Amnesiac

Chapter Four - Relationships

They sat on the stoop in front of Tim's apartment building. "My girlfriend would freak out if she knew I let you into my place," he said, staring at the parked cars across the street. "This is far enough. I'm not letting you into my apartment. We're just two strangers who met on the stoop."

Kate stared at the parked cars as well. "Is she... is it serious? Between you two?"

That got his attention. "The fuck do you care, Kate? The fuck do you care? You haven't called or spoken to me in a year, and now you show up at my fucking doorstep and you want to know if my girlfriend is serious about things? Yeah, how's this? She's way more serious about it than you were, apparently. She's not a fucking psycho, either. Does that answer your question? Why the fuck did you even come back here, Kate?"

She forced herself to look at him. "There was an accident. I had an accident, Tim. A few days ago I fell off of a ladder and now I can't remember anything since I lived on Grant Street. I'm just trying to piece things together. I'm sorry if I was horrible to you. That Kate... that Kate is dead, essentially."

"Well, fucking good. Stay dead. Stay far away from me, too."

"Tim, I... please. I promise that I'll go away and never come back. Ever. Ever never. I just need to plug these holes in my brain before I go nuts." Tears formed in her eyes. "Please."

Tim slapped his hand on the cold concrete, startling her. "Before you go nuts? Here's the deal. You want to play your sick games again? I'll humor you. La la la, late one night you showed up here, and you were—"

dressed in a tight red cocktail dress with shiny red three-inch heels. Tim opened his door to find her leaning on the opposite wall, licking her lips and giving him a sultry, sexy look. "Hey baby," she said, her voice low and throaty. "Have any plans for tonight?"

He stammered. He'd been planning to fuck Kate eventually, but the sight of her standing in his doorway, dressed like a runway model, clearly hot for his body, made his answer simple. "Not anymore, Kate. Come on in."

She walked into his apartment, wiggling her hips as she did so. He felt himself getting hard. She looked down at the bulge of his pants and grinned wickedly. "Oh," she said, "I think you do have some plans for tonight after all, Timmy. Some big plans, from the looks of it."

"Can I get you anything?"

She gave him a mocking, skeptical glance, then reached for her zipper. She slid out of the dress and stood before him in lacy red underwear, her breasts barely contained by the bra, her panties already soaking wet. "You can get me that big dick of yours, right now, inside my mouth," she said, sinking to her knees and reaching for his belt buckle.

Later, he was

"asleep. Two hours of some of the best sex I've ever had in my fucking life. I gave out long before you did. i figured that you'd finally gotten over your hangups and were ready to move on with your life, maybe start dating me, maybe at least start fucking me on the regular. But oh no, Jesus Kate, you couldn't do that. That's not why you were there, you... psycho."

Her jaw dropped. "Tim, whatever I did, I'm really sor—"

"You pulled a fucking gun on me, you sick fuck! You fucking stood there and—"

pointed the gun directly at his chest, her tongue seductively tracing her lips, her eyes cold and passionate and lifeless all at the same time. "How's this for a gun, Timmy? Not as big as yours. Same sticky mess when it goes off, though."

He tried to scream, tried to move. Nothing happened. His hands and feet and body just lay there on the bedsheets, helplessly. His throat produced nothing but a feeble croak.

"Restless, lover? No need to worry. Just a little drug I gave you to keep you nice and quiet for me. You should be able to move again in, oh, maybe four or five hours. Enough time for me to rob you blind and make this look like a burglary. If you're smart, that's exactly what you will tell the police. You'll find that I'm quite careful about not leaving evidence behind. Besides, I've got a very sleepy friend in my apartment right now who will swear on pain of death that she spent the entire night with me, watching old movies until dawn. Isn't this delicious? You'll have to string everyone along just like you've been stringing me along for the past six months, lying to their faces, telling them things that aren't true, making them believe things that you don't really mean."

"Or maybe..." she pointed the gun at him again, "maybe I won't leave behind any witnesses. Whaddya say, Tim? Care to try your luck at the old Russian... ohhhh wait, this isn't a revolver! Huh. It's either loaded or it's not, right? Oh well! Good luck, Timmy."

His eyes went wide as she pulled the trigger.

