The Fullness of Time - Book Two

by Cordelia50

The story continues that began in The Fullness of Time - Book One...

2. Chapter 2

Monday

Waking in her own bed - by herself - Marlena stretched and looked at the clock. 7:19. Definitely ahead of when she usually woke on her own. But the last few days had hardly been routine ones, so perhaps excitement primed her to start the day early.

Languidly, she reviewed the momentous events of yesterday. She had purposely missed the great part of John and Brady's reunion, but she had not excused herself while Emma related her lengthy story of their nine years together. Of course, Marlena already knew it; Emma told Roman and her when she came to them. But she wanted to be there when John heard it. She had hoped it might spur some memory from him. But it hadn't.

Of course Emma had to be told how Marlena stumbled upon John, and also about his own backstory. But she, in turn, had a great deal to tell him…

"You found me after Christmas but before New Year's Eve, 1992. I'm not sure of the exact date. At five years old, the finer points of the calendar still escaped me then. But I do know it was my mama I thought would come for me" - Emma looked at Marlena. "I had a few memories of her, although it scared me because they had begun to fade away. I barely remembered the other island we'd lived on together. I'd been taken to this one after two men - one I knew and one I didn't - apparently decided my fate on the previous island. The one I'd known Mom called Orpheus. She never told me the other one's name because she had been separated from me by then. But it was the other one who took me away to the new island, and he told me to call him Uncle Stefano. "

"Stefano? Stefano DiMera?" John's voice began rising.

Marlen broke in, "Yes. But please try not to get upset. Just listen."

"Where were you?" John asked Emma, not paying too much attention to Marlena's attempt to calm him.

"I was taken to a Mediterranean island, one of thousands. I didn't know where it was when we arrived, but learned later: somewhere between Italy and Greece. Uninhabited except for a few houses and utility buildings, probably constructed by Stefano's men. One small fishing boat sat on blocks on shore most of the time, but occasionally men there dragged the boat, called NOEMI, into the clear waters and brought in a modest catch.

Everything manmade was camouflaged so nothing could be seen from the air (or spy satellites or what have you), or, I guess, from any boats that might have passed by. If I remember correctly, Stefano flew us in a private plane to an airport, maybe on the mainland. From there he had a boat - not the little NOEMI - piloted by his own men, take us to the island where you found me. There were a couple other children there because their parents worked for Stefano as servants, etc. I had a room and a lady who took care of me. I didn't see Stefano DiMera much, but he was on the island a lot during that time before you arrived."

"So you weren't hurt or afraid?" John asked.

"I missed Mom. I wanted her so badly, but the woman just told me she couldn't come, and I'd have to get used to that."

Before John could ask more questions, Emma hurried on with her story, "One night, I was in bed asleep when the woman - her name was Signora Lucia - woke me, bundled me in the blanket and took me out of the house to a small cellar. She and I waited there. But I fell asleep again, so I don't know how long we stayed there.

"But I do remember when the cellar door was forced open from outside and a man I didn't know stood looking at us. He had a gun in his hand, and for a moment I was terrified, and I think I let out a shriek. He immediately tucked the pistol behind him and told me, in English and Italian, that it was okay and he wasn't going to hurt me. He commanded Signora Lucia to come out with me. She did, also looking frightened. I stood there in my nightgown, wrapped in my blanket. The man let Lucia run away, and then he got down on a knee and looked me in the eyes. 'What's your name, sweetheart?'

"I told him. He then pulled a picture of you, Mom, out of his shirt pocket and showed it to me. 'Do you know her?' he asked. I got all excited, 'That's Mama!' I told him in Italian. 'Where is she?'

" 'I'm going to take you to her,' he promised."

Emma looked at John. "And, of course, that was you."

"Later you told me that you had gotten information from a former ISA agent about Stefano's whereabouts and, specifically about rumors that he was holding a little girl who might be Marlena's daughter. The agent didn't want you to tell anyone because he couldn't completely corroborate the leads he'd been given, and he was afraid of leaks too. He told you he and a few other men, who had personal and professional reasons for wanting to be in on capturing Stefano DiMera, were going to raid the island. They deliberately didn't inform the Italian or Greek authorities or any US government agencies. Too many involved could cause information leaks that might allow Stefano to get away. Apparently he had gotten away many times before.

"At first, you told me later, the raid was successful. Stefano and all his people on the island were rounded up when your boat landed under cover of night. But while you were with me further inland, more of Stefano's men arrived. Either he sent out an SOS or there had been a leak about the raid anyway. They were able to overpower the former ISA man and his raiders, though, Stefano apparently decided to abandon the island, fearing others would be following to arrest him if this group didn't come back with him. And I never saw Stefano DiMera again."

"He never came back? He just forgot you were there?" John asked incredulously.

Marlena interjected again, "I don't think he forgot she was there. And he might have known you were there, although we never could prove it. But here's what happened after he fled that island: He surreptitiously returned to Salem in 1993. And he tried to kidnap me. He may have wanted to take me to another of his hideouts, and then, when the coast was clear, go back to the island and bring Emma to me. He apparently had developed an obsession for me, and wanted me for himself. But Roman foiled his kidnapping plan. A shootout erupted at the private airport where Stefano had taken me. Roman killed him. That was kept under wraps though because the ISA and other law enforcement agencies wanted to protect Roman and our family from any retaliation for the death."

John chewed on that. "So that was when and why DiMera's worldwide crime organization came under different management. Raffaelle took advantage of his death and became an even more ruthless godfather than Stefano had ever been. Even though Raffaelle probably rejoiced at the demise of his father, if he had known the identity of the officer who'd shot him, he would have sought retribution. You're right."

He returned his attention to Emma. "Go on," he urged her.

"You didn't let me see, but later I found out that several of the men who'd come with you had been killed and lay in the compound. You did what you could for one who hung onto life. But he died too within hours. You never heard anything from any of the others, whom you thought had been taken as prisoners onto Stefano's escaping boats. You later admitted they had probably been thrown overboard out at sea. And there were no boats left that you could take to get us to safety. The little fishing boat had no motor, and you wouldn't risk my life attempting an extended voyage. All communications equipment had either been taken or destroyed. For about a month, we were on the island alone. You had begun to build a bigger boat.

"But then some people returned who'd staffed the island for Stefano. Lucia didn't though. And although they didn't harm you or me, they said they couldn't allow us to leave. They said if they allowed that, their lives would be forfeit if and when Stefano returned. They were also deathly afraid of someone else, but they didn't utter his name at that point - that must have been Raffaelle, Dad."

John nodded agreement.

"They locked up all the weapons. They wouldn't allow you to build anything. At night they locked you up and guarded you so you couldn't escape while they were sleeping. But, during the daylight hours, they would let us be together as long as we were in sight of whoever was tasked with watching us."

Emma looked at her father with love. "Honestly, that was a good time for me in many ways. I got to know my father. At first, I was shy and didn't really know how to act around you. But I could see in your eyes and in everything you did that you loved me. That you had come here to rescue me, and that you felt even more frustrated than I that we were stuck there. You told me about my little brother, Brady. And you told me more about my mother and about so many others in Salem.

"You taught me so much too. You taught me about the natural world. We went for walks and you'd point out all the flora and fauna. You taught me how to fish - always from shore though. We had a bird list, Every time we saw a new one we'd add it, even though we didn't always know their names. Stefano's library didn't include ornithology books. His library did have a chess set which you almost destroyed the first time you went in there. But later you were glad you'd restrained yourself because you taught me how to play. You also saw to it that I learned how to read - both English and Italian. Every weekday you set hours for "schooling" so I could also learn to write. We drilled basic math. I remember doing the times tables so often I started dreaming about them! You told me about the larger world, you explained about how important it is to respect other human beings. You taught me about God. And you played with me. The two other kids came back, so I played with them too. You taught us all how to play a modified version of baseball, and sometimes other adults on the island would join in too. It was, as I said, a time I'll always cherish."

"As the years went on, Stefano never came back, although we didn't know why. Rumors cropped up among his people that he had died. Then, it became known that someone else had taken Stefano's place as 'godfather.' They started saying his name. They pronounced his name with cold dread: Raffaelle Estanza. But if Raffaelle knew about our island, he never set foot on it. And no one else came who wanted anything of us. The supply boats - which were always so carefully guarded that you could never seize control - began to come less often, and pretty soon the number of people besides us on the little island had been whittled to just three. The other children and their parents left.

"I became a teenager there, and you had to help me navigate the 'becoming a woman' thing because the other three with us were all men. I felt awkward and you did too about that talk. Also, since I was no longer a child, you shielded me more from those other men. You made sure they didn't ever get me alone. At the time, I didn't recognize the potential danger, and you didn't scare me by articulating exactly what could happen. But you were constantly on guard.

And, although you had stopped talking about Brady, I sensed the deep wound in you because of your separation from him. You burned with the need to get back to Salem and your son. You also desperately wanted to bring me to my mother."

Emma sighed. "It hurt me too - so much - that you hurt, Dad."

John smiled wistfully at her. But he didn't speak, perhaps too inundated by this hidden history.

"Finally, just after I turned fourteen, you made a huge, extremely risky move. You succeeded in commandeering the supply boat that arrived. A whole year had passed since the last boat, and we'd subsisted for months on caught fish, vegetables we grew, and other edibles of the island. It seemed as if Raffaelle had pretty much written us off for the last few years.

"Anyway, you planned this seizure in the minutest detail, and you succeeded. You left the crew and the three others behind on the island, making sure they couldn't contact anyone. You'd made certain in advance we'd have sufficient gasoline, food, and life jackets. We chugged away from the island we'd been stuck on for nine years. In those intervening years, you'd been able to find nautical charts and had determined where we were. You secretly showed me how to use the stars to plot courses too. Even though we couldn't be outside at night, sometimes they'd let me be in your room for a while and you'd teach me astronomy through the window. All this prepared us for the journey.

"We made it to an uninhabited stretch of the Italian coastline. We gathered our few belongings, and you set the boat on a course back out to sea and fixed it so it would automatically run that course until it ran out of fuel. You sought to keep any pursuers off our trail.

