Several Years Ago

"Why do I have to go away?"

Joey is next to me, holding my hand in an airport full of people I don't know. I swing my legs back and forth because they don't touch the ground. She squeezes my hand, but I just keep looking at my feet. I don't want her to see me cry. I'm not a baby. I'm not.

"It'll be okay, sweetie. You'll be home for Thanksgiving soon, and we can make that pie I promised we would this year. You're old enough to help, now," she smiles. Her voice sounds shaky and her eyes sad. I don't think she wants me to know she's crying, either. We're kind of the same like that.

Two days ago, my mom and dad sat across from me at the kitchen table and told me I'm leaving. I'm going away where I'll sleep at school and won't come home unless it's a holiday or summer. I've been on an airplane before, but only to go on vacation and never without Mom or Dad. But everything is different now. I'm six, and Mom says I have to go away to this school because no place around home is good enough, but she doesn't seem sad about it. She didn't even cry when I left with Joey for the airport.

My stomach hurts; I feel like I might throw up. I'm sad and confused, but I'm just a kid and my parents don't listen to me. They helped me pack my things and said I'd love school and will meet a lot of people and make them proud, but they never came to even one of my school programs for Kindergarten, so I don't know if they really mean it. How do they just know I'll be okay? I wonder if they'll forget about me.

"But I don't want to go. I'm afraid," I finally say. "What if no one likes me?"

I finally look up at Joey, because I know I won't see her for a really long time. Her eyes are wet, and brown like mine, and just being with her makes me feel better. She's flying with me and helping me get to the school, then she has to go back. She has to leave me there alone with people I don't know. Strangers.

I feel so sick.

"Oh, honey. That won't happen. They'll love you. You're a good girl and I'll bet you'll make lots of friends before you come home in a few months. I can't wait to hear the stories. You tell such good stories..." she stops and sniffles and swallows hard. She's not very old. She's younger than my Mom and Dad and doesn't have a family of her own, so I like to pretend she's a part of mine.

"But I will miss you," she adds, pushing a few strands of my hair behind my ear and smiling. "Very much." I smile and wrap my arms around her neck, happy she's here.

I don't remember a time without her. She's been with me since the day I was born. She's my best friend, and I love her. I love my parents, but they don't do things with me the way she does. They hardly read me stories or play dolls. And when I cry or I'm sad, she's the one that cheers me up. I'm not sure how I'll make it without her.

Present Day

"Take some time for yourselves. Get settled in," Joey's voice is as soft and reassuring as I remember as she leads up the stairs to the room we'll be staying in tonight. I'm stiff and sore from the long ride in, but my mind is a live wire, thrilled and curious at what this trip will bring. I follow behind her with one hand folded securely in Ryan's, my smile widening when I catch him looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

I'm incredibly grateful for this chance to reconnect with someone who was once a very vital part of my life, and while he knows I cared for her, I'm not sure he'll ever truly know what this means to me. I squeeze his hand once and mouth a very definite I love you as we continue down the hall.

It's every bit as cozy as I would have imagined, with a sweet, light scent of apples floating in the air and collages of framed photos along the wall. I eye them quickly, curious about the memories she's been making since the last time we saw each other. I want to know more, everything actually, but I'm not sure it's my place anymore and I don't want to seem nosy, so I make a note to check them out later on the trip back up tonight. I hope to get the chance to meet her children, and to properly thank her for giving me some of the only good memories I have of my childhood. I want to thank her for being there when no one else was.

Most of all, I'd like to know the real reason I never saw her after that cab ride to my new school. In adulthood, I've come to learn the stories my parents told me as a child were not always true. That they bent and molded them to fit their needs and couldn't have cared less about what it meant to anyone else-even me.

"I'll give you fair warning about the twins since you'll be sharing a bathroom with them," she smiles as we reach the room at the end of the hall. "Finn is in and out in 15 minutes at night, but it's a miracle if Katherine's morning routine clocks in at under an hour and a half. It's a sauna in there for a good thirty minutes after. God love them," she laughs and I can't help but smile at the affection in her voice as she talks about her kids. It's just so Joey, and it's exactly the tone she used with me; I've missed her more than I realized.