She stared at him. "You're a fucking, goddamn, liar. A fucking LIAR, Tim! Why would you make up some bullshit story about me like this? Why would you do this to me? I robbed you? I drugged you? I tried to KILL you? Are you fucking kidding me? Did you even go to the police? I don't remember being in jail, asshole."

"What, and have you come back and kill me for real? You knew I would take the easy way out, that's why you gave me the opportunity. You're a crazy nutjob, Kate. Do you know how long it took me to put that all behind me? Do you know how much therapy I had to go through? Do you know how long it took me to trust Melissa, or let her into my apartment? Why you're not allowed inside there ever again? Go to hell, Kate. Next time you show up here, I will shoot you dead. How's that for irony? Shoot. You. DEAD."

He stood up. "If you're still on this stoop by the time I get to my apartment window, I'm calling the cops." He turned around and stormed into the building, slamming the door behind him.

Somehow, she found the strength to move.

* * *

James walked into the front hall to greet his wife, but his smile vanished as soon as he laid eyes on her. "Hun? Holy shit, you're soaking wet. Where's your coat? Here, let me—"

Kate wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace, her wet clothes soaking into his dress shirt and slacks. A puddle formed on the floor. They both ignored it.

He kissed her on the cheek, gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Do you want to sit down?"

"Not right now."

"I'm just going to hold you, then. Is that okay?"

She paused. "Yes."

* * *

She made her way around the edge of the room, avoiding the sexy, fevered, sweaty crush on the dance floor. She could feel a dozen eyes staring at her neon-pink top and the generous swell of her boobs beneath it. Another dozen eyes were on her short leather miniskirt and her flat, athletic stomach. She shook her wild mane of auburn hair and scanned the room, looking for her target. Instead she made eye contact with a young man with a drink in his hand. He immediately took the opportunity to begin making his way over to her.

"Hallo," he slurred, pointing to the empty cup in her hand. "Kann ich lhnen noch etwas zu trinken holen?"

She gave him an icy stare. "Hände weg." From behind him, she could see her target sitting at the bar. Wordlessly, she held the plastic cup in front of her would-be lover and made a show of slowly crushing it in her fist. She pointed to his balls, nodded, and moved on. He didn't dare to follow her.

She slid onto a stool at the end of the bar and ordered a beer, making sure that she was only a foot or two from her target. The woman glanced in her direction, then continued to look. She returned the look with a winning smile, and eyes that invited further conversations.

The target took the bait. "Hi there," said the brunette. She had a lilting Irish accent that seemed oddly out of place in a backwater dive like Club Trabant. "I'm Alice. Can I get you a drink?"

"I've got one on the way. My name's Helen. Pleased to meet you." She held out her hand.

Alice waved her off. "Sorry, no handshakes for me. Don't fancy them. I suppose I'll never run for public office that way, will I? No offense, Helen."

Their drinks arrived at the same time. She held up her beer. "A toast, Alice?"

Alice smiled. "Cheers." Their glasses clinked together.

"What brings you to a place like this?" she asked, staring into Alice's glacial blue eyes. "You don't see many Irish girls around here."

"Oh, I'm quite a regular here, dearie. It seems like you're the new face in town, not me. So what's your story? Here on vacation? Perhaps with a boyfriend or girlfriend?" Alice winked and shot her an impish grin.

"Nope, it's jussssst me tonight. To be honest, I figured that tonight was a good night to cut loose and live a little for once. Get out, get drunk, and get laid, in that order. So far, two out of three." She leaned over and whispered into Alice's ear. "Would you like to go someplace a little more private?"

To her surprise, the Irish girl kissed her passionately, locking their lips together for what seemed like an eternity. Distantly, she could hear a surprised "oooh" from a nearby barstool, the bartender's laughter, the thump-thump of the dance music. Finally, Alice pulled away, and they both gasped for breath.

She blinked, still tasting the target's warm cinnamon-flavored lips on her own. "I'll take that as a yes?"

Alice smiled again. "Oh, that was my plan all along, dear Kate. To go a little someplace that's quite a bit more private, where we can talk all about what you can do for me."

The room began to spin. "Wait," she slurred. "M'name... Hel... Hellll...en... what's..."

The tall brunette helped her off of her stool and took her by the arm. "It's fine, dearie. You've had a little too much to drink. Let's get you home."