"You and I could both speak a reasonable amount of Italian. We'd practiced with the native speakers on the island, and our accents were quite good. But you didn't have any identification papers at all. I had none either, of course. We had only a few lire which you had taken from the supply boat crew. We walked and hitchhiked to the nearest village, which turned out to be Crotone. You got to a phone and called - collect - a European ISA contact number you remembered -"

"Who did I call?"

"Uh. You talked to someone named Frank. You didn't say his last name. He was a U.S. government foreign agent covering the station you'd called.

"Anyway, You knew this Frank. He promised to come immediately and meet us. But it would take time because he had to travel from Rome. You were nervous. You didn't want to stay in Crotone. You worried that Raffaelle would send men after us.

"You told Frank that you had learned some vital information and needed to get back to the States as quickly as possible. That surprised me. You hadn't mentioned anything like that to me. Once you ended the conversation with him, I quietly asked you about that. 'Later,' you said.

"Even though I always knew you looked for every opportunity to escape the island during the nine years we were there, it was later - after I was reunited with Mom - that I looked back at the last few weeks we spent there and realized you intensified your determination to leave. As I said, you'd always burned to escape, but something had happened that made it an all-or-nothing attempt for you."

John looked puzzled. "You still don't know what that was?"

"No," both Emma and Marlena said simultaneously.

Emma continued, "I guess Frank persuaded you to lay low in Crotone until he arrived. It would take him less than eight hours to drive the 600 kilometers."

"Frank turned out to be a blond-haired man about your age. By then my growth spurt put me at about 5' 6", and he wasn't much taller than I. Wiry, he ran over with frenetic energy.

"After eating a hurried meal, we started the trip to Naples, where Frank had already arranged for documents for you, Dad. Also, he said he'd make sure I could get into the U.S. when we landed there. All on the down low as you wanted, he assured you."

"In Naples, we both got passports with pictures they took of us right there. Then, after you thanked Frank profusely and told him you owed him bigtime, we boarded a military plane. We flew to Washington D.C. I slept on the plane, and I assume you did too. When we deplaned there, we had no trouble when we showed our passports and declared virtually nothing. A man you never introduced to me came up to you. You asked me to wait for you in some seats, and you and the man moved away, and you spoke to him for a while. He listened. You talked. Finally, the man nodded, shook your hand, and rushed away. You returned. You didn't explain about that meeting. You booked us on the next flight to Chicago. We only had to wait a couple hours, and in that time we ate again. My sense of time was really messed up, but apparently, when we arrived in Chicago, it was just after 5 a.m. local time.

"Ever since we'd left the island, you'd constantly been within eyesight, Dad. You were watching me, protecting me. For me, of course, our time in Italy, and then in D.C. and now in Chicago brought tons of new things to see and experience. My little world of the island had abruptly expanded incredibly. I felt deluged with new stimuli. I also thought, naively, that we were free. I didn't see how anyone could be after us here. So, while you made arrangements for a rental car (apparently you'd gotten some money from the ISA), I slipped away from you. I spied a ladies room and decided I really had to use it right away.

"And that's when it happened. As I was about to enter the bathroom, two men grabbed me. I think one of them chloroformed me, or maybe shoved a needle with something into my arm. I never could remember. The next thing I know I'm tied up and in what I later decided was a storage unit. At the time, I didn't know because I'd never seen one. They fed me, gave me water, and there was a bucket in the corner to do my business. Mostly I lay on a blanket on the floor. I couldn't tell how long I was there. Probably less than a day but it could have been longer. Then they came for me, and stuffed me in the trunk of a car and we drove. I had no idea where they were taking me, and my heart stuck in my throat with abject fear the entire ride. Finally, the car stopped. They roughly pulled me out of the trunk. It was dark. They untied me, and pointed me at a house across the street. 'Go,' they said. I said, 'What about my dad? Where is he?' One of them pointed up the street about 200 yards away to another auto that looked just like the one I'd been in. 'He's coming with us. You won't see him again. Now, go. That's your mother's house.' And he gave me a sharp shove toward it so I stumbled forward. I couldn't see you, Dad. I'm not sure if you were in that car or not, But I thought maybe I could get help at that house if the man was telling the truth, or maybe even if he wasn't."

John cleared his throat. "Oh, damn it, Emma. I'm so sorry -"

Emma looked sheepish. In a small voice she said, "I never should have left your side in the airport. I acted so stupidly, and it cost so much."

"I'm sure the kidnappers frightened you terribly, Emma. I'm so sorry you had to endure that."

"As I said, it was my fault. I should have waited for you, and not cockily gone off on my own in Chicago. You were right to be so cautious, and you paid the far greater price because I didn't pay attention to you. I've regretted that so many times."

Marlena added, "We did find out that you had made a deal with the men. You gave yourself up when they let her walk to the door. If you hadn't, the two with her would almost certainly have killed her." Marlena glanced at Emma, "Sorry, honey, I hate saying that."

"It's true, Mom. I'm just not sure why they wanted to recover us - and especially you, Dad - so badly. "

"A good question that has multiple answers, I'll bet. But the thing I want to focus on is that we had time together, Emma. It sounds as though, maybe there were some good times."

"There were! I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there. I felt so lost without Mom, and, when I first met you, as I said, it took a while for me to warm up to you and love you. But I knew you loved me so much. You wanted to help me in every way you could. But I also knew you felt you had to get back to Salem because of Brady. As I said, you really suffered because you had left him, and you couldn't return to him. And, you also wanted to get me back to Salem because you knew that Mom didn't remember me. You told me a lot about her, and explained why she'd left and that she couldn't remember me." Looking at her mother, Emma quickly said, "Not because you didn't want to. It just wasn't your choice."

"Oh, sweetie, that's so true. I'd never have left you if I'd had a choice." Marlena wanted to return to Brady. "John, Brady did have a hard time coming to terms with his father having left in order to be with another child. Even though rationally, he could comprehend and accept what happened, emotionally, he resented Emma when she came to us, but you weren't with her."

Emma agreed, "Brady is a wonderful brother, but, yes, over the years, that resentment has resurfaced a few times. He usually suppresses it, but if he gets into a particularly introspective mood - or if he has a little too much to drink - he may express his feelings. He's envious of the time I had with you. Even though Brady did love Roman as his stepfather, when I came back to Salem and everyone here realized you'd been alive those nine years, Brady felt cheated. And as Mom said, he knew, when presented with the facts, that it wasn't something that I or you, Dad, had intentionally inflicted on him. I told him repeatedly how unwaveringly you'd looked for every opportunity to escape the island. I told him he was upmost in your thoughts, and how guilty you felt that you were taking so long to return to him."

John shifted uneasily. "The thing is, though, these last eighteen years, I haven't done a blasted thing to get back. I never consciously gave him a thought. That's hard for me to take."

Marlena hastened to assuage his guilt. "You can't blame yourself for that. And, really, you did everything you could to return, John. Brady does know that. And I don't think he'll blame you for the last eighteen years either.

"He seemed ecstatic to see you today," she reminded him.

"Oh, I don't doubt it. But once the newness wears off, he may reevaluate everything and still harbor resentment. And if he does, I can't blame him. Because, regardless of the reasons, I wasn't there for him," John said gravely.

Then he fixed his eyes on Emma again. "But that is something I'll have to work out with him. Right now, I just want to feast my eyes on my beautiful daughter. Hearing your voice, listening to you recount your memories of our nine years together are so precious to me. I'll want to hear a lot more about that.

"And, honey, I'm so proud of you for following in your mother's footsteps and becoming a physician. Plus having a family. No man could wish for more for his daughter."

Emma laughed, a blush tinting her cheeks from the praise. "I didn't follow all the way, of course, I chose another specialty. But," she stole a quick look at Marlena and teased, "I think she's forgiven me for that."

Marlena pretended to disagree, "I don't know. You'd make an excellent psychiatrist." Then she laughed too. "I couldn't be prouder of her either, John. She's worked so diligently to attain her goals."

"Mom, you know as well as I do, I didn't adjust to living with all of you as easily as you and Roman hoped I would. I was secretive, didn't make friends very well at all, and felt like an alien here. Living on a little island with a few people differed radically from life in Salem, USA. I had an Italian accent, so I felt out of place at school. It was a huge adjustment. And, as I said, it was my fault in a way that Dad didn't make it back. Brady had a point..."

Marlena abruptly stopped reliving yesterday's reunion between Emma and John. Emma had adjusted over time. Even her accent had faded to near nonexistence. It was John who had paid the price of not being able to come home.

Marlena sighed. Enough. It was time to get up and see what this day had to offer.

In the bathroom, after her shower, she critically observed her image in the still slightly fogged mirror. If her hairdresser hadn't continued to add blondeness to her hair, she knew she would be just as gray as John. She'd had a few minor cosmetic procedures done to keep wrinkles to a minimum and to keep her skin smooth, not saggy. She kept in reasonable shape and hadn't succumbed to the noticeable adding of pounds that some did at her age. Yes, her face and body still betrayed her years to a degree, but she admitted she looked pretty damn good. When she took her time and applied her makeup to render her features most attractive, she still received "those looks" from men - her own age and younger. She took the time to do that today, as she reminded herself John had called her "beautiful" a few times.

She dressed professionally because she intended to stop in at University Hospital. As Marlena descended the stairs, she smelled coffee. John sat sipping a cup and gnawing on a pastry Emma had brought yesterday.

"Good morning," he greeted her.

"Good morning to you. How long have you been up?"

"About a half hour. Coffee's hot and fresh still," John added.

Pouring some, she asked him how he'd slept.

"Pretty good, thanks. The bed in your guest room is very comfortable. But everything that happened yesterday did keep me awake a while. Did you sleep well back in your own home again?"

"I did. I didn't realize how much I missed it until I stretched out last night. But I also lay awake thinking."

Small talk continued for a bit. Then John said, "You look even more beautiful today, Marlena."

So, Marlena thought, he still notices everything, doesn't he? Glad I took that extra time in front of the mirror. She thanked him for the compliment.

He added, "You also look like you're going to work."

"I just want to stop by and see Kayla Johnson. She's the hospital chief of staff now, and I have to let her know about my promise to go back to the V.A. hospital next week.

"Did I know Kayla before?"

"You did. She is one of Roman's sisters, and, when you were Roman, you were very close to all the Bradys. She is also married to Steve, aka Patch - because he lost an eye and wears a patch over one eye - Johnson. You were friends with him then too.

