinet. I don't see anything for Alexander so I shut the door and check underneath the sink. What I find under there isn't anything unusual. My hygiene items are under here, nail polish, shaving cream for the both of us, toilet paper, and extra toothpaste and other bathroom essentials.
Nothing else is in here that I don't already know but when I look at the medicine cabinet again, I can't shake off the feeling that before my amnesia, I wasn't happy with myself. I go to the bedroom and the first thing my eyes land on is a photo of Alexander and I on some island at some bar. I don't remember that trip at all or that picture for that matter. I don't remember any of the photos taken and hung in this apartment or in this room. I sit on the bed, holding our photo in my hand and sigh heavily. I wish I knew who I was before I got this amnesia.
I look through the drawers and through our walk in closet and find all of my clothes. Daphne was right about one thing. I really do wear expensive clothes and these shoes really are awesome. I look over at Alexander's clothes and touch his shirts and suit jackets. I run my fingers through his hung ties. I notice a bottle of cologne and take a whiff of it, hoping to jog some memories.
When I do smell the cologne, I am reminded of Christmas last year. We were here at home with the family. Mine this year. I had decided I wanted to change up his cologne because I was just getting tired of smelling the same thing for the last two years and found something I knew he liked. When he had opened it, he wasn't terribly excited about it but he was a damn good liar, making me feel better and still wore it to work.
I guess he's gotten used to it since then and I haven't noticed.
I even remember what he gave me. An emerald necklace. It was simple, with a silver chain and two small diamonds sitting on top of the square emerald. I loved it for the mere fact that he finally got me something that wasn't so audacious or large. It was me and I loved it. I place my hand on my neck where it should be and realize the man who attacked me must have taken it too. I place the cologne bottle back in its place and leave the closet.
Looking back at the bed, I just stare at it for a long time. I don't really like the bland, grey color against the nice blue walls around the room. It almost look like you're sleeping on a dark cloud. Maybe that's why I was so depressed.
I decide that in order to cheer me up from all this depressing and feeling of loneliness, I grab my cell phone that Alexander bought me and dialed Detective Oslo's number. It took five rings but he finally answered.
"Detective Oslo speaking."
"Hey, Detective, it's Melissa ... Melissa Vale?"
"Oh, hey!" He sounds like he's hurrying away from something because I could hear loud voices in the background. "How are you faring at home?"
"Fine," I say with zero confidence in myself. "I'm still trying to remember where the sugar is in the house." I joke and he chuckles to that. "I was actually calling to see if you could give me Daphne King's phone number. She had given it to you when we first met at the station."
I have a ball of nerves inside of my stomach that I can't seem to let go of.
"Yeah, yeah, Ms. King. I have it here." He rummages through some papers and curses himself for misplacing the number. "Ah, found it."
He gives me the number and before I hang up he asks, "are you still unable to remember who the man that attacked you looked like?"
"Yes," I say honestly. "I still get the nightmares of what happened and the same descriptions I gave you in my statement keep popping up but nothing else."
"Well, I'm not really supposed to tell you this." I hear a door shut over the phone. "But we think he was a hired thug from some gang in East L.A."
"Are you sure?" I ask and my heart is thumping now. I wish Daphne was here to calm me down.
"We got an anonymous tip from someone whose family member had dealings with them in the past and said they all wear the same tattoos on their necks like you saw that night. The one with the dagger through the snake?"
"Yeah, that one." I confirm and he coughs.
"Yeah, my partner and I are going to visit the homeground of the gang tomorrow once we get approval from up above but it's getting hard." He confesses to me which makes me feel a little disappointed.
"You think it's because I'm already found and safe that it doesn't matter?" I ask.
"No, not at all." Detective Oslo sounds like he's covering his mouth or something now. "Your husband and father are trying to cover everything up since you ended up on the news, they don't want anymore publicity about the issue."
"But I want to find out who the man is." I insist and he pulls his hand away from the phone.
"And I do too." He replies. He sounds like he wanted to say something more but holds back. "So I'm trying to push the honcho's up there to approve our investigation."
"Well, thank you," I say.
"Of course, Mrs. Vale, now, if I find the suspects you were describing, are you willing to come back to the station and confirm or deny the suspects?" When Detective Oslo asks me this, my heart pounds even louder and my palms get sweaty just hearing this. I don't want to look honestly because I am scared if I do recognize him that my memories will flood my mind but it'll only be about that night over and over again.
"If not, I completely-."
"No, I will do it." I reply before I can change my mind. I know what the risks are and even Daphne agreed it wasn't a good idea to get my memories back by finding out who attacked me. But, I need to fill in the blank areas. So in order to do that, I have to sacrifice my sanity for it.
"If you're sure, I can let your husband know about it," he says and I shake my head quickly.
"No, I need to tell him." I state firmly. What better time than tonight at dinner with him?
"If you say so," he says. "I'll call you once we get the suspects lined up."
"Thank you, Detective Oslo." I reply and we both hang up the phone. I look at the phone number on the piece of paper I found and stare at Daphne's number. I pull up the dial icon and decide against calling her. I input the phone number in my contacts just in case and shred the paper, throwing it in the kitchen trash. I put the phone away and begin to get ready for dinner tonight with Alexander.