"Been there," Ryan says then lets out a descending whistle and smiles. "I've got a twin sister. We're grown up and married off, but I swear she's still hogging the bathroom. At least it feels that when she comes over, doesn't it, Hen?"

I shake my head and smile, grateful that my husband is so personable; He's got a knack for making any moment just a little more comfortable. Joey smiles and brushes a fuzz of his shoulder before her eyes flash to mine and hang there for just a few long moments. She's saying something without words, but I can't hear her. Not yet.

"Let me know if you need anything. There are fresh towels in the bathroom closet and extra blankets in closet in your room. You can turn on the space heater if you get too cold, and anything in the cupboards or refrigerator is fair game," she says kindly. "I'll put on some tea, or coffee if you'd rather...unless you're too tired..." her words linger and it's obvious she doesn't want us to go right to bed. I get the feeling she wants to talk to me as badly as I do her, so I shake my head and let her know we'll be down in just a few moments.

She's off with a smile and soon I'm behind closed doors with Ryan, plopping down on the soft queen size bed against the wall. I unwind my hair from the band securing my messy bun and let it fall loosely around me as I crash down on my back and stretch my arms out above my head. I yawn, not because I'm tired, but because my body can't keep up with the rest of me. I squeeze my eyes shut once, then prop myself up on my elbows and watch Ryan crouch down and unzip the duffel bag in front of the dresser. I'm not sure how long we plan to stay, but I don't think we'll need to unpack. Still, it's nice to watch him quietly as he slips his shirt over his head and searches for a clean one in our bag. It's over all too soon, and he's fully dressed and out of his boots before I can even suggest a quickie before we head back downstairs.

"She's sweet," he says softly, sitting next to me on the bed. "And she's happy to see you," his long, warm fingers stroke through my wavy hair as the tips touch the pillow and the corners of his mouth lift into a delicious smile. From the looks of it, I can tell he wants to say something else but can't find the words. I know how he feels. I've been a jumble of feelings since my memories came back. There is so much I want to say and do, so much lost time I'm desperate to make up for, but I take it one day at a time, because there's no way in hell I'm rushing through it; Life is far too beautiful to rush.

I turn and snuggle my cheek deeper into the soft pillow, staring up at him as I stifle another yawn. "I'm almost nervous, you know?" I say biting my lip and pulling myself up to sit beside him. "I shouldn't be...I just have so many questions," I say before a swallow. "But she wanted to see me? She called you?"

He nods and swallows and I see a troubled look in my eyes that matches the thick feeling in my throat. While I'm excited and this all seems amazing, it also feels big and heavier than it should.

"I'm just kind of wondering...why now?" I lick my lips and whisper. I'm sure she's downstairs fiddling with the tea kettle, but I don't want to run the risk of her hearing me if she's upstairs. "Did she try to contact you at all after the fire?"

"No," he says quickly. "She called me up one day after you'd woken up. Said she'd seen the press on the fire and your parents' death, saw you were in a coma and that they'd run a brief story in the newspaper saying you'd woken up, but that's it. I'm as confused as you are," he smiles and I let out a puff of air I'd been holding in my cheeks. I guess I'm more anxious than I realized.

"You ready for some answers?" He asks as he stands from the bed and reaches out a hand to pull me up with him. When I nod, he presses a kiss to my temple and opens the door for us without saying a word.

The trip down the hall to the staircase is longer than it was the first time. I've got jitters, excitement coursing through my veins. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my ears, and it's Ryan's warm hand between my shoulder blades that wakes me from my zombie march to let me know we've reached the living room.

There's a fire burning safely behind the glass of the fireplace a sectional couch in the corner of the soft green room. In the kitchen, I hear cabinets opening and closing and hot water being poured into ceramic mugs on the counter. I take a few steps toward the kitchen, feeling like I should go in and help her get things ready. I glance over my shoulder at Ryan, and as he lowers himself onto the couch, his eyes tell me to go. I'm grateful he's here with me for such a big moment, but I'm also thankful he understands I need alone time, too.

