She was lying on her back in the sand, staring up into a gray sky. She could
hear the roll of the surf nearby, and the seagulls calling to each other. The
blond guy sat beside her. He was smiling down at her, and she didn't feel the
least bit afraid of him. Instead, she felt like she was home. She longed to
reach up and touch his face, but something held her still. She wanted to tell
him to pull her into his arms, but when she spoke, no sound came out.
She began crying and was awakened by her loneliness, to find herself cradled in
her husband's arms.
He seemed like a good man. He seemed to love her. She was grateful for that.
But as she studied his face as he slept - trying to tell herself that this was
her husband, the man she loved - the face of the blond man kept insinuating
itself in her memory.
She rested her head on her husband's chest. Who was the blond? What role did
he play in her life?
She considered getting up and searching the house for some clue to his identity,
but fell asleep again before moving a centimeter.
******************************
"Angela?"
Jacob looked around the dimly lit motel room, an exercise which took him a total
of two seconds. He remembered where he was, and sat up in bed. Reaching down,
he pulled the Seattle street map onto the bed and flicked on the lamp. With his
finger, he traced the route from the motel room to Ventura Street. He wondered
if he could just waltz in and get her. Somehow, he doubted it. Trelawney was
likely to have an electrified fence, pitbulls, and all manner of security
devices around his house.
Even assuming he could get in, there was no guarantee Angela would come with
him, unless she remembered. He had to make her remember. If only there was
some way to get an e-mail to her. The Sorcerer's voice would surely trigger her
memory, enough to get her to meet him somewhere.
But all this speculation was moot, because there was no way to get an e-mail to
her without Trelawney intercepting it. Face to face was his only hope.
He hopped into the shower, hoping to make himself presentable. He wondered if
she believed Trelawney, believed she was his wife. If so, she might be lost
forever. Jacob rested his forehead against the cool white tile, letting the hot
water trickle over his skin. He had never really stopped to think how important
Angela was to him, but she was. She was his touchstone. What would become of
him without her in his life?
That was why he'd sent her that first e-mail, the one that turned her life
upside down. He'd wanted an ally, yes, but more than that, he'd wanted a
friend.
He'd been dreaming, before he awoke; dreaming of Angela. They were lying on the
bed together, on their sides, facing each other and talking over the day's
events like they'd gotten into the habit of doing. She was saying something,
and laughing, when she'd started to fade away. He reached out and managed to
caress her lips before she disappeared altogether.
As he stood in the shower, he imagined her arms wrapping around him, her head
resting against his back. With a groan, he wiped the water off his face and
shut the tap off. Daydreaming wasn't going to bring her back. It was time to
get to work.
******************************
"You see? I told you."
Angela looked up from her cereal to see her husband holding aloft a small gold
wedding band.
"Right where you left it." He walked towards her from he kitchen sink, and
pulled her hand to him.
"Let me do the honors," he said. "Again." He slipped the ring onto her finger
and sat down next to her, one arm across her shoulders.
"Do you feel up to getting out today?" he asked.
She sipped her grapefruit juice before answering. "What did you have in mind?"
"I thought we could ride up to the Farmer's Market, do a little shopping, and
have lunch together."
"Don't you have to go to work?"
"No," he said too quickly. "Mr. Smith has given us some time off until you get
back on your feet."
"Us? You mean, we work together?"
Trelawney took a sip of his coffee, averting his eyes in the process. He set it
down gently on the mission table before answering. "Yes. We work for Copper
Canyon Technologies. You're a computer programmer."
"Copper Canyon . . . " Angela stared unseeing through the floor-to-ceiling
window that comprised one entire wall of the kitchen. The rolling hills were
lush with greenery, from the rich kelly of the weedless lawn to the green-black
of the ancient firs that skirted the yard. None of it registered with Angela,
who saw only a desert landscape.
"I work with computers . . . at Copper Canyon." It was part statement, part
question.
Her husband smiled nervously.
"Yes. You're one of the top employees."
She faced him again. "And you're a programmer too?"
"No, I'm just in administration. They leave all the brain work to geniuses like
you," he said, chucking her under the chin with a wink.
When she didn't reply, but continued to stare blankly into space, he added, "So,
do you want to come into town with me? I'm planning a special dinner for us
tonight, and I thought you could help me pick out the ingredients." He paused.
"And, well, I just want to spend some time with you, Angela. I know it makes
you uncomfortable to be alone with me right now, and I'm trying really hard not
to pressure you."
He looked down at her hand cradled in his. He pressed it to his lips before
staring soulfully into her eyes. "But I miss you, Angela. I miss you so much."
She melted at the sight of the tears welling up in his eyes, and pulled him into
her embrace.
"I'm sorry." She buried her face in his shoulder. "I know this is difficult
for you, and I know you're being patient, and I love you for it."
Trelawney smiled.
"Of course I'll go with you. Just give me an hour to shower and get dressed,
okay?"
He nodded, bravely holding back his tears. She gave him a quick kiss, then headed upstairs. Trelawney pulled her bowl of cereal over and finished it.
