The next several hours were grueling for both Brenda and Jax, as Brenda became more and more ill. Jax debated several times about simply taking her to the hospital on Marathon Key, but Brenda begged him not to and he relented each time. He knew she feared Cordoba finding them, and it would be relatively easy for Cordoba to find her if she were treated at a hospital. And being admitted to a hospital this close to Cordoba’s home base would make them sitting ducks. But he still wondered if he was doing the right thing.
They’d quickly migrated from the couch in the main room to the bathroom, where she’d vomited several times until there was nothing left and then she was reduced to dry heaves for some time after that. They were now in the master bedroom, where Brenda lay exhausted on the king-size bed, her head on a pillow in Jax’s lap, as he sat on the bed with his back against the headboard, stroking her hair and simply staring at her.
The moonlight, streaming through the sliding glass doors that led to the deck outside, and the bathroom light, escaping past the open bathroom door, provided the only illumination in the room, but it was still enough light for Jax to study her face as she slept. He could see the toll this was taking on her physically. There were already dark shadows beneath her eyes and in the hollows of her cheeks, and her lips were pale and parched.
He reached over to the bedside table and picked up the lip balm she’d used earlier, and he gently applied some more. As he did so, he noticed a small smudge of dried toothpaste at the very corner of her mouth - a remnant from brushing her teeth after the last round of nausea and vomiting - and he gently rubbed it away. She moved slightly at his touch but she didn’t wake. He was grateful for that. He hoped she’d be able to sleep for an hour or so at least before her body woke her up again for another bruising round of dry heaves and the shakes.
The last round had been the worst thus far, and he hoped she’d finally hit rock bottom. He wasn’t sure how much more punishment her body could take. And he wasn’t sure how much more he could take, just watching helplessly as she suffered through this time. At one point in the night she’d told him that she’d been taking several Vicodin a day for pain every day since she’d come out of her coma, nearly a year ago, so this was a longstanding addiction, which meant the withdrawal would likely be long and painful. He sighed as he realized that probably meant she still had a long way to go before she hit bottom and things started to finally get better.
He wished he knew for sure what the progression was here. Despite the fact that this was not the first time she’d gone through withdrawal from Vicodin, it was the first time that he had actually watched or helped her through the process. The last time she’d kicked the habit, she’d opted to do it without his help and support. That time had been the beginning of the end for them. How ironic that this time now was just the beginning again for them.
He brushed the hair away from her face, gently pressing the back of his hand against her forehead. He was relieved that her forehead felt cool again, after hours of alternating fevers and chills. He reached down and pulled up the sheet a little further across her body to make sure she didn’t get chilled now. He also figured she’d appreciate not having her body exposed as it was now, although he was certainly enjoying the view of her tanned and well-toned legs and buttocks.
She’d shrugged out of both her sweatshirt and jeans a couple of hours before and was clad now in only panties and her tee shirt. Despite the embarrassment she’d shown back in the Bahamas when she’d merely mentioned having Ace wraps and realized that he knew where she must have used them, she’d had made no such show of modesty here when he’d helped her out of her clothes. Actually, she’d been too hot and too sick to care at that point, but he imagined she’d feel differently about the situation when she got to feeling better.
He only wished he could tell her that she had no need to feel embarrassed about being so skimpily clad in front of him because he’d seen her in far less on many, many occasions. But he knew that telling her that they were actually engaged and had at one point even been married was not an option for the moment. So, he’d simply have to allow her that moment of embarrassment and then try to ease it as best he could.
She whimpered slightly then, but, thankfully, remained asleep, and he wondered what was happening with her now? Was that simply a reaction to a bad dream or was she having physical pain? She’d told him earlier that it felt like every cell in her body was bursting, and he’d seen the agony on her face and in her body language earlier as she lay curled in a little ball on the middle of the bathroom floor, crying. It was at that moment that he’d realized just how difficult this was for her and it was then that he’d wanted to take her to the hospital immediately, but she’d pleaded with him to let her ride it out. So, against his better judgment, he’d simply sat there on the bathroom floor with her, rubbing her back while holding her and watching her struggle.