He's never smothering, but always there. He gets me, maybe even better than he did before the fire. He gets me enough to understand that I'm not the person I was when we met and that's not a bad thing. I'm happier, free, and I owe a lot of it to my accident, as horrible as that sounds. Waking up with no memory taught me the future doesn't always depend on the past, and it's a lesson I won't forget.

If it's possible, I love him more than ever. I'm so happy my heart didn't forget the things my mind did. I know life will never throw us so big a curve ball that we can't handle. I know no matter what, we'll always love each other like this.

I reach the kitchen just as Joey's setting bags of earl grey tea on a tray with our mugs. I mean to help, but I find myself awestruck, watching her as she works across the room the way I used to as a child. She looks the way she always has with a spring in her step and a smile in her eyes, but there are the making of wrinkles where there once was smooth skin and a few grey streaks in her beautiful dark hair.

Her hands shake as she sets a plate of cookies on the tray, so I walk up beside her at the counter and wrap my hands around the handles on each side to lift it.

"I've got it," I say softly and she rests her hand on my shoulder with a smile. Her hand is warm and she squeezes my shoulder once before letting go.

"Thank you," her voice waivers, from nerves or tears I don't know, but she's obviously experiencing some of the same anxiety I am. "Is this enough? How hungry are you? I could make up some sandwiches or put on some soup,"

"This is great. Thank you," I assure her. I lift the tray and peek into the living room where I see Ryan fast asleep on the couch with his head tipped back and his legs crossed at his ankles. How that man falls asleep so fast I'll never know, but I don't want to wake him after the long drive in we. I appreciate Ryan's support and willingness to be by my side through everything, but maybe it's best I do some things on my own. Maybe talking to Joey is one of them.

"He's exhausted," I offer with a smile. "Adorable and exhausted." Joey's eyes fall on my hands as I twist my wedding band around my finger-a habit I had before the fire that I've recently picked up. "I guess we should let him sleep, even if it means he'll be wide awake and antsy later when I'm trying to go to bed." I laugh, setting the tray down on the kitchen table and pulling out a chair.

Joey sits across from me and steeps her teabag in her mug of steaming hot water. She looks up at me and I can tell there are a million thoughts on the tip of her tongue. It feels like I've been waiting for this moment forever, and now that I'm here, I have no idea what to say.

So much has happened since we talked; I no longer need to ask her to help me tie my shoe or braid my hair, but the familiarity of sitting with her is as calming as it was when I was a child. I feel like I could tell her everything and she would just understand, but how and where do I begin to explain that I became a rebellious teenager who drank myself through the end of high school and only managed to graduate because my parents had full pockets and liked to pull strings? I don't expect her to know a thing about me, other than the fact that I lost my parents in a fire and fell into a crazy long coma.

Some of the stories I have to tell may disappoint her, shock her even. But the life I'm building now, and have been building from the time Ryan and I moved in with his Mother to the time we got our own place, is the kind of story I'm proud to tell.

The smile that spreads across Joey's lips is genuine and soft. Her big eyes squeeze closed once, and when she opens them, they're glassy.

"It's amazing, you know..." she bites her lip and runs her finger along the rim of her mug. She seems as nervous as I am. "To be sitting here with you, eighteen years later, drinking real tea instead of the imaginary stuff."

"And with my husband snoring just a few feet away," I add, tipping my head back toward the living room. "Life's pretty crazy like that. I've learned just about anything can happen. And just about everything has happened to me. Good and bad."

Suddenly I find myself wanting to tell her everything; when it comes right down to it, she's the first friend I ever had. I wonder what kind of ideas she's got swimming in her head about the way I grew up after she was gone. And I think one day I will tell her...just not tonight.

"But it's all good now. I'm happy and getting back to normal. Settling down and all that, now that my memories are all coming back. Took a few wrong turns on the way, but I'm a lucky woman, and I realize that now." I sip my tea and smile, happy to settle on that summary.