"Guess in due course, I'll be meeting all these people. Maybe we should just tell them all to come together on a given day and time, and I can meet them all at once," John said a little acidly.

Marlena smiled indulgently. "It's true that you will probably have to endure quite a number of reunions with people who'll be overjoyed to see you but who are strangers to you."

"Yeah. With the kids it's one thing, but these other folks I'm not so sure about."

Fumbling for her cell phone, Marlena said, "Oh, no. That reminds me, we didn't tell Emma to keep quiet about you. She isn't exactly a sphinx. I'll text her and warn her now not to tell Eric, Sami, or anyone else who doesn't know yet."

But barely had she pressed "send" when Emma texted back. "Oops. So sorry. Just spilled beans to Eric 2 mins ago. Won't tell Sami tho."

Marlena called her son without delay. Usually he celebrated daily Mass at this time of morning, but Mondays were his day off.

"Eric, hi."

"Mom, Emma just told me -"

"Yes, it's true. Emma thought you knew."

"Mom, that's a miracle!"

"It is," she agreed, beaming at John.

Marlena drove John over to The Church of the Transfiguration in her car. The rectory stood across the parking lot from the church itself, and they spied Eric pacing around outside waiting for them. When they pulled up, he rushed to the passenger side, barely letting John emerge before Eric hugged him tightly. John grinned at him, slapping him on the back.

When they went inside and sat in the rectory's living room, John repeated many of the things he'd already spoken of with Carrie, Brady, and Emma. What differed was what Brady told him. "Emma and you lived a completely different life. When you were in Salem, and Mom was gone, you were our dad, the only parent we knew because we were too young to properly remember her. You were a cop, and we lived in the suburbs. You saw Sami and me off to kindergarten, you took us to birthday parties at our friends'. You read to us at night. You took us to church on Sundays, and we saw Grandpa and Grandma Brady there. We'd go to Sunday dinner at their house quite regularly. The conversation was lively, especially when Uncle Bo and Aunt Hope were there too.

"You joked around with us a lot. Sami didn't pick the most appropriate outfits when she got dressed, so you'd josh her into changing into clothes that the other kids wouldn't jeer.

"Me, I was kind of slow getting up and starting the day. You'd have to come in a few times to prod me. You'd stick your head in the door when I was trying to catch a few more winks, and you'd give a shrill whistle and say loudly, 'Hey, kid, did the bed eat you?' Then you step up to the foot of the bed and tickle my feet through the blanket. I'd groan and giggle in spite of myself. 'Okay, okay, I'm getting up.' But when you disappeared, my incentive to get up waned, especially in Winter when the heater hadn't kicked in yet. So, five minutes later, you were back. One of your favorite methods to roust me was to crash the cymbals you found up in the attic. 'The circus train is leaving for your school in twenty minutes, and you need to be on it, buddy.' Whether you drove the car pool or some other parent did, you always called our school ride 'the circus train.' I asked you why, and you said, 'Because you kids are as entertaining as any circus act.' After the cymbals, I often ducked my head under the covers. You'd come to the bed, saying loudly, 'Huh. Now where did Eric go? He must be up already. I just see a lump under there. Can't have a lumpy bed all day.' Then you'd pick up 'the lump', blanket and all, and set me on the rug on the floor. 'Oh! There are you!' you'd pretend to realize the lump was me after all. 'Okay, then, get your clothes on and move it downstairs. You've got to eat something before you leave.' You'd open the chest of drawers and give me a little push to get me going. You were happy to play that game with me a couple times, but I knew the next time you looked in, I'd better be dressed and gathering my things. Usually, you ended up pulling a comb out of your pocket and running it through my hair before I left the house, because I often forgot to comb it myself."

John and Marlena both laughed at that recollection. "You still a reluctant riser?" John asked.

"I've got a good alarm clock, and I lay off the snooze button," Eric said genially. "I have to. The parishioners expect me to be on time."

Marlena said, "I think you inherited that reluctance to get up early from me, Eric. I'm not generally a morning person. And I've been told that a number of times." She looked at John. "You chided me a few times about that."

"Yeah? You've been up early these last few days," John grinned.

They talked for quite a while, but finally Marlena looked at her phone, "I'm sorry, but I need to go to the hospital and meet Kayla. I can go and come back for you, if you want to stay, John. Or, maybe Eric can bring you back?"

"I'd be happy to do that," Eric assured them both.

So John remained with Eric. Marlena and John had agreed that Marlena could tell Kayla about him. And if she ran into any other Brady family members or into dear friends she could also spread the word. Also, to prevent Sami from feeling left out, Marlena had called her before they left the townhouse.

Of course, Sami had been astounded and overjoyed. She'd wished she could get to Salem sooner, but it would still be late Wednesday before she could be here in person.

Kayla's office was as small and unexceptional as Marlena's now. Reallocations of budget monies to care, especially for the indigent, and to increased emphasis on research, had played a part in that. Also, the hospital had undergone remodeling, and a conscious decision had been made to reduce the size of the offices. Marlena wished though they weren't as cramped as they were. Also, the dark color scheme of the offices and much of the hospital itself did not appeal to her.

Marlena saw Kayla through the open door, but since Kayla had her attention trained on paperwork, Marlena knocked on the doorframe. Kayla smiled broadly. "Come in!"

The two gave each other a hug. "I'm surprised to see you, Marlena. Weren't you going to stay at the V.A. hospital until the end of this week?"

"Yes, I was. And I have to apologize because things have been snowballing, and I just haven't had time to keep people, especially you, in the loop."

"Okay, tell me. Sounds serious. Are you okay? Is everyone in the family?"

"No one's ill. But I experienced a huge shock last Wednesday. Kayla, I saw someone in the Palo Alto hospital whom I'd never expected to see again." Before Kayla could ask the obvious question, Marlena came out with it, "I saw John. John Black."

"Truly? You really did?" Kayla's eyes were huge and, like so many Marlena had broken this wonderful news to, she paled with the shock.

"Yes! And he came back with me to Salem yesterday. So far, Brady, Emma, and, this morning, Eric, have seen and visited with him."

"But. Where's he been? Why didn't he come back all these years?" Kayla's voice rose as she spoke.

Quickly Marlena filled in the bare bones of John's story so Kayla wouldn't bust a fuse being angry that her "brother" had disappeared so completely.

"That's a really unbelievable story. But then John lived an unbelievable story when he was here in Salem, so I shouldn't be surprised."

Kayla continued, "It must be very strange for him to meet all these people who were a part of his life he doesn't recall."

"Yes," Marlena said sadly. "I'd hoped that we would trigger memories for him, but so far it hasn't happened. Of course, he's elated to see Brady and Emma. He didn't know he had any children. He loves them just because they are his. He also showed genuine love to Carrie, whom we briefly saw in California, and to Eric. He'll do the same with Sami when he meets her, I'm sure. And, he will be happy to see you and Steve, and Abe, and so many others who were friends and family back then. Perhaps he will feel a sense of belonging when he sees how many people care about him and love him still in Salem."

"I certainly hope so. After what you've told me about his life, he deserves that.' She added pensively, "Thank God you and he crossed paths in Palo Alto, Marlena. Thank God you listened to your little voice and went in and checked to see who this vaguely familiar man was."

Marlena nodded solemnly. "Truth is, it gives me chills when I think I could easily have ignored that impulse to go into the Physical Therapy waiting room. If I had, I probably wouldn't have gotten a second chance to see him."

Kayla watched her friend and sister-in-law. "But how are you doing, Marlena? This must be hard for you - being with John, but not really having him fully be the man you remember and loved."

Casting her eyes down, Marlena felt a wave of discouragement wash over her at verbally hearing her own predicament. "Yes, the stubborn persistence of John's memory loss is a real blow to me. I long for him to feel with his whole heart and soul. I long for him to remember everything, including the tiniest details of our times together. Of course, I want that for him regarding all relationships he formed back then, but most of all, I yearn for him to relate to me the way he once did.

"I even persuaded him to let me hypnotize him, but the only Salem reference he made was, 'My pop sells fresh fish.' "

"He said that?"

"He did. But it didn't lead to anything further."

"But maybe it's a sign you should try again, Marlena."

"Oh, if he'll let me, I will, I assure you. But John is convinced that after 27 years - well, technically, it's 18 years - his memory block is so ensconced that nothing will knock it down."

Kayla considered that. "It is a long time. As you know better than I, amnesia doesn't normally last very long."

"True, but most amnesia (rare condition that it is, everywhere but Salem), isn't deliberately imposed by a madman master criminal. John downplays it, of course, but he was subjected to prolonged torture both before he came to Salem in 1985 - at Stefano's hands - and again in 2001-2002 - by a bastard son of Stefano's."

"According to what you said, John was taken captive again when Emma came to you, right?"

"Yes. Right."

"That was just days before 9/11," observed Kayla.

"Yes, but I think John had already been taken out of the U.S. by the time of the attacks, so the grounding of all flights and other transportation probably had no effect on his forced travel. And most likely he didn't know about 9/11 until he escaped later in 2002. Why? Do you think there's something significant there?"

"I have no idea. It just occurred to me that his kidnapping in 2001 took place very shortly before 9/11. It's probably just a coincidence."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Yesterday, when Emma told John what she knew, I was struck by her comment that John spoke to a man in Washington D.C. She also said John had been more determined than ever to escape the island when he finally succeeded. Perhaps he'd learned something from a loose-lipped employee of then-boss Raffaelle Estanza. Maybe he had vital information he turned over to the government before being captured again. Maybe it even had some connection with the upcoming 9/11 terrorism."

"Hmm. Could be." Kayla mused. "But wouldn't Shane have known if he did that?"

"Perhaps he does know, Kyla. People in the covert services have a lot of secrets they must keep."

They both thought about that for a minute.

Marlena sighed and returned to the subject of John and herself. "It is frustrating. John is John, but he's also someone I don't know. He's kind and thoughtful - as he was before. He's willing to embark on this adventure of reconnecting with people who knew him so long ago and still love him. And as I mentioned to others, I believe John will soon love Brady and Emma as much as they do him. Maybe Carrie, Sami, and Eric too. But when it comes to the two of us, he just isn't feeling what he used to."