That had been several hours ago, and within that time he’d watched her sink even further into the depths of withdrawal, and he’d come progressively closer to spiriting her off for medical help with each regression. And, had her heart continued racing as it had been earlier, he would have ignored her pleas of no medical help and called 9-1-1 immediately, but that had slowed considerably over the past few hours and now was just slightly faster than normal. In fact, she seemed better all the way around now, but he knew that could easily change in the blink of an eye. And whatever happened, he had to be ready to help her through it.
He yawned and stretched his arms briefly, then immediately went back to stroking her hair and face. It had been so long since he’d been able to touch her like this that he was almost afraid not to have at least one hand on her at all times. Like she’d simply disappear again if he couldn’t feel her skin next to his. He’d dozed briefly, but both a combination of fear and excitement had awakened him: fear that something would happen to her while he was sleeping; and excitement that she was finally back with him and not just in his dreams. So, he was tired now, but he didn’t care. He’d give up sleep for the rest of his life if it would help Brenda to get through this and to come back to him, well and whole again.
His phone rang, and he quickly pulled it out of his pocket, noting the time on the bedside clock: 3:47 a.m. It has to be Chuck, he thought, as he flipped it open and answered it quietly: “Yes?” Brenda moved slightly then, but didn’t wake up. He knew he should probably take this in the other room, but he didn’t want to chance waking her up by moving her. Besides, after two years of being apart and thinking that he would never again be able to hold her or touch her like this, he selfishly didn’t want to have to move unless he absolutely had to.
“Were you asleep?” Chuck asked, as he glanced at his watch.
“Actually, I wasn’t,” Jax replied softly. “What’s going on?”
“I wouldn’t have called at this hour,” Chuck apologized, “but you said you wanted a progress report as soon as I left Port Charles for Kronos, and we took off about 30 minutes ago.”
“How’d it go?” Jax asked quietly.
“Smooth as clockwork,” Chuck replied. “Everyone called me ‘Mr. Jacks’, and the porter who helped me with the trunk wondered if I had an animal or something in it, after he felt how heavy it was and saw all the air holes.”
“And how did you respond to that?” Jax wondered, and he could feel Chuck’s grin as he answered.
“I told him it was a very rare and exotic creature that I planned to release in its new habitat on my private island in the Mediterranean,” Chuck chuckled.
“Geez, Chuck, you were supposed to be pretending to be me, not the Crocodile Hunter!” Jax laughed quietly, glancing down to make sure that Brenda was still sleeping. She was.
“Hey, you know you Aussies all look and sound alike to us Americans anyway,” Chuck teased. “At any rate, I left an impression on this guy, especially after I slipped him a fifty not to tell anyone about the trunk.”
“And do you think he’ll keep quiet?”
“Not a chance!” Chuck laughed. “I’m sure he was telling his buddies before the jet had even begun taxiing down the runway.”
“That’s good,” Jax smiled. “Now, let’s just hope that Cordoba has the sense to check out Dade County airport, then follow the trail from there to PC, and then get wind of that little tidbit of information and jump to the logical conclusion.”
“Well, taking Brenda to Kronos would seem the logical choice for you in order to keep her safe from him,” Chuck replied. “Good thing the man doesn’t know that Jasper Jacks does most of his thinking outside the box,” he added, admiration in his tone.
Jax just chuckled softly, but said nothing.
“So, how are things on your end?” Chuck asked then. “Since you’re whispering, do I take it that you two are already sharing sleeping accommodations?” he asked hopefully.
“We’re in the same room and in the same bed, but there’s nothing romantic about it,” Jax sighed. “… She got hooked on Vicodin again after her accident, and she’s going through withdrawal now, so she’s pretty sick…”
“I’m sorry,” Chuck sympathized. “I’ve had a couple of friends who got hooked on that stuff - withdrawal was pretty rough. How’s she holding up?”