"I'm sorry about the way I left you. It's haunted me for years. I can't even tell you." I know what she means, but I also always sort of thought I'd blown her departure out of proportion because I was small and it really did feel like the end of the world when I came back from Thanksgiving and she was gone. But she looks broken up about it, and I wonder if she really did love me more than just as much as her job required.

"What really happened? I mean with Mom and Dad...and you," I clear my throat. I've always been sort of afraid of this answer, because I can't imagine Joey just up and leaving on her own. Believing my cold-hearted parents fired her or sent her away was always the easier scenario. And maybe by now I should be over it, but I'm not, because it's just another thing unanswered.

"They said you left hours after you came home from the airport. Mom said it had been the plan all along...that once I was away at school, you had no intentions of sticking around or coming back for summers. They told me I was nothing more than a job to you, and once I was gone, you were off to take care of someone else..." As I say the words, I can feel the blood working its way into my cheeks.

I'm a grown woman, but I feel like a child begging for answers about something that is long over and done.

"I had to leave," her voice is shaky. "I couldn't stand it anymore. Couldn't be there with them. Couldn't stand the fact that they'd sent you away to school for strangers to raise instead of me..." She stops, "And chosen not to raise you themselves."

Her eyes flicker with sadness and...shame? She reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers and I can feel a shift in the air. Whatever it is she's about to say, it's big. I hold my breath as I meet her brown eyes, and pray like hell I'm not about to get my heartbroken all over again.

"You didn't want me to go away to school?" I frown, confused. While I loved her for the way she cared for me, I always knew I was her job. I was too little to really understand it, but she always seemed brave and strong. I heard her speak up to my parents if she disagreed with something, but the next day she'd keep her eyes on the floor when she passed them, and I assumed she'd gotten a stern reminder of her place, much like I often did when I misbehaved.

I heard her argue with my father a few times, but I was too small to understand why. But it always passed over...always ended there and we went on living. I didn't think I'd lose her.

"No. I hated the idea at first, and not just because I figured I'd be out of a job. You were so young and vulnerable. You needed love...love I constantly saw them neglect to show you. So while I hated the idea of you being sent away, I secretly thought being away from that environment was maybe for the best. Needless to say, they didn't like what I had to say regarding any of it,"

"Let me guess," I swallow, saddened and surprised by this touching information. "My father reminded you that you were 'just the help?'" I offer sadly. "And they'd do whatever the hell they needed to do because it wasn't your business?"

"Your father is...was...a strong, confident man, there's no doubting that. He had a way with words and a way to put people in their place when he thought he needed to...but he wasn't the reason I left. Not really,"

I don't know where this is going, so I keep my mouth closed and hope for the best. I have no idea of the relationship she had with my parents or how she even came to be hired. I always imagined they'd just found a name in the classifieds and handed me off. I really wish I could tell her to hold on so I could wake Ryan, because it would really be nice to hold his hand if this turns crazy.

"I was young, Henley," suddenly, the color's gone from her cheeks. "Only 18 when it happened...23 when I left. I was naïve and afraid and I had no concept of consequences. I thought I was invincible...that it would never happen to me. I thought we were different...that he loved me..."

And just like that, my airways begin to close.

"I really thought he'd leave her. I thought we'd be together. That'd he'd pick me...us...but I was a fool, and you're the one who suffered for it..."

I've been holding my breath too long. There are tiny stars before my eyes that only multiply when I shut them. I take a deep breath and let it out, then repeat the process again and again while I work through a moment as it filters back into my mind.

"I was wrong, Henley. Wrong about everything. And I'll regret it for the rest of my life, because it wasn't fair to you..."

I don't need her to finish her story to know the truth. I know it...or knew some version of it. And I've known it for four years. I've buried it in the deepest, darkest part of my brain, and I wish so badly I could've remembered. But I know why my brain kept it hidden.

Remembering it hurts, and that was without these new details.

My entire life was a lie.