"Give him time, honey. And give yourself some too."

"That's what he says. He reminds me it hasn't even been a week since I found him."

Kayla chuckled. "Good point."

"All right, yes. But. But if he still felt the love he had for me, I don't really see time as being significant."

"From what you've told me, the loss of all his memories from 1986 until 2002 was all encompassing. And there weren't any cracks. At least not until you hypnotized him and he did mention the fish market. That could be the hole in the dike. Maybe more will come spilling out with time if you hypnotize him repeatedly. And if he stays in Salem and is constantly in the environment he's forgotten."

"Perhaps so."

"I know you're worried that he might never remember. And that he might never feel for you what he did."

"That's right."

"Well, I think true love won't be denied. Steve and I have had a lot of difficult times, as you know. A few of those times, I really despaired that we would ever be together again. But here we are, Marlena. I love him so much, and I know he loves me just as much." Kayla glowed when she talked about her husband.

"Maybe Steve should be John's next visitor, Marlena. He might be able to knock a few memories loose. And, speaking of friends, have you told Abe yet?"

"Not yet. I'd like to tell him in person."

Kayla smiled at her friend. "It's such good news. Especially for Brady and Emma. And, I believe, it will be good news for you as well."

"Oh, it is already. I am so happy for the kids and for John. And you're right. I have to be patient. I'm working on it."

Once they had confirmed Marlena's intention to return to Palo Alto next week, they went their separate ways. Marlena checked into her own office, and determined there were no urgent messages waiting on her desk. Even in these days of texts and emails, some people still called the landline of her assistant and then pink little pieces of paper waited on Marlena's desk. She also listened to the few voice mails on her own landline. Again, no emergencies she had to deal with now.

Then she checked her iphone again. Eric's text read, "Taking John to Pier 29." He had only sent it about 25 minutes ago. It would have taken about twenty minutes for Eric to drive there. Okay, then, that's where she would go. She texted Eric back.

Marlena hadn't been at Pier 29 in a long time. Oh, once in a while, she and Roman had walked along it during their marriage. But she had always most closely associated it with John, and most specifically with the reunion they'd had there when she'd returned to Salem in 1991. The pier represented a kind of icon to her. A symbol of them. She was not sure how she was going to react to being there again with John under the present circumstances. She doubted the place would have any meaning for John. She wondered why Eric and John had decided to go there.

Finding a place to park anywhere in Salem during a busy workday could be a challenge, but someone pulled out of a space conveniently just in front of her, and she managed to parallel park with a minimum of fuss even though she generally avoided that maneuver whenever possible.

As she stood at the top of the old but still sturdy wooden pier staircase, her eyes immediately fell on John and Eric standing together. Both of them faced out toward the river.

In a few moments she came alongside them. "Hello you two," she greeted them cheerily.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hello, Marlena."

"What are you doing down here?"

"I asked Eric to show me this pier since you told me some really important moments took place here."

"That was a great idea," she said warmly, looking at them both.

Eric leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He said, "I should be going. I promised a few of the guys I'd meet them for lunch."

"Which 'guys' are those?"

"Those are some of my fellow priests and a couple deacons," Eric said gamely.

"I'm sorry you can't have lunch with us."

Eric nodded. "Me too." He looked at John and grinned. "Brady and Emma get to call you 'Dad,' right? Would you mind if I jumped on that bandwagon? For most of the time I knew you as a kid, that's what I always called you. When things played out so weirdly when my other dad returned, I sure was confused for a while. So, even now, I'm not really comfortable calling you by your name."

John gave Eric's arm a manly smack. "Listen. You were my son. I still want you to be my son. We may not be blood, but if you want to call me 'Dad', I'm thankful and happy." Then he deadpanned, "Should I call you 'Father', Father?"

Eric laughed. "No. Eric or 'kid' will do fine." He exchanged a hug with John, and told them both, "I hope to see you before Friday, but if things get hectic at the church, I know I'll be seeing you then for sure." He smiled broadly again and hurried away.

John laughed delightedly. "He's a fine young man. You and Roman did good with him."

Marlena took his arm and assured him, "You did 'good' with him first. You were his sole parent for five years. Thank you, again, John, for all that you did for him, Sami, and Carrie. I know I don't have to thank you. That you thought they were yours and were just doing what any father does for his own. But then you lost them when we all heard the DNA results. That was a devastating blow to you. I'm so sorry about how much you were hurt. Of course, as Eric mentioned, he, Sami, and Carrie were very confused. He and Sami had only known you as their father. If you had not disappeared on December 28, 1992; if you had stayed in Salem, I think all three of them would have wanted to maintain a good relationship with you. That might have hurt Roman, but perhaps he would have seen the benefits for the kids."

"Yup, that was undoubtedly a very tough situation for everyone. If I'd stayed, my guess is that you and I would have had a rough road, especially when I became a widower and you were married to Roman."

She nodded a little self-consciously. "You're not wrong, John."

Marlena decided to change the subject, at least partially. "Did Eric tell you more stories about when he was little?"

"He did! He remembers a lot. Did he tell you those stories too?"

A shadow fell across Marlena's face, and it matched her mood. "Not a lot, no. Eric has always been able to sense other people's emotional states. It's one of the things about him that makes him a good priest. He knew it made me sad that I'd missed those crucial years in his life. Of course, I was happy that you'd been there with the children, but I thought Sami and Eric were my only biological children, and it crushed me that I hadn't been part of those 'discovery' years of theirs. And, of course, when I finally met Emma, our daughter, I again had missed her childhood. She was a teenager already, and I didn't remember being with her her first few years."

John's face sobered too. "You never recovered memories from those 'missing years' of yours, did you?"

"No."

"So, we can't really expect me to remember either," he said bleakly.

"But you have remembered the early part of your own life, John. That's just amazing and wonderful. If you could do that, maybe you can recall the rest. Maybe you just need the right stimuli."

"Hmm. I thought coming here to this pier might be a useful stimulus. But I haven't gotten any sense of deja vu being here."

"Maybe it's not the right time of day."

"Come again?"

"Most of our rendezvous took place after dark, not in the brightness of day."

"Ah."

It was lunchtime. Last night they'd eaten Chinese with the kids. Now Marlena suggested a Mexican food truck that generally parked at this time of day only a block from this pier.

John seemed unsure, "If we go there, are we likely to meet people who know you and might have known me?

"No, I think we'd be pretty safe. If I want to see people I know, the Brady Pub is the main place. And a few others. But this truck, called Midwest Mex, is not a big meeting place for us.

As they ascended the stairs, Marlena realized John hadn't brought his cane when they drove to see Eric. "You are getting around well now without your stick," she said aloud.

"Yah. I'm really getting used to the brace, and even when I take that off at night, my leg feels better than before."

"That's great."

Marlena ordered a chicken taco and John a carne asada burrito. They found a bench nearby and soon munched away, careful to keep bits of food from dropping into their laps. Once they'd satisfied their hunger, they continued to sit there, looking out at the river and people watching.

At one point both their phones virtually simultaneously alerted them to incoming texts from Emma. She asked if they would like to come see Johnny and Teddy this afternoon. Or, she proposed, she could bring them to the park a couple blocks from Marlena's.

Marlena looked at John questioningly. "They are four-year-olds. Full of energy, excitement, demands, and questions."

He didn't hesitate. "I'd love to meet them."

He texted back for both of them.

Then they still continued to sit there. And for once, Marlena felt uncertain about what to say. Finally, she simply informed him, "I did tell Kayla about you, and by now, she has almost certainly told Steve and Kim, and other members of the Brady family."

"Okay, that's to be expected, right? What about Bo and Hope?"

"They pulled up stakes from Salem years ago with their son, Shawn Douglas. They're upper management in the Santa Fe Police Department, and will most likely retire there because they really enjoy living in New Mexico - which is odd because it's landlocked, and Bo used to have a boat. He joined the Merchant Marines for several years when he was young. Shawn-D is still a sailor at heart and in fact. He lives in Florida and ferries around tourists in the Keys and elsewhere. But, Kayla will probably let them all know too."

"And Shawn and Caroline Brady? The ones I thought were my parents for a while?"

"They've both passed on. Shawn in 2008, and Caroline just last year. In fact, she died only three months before Roman."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Well, at least her son didn't pass before she did..."

"Yes. Children should not die before their parents." Marlena said firmly, as though making that pronouncement would prevent parents from experiencing that profound sorrow.

John glanced at her, sympathy in his deep blue eyes. "No, they shouldn't. I'm sorry about your infant son, Marlena. I'm sure it's still a hole in your heart." He reached over and covered her hand with his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Changing the subject, she asked, "This must all be so crazy for you, John. I don't know if I would be able to deal with the avalanche of disclosures that I've asked you to."

Continuing to hold her hand, John stared out at the activity on the river. "I was going to talk to you about that. After we see Emma and our grandsons - and believe me, it amazes me that I could just utter that statement - I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to just be on my own for a while. I think I'll take the rental and go for a drive. Maybe get the lay of the land for myself, maybe get outside of Salem, going south instead of west as we did to see Eric this morning. Driving helps me clear my head."

"Of course, John. You need to do that. You've got to have time to assimilate everything. Time to try to fit it into your understanding of the world. Take all the time you need."

Marlena also wanted to ask something of him though. "When Kayla and I spoke, she said something that I wanted to run past you. She noted that you were captured again just days before 9/11. Do you actually have memories of 9/11? I mean nearly everyone alive then can tell you exactly where they were when they heard."

"Yeah, like it was for those of us alive on November 22, 1963, the day of President Kennedy's assassination."

"Exactly. Do you remember that? Or did your memory erasure include 9/11 and the days after it?"

"No," he shook his head. "I don't have any recollection of that day or its immediate aftermath." He paused. "My guess is I was heavily drugged and in some cell at that time.

"The first things I remember date from Spring 2002. There wasn't a calendar or clock readily available though, so I'm not sure exactly when I started being really conscious again. I had no access to outside news either.

"I learned about 9/11 when I started working again for Lou at the AIAF. Why do you ask? Did Kayla think it was important in some way?"

"Oh, she had no specific thought except that, as I said, you were captured again just before 9/11. But, I mean, I wonder..."

"What?"