Jax took a deep breath and sighed, “I guess as well as can be expected, under the circumstances. I’m hoping she’s through the worst of it, but I have a feeling she’s not. But her body temperature is stable for the moment, and she’s actually been sleeping for almost an hour, which is the most she’s gotten since we got here.”
“You made it to Tim’s place, then?”
“Yeah - it’s a great place, by the way… We got here about 8:30 last night - and just in the nick of time,” Jax replied. “She started getting really sick almost as soon as we arrived… In fact, most of our stuff is still stacked by the front door, where I dropped it when I unlocked the place.”
“It has been a rough night,” Chuck acknowledged. “Have you had a chance to eat anything or gotten any sleep at all?”
“Yeah, we stopped in Miami and grabbed a quick bite to eat - Well, at least I ate. She mainly picked at her food,” Jax clarified. “Now I understand why… As for sleep, I’ve dozed on and off while she’s been resting. I figure there will be lots of time for me to catch up on my sleep once she’s better.”
“Has she remembered anything about the two of you?” Chuck asked.
“Nothing that I know of,” Jax answered. “But she keeps looking at me like she’s on the verge of remembering, but she can’t quite seem to grasp ahold of it just yet.”
“Give it time, pal, and she’ll begin to remember,” Chuck assured him. “After she’s past the worst of withdrawal and she starts to get her strength back, she’ll have time to concentrate on things other than how horrible she feels.”
“I know,” Jax replied, once again stroking Brenda’s hair as he spoke. “I just want her to remember as soon as possible.” He paused for a moment, then he added: “That’s why I called and asked Dr. Weston to join us here.”
Chuck was silent for several seconds, then he hesitantly asked: “Dr. Beth Weston?”
“Yeah… Why?”
Chuck cleared his throat. “Are you sure Dr. Weston is the best choice for this? I mean, what about Dr. Collins, there in Port Charles?”
Jax was surprised that Chuck was taking such an interest in what psychiatrist he chose to help Brenda remember her past. “I didn’t want Dr. Collins because he is from Port Charles and he knows and has worked with Brenda before. I didn’t want Cordoba to be able to possibly find Brenda through him. I know Beth, and I trust that she’ll be able to help Brenda.”
“Okay, I see your point about Dr. Collins,” Chuck conceded, “but there still have to be other doctors out there, besides Dr. Weston, that you know and trust.”
“True, but Beth has done extensive research into memory recovery. She even had a paper published in a prominent psychiatric journal a few years back,” Jax pointed out. When there was nothing but silence from Chuck then, Jax finally asked: “What’s your point, Chuck? Why don’t you think it was a good idea for me to ask Beth to help Brenda?”
Chuck took a deep breath and sighed, as he realized he was in too deep to simply back out now. “Jax, you were involved with that woman a few years ago…”
“No, we dated a couple of times. That’s all,” Jax corrected him. “It was nothing serious.”
“Well, it may not have been serious for you, but you could see ‘forever after’ in her eyes, Jax,” Chuck argued. “Why didn’t you pick up on that? Hell, I was just your pilot, and I could see that she was ready to pick out china patterns and start shopping for ‘His’ and ‘Hers’ towels!”
“What?” Jax was incredulous. First his dad and now Chuck. Why did they both seem to think there was more between him and Beth than there was? “No. Beth and I were never more than good friends… I never even hinted at anything more than that. We had a few casual dates and some good times - that’s all,” Jax defended himself. “We never even went past a friendly goodnight kiss.”
“Like I said, it may not have been serious for you, pal, but she was certainly hoping for more,” Chuck declared resolutely.
Jax just shook his head. “Well, that was a long time ago… before I even met Brenda. Beth and I both moved on long ago. Besides, she’s a professional. She would never let what she may or may not have felt for me years ago color her attitude toward Brenda now.”
“I hope you’re right,” Chuck replied. “But I still think you need to watch your back with Dr. Weston around - or maybe I should say watch Brenda’s back,” Chuck warned.
“Brenda will always be my number one concern and priority,” Jax bristled.
