by BrettJ © 2011
Elissa Edwards sat at the table in the cafe, drumming her fingers on the table. She looked down at her watch and tried to calm her nerves. It was only 12:25; Morgan wasn't late, so why was she fidgeting so much?
She could feel the admiring gazes she was getting from the other patrons, men and a number of women. She let herself bask in them, knowing that a scant 18 months ago; she would not have attracted such attention. Elissa very much enjoyed the attention and was looking forward to more of it in the future.
Had it really been 18 months? Yes, it had – almost 19. A very difficult 19 months since the accident that had changed her life forever. Although inn some ways, it had been a mixed blessing.
Elissa know knew that it's more of a fiction than a reality that when people are involved in a traumatic accident that they suffer from amnesia. A blow to the head did not cause the kind of memory loss that was often common in fiction and on television shows.
The other driver had not seen Elissa's tiny Mini Cooper; his SUV had ploughed into her at over 100 MPH and made the car unrecognizable. They had to rescue Elissa from the wreck with the "Jaws of Life" – or so they told her. Elissa didn't remember the crash at all. She was given only a 25% chance of living through the night and a 10% chance of living through the month. They hadn't reckoned on Elissa's sheer tenacity and will to live.
The other driver was killed instantly; an autopsy revealed his blood alcohol level was twice over the legal limit. That's what her husband told her when she was well enough to understand what had happened to her, many months down the road.
A lot of what Elissa now knew about herself came from stories and things people had told her, friends and family. The trauma had wiped out huge chunks of her past and after so long a period of time, the doctors told her that she likely wouldn't get much more back. Over time, a snippet here or a fragment there, but this was about the best she could hope for.
She knew her name was Elissa but she had forgotten about the Edwards, recalling her previous surname of Lang. She could remember her mother Dorothy's name and face, but her father Jonathan was less familiar. She remembered her high school graduation, but few of her friends. Elissa recalled the birth of both of her children and their names, but when she saw Tammy and Tyler; she was surprised to see both of them were now in their mid-teens. She remembered them as toddlers.
All of this had been especially hard on Doug, her husband. She remembered him the least and as she recovered in the convalescent home, she struggled to re-connect with her husband. She failed in that goal. Try as she might, she had almost no emotional attachment to the man she had been with for 17 years. In most ways, he was a cipher to her, a totally blank slate. She tried to find ways back to him, but the feelings just weren't there. He seemed – bland and a bit distant. He certainly wasn't appealing to her sexually, not at all. Part of her wondered if she had ever been happy with this man, he just seemed so dull and white bread in nature.
Despite all of her frustrations of dealing with her old life, the benefits of the accident were going to be interesting, to say the least. With all the physiotherapy she was going through, Elissa started becoming trim and fit and very limber. When she looked at pictures of herself from just a few years ago, she didn't recognize herself in them. Who was that frumpy, overweight, almost dingy-looking hausfrau she saw there? It certainly wasn't the 5'9" tall, 140 pound blonde stunner that looked back at her in the mirror. She knew she was 36, but she barely felt 26 and in most ways that counted, she didn't even feel that old.
She was feeling sexual and alive and creative again. Elissa remembered that she had done a lot of painting before marrying Doug and they thought that would help her with her recovery, so an easel and a palette, brushes and other supplies were brought to her. It amazed everyone to see the bold, vibrant paintings that sprung from her brushes. It was as if she had never lost her talent and the passion she felt for art was re-awakened.
It had been a trying year, her family was supportive, but they could only do so much. In some ways, they were virtual strangers to her. Through her art, she was able to express both her darkest nights and her brightest days and put them on canvass. Some days she overdid it and worked until near-exhaustion, but they never stopped her. Everyone at the home was highly supportive but none more so than Morgan.
Morgan stood by her through every grueling moment. She was there with kind words when Elissa felt as if life was crushing down on her. She was there with soothing massage when the pains would not cease. She pushed Elissa through each physiotherapy session with tough love and she was sometimes a companion when Elissa needed one the most.
Morgan rarely talked about herself outside of work. She didn't mention a husband or a boyfriend, which seemed odd to Elissa. Morgan, 2 inches taller than Elissa herself, was a stunning woman with coal-black hair that went halfway down her back. She had luminescent blue eyes, a terrific figure and the legs of a Las Vegas showgirl. When she smiled, which she did almost all of the time, it lit up the room. There was no man that could have resisted this perfect beauty, so why was she single? That question weighed heavily on Elissa's mind; she wanted to know about her beautiful friend. She hoped that Morgan wouldn't think it an intrusion into her private life, but she just had to ask.
Over lunch one afternoon, nearing the end of her stay at the convalescent home, she finally got up the courage to speak with Morgan about her social life. "I don't mean to pry," She told the sexy brunette. "I just wonder if you're happy outside of work, you never talk about a 'special someone' and I hope that there is some wonderful guy in your life," Elissa told her friend.
Morgan swallowed a mouthful of tea and shook her head. "No, there isn't," She confessed to Elissa. "There never has been." Elissa was about to speak when Morgan spoke again "That's because I don't date men. I date women exclusively," She smiled at Elissa.
"You're a lesbian?" Elissa said, absolutely floored by this revelation. "I never would have known, you're so feminine and flirty."
"I totally embrace my sexuality and I know I'm good looking and I don't mind being admired by either sex," Morgan smiled at her. "But to really turn me on, it has to be sex with a female. Not just any female either – I'm really choosy, she has to be at least as good looking as I am."
"That would be pretty hard," Elissa blurted out. "I mean – I've never met a woman who is as good looking as you," She told her friend.
"Oh, thank you darling," Morgan laughed. "I've always believed that women appreciate other women more then men do – we dress up so that other women will notice our outfits and compliment us on how we look. Men spend more time worrying about how to get them off of us," Morgan had laughed.
Elissa nodded, knowing that she loved wearing sexy, feminine things and as her body was shaping up, thrilled that she'd be able to buy them. She was planning to use some of the money the insurance company was paying out for her accident and putting it towards a new wardrobe. She'd have to, none of her "chubby" clothes fit her anymore and besides, she had a killer body again and wanted to show it off.
She told Morgan about her idea and her friend was fully supportive, as always. "I'm not being silly, am I?" She asked. "I don't have major visible scars and I'm comfortable in my own skin. I don't think that I look too bad for a woman of 36, do I?"