"Do you think there's any chance that you were so important to the DiMera/Estanza crime organization because it had some peripheral connection with the 9/11 terrorist plot, and you had learned that before you escaped with Emma?"

"I..I.. don't know." John made a face. "DiMera's and then Estanza's syndicate had all kinds of criminal enterprises, but I don't believe Raffaelle supported the 9/11 terrorism. I don't think anyone ever suggested that.

"But, Emma's story has brought in another angle. It did sound as though I had learned some vital intelligence that I believed needed to be passed along to the American authorities."

"Yes, I've been thinking the same thing.' Marlena agreed.

"I have no idea what that was though. However, when Emma talked about an agent named Frank helping us get back to the States, I thought later last night she probably meant Frank Schubert who worked for the ISA. You said Roman Brady worked for the ISA, so I must have known Frank from 'being' Roman.' "

"Yes, that makes sense. "

He let out a long breath.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Keep this to yourself, but I remember when I came back to the AIAF, Lou put me on a task force to investigate the death of Frank Schubert. The official report claimed he died accidentally just about a week after 9/11, although his body wasn't found until April 2002. But our investigators found evidence he'd been murdered. With my memory loss, I didn't know who he was. Now, I wonder if he wasn't killed by order of Raffaelle because he helped me."

"Oh, John." Both Marlena and John looked horrified at the thought.

He thought some more. "After 9/11, law enforcement agencies did pay greater attention to the possible convergence between international crime and terrorism, particularly with regard to financing, and also just the fact that members of both would resort to similar acts of violence. I think that was one of the main reasons so much emphasis was placed and so many resources were expended on finding Raffaelle and his top lieutenants."

"Perhaps it's worth trying to find out more," Marlena said.

"Yes, it could be at that," John agreed.

"I was also wondering whether you would think about doing another hypnosis session. Kayla believes, as I do, that since you did remember that little bit about Shawn Brady's fish market, you might have some other breakthroughs - more relevant ones - if we tried again. And I think you know by now that I wouldn't ask you to explore any national security secrets you can't divulge to anyone. In fact, Kim Donovan, Roman, Bo, and Kayla's other sister, is a psychiatrist also, and if you wanted a second witness, we could ask her. Then Mr. Smith wouldn't need to go to Salem." She gave him a smile as she said that bit about David.

John smiled wryly too. "Mr. Smith goes to Washington a lot more than to Salem, that's for certain." He worked his jaw again, and said reluctantly, "I don't know. It could take a lot of sessions to seriously get anywhere. And, yeah, even though you directed me on what to think about last time, there's no guarantee I might not let something slip that I shouldn't."

"Would you please give it some more consideration?" she asked.

He shrugged and then nodded.

They strolled to Marlena's Mercedes and drove on by the townhouse to the tree-filled park up the street. Emma's Subaru hadn't arrived yet, as far as they could tell, but they got out.

A number of children already boisterously played on the swings and slides and other recreation equipment. Two girls played with a ball. One dug in the sandbox.

"This is quite a large park," John noticed. He stopped the ball as it rolled along near him after one of the girl's let it get by her. Giving it a little kick with his left foot, he sent it back to her, and waved at her when she squealed, "Thanks, Mister."

"Yes. It's one of the twins' favorite places," Marlena replied, smiling at the girl too. "Oh, there they are," she added, as the green Subaru slotted into a parking space.

They went over and greeted Emma who answered them happily but was too engaged in releasing her offspring from their car seats for any embraces. When one of the identical twins was put on the sidewalk, he saw his grandmother and his face lit up. "Gram," he pronounced indistinctly, throwing up his arms for a hug.

"Hi, honey," Marlena knelt down to his level and held and kissed him. Then she did the same with the other boy as soon as he stood by his brother's side. The two four-year-olds were a bit small for their age, and their honey colored hair cut a medium between Emma's darker locks and their dad's much lighter crew cut. Their blue eyes and their chiseled noses had been appropriated from the grandfather they had never seen until now, Marlena had always been convinced. Funny how characteristics sometimes skipped a generation.

They looked curiously at John now. Their mother came to stand by him. "Johnny," she gave his nose a brush. "Teddy," she smiled and tousled his hair. "Remember what we talked about in the car? This is my dad. We lost track of each other a long time ago, but now he's back. Say, 'Hi' to him. You can call him, 'Grandpa.' "

Shyness overtook Johnny more than Teddy who looked at John boldly and said, "HI!"

John also got down on his good knee and held out his hand to Teddy. "Hi, partner. Glad to meet you." Teddy let John gently shake his hand. Then John turned to Johnny. "Glad to meet you too, Johnny. You and I have the same name. My name's John too." Johnny looked at the big hand John held out to him and slowly he imitated his brother and offered his.

Johnny said, "You name s Johnny too?"

Emma and Marlena laughed softly, but John nodded. "That's a fact!"

Teddy didn't like being left out. "Is yoo name Teddy too?"

Emma broke in, "No, honey, you share the same name as Granddad Ted, remember?"

"Oh" he said, looking a little confused. The boys were about as slippery as eels. They wanted to go play, so their mother let them run ahead to the slides where they impatiently waited their turn to climb up the ladder and zip down.

John gave Emma a hug as he, she, and Marlena stood a little distance away watching the boys. "They're the best gift I've ever gotten - after you and Brady," he told her, his voice laden with emotion.

"They'll warm up to you," she assured him.

And sure enough, after a while one of them ran up to where John stood and tugged on his pant leg. Marlena could tell the twins apart, but she thought perhaps John couldn't yet so she gave the boy a big smile and said, "Hi, again, Teddy,"

John again kneeled down to meet the child face to face. Teddy said, "Will yoo push us on th swings?"

So off John went to where Johnny kept dibs on two empty swings. And soon the boys were laughing gleefully as they swung into the air.

Marlena smiled. "You and I are no longer the most desired swing pushers. They've found someone who can put more strength into it."

Emma gave her mom a sympathetic look. "They had Roman to push them last year, but they've missed the masculine granddad touch since he's been gone. And, of course, Tad comes to the park with them too sometimes."

Marlena didn't want to dwell on Roman. "You didn't bring Cody?"

"No, I have to keep him on a leash here. We take him to the dog park close to home."

"Oh, right, Yes, that's a people park too," Marlena pictured it as she spoke. In fact, that park, even larger than this one, was called "The Tom and Alice Horton Memorial Park."

Before they were through at the park, John played a little bit of several kinds of ball with the boys. He even obliged them as much as he could when they wanted him to play "monster" and chase them. Although he couldn't yet run around a lot, he was able to give them a few frights when they got too close to him. He'd pretend to be sleeping, or unaware of them, and they would cautiously sidle up. Then John would roar and swipe at them and they would scatter, laughing hysterically. Even some of the other kids joined in with that game.

Finally, Emma called her sons back to their car, and goodbyes were said all around. The twins, eyes all sparkly, made sure John knew they wanted to play with him again.

Emma hugged her parents. "It means so much to me to have you both!" she said, her eyes tearing up. That, of course, caused the same reaction in both Marlena and John.

Once the Subaru had signaled and joined the traffic, John turned to Marlena, his voice still husky with emotion, "You've given me these precious gifts. Thank you, with all my heart."

As he pulled her close, she snuggled her head against his shoulder. "Your return is just as precious a gift to all of us. You'll be able to teach these twins about baseball and take them to games. Tad isn't much of a baseball fan, so he won't mind your expertise.

"And you know, as you were playing with them, I thought again and again that you certainly must have played with Eric and Sami that way when they were four years old. I bet they loved "monster" too. And you did the same with Emma. Played with her, taught her sideline life lessons, encouraged her to develop her natural skills, and all. I missed seeing you do that with those three, but now, I'm so happy to see you with Johnny and Teddy."

"I bet I was a wilder monster with them. It's been a lot of years since any of them were so young."

"You'll be fine. As you said, pretty soon you should be able to run on your left leg, and," she lifted her face to him, "you are still in very good physical trim."

"You think so?" John held her a little closer. Then he angled her around in front of him and kissed her. Gentry, almost feather light at first. Then with more pressure and soon they engaged eagerly. But since they still stood in a park rated "general audiences," they broke apart reluctantly. John gazed at her and his hands both touched her face in a way so familiar to her. Again, she thought he was straining to remember her and the way they'd been together.

At last he kissed her cheek and, without speaking, they meandered to her car. As she started the finely-tuned engine, she asked softly, "Where to?"

He looked over and replied, "Back to your townhouse? I'd like to take that drive I talked about earlier."

"Of course." When they arrived, Marlena gave John her extra garage door opener. After a trip upstairs, he swiftly returned, and said as he climbed into his driver's seat, "I don't know how long I'll be…."

Nonchalantly she assured him, "Not a problem. Take all the time you want. If you come back really late, you'll be able to get into the townhouse through the garage."

He waved in acknowledgement and reversed out and into the street. Once he was gone, Marlena closed the garage door and went upstairs. In her front room, she kicked off her shoes and lay down on the sofa.

Her emotions were all roiled again. She had no claim on John Finley Darrow. He could decide to go back and live in his house in Santa Rosa and just visit his children and grandchildren and have them visit him. She still had no idea what he had planned to do in his retirement. For that matter, he probably didn't know yet either.

But she did know if he couldn't remember their love, chances were good that she and he would be on separate tracks for the rest of their lives. The anguish of that slashed her heart. She and John belonged together. Of course in the beginning, Orpheus, and then Roman and Isabella, had obstructed that togetherness after only a short period of 'marriage,' but now they had another chance in the autumn of their lives. If only they could fully grasp that ring of opportunity, that ring of grace. Marlena was ready to grab it. But it was useless to do so by herself. John had to be right there with her, and they both had to reach for it and claim it together.

Marlena knew stewing about it wouldn't change a thing. She hoped while John drove around, letting everything he'd learned in the last six days percolate in his own confused mind, he'd give serious thought to her suggestion to continue hypnosis. She could think of no better way to stimulate in him some connection to the past, because, even though he had met her, Carrie, Brady, Emma, and Eric - all of them from his unrecalled past - those meetings hadn't jerked loose his memory block.

Afraid to wallow too much in the morose possibilities, Marlena picked herself up, stepped into her shoes again, and left the townhouse.