“Hey, I know how important Brenda is to you. I’m the one who’s been with you every step of the way this past week, Jax,” Chuck retorted. “I just want you to keep your radar turned on around Dr. Weston, that’s all… You have a tendency to be too trusting of people you know and like - especially women.” When he heard Jax start to protest, he quickly added: “Remember Miranda?”
“I was young then,” Jax pointed out.
“I don’t mean when you stupidly married her after knowing her less than a week,” Chuck clarified. “You were 19 then and blinded by lust. I meant when she showed back up just a few years ago, when you and Brenda were already together… You trusted Miranda blindly, despite the fact that everyone - Brenda included - knew she had ulterior motives… I’m just saying that you can’t let yourself be blind with Beth the way you were with Miranda.”
Jax sighed wearily, “Point taken. I’ll keep my eyes open while Beth is here, but I really think she’ll be the consummate professional.”
“I hope you’re right,” Chuck replied. He paused briefly then said: “Well, you sound dead to the world, so I’m gonna hang up now… I hope Brenda’s through the worst of this, but even if she isn’t, just hang in there. Fate played a big hand in bringing you two back together, and I can’t imagine it was for just a short run. I think you two are meant to have many happy years together.”
“Thanks, Chuck,” Jax smiled. “I hope you’re right… I’ll talk to you later.” He closed the phone, turned off the ringer, then laid it on the bedside table beside the clock and Brenda’s lip balm. Chuck had given him a lot to think about, especially since Jax had used the unspoken promise of sex to lure Beth there. Had she seen more in their relationship all those years ago, as Chuck had claimed? And if so, had she accepted his invitation expecting more than he would ever have offered, even if Brenda was nowhere in the picture?
He shook his head, as he realized he was far too tired to think about any of that now. It was early Saturday morning, and Beth wouldn’t be arriving until late Monday afternoon. If Chuck’s assumption of her was true and she did have designs on him at one time, he’d have plenty of time between now and then to analyze his past relationship with Beth and strategize how to best to deal with her. But for right now, while Brenda was still sleeping, he needed to get some sleep, too. Otherwise, he’d be in no shape to help Brenda once she did wake up. And helping Brenda was all he planned to do for the next several weeks.
The caravan carrying Armand Cordoba and his cache of weapons finally rolled into the Angolan rebel camp at 9:47 a.m. local time, 3:47 a.m. EST - almost 27 hours after he’d begun the journey back home in the Bahamas - and several hours behind schedule. Then it took another two hours to conclude the transaction, and by the time the rebels had unloaded their weapons and Armand had his diamonds and was back on the road for the return trip to Luanda, he was dusty, tired, short-tempered, and just short of crazed. One setback after another had bedeviled him on this trip, and he had never been so glad to be headed home, as he was now. If he hadn’t already planned to give up this profession before, this trip would have certainly been the clincher!
They’d been back on the road for several hours now and were less than 30 km from Luanda. Armand had slept off and on for the past couple of hours, but, between the rough road and that dream again, he didn’t feel rested in the least. He supposed that if he’d been able to call back home to speak with Veronica or one of his staff that he would have been able to relax, but his satellite phone was still not working. He’d tried to use the rebels’ satellite phone but theirs wasn’t working either. One of his men had said that he’d read that sunspots and solar flares were at a peak over the next few days and that would interfere with satellite transmissions for several hours at a time. But that was behind him now, as he knew that his cell phone would once again be of use once they were within 15 km of Luanda.
Only a few more minutes and he could call home to his sweet Veronica…
He had planned to go straight to Antwerp from Luanda, but he hadn’t been able to check on Veronica and he felt uneasy. Normally he wouldn’t have been so concerned, but his instincts told him that all was not well back on the home front - and that damn dream kept playing over and over in his head to continuously feed those growing fears. He longed to check into a luxury hotel in Luanda and have a hot meal, an even hotter shower, and a decent night’s sleep before doing anything else, but all of that hinged on that phone call he hoped to make in the next few minutes. Then he’d decide if he was heading to that hotel and then to Antwerp in the morning, as he’d originally planned, or if he was heading back home to be with Veronica.