She was underwater. People were dancing at the bottom of a large swimming pool, and muddy music streamed in from somewhere above. She was dimly aware of her feet moving on their own, taking her someplace else, somewhere she hadn't been programmed to go. She felt her head roll back as another wave of dizziness engulfed her. Everything was warm, and bright, and dizzy. She closed her eyes, trying and failing to clear her head.

* * *

Kate opened her eyes.

The sun was pouring in from the window, and she let her inner cat take over as she stretched lazily and rolled onto the sunniest part of the bed. James was already up. From downstairs, she could just make out the sound of his voice. He was singing to himself.

This is nice

, she thought, hoping that her past self had spent every Saturday this comfortable and safe from the outside world. Comfortable and safe with James, her dutiful and loving husband, in the house they shared together.

Reluctantly, she climbed out of the warm bed and threw on a robe, padding down the stairs in her bare feet to the kitchen. As expected, James had breakfast and coffee waiting for her. She eagerly took both and sat on her usual stool. For once, he gave up on his kitchen chores and sat down beside her with a plate and a mug of his own.

"Hey, look at us, eating breakfast together! I think I like this new Kate," he said between bites of scrambled eggs. "Sorry I didn't wake you earlier. You looked like you were having a pretty crazy dream."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you do this thing when you're dreaming, your mouth makes this cute little shape and your eyes squish just a little, like this." He made a ridiculous face. "So I let you sleep in, because even if you don't remember it, I'm a sweet, loving and caring person."

She flicked a half-forkful of eggs in his direction. "I wish all of my memories could be like that. Jesus, James! Who am I? What am i?"

He finished his coffee. "You're my wife, you're beautiful, you're kind to animals, you're kinda so-so on the kid thing, you're good at business and you give the best blowjobs in town."

Another bit of eggs sailed towards him. "Oh? Did you read that in a Yelp review? Ten out of ten, would let her suck me off again? Seven out of ten, great but the line was too long?"

"You know... I... hey! We're both out of coffee! I'll just... yeah. You sure you don't want to fall down again and forget that part, too?" He smiled, and she couldn't help but smile in return.

"I just can't stop thinking about Tim," she finally said. "The things he said about me. The way he looked at me. He wasn't just angry with me, James. He was... he was

terrified

."

He set her mug on the counter. "Tim is full of shit, is what Tim is. You turned him down and he couldn't handle it, and when you show up telling him you have memory loss he takes advantage of you. Just to fuck with you. Tim's a dick."

She stifled a giggle. Her memories were still a mess, but she couldn't recall James ever swearing so freely in front of her. He hadn't during the past week, anyway, except for when they were arguing, and of course there were the X-rated things they breathlessly moaned to each other in bed. His anger at the strange man who had verbally scolded his wife, and his desire to defend her, was obvious.

"In fact," said James, as he refilled the coffee maker, "I remember that guy Tim. He came over here once, before we were dating, back when I had backyard barbecues every month. Do you remember those? That's how we first met. I knew Claire and she brought you along, and you brought that chump with you. And then I stole you from him. Whoops! Sorry, Tim. Not."

She rested her elbows on the counter and cradled her face in her hands. "Tell me about it, James. Tell me about the day we met."

His face lit up. "Really? Because you usually hate when I tell people the stor—oh, right. Sorry, hun. Okay. So... the—first—first time we met was at Finnigan's down on Taft Street, the Irish dive bar near the courthouse. There was a Super Bowl party and you were there, and I was all like "heeyyyyy, good looking."

She rolled her eyes. "You did NOT. We wouldn't be here having this conversation today if that had happened."

"No, no, I was saying that from like fifty feet away, silently, to myself, so that you'd never suspect what I huge dork I was. It worked! You didn't notice me at all! Michelle did, though, and we had a fight about it after I drove her home. That was the beginning of the end for me and Michelle. Whatever, I'm single, and it's getting to be fall, and football season is back again. So now I've forgotten about you and I have the hots for Claire. So—" he dodged the fork she threw at him— "

anyway

, I ask Claire to come to the party to watch the big Steelers game, and she asks if she can bring a friend with her. I said yes, but I was really crushed. I figured that she was going to bring a boyfriend."

Kate perked up. "Wait, I remember some of this! Claire told me about your BBQ and I asked Tim to come with me. Ugh. Sorry! Bad mistake."