She knew where she aimed her Mercedes. John hadn't wanted to go there, but now, by herself, Marlena headed into the heart of Salem and once parked, she walked a block to…The Brady Pub.

At 4:37 in the afternoon, a lull time, the bar and the tables didn't hold too many customers yet. But the person Marlena hoped would be there was: Steve "Patch" Johnson. Working behind the bar, he looked up when the door's little bell chimed, and a welcoming smile burst on his face. "Marlena! Hi!" He came out and gave her a hug.

"Hi, Steve. So good to see you."

"You too." Steve gave her a conspiratorial look and lowered his voice, "Kayla told me that huge news. About John. I can't wait to see him. Is he right behind you?"

Marlena smiled as they sat down at an empty booth. Kayla and Steve owned the pub now that her parents had both died. Steve, who'd served in the Merchant Marines with Bo Brady when they were young, had done some shady things when he came back to Salem, but then served law enforcement in several capacities, including occasional ISA agent. Now, being largely retired from such activities, he ran the pub. "It is great news. But you're going to have to wait a little longer to see John. Right now, he's taking a drive and trying to digest everything. He needed some time by himself.

"Yeah, I can imagine. Amnesia is a bitch. You know that, and I know it too." Steve added, "It sounds like he has a really odd case of it. Kayla said he now remembers his early life before Salem - which was a total blank when he was here before."

Marlena nodded and continued the thought, "And he remembers the last 18 years. But now it's 1985 through early 2002 that are missing from his memory."

"Very strange. How is that even possible?"

"I don't know. It's definitely one for the medical books."

"So, he doesn't remember me, right?" Steve, whose black eye patch was famous, continued, "So he doesn't remember that I got hold of him when he came to Salem with his head swathed in bandages, and, finding out that Victor Kiriakis wanted to get his hands on him, tried to sell him to Victor?"

"No," Marlena gave him a kiddingly baleful glare. "And you probably shouldn't lead off with that when you see him." She added, "Good thing you didn't succeed, by the way."

"Well, he - we called him The Pawn then since we didn't know his name or anything much about him - escaped." Steve said matter-of-factly.

"He doesn't remember any of us, Steve." Marlena couldn't help the note of self-pity her voice betrayed when she said that.

"I'm sorry. Finding him, but being denied a real reunion. That's just not fair to you. Or him, even though he doesn't know it, does he?"

Marlena wanted to cry, but she held back the tears. "It's just so gut-wrenching. I can see him, I can touch him, and talk to him. But the essential ingredient that made him love me the way I still love him is missing!"

"Hey, honey, listen." Steve leaned over the table and held her hand as his one good eye engaged her. "You know that sufferers of amnesia are a fickle lot. There's no predicting when one of us will get lost memories back. Have some faith. Give him some time, okay?"

"I do know that, and I've always been so thankful you regained your memory. But, as you know, I haven't. The years I was held by Orpheus are still a blank to me. And, as John said upfront, he has been missing the years 1984- 2001 for nearly twenty years now too. The longer they are blocked, the less likely they'll be recovered."

He looked thoughtfully, even pleadingly, at her. "What can I do to help, Marlena? Whatever you and John need, I'm here for you. Kayla and I are here for you."

"I know, Steve. You don't know how much that means to me. And if I think of something specific you can do, believe me, I'll be rushing over to ask."

Steve nodded approvingly. "I guess John has been pretty swamped by everything he's learned."

"Definitely," Marlena agreed.

"Okay, so I've gotta be patient. I'll wait until he comes to me." He looked uncertain. "Do you think that's the right move? Or will I wait forever if I do that?"

"I think that's the right tack for right now. He probably will come here to the Pub and see you and Kayla and any other Brady or Johnson or Horton who's around and remembers him. After all, the party for Eric, Sami and Tad will be here, and I think he'll attend that. Just don't expect too much."

"Is he okay - besides the amnesia, I mean?"

"He had a terrible fall a couple years ago. It took a long time for him to recover from his injuries, and he's still working on rehabilitation for his left lower leg which he broke very badly. And, of course, like all of us, he's older. But he's still in good shape, and still a very good man.

"I think Carrie, Brady, Emma, and Eric were all thrilled to see him, and he showed them all love. Sami's the only one who's missed out, but on Wednesday, she is expected here."

As Marlena finished this thought, Kayla walked through the door. And so, the three of them had dinner together and talked more about John. But they also talked about Marlena's other experiences at the Palo Alto Veterans' Hospital, about Joey, Steve and Kayla's son, about a vacation the Johnsons were planning at Christmas, and other subjects that took Marlena out of herself and her worries for a while.

At 7:30 Marlena excused herself and took a call from Brady who wanted to know if he could come over and see her and John. Marlena explained about John taking some time for himself, and Brady totally understood. "I was going to call him directly at first, but now I'm glad I didn't disturb him," he said.

"Honey, maybe tomorrow evening will work. I'll ask him when I see him, alright?"

Thinking this interruption was opportune to fully excuse herself and go home, Marlena thanked Steve and Kayla for their company and home-cooked food, and left the pub.

She then wandered around Salem Place, window shopping. Many of the shops sported Halloween decorations, a few complete with noises meant to startle and give a little fright. The lights were being extinguished in many that closed at 8 p.m. As she loitered in front of the men's store display, she reflected she hadn't had any need to enter and purchase anything there since Roman died. Now, she wondered, would she again be a patron there, or would she pass by without any need to stop in?

Marlena saw a few people she knew as she strolled, but she didn't seek them out, and they either didn't see her in return or were preoccupied and couldn't come to her. She didn't worry about walking alone in this area. As long she stayed in well-traveled zones, she felt secure.

Lost in her own thoughts about John, she stared unseeingly into several other windows. Perhaps her dreaded scenario would play out. Perhaps John would never be able to recall their earlier love. Then what? Could they salvage something valuable even then? John had kissed her a few times, and she knew that like within herself, passion had also risen in him. Their bodies still reacted to each other. Could that be a reflex or a learned response left over from their earlier lovemaking? Or was it simply that both of them had been without lovers for a while, and desire took its cue from that celibacy? Whatever the reason, the mutual attraction, the mutual passion still existed.

And, of course, they had other commonalities. They shared a daughter, and two grandchildren. They had, in various ways, other grown children to whom they were connected. Marlena hoped John would be able to meet Sami's children, and would love them too. John would hopefully get to know Kayla and Steve, Kim and Shane, Victor Kiriakis (who was, after all, Brady's grandfather on the maternal side, and who, in his old age, didn't step outside the law, at least not to the degree he had when John came to Salem in 1985), his son Justin and his wife, Adrienne, and perhaps even Bo and Hope if they returned to Salem for a visit. In other words, she hoped he would put down roots here. That he'd want to make this city his home instead of Santa Rosa, California.

Perhaps even if he never remembered, he might fall in love with her again. Once the shock of all he'd learned about his missing years wore off, he might focus more on her and see a match between them as fortuitous to himself as well as to her. The physical part was there. The built-in family and friends were there.

But, she thought forlornly, I don't want him to be with me just for those reasons. Sure, they're important, but I want the real thing with him. The fact that John was as reserved as he was with her told her he had not (and she'd said this already) felt the electric zap of love at first sight this time. That crushed her heart. Not because her ego took a pounding, but because her innermost self - which she had given to John in 1986 - yearned for the sealing of souls they'd once had. Again, she asked herself whether she could "settle" for anything less than that with him. Would she be willing to accept him on terms by which he did love her, but not to the same extent he had once?

As she continued down the street-lighted blocks with little traffic, she realized Pier 29 lay just ahead. Why not? She'd go and see if the water and the quiet there might offer her a little clarity. As she approached she also prayed interiorly, "Dear Lord, I thank you with every fiber of my being for bringing John back into my life and the lives of the children. I'm so grateful that he's generally well, and still such a good, caring man. Lord, you know my request. Please grant John the ability to remember his entire past. Please give him access to it so he can fully love all those who love him. And, yes, dear God, I ask this for myself as well. Please, please permit him to remember our true love. Amen."

Now at the top of the wooden pier staircase for the second time, Marlena noticed the clear, crisp night. The beautiful vault of the heavens stretched around her, and she could see more of the Milky Way than she could in Salem Place. She shivered a little, not really from coldness, but from the enormity of being one tiny person on this tiny planet, in this little solar system that traveled around the galaxy that was only one of billions of other galaxies.

It brought to mind a paraphrase of what Rick Blaine had famously uttered in that classic old movie: "Our problems don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy old world." In this gargantuan universe, did her heartache about John matter? Yes, she thought, it matters. I just prayed to the Creator of the Universe because He cares about each of us. He cares about John. He cares about me. We have to do our part and live as courageously as we can, but I can ask God to help us and have faith He wants to do just that.

She looked down and saw a few people in the dimmer light there. She paused and let her eyes adjust to that level of light. She felt a little mesmerized...

And then she saw him. He stood near the edge of the pier, and no one else was around after all. And, just as he'd done so many years ago, he was throwing little bits of something she couldn't identify into the river, a kind of act of meditation, a physical roteness, something like the rhythmic movement of rosary beads in the hands of one repeating Hail Marys.

And unlike that epic night in 1991 when fog blanketed this pier, as mentioned already, tonight she saw with crystal clarity. Nevertheless, like her younger self, Marlena proceeded down the steps until she nearly reached the landing. It flitted through her head that she should more fully reenact the 1991 night by calling out, "Roman." But she quickly discarded that.

"John." She did not speak loudly. And he did not hear her. So, again, with a little more volume, she called him. "John." She also rustled a bit on the stairs, but still he remained so engrossed in his own thoughts, he did not turn to her. Clearing her throat, she called out, with a bit of amusement in her voice, "John!"

Apparently slightly startled, he abruptly turned his head toward her. Marlena knew she was standing in a pool of light so he could see her clearly. Unlike in '91, her hair didn't run down her back. And, of course, the years had aged her skin which had been so youthfully supple back then. But she was still the woman who loved him. Could he see that?

John, so like his earlier self, turned to look at the vision she presented. He didn't move. He just drank her in. Then his eyes closed. He squeezed them shut. His face looked pained. He raised a hand to his forehead and pressed against it, then moved the hand to his scarred temple. He staggered, shifting closer to the river.