As Armand watched the passing scenery outside, the dry, desolate countryside slowly began to give way to more and more touches of green and the occasional hint of modern technology, until the faint outline of the city of Luanda finally appeared on the horizon. He pulled out his cell phone to check to see if he had a signal when it rang. Knowing it was likely someone from home, he flipped it open immediately and answered excitedly: “Cordoba here!”
“Mr. Cordoba, this is Detwiler…” a voice, that Armand recognized as that of his head of security, intoned. “Sir, I’m afraid we have a problem…” Detwiler added hesitantly.
Armand’s heart caught in his throat as the feelings of anxiety and helplessness from his dream came flooding back to him again in full force. “What kind of problem?” Armand asked, with as much control as he could muster at that moment.
But his control, as well as his world, fell apart at his security chief’s answer: “It’s Ms. Devereaux, sir - She’s disappeared …”
Despite the fact that he was sharing living quarters with three strangers and his bed was nothing more than a slab of metal with a thin foam mattress on top of it, Kirby Johnson slept surprisingly well that night. He’d had no trouble getting hired immediately to crew on the Norwegian-based Royal Island Queen cruise ship, working as a porter for the duration, transporting luggage and packages for guests and crew alike. It was harder work than he was used to, but he didn’t mind because he knew it was only temporary. This job was merely a means to an end - a way off the islands and back to the States as easily and as inconspicuously as possible.
He’d had to show a passport when he’d signed his work papers, but, having grown up in a gang in Detroit where it was smart to have more than one alias, he’d always carried a spare form of ID bearing a pseudonym, just in case he needed anonymity. That habit had come in particularly handy last night. The fake passport, showing that he was Ken Brown of Cleveland, Ohio, wasn’t the best forgery around, but it had been enough to fool the purser, who was trying desperately to fill several crew vacancies before the ship left port. He’d merely glanced at the passport photo and up at Kirby, making sure they were the same person, then handed Kirby his paperwork and his work assignment, then told him where to go to pick up his uniform and his bedding and where to find his bunk.
Despite the late hour, he was put to work immediately unloading additional food and other supplies for the remainder of the cruise, which still had three days to go before it returned to Miami. He would have preferred a quicker and more direct passage to the States, but the airlines scrutinized IDs more carefully than the harried purser of an undermanned cruise ship did, so he’d felt this was the safer choice to escape the Bahamas. Besides, he’d decided he could use these extra days of relative anonymity here on the ship to plan out the rest of his life - now that he was sure that he’d actually have a life.
This trip might be hard work for him, but it was far better than the alternative - having to face Armand Cordoba with the news that his fiancée had managed to slip away while on Kirby’s watch. He was certain that Mr. Cordoba would take out his anger on him and hold him wholly responsible for everything - including the fact that she was able to steal that money from Cordoba’s locked desk to help her once she made her escape. And he had no doubt that, whether or not Cordoba was able to locate Ms. Devereaux and get her back, Cordoba would never forgive Kirby for allowing her to slip away as she had. He’d been derelict at his post and that was a capital offense as far as Cordoba was concerned.
One way or another, his head would have rolled had he stuck around. This way his head stayed firmly attached to his shoulders. He had taken control of things, and he was assured of a future, even if it meant living as someone else for the rest of his life.
Unfortunately for Kirby, there were far too many other things over which he had no control, and it would be those things that could ultimately bring him down.
Just as Kirby had known, the police had gone over that tote bag with a fine tooth comb and quickly discovered his fingerprints all over it. They’d found the personal effects inside the bag, noting the hair and the scissors, which the police correctly theorized had been used to cut her hair to make her less recognizable. They’d also learned that a sizeable amount of cash had been taken from Armand Cordoba’s locked desk drawer the previous night, but, unlike Kirby had figured, the police didn’t view the contents of the bag or see the missing cash as conclusive evidence that Veronica Devereaux had planned and staged her own disappearance.