He continued. "I'm supposed to be manning the grill, but it's my house and people are showing up, so I turn things over to Kwame and I head over to the front door to greet everyone. And then—"

She looked dazzling in her sundress, all smiles and rainbows, her green eyes bright and friendly. Tim was in a foul mood, and he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of Claire's ass, but she was determined not to let anything ruin an otherwise beautiful end to a great week. She finally asked Tim out on a real date (meh), Mac told her that the promotion was hers if she wanted it (yay) and the trip to—"

"Hi, I'm James. Nice to meet you."

He was holding his hand in front of her. She took it into hers as she looked at him. Tall, cute, a little goofy-looking, nice smile, took good care of himself. He was staring at her as if someone had just handed him the Mona Lisa.

"I'm Kate. Nice to meet you," she said, watching his eyes light up as she did so. She beamed. The new haircut and the sundress had been catching her compliments all day, but his reaction was probably the sweetest and most genuine of the bunch.

His smile dimmed a bit as he turned to greet Tim, who gave an even dimmer greeting in response. She laughed to herself. Well Mr. Grump, if you don't want me, I bet this guy here does. And Frank the bartender. And that guy who just moved in downstairs. Lots of fish in the sea, Tim.

She left her erstwhile date behind as she moved into the backyard, where the always-gorgeous Claire had already attracted a small crowd of hopeful men. She struck up a conversation with some soccer moms and fished a beer out of a cooler, letting her eyes take in the scene. Tim had joined the Claire group. From the grill, James spotted her and waved. She waved back, and smiled. It really was a great week.

She put down her coffee mug. "That's it? I was hoping that I'd forgotten the best parts, like me taking you upstairs and ripping your clothes off. We really just waved and made cute-eyes and small talk?"

"Mmm hmm. And I was completely head-over-heels in love with you. And then maybe a month later, you called, out of the blue, and asked if I wanted to go out for drinks. I said yes, obviously! You looked—"

"amazing," she said, staring into his eyes as they slow-danced through another song. She pulled him closer, feeling his erection press against her, putting her face just an inch away from his neck. She breathed in his scent, feeling his arousal, feeling her own. Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around his head and kissed him, hard and deep, until she couldn't breathe. He responded in kind, his hands squeezing her ass. Their lips met, and their tongues were soon exploring. She could feel his pulse quicken, his breath shorten. From behind them came a supportive "woo hoo, girl!" They stayed that way, locked in place, until the song ended.

"Take me home," she breathed. "Now. I want you so bad right now. Take me home. Spend the night. Don't let this end."

He responded with another world-shattering kiss, and her eyes fluttered like an old-time silent movie star. She gently pushed him away, and looked at him with lustful, hungry eyes.

"Take me home, James."

"All right, now we're getting to the good stuff! Tell me more. Did we even make it to my bed? Did we end up fucking on the welcome mat? Were there birds and heavenly trumpets and ladies fainting? Come on, spill."

He leaned in and surprised her with an unexpectedly passionate kiss. "Every time I'm with you, hun, there are birds and trumpets and fainting ladies. Usually they have the decency to look away. Not always. I do like it when they do the wave, though."

She scrunched her face and pulled away.

She pushed him onto the bed. She slowly undid her bra and let it fall to the floor, smiling as she watched him take in the sight of her wonderful, perfectly-shaped breasts. Her hands fell to her waist and she eased her panties down to her feet, wiggling her hips as she did so. She crawled onto the bed and slowly covered him, until they were looking into each others eyes. He guided his hard, erect cock into her as she gasped pleasantly. "Fuck, you're huge." She began to rock against him, enjoying the feel of him against her burning walls, taking in his scent, feeling his hands roam over her back. The world exploded in white-hot fireworks.

"You were amazing, Kate. You're always amazing. I memorized every inch of your body that night. Your curves, your scent, your perfume, that little mole on your right thigh, the way your damp hair felt in my hands, the way your skin looked under the moonlight, the sound of your laugh when we realized that the curtains were open. I never wanted to leave. That morning, Kate, I wanted to marry you right then and there. I still can't believe how lucky I am. When you called again the next day, I'll never forget that. You said those magic words—"

"I can't wait to see you again, James. Love you. Okay. Hee! Yes, you know it! Okay. Okay! Yes! Okay. Love you. Bye."

She ended the call and let the phone drop into her lap.