Alarmed, Marlena started toward him. What was happening? She didn't want him taking a header into the water - as he had deliberately done right after their '86 wedding - and she hoped to God he wasn't experiencing a brain aneurysm. But he apparently heard her movement and held up the other hand to stop her. She obeyed and remained where she was.

For what seemed like minutes, neither moved. Marlena hardly dared to breathe. John, though, took deep, ragged, very audible breaths. From the waist, he leaned forward a few degrees, and Marlena thought he might retch.

Then his crisis seemed to pass. He stood upright, let his hands fall down from his head, and opened his eyes. Behind his glasses, Marlena could see tears rolling down his cheeks. Completely baffled, she again started to close the distance with him, but he moved more swiftly and in the few steps, met her.

Then he reached out and pulled her into his arms, tightening his hold and lifting her off the platform. "Doc! Oh, Doc!" It's you! I know you! I remember you! I love you so much!"

Exhilaration filled Marlena. Although he was embracing her so tightly she could barely fill her lungs to speak, she managed a whispery squeak in his ear, "John! You do? You remember us?"

John, still holding her in the air, twirled her around a couple times - almost as though they were dancing. Then he set her down, and as soon as she raised her head to meet his eyes, he brought his lips down on hers in a lung-bursting marathon kiss that began with passion and finally finished with star-bursting white-hot fire.

Jubilation overflowed in Marlena too, and as she and John held each other body to body and cheek to cheek, she felt her now copious tears mingling with his.

...Marlena jerked out of her trance. Where was she? Oh, yes, Pier 29. Except she no longer stood on the steps, but had inexplicably moved down to the dock area itself, and quite a ways down the pier length. What had just happened to her? Had she "daydreamed" that scene? Had it been a vision? A cruel game of the mind? So many emotions deluged her: desolation, betrayal, bewilderment, fury.

What mattered was, it wasn't real. John wasn't there with her. He hadn't remembered her. He didn't love her as he had once.

Not by the water's edge, but back in the shadows of the looming pier, Marlena broke down and sobbed inconsolably. Her anguish consumed her so completely that she had no awareness of her surroundings.

Then she felt a very sharp blow to her shoulder. Forcing herself to surface from her inner suffering, she swiped at her face, clearing the tears from her eyes and cheeks. She'd have thought this night couldn't get worse, but now she saw the peril that proved her wrong.

Three young gang members (?) loosely encircled her. One, directly in front of her, grasped a switchblade knife. Another one waved a broken bottle, and the third she felt rather than saw because that person stood in her blind spot. It was the third ruffian who had apparently punched her to get her attention.

Switchblade nastily spat at her, "Quit yer wailin', broad. Give us yo phone an yo bag. Now. Or y' get this." He brandished the blade at her.

Marlena's heart pounded as her mind finally gauged the danger. She saw no one else on the pier now. If she didn't hand everything over, they would set upon her and likely stab and cut her viciously, leaving her to bleed out here. But if she did hand over the valuables, would they just melt away, or would they still harm her?

As a psychiatrist, Marlena had dealt with street criminals who came to her for court-ordered therapy. Her experience told her these were not just kids who got off on bullying but weren't going for a life of crime. These men were probably all in their late twenties and gave the impression of being hardened, repeat offenders who probably had escaped apprehension in their past muggings and other misdemeanors and felonies. They exuded arrogance and confidence that they'd picked a perfect victim tonight.

Marlena saw all three assailants now, the third one having shuffled into her line of sight. He had no visible weapon, but he loomed massive and muscular, and his beefy fists could probably beat anyone into mincemeat. She faced the river (but she couldn't see past the men), and the menacing trio crammed around her, presenting their backs to the pier stairs.

If she passively gave them her purse, she had a 50% chance of being left unhurt. Still the feisty side of her rebelled at being a victim. And for a fleeting moment, a recollection of SHENANIGANS and the gun wielding punks who'd threatened her there raced across her mind.

"Hand it over NOW, you m-." Beefy Fists grabbed the purse off her shoulder with one hand and shoved her viciously with the other. Marlena shrieked fearfully, drowning out his ugly epithet. She fell hard onto the pier.

The three hoodlums jeered and crowded around her threatening all kinds of mayhem. Switchblade jabbed the blade at her helpless, prone body.

Then a deep, hard voice behind the men angrily commanded, "STOP." Beefy Fists swiveled his huge frame to the sound first, murder in his eye. And something whistled, and a snake-like thing whipped down on his muscled hams of arms. He howled in pain.

Immediately after, Switchblade watched his knife go flying as something inflexible flashed, and crashed down on his hands. Marlena, dazed and scared as hell but not really hurt, was sure she heard the sound of breaking bones as he crazily lurched backward, agony written on his face. The flashing thing whiffed through the air and caught Switchblade's shins too, and he cried out again and fell to his knees only a couple feet from Marlena.

Meanwhile, Broken Bottle saw the intruder become visible (just as Marlena did) as his two fellow hooligans struggled to regain their senses after the turbo attack. He cocked his arm and hurled his beer bottle at the attacker. Undoubtedly aiming for the forehead, his panicked throw missed slightly and careened off John's left, already scarred, temple, knocking the side piece of his glasses askew. For a moment, John stood immobile and stunned.

Despite the bottle wound beginning to bleed profusely, John recovered his wits. He charged Broken Bottle and slammed him back against the logs that held up the pier in the rear with so much force the criminal hit his head and slid to the plank floor unconscious.

However, Beefy Fists and Switchblade were not finished. They both came at John. "John! Behind you!" Marlena warned shrilly.

Marlena, by the way, had not been frozen in place during this remarkable struggle. When John went for Broken Bottle, she scrambled the few feet needed to snatch the knife off the pier.

Hearing her shout, he pivoted. His cane could cut a wide swath, and he swung it hard, catching Switchblade with another blow, this time to the ribs. Groaning and doubled over with his newest pain, Switchblade backed up and Beefy Hands stayed out of the arc of the cane.

Before either of them could pick up the makeshift "bullwhip" John had fashioned out of a clot of rough rope he'd apparently taken from a pier hook, John ordered thickly, "Get out of here," Trying to control his breathing he added. "I called the police. Your pal," he pointed to the unconscious one, "is going to jail. Stick around and you will too."

Rubbing the visibly scarlet and swelling rope burns on his arms, Beefy Hands backed off. "Come on," he told Switchblade whose broken hands could no longer hold the blade again even if he grabbed it back from Marlena.

They hightailed it for the stairs, but as they ran up, a few of Salem's finest stopped them cold.

All three would-be-muggers were carted off to jail, although the emergency room became their first stop.

As soon as the two ran, Marlena picked herself up and rushed to John. His head continued to bleed, as head wounds do. She led him to a bench, "John, sit down so you don't faint." She found a clean handkerchief once she retrieved her purse from where it had bounced after Beefy Hands dropped it. Carefully, she held the cloth to his wound to try to stop the loss of blood.

A couple of the officers came to their aid, and instead of waiting for an ambulance, they took both John and Marlena to University Hospital, and Marlena ensured John received the best care from the resident on duty there. She knew Doctor Diane Ushida well.

She stayed in the treatment room with him while they assessed his wound. The bleeding had stopped but a slip of skin lay against his cheek, partially sheared away from his temple. "That will need stitches," Doctor Ushida said. "We don't need to do an MRI for this, but since you were slashed with a broken bottle that could have been anywhere, I'll give you a tetanus shot too."

Doctor Ushida also noticed his glasses next to John. "Glad the bottle didn't shatter those."

John replied listlessly, looking at the doctor but not Marlena, "They're not glass. They're polymer. But, yeah, glad they're not broken since they're my only pair."

Then he did rest his eyes on Marlena. He said, "Doctor, check her out too. She was pushed to the ground. Make sure she's not hurt."

Marlena demurred. "I'll have a few bruises, but I'm okay, really. Nothing's broken, nothing's sprained." John shot her a dubious look.

The resident skillfully gave John both a local anesthetic (he grimaced) and the tetanus shot before she stitched the flap of loose skin back into place, dabbed the area with disinfectant, and put a bandage over it. "I see you already had a previous injury there," she said as she worked.

"Yes," he agreed. "Now I'll have a double scar there."

Marlena said, "I don't think this one will be very noticeable after it heals completely. Or am I wrong, Diane?"

Doctor Ushida assured him that Marlena was right.

"Doesn't matter," he said without much inflection.

John seemed preoccupied or detached to Marlena. She wondered if he had briefly lost consciousness in the police car. She hadn't been sure. Maybe the bottle had smacked him harder than they thought. Now, he was certainly conscious, but seemed almost in a twilight zone.

His own blood dramatically stained nearly the entire front of his shirt, and the nurse assisting Diane, Jenni Constans, had offered him something to wear instead until he got "home," but John declined. "I'll change it when I get back to the townhouse,'' he told her. Then, he seemed to rouse himself briefly, and a little black humor crept out of him, "I'm all ready for the local Halloween horror house. Just point me to it." The ladies laughed.

When the doctor and the nurse left the treatment room, they were free to go. Marlena had given a preliminary report to the police officers already, and they, knowing she was the widow of Roman Brady, decorated and high-ranking former member of the force, had volunteered to round up both her and John's automobiles and park them outside Marlena's townhouse. Then they'd brought the keys back to them. Now, Officers Podesta and Washington would give the two a ride back to her home. Tomorrow, she and John would go into the station and sign the charges being proffered against the three muggers. Marlena thought John would probably meet Abe then.

John said virtually nothing on the short drive to the townhouse, although he joined Marlena in thanking the officers for everything once they arrived.

He and Marlena both drove their respective cars into the garage, locked up and headed upstairs.

Seeing the red mess on his shirt, John said, "I'll go change." Then checking his watch, he amended his plan, "It's getting late. I'll see you tomorrow."

Before she could say anything he'd already started up the stairs, using the cane he had obviously brought with him when he'd gone out for his drive earlier that afternoon (although Marlena hadn't seen him with it earlier). He took it slowly.

Marlena knew it was about 10 p.m. She flailed internally, unsure what to do. She thought his strange attitude due to anger at her for putting herself in danger on the pier. Should she follow him and apologize? Or should she wait until tomorrow after they'd both had some rest, and their nerves had returned to normal?