In fact, they’d added in a few more interesting facts that they had recently learned, including the fact that Kirby Johnson had been Veronica Devereaux’s sole bodyguard that day and the fact that he’d cleaned out his bank account just hours after Ms. Devereaux’s disappearance and was now also missing, and they’d come to a startlingly different conclusion than Kirby had foreseen: that Veronica Devereaux had indeed been kidnapped - and that Kirby Johnson was the man behind that kidnapping.
So, as the Royal Island Queen glided silently across the open waters of the Atlantic toward the Virgin Islands that night, Kirby Johnson, known to his shipmates as Ken Brown, slept soundly, blissfully unaware of the fact that a warrant for his arrest for both grand theft and kidnapping had been issued just hours before and that flyers with his picture and description were already blanketing the streets of the Bahamas and being faxed to all the airlines and cruise lines that served the area…
It was early Sunday morning, nearly 36 hours since she’d begun her rapid downward spiral, before Brenda began to finally come out of that dark abyss. She still ached all over, but it was not the gut-wrenching ache that it had been for so long, and she was actually beginning to feel a slight twinge of hunger, after hours of nausea and retching at the mere thought of food. In fact, it was that twinge of hunger that had pulled her out of the stuporous haze of sleep in which she’d been for the past several hours.
She felt confused as she slowly opened her eyes to find herself in the middle of an unfamiliar bed in an equally unfamiliar room. The room was dark, except for the sliver of sunlight escaping through a crack between the floor-to-ceiling drawn drapes across the room. It must be morning, she thought, as she fought desperately to remember what had happened to her.
She could hear water running nearby - a shower, she thought - and she focused her eyes in that direction, as she tried to piece together where she was and who could be in that shower. She looked up to see that the door to the bathroom was open, just as the shower shut off and someone stepped out, which brought back in vivid detail who was there with her - It was Jax, and he was completely nude!
She gasped as she averted her eyes, though not as quickly as she should have.
“You’re awake,” she heard him say, and she could tell he was getting closer from the sound of his voice, but she was afraid to look up at him, as she was suddenly embarrassed because that inadvertent glimpse of him au naturel had been infinitely enjoyable for her. The man was definitely gorgeous all over!
Jax saw her face was flushed and was at her side in an instant. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, concerned that her red face meant her temperature was back to fluctuating wildly, despite having been stable for the past 24 hours. He sat beside her on the bed and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. She felt a little warm, but not unnaturally so. It was then that he noticed that she was looking everywhere but at him, and he realized that she’d evidently caught a glimpse of him before he’d wrapped the towel around himself and now she was embarrassed. He should have thought to shut the bathroom door! He still considered her his fiancée, but she still saw him as someone she’d just met.
“No… I… uh… I think I’m better,” she stammered, still unable to make eye contact with Jax, although she had looked at him enough to see that he was at least wearing a towel now.
“That’s good - I mean, I thought you were better. Otherwise, I would never have left you alone like that for so long,” Jax explained. “I left the door open a little, though, just in case - so I could hear you if you needed anything,” he added, in case she’d wondered why he hadn’t shut the door.
“Ummm… Yeah, well… ummm… I’m fine, I think… I still ache all over and I’m kinda shaky, but I’ll be okay,” she replied, still flustered by what she’d just seen and the fact that he was sitting on the bed with her now, wearing only a towel. She’d never felt anything like this before for Armand - or any other man, for that matter. Only the man in her dreams had ever made her feel this incredible fire inside of her - before Jax, that was. She had to find a way to distance herself from him - and fast. She had no idea if it was just him or the residual effects of withdrawal - or an unholy combination of both - but she felt dizzy and tingly all over at the moment and she wanted desperately for that to stop.
She moved away from him and toward the edge of the bed to get up, but when she did, the sheet slid away and she discovered she was clad only in her tee shirt and panties. She grabbed the sheet and quickly pulled it back up to cover herself. “Where are my jeans?” she gasped.
“They’re over there,” Jax replied, pointing to the large overstuffed chair by the window on which he’d placed her jeans and sweatshirt this morning. Up until a few minutes ago when he’d gone in to take his shower, they’d lain in the middle of the bathroom floor, where she’d dropped them Friday night when she’d taken them off. He saw the puzzled look on her face, and he knew she was wondering how her clothes had come off and who had taken them off. “You took them off because you were too hot,” he explained.
She nodded, but said nothing; the look of confusion remained on her face because she had no recollection of any of that.
“You probably don’t remember much,” Jax pointed out. “You were pretty sick.”
She nodded. That was one of the few things she did remember - how incredibly awful she’d felt all night. “I remember bits and pieces, but most of it’s still pretty hazy… I do remember, though, that you were there for me the whole time…” she said, as she looked up at him and smiled shyly, her voice soft and sincere. “I don’t remember ever feeling more frightened in my life as I did last night - and that includes when I woke up from my coma and had no idea who I was… Yet, at the same time, I never remember feeling safer or more comforted than I did last night either, and that was because of you… You promised me you’d see me through it, and you did… Thank you for that…”
He smiled warmly at her as he thought of all the things he wanted to say to that. He wanted to tell her that he would gladly go to the very bowels of Hell to bring her back to him because he loved her, but instead he simply replied: “I was glad I could help.”
“Yeah, well… it was way beyond what most people would have done,” she smiled, relaxing now. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel so comfortable, despite the intimate setting and their mutual state of undress. “I really can’t thank you enough… for everything… Helping me escape… Taking care of me from the very start… You’ve been like this guardian angel to me… Where I come from - at least the only world I can remember - no one puts himself out for anyone else without expecting something big in return. Yet, you’ve unselfishly been there for me from the beginning… Why is that?”
Because you’re my life… Because I went through hell while you were gone and I can’t face another day without you… Because I love you… his heart cried, but instead he merely shrugged and grinned as he said: “Guess I’m just a nice guy.”
She was about to agree with him when she caught sight of the time on the bedside clock, which read: 7:57 a.m. “Is that right?” she asked. When he nodded, she exclaimed: “The last thing I clearly remember was waking up in the car and seeing 8:42 p.m. on the dashboard clock. I can’t believe I lost nearly 12 hours!”
“36 hours,” Jax corrected.
She looked back up at Jax. The shock on her face at that information was unmistakable. “36 hours?!” she asked incredulously.
Jax nodded. “Yeah, it’s Sunday morning, not Saturday… Like I said, you were pretty sick… There were several times - especially late Friday night and into the early hours of Saturday morning - when I wanted to take you to the emergency room, but you begged me not to, so I gave in every time. But I was so afraid I’d made the wrong decision and I was going to lose you…” he added quietly, his voice plaintive.
She could hear the fear in his voice and see it in his eyes as he said that, and it puzzled her. It was like she really mattered to him - not just like a nice guy would worry about the life of another human being, but like she was special to him. How could that be?
… It couldn’t be, logic told her. You’re reading more into this than he intends. You’re having feelings toward him because he has literally saved your life - not once, but twice now. But he doesn’t share those same feelings toward you. It’s like he told you - he’s just a nice guy.
She sighed then, realizing that had to be the situation here. For whatever reason, she was beginning to have feelings for Jax. But he wasn’t having those same feelings in return for her. And it was just as well because he already had someone - Julia’s sister, who might be joining him here very shortly. And she had someone out there somewhere who loved her, too - she was sure of it. All she needed to do was find him. But that meant finding out who she was first - and ignoring these growing feelings for Jax.
But first, she just wanted to get cleaned up. “Are you finished in the bathroom? … Or is there another bathroom that I can use?” she asked suddenly. “I’d like to get cleaned up.”
“This is the only bathroom, but I’m done in there,” he answered, then, when she seemed to be giving him a questioning look, he glanced down to see that he was still clad in only a towel. “Oh, I forgot that I wasn’t dressed yet - but my clothes are in here, so the bathroom’s all yours.”