When she and John had been married, they had tried never to go to bed angry at one another. They didn't always succeed, but she felt wrong about leaving things so unsettled between them tonight.

Making her decision, she turned off the lights on the second floor and followed him to the third. She did feel some aches and pains from her fall, but she ignored those. Taking a deep breath, she marched down the hall to the guest room he occupied. The door leaned partially open, and she could see him as he unbuttoned that bloodied shirt and pulled it from his pants, simultaneously turning his back to the door as he took it off. She put her hand up to knock on the door but as she completed the action, she drew in her breath sharply at what she saw.

John, probably hearing both the rap and her gasp, wheeled around to face her. Seeing her shocked face, he said tonelessly, "Come in then."

"John," she began.

He held the shirt away from his body and said, "Take a good look." He turned slowly so she could see his entire upper body, front and back. Pitting scars from some kind of instrument, burn marks- including acid burns, she thought - and some slashing marred his front. His back, still, as he'd said, carried the old phoenix tattoo, but he also carried deep whip scars and, again, some burn marks, and some indentations she couldn't identify.

Instead of speaking - because she couldn't have even if she'd wanted to - Marlena came to him as he faced away from her and put her arms around his waist. With tears running down her face, she kissed every single torture scar she could. At the first touch of her lips to his skin, John tried to pull away, but she stubbornly held on, continuing her mission.

Then she moved around and kissed all the marks on his chest. She did not look at his face, fearing disapproval or revulsion from him. After she had found each one, she laid her head against his hard-beating heart, her tears of sorrow for his pain still running, creating little trails down his chest and abdomen.

John still didn't speak, but he put his arms around her too.

Finally, Marlena said, "I'm so sorry, John."

John put his hand in her hair and gently pulled her face up so they looked into each other's eyes. Marlena saw his wet eyes and cheeks. "Why? You didn't do it. And," he swallowed hard, "no one has ever reacted to these scars with the love you just did."

"Yes, I'm sorry for your pain. No one should ever be treated like that. But, also, I mean I'm sorry for putting myself in danger tonight. If you hadn't come and saved me, I might still be lying on the pier now, dying or dead."

John stared at her. Probably without thinking, he tightened his hold on her hair. "Why did you do that?" he demanded, "What were you thinking being on that pier by yourself? YES! You could have been killed."

In a small, chastened voice she said, "It's hard to explain. It's kind of embarrassing, in fact."

Lowering his hands, disengaging, and moving a couple feet back, John glared at her. "Embarrassing? What are you talking about?"

Marlena dropped her gaze to the floor. "When I came to the pier and stood on the staircase, I had the most vivid daydream or vision, John. It seemed so real. I saw you down by the water's edge, and when I called to you, you told me you remembered about us. We were both ecstatic. You whirled me around and we kissed like we used to do. But then the dream evaporated and I found myself down deep along the docks. Before I could go back up the stairs, those men accosted me. I had no idea you were there until you took on those three single-handedly and saved me."

"I wasn't there before, Marlena. When I came down the staircase, I saw the gang clustered around a woman. I didn't know it was you at first. Fortunately I had my very sturdy metal cane, and I grabbed the rope and crept up. It wasn't until I was quite close that I realized it was you."

John reached out and held Marlena by the shoulders. "Thank God you weren't hurt!" he said roughly and low in his throat. He pulled her close again and nearly wouldn't let her breathe. But abruptly, he let go. He closed his eyes and swayed a little.

Alarmed, Marlena called his name again, "John. What is it? Maybe you have a concussion. Sit down here." She tugged him to the end of the bed and urged him down.

John held his head in his hands, forgetting his bandaged temple for a moment, but then moving his hand away from it. He took off his glasses, tossing them on the bed, and Marlena saw a few bloodstains on the wire frames and one lens. He rubbed his eyes. "It's odd that you had that vision."

"It was so real," Marlena repeated.

His naked gaze - for the first time really looking directly into her eyes without lenses between them - speared her. Then he looked away, fixing his eyes on the door. "When I got hit with the bottle, I nearly blacked out. And then I had this rush of images. They were so disjointed, and fleeting. That's why I was so quiet at the hospital and when we were driven here. I had a few more. I could still see some of the images in my mind's eye, and I tried to make sense of them."

John shifted his eyes back to hers as she breathlessly listened. "When I came into this room, I saw something a little longer." He paused, apparently marshalling his thoughts. "You were standing in front of me, so awesomely beautiful. Dressed in a white gown, wearing an ornate headdress. I could tell I was formally dressed and had a flower in my lapel. There was a minister or a priest, and people witnessing."

Marlena exclaimed, overjoyed. "Oh, John, this is wonderful. This could be the breakthrough." She forced herself to slow down. He had been injured tonight. He needed to rest. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

"It is late. I need to let you get some sleep. But, John, tomorrow, will you allow me to hypnotize you again and see if we can't bring out more of these scenes that are partially imaging in your brain now?"

Her eyes, her entire face danced with excitement. She leaned her head toward him, and kissed him lightly on the lips. She then started to rise from the bed. But John's hand reached out and his long, strong fingers entwined with her more delicate ones. "Do it now," was all he said.

"I don't know. Maybe it's better to wait until we can start this fresh tomorrow."

"Do. It. Now." He added, "Please."

She acquiesced. He put on a fresh shirt, set his glasses back on his nose, and sat in the chair while she continued to sit on the bed. Within minutes, John was under and Marlena guided him to the flashes of memory the bottle injury had provoked. He told her he still only got a bunch of very brief flashes of images and he couldn't separate them or put them in any chronological order.

"Okay, that's fine, John. Don't worry about that. Don't try to force anything. The images will hopefully resolve themselves over time. You said you had a little longer memory of our wedding though. Put yourself in that frame. Can you see that?"

There was a long pause. He seemed to be searching for it. Then his face resolved and he nodded, "I see you in your dress. My hands are all sweaty and I feel like I'm burning up in the monkey suit I'm wearing."

Marlena chuckled, "You looked very handsome in that tux, John. I promise you. And very sexy too." Turning serious again, she said, "What else can you see, hear, or feel?"

"I'm putting the ring on your finger. I also see you putting mine on me." John moved his ring finger. "I can feel that gold band on my finger now."

"How do you feel, John? What do you feel as you stand there with me?"

He frowned, apparently trying to access that. "I'm not sure. I can see how happy you are. I feel incredibly nervous. My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears."

She waited, thinking to herself - please, John, remember how much you loved me. Please remember.

"I keep thinking how beautiful you are." Suddenly he laughed, surprising Marlena. Explaining that he told her, "I kissed you before it was time!"

Laughing with him, she replied, "Hmm nn. You did. And I didn't mind a bit."

John scowled then. "What is it?" Marlena asked, worried that he was losing the memory. He didn't answer right away. He stretched his neck and scrunched his eyes as if concentrating more. Marlena said, "Don't strain, John. Relax and let it flow as it will. Don't try to organize it. We can do that later."

He recited, " 'That is the true season of love.'

'When we believe that we alone can love'

'When no one has ever loved before us'

'And no one will ever love in the same way after us.' "

Marlena beamed. "You hear us saying that?"

John nodded, and then his face blushed bright red. His voice cracked, "I love you so much. Every single molecule in my body loves you. My emotions are so exposed and raw. I feel like one big nerve. You said you loved me and I'm struck dumb because all I can think is I love you too! You can't possibly love me any more than I love you, Doc!"

Now it was Marlena who was struck dumb. John was remembering! He was actually feeling the love he'd felt for her back then!

"You're my soulmate. The love of my life. You're the one who makes me feel whole and safe and cherished. You're the one who loves me the same way I love you. And we both knew it when we shook hands in SHENANIGANS."

"Yes, John." Marlena murmured, felt the tears well up. But she wondered whether he would feel it after he came out of the hypnosis.

They had milked everything they could. "It's time to come back to the present, John. You'll remember everything. When I count to three, open your eyes. One. Two. Three."

John did open his eyes, and he just ruminated for a few moments, saying nothing. Marlena smiled at him. "You did great, John. You remembered so much!"

John got to his feet, and he took Marlena's hand and urged her to stand with him. His fingertips began to gently touch her face all over as if he were a blind man. She didn't know why he was doing it, but she let him. Then he kissed her. Again, gently.

After that, he enveloped her in his arms, with his head next to hers, his warm breath tickling her ear. He whispered, "I'm so sorry I've been gone so long. But it worked out as it was supposed to. You had a long marriage with Roman, and I couldn't have stayed in Salem when we couldn't have each other. Now, it's different again. You found me, and you also found a way to release my long imprisoned, unrecognized love for you. It's back, Doc. I feel it again with every fiber of my being. There's so much I still don't remember, but I know I loved you, and I still do. Just as much. Maybe more. I love you with all my heart."

Marlena's heart sang a joy she could hardly contain. She tightened her arms around his neck, stood on her toes and whispered in his ear, "I love you, John. I can't even begin to tell you how full my heart is right now. I think I love you more right this minute than I ever have. Ever since we met, you've been my greatest love, and I'm sorry we've had to spend so many years apart. But, we have time left, and I want to spend it with you, my love, if you'll let me."

In response to that declaration, John kissed Marlena with unbridled passion. They would not spend tonight in separate rooms, or separate beds. Tomorrow, they would have fresh challenges, more people to see, and plans to make. Wednesday, Sami would descend on them. And Friday, the birthday party for Eric, Sami. and Tad would be celebrated at the Brady Pub. Then, in a few days John and Marlena would head back to Palo Alto and wrap up their respective obligations there. They would also pay a visit to John's home in the Snoopy world headquarters, Santa Rosa. And after that, they would again fly back to Salem. They would be joined in matrimony as Mr. and Mrs. John Finley Darrow as soon as they could arrange it, and both of them would rejoice in saying new vows and exchanging new rings with each other. They would carry on their life together for as long as God allowed them. And, although they would not be blissful every second of every day, John and Marlena would grace each other's lives and each of them would be eternally grateful for the ability to share love and life, children, and grandchildren with each other. It would not matter whether John ever recovered all his memories. He had remembered the woman he loved more than life itself, and that was all he and Doc needed.

Fin

The beloved characters from Days of Our Lives are not mine, but I borrowed them for this short novel. I have not profited financially from doing so.