“Thanks,” she nodded, then, pulling the sheet off the bed and wrapping it discreetly around her, she slowly moved to the edge of the bed to stand.
Jax watched as she shakily stood on her own, ready to catch her if need be, but she appeared okay at this point, although she was still holding onto the edge of the bed. “How’s the ankle?” he asked.
“The ankle?” She looked down at her bruised and still slightly swollen ankle and gave an ironic laugh. “Either it’s better or the pain from it simply doesn’t register after the night I just had… I guess, like everything else, pain is relative, isn’t it?” she shrugged, as she slowly settled her weight onto her ankle. It was still sore, but not unbearably so. “I won’t be running any marathons any time soon, but I think I can manage to put my weight on it today,” she replied.
“Well, you won’t need to be putting any weight on it until it’s completely healed,” he answered. “I bought some crutches for you.”
“You did?” she asked, clearly surprised by that. “When?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “when I stopped at that store - right after we left the restaurant the other night… You don’t you remember any of that, do you?”
She closed her eyes and crinkled her nose as she thought back to the events of the other night. “Okay,” she nodded, “I remember you stopping there and asking me if I wanted to go in, but I don’t remember much of anything after that… until I woke up in the car and we were already here.”
“Not surprising that you can’t remember that - you had a fever when I came out of the store,” Jax said, as he stood and walked to the other side of the room where, earlier that morning, he’d stacked their bags and the things he’d gotten from the store. He picked up the crutches and walked back over to her, pausing just long enough to open the drapes as he passed by them to reveal that they covered sliding glass doors that opened to an outside deck. “Here,” he said, as he handed the crutches to her. “I already adjusted them to your height, so I think you’re all set to go.”
“Thanks,” she smiled, as she took the crutches from him, then tried to figure a way to use them, while keeping the sheet wrapped around her.
“Ummm… I think you’re going to have to lose the sheet, otherwise you’ll probably trip yourself,” Jax pointed out. He saw her hesitate, so he added, “Listen, if it’ll make you feel more comfortable, I can turn my back - or leave the room, for that matter. I promise not to look.” Of course, it really didn’t matter, since she’d been without most of her clothes for over a day already and he’d carried her to the bathroom and back to the bed countless times, and watched her as she knelt by the toilet dressed like that more times than he could count. But he wasn’t about to point that out to her.
She thought a moment, then shook her head. “You know, this is really stupid - I obviously didn’t get back and forth on my own to the bathroom in the past day-and-a-half, which means you either carried me or helped me, but either way you saw me like this. So, it’s no big deal,” she said, dropping the sheet and taking her first shaky steps with the crutches toward the bathroom.
Jax watched after her as she took several steps toward the bathroom, enjoying the view from his angle, as her tee shirt moved up and down teasingly across her buttocks with each step she took. “Will you need any help getting in the shower?” he called after her, his tone teasing. “After all, you saw me naked… Turnabout’s fair play, isn’t it?”
She stopped dead in her tracks then and turned around to look at him to find him grinning wickedly at her. She felt embarrassed that he knew that she’d seen him naked, but that didn’t bother her as much as the way he was looking at her right now and the way his look made her feel - like she was going to melt inside. It was the same feeling she always felt with the man in her dreams. Armand had given her that same look nearly every time he’d looked at her. In fact, most men looked at her like that at one time or another, but no flesh-and-blood man before Jax had ever made her feel this molten fire deep inside with that look.. She felt desired, and, despite how tired she was, she wanted to give into that desire.
Or maybe it was just still the effects of withdrawal…
And maybe he wasn’t flirting as much as he was teasing her, knowing how embarrassed she’d been about seeing him completely nude and letting him see her less than dressed, as she was now. That had to be it, she decided. After all, a man who could have such love in his eyes and his voice when talking about the woman he loved would never even think of another woman with that kind of desire in his eyes.
So she simply shook her head as she answered coolly, “I think I can manage,” then continued on to the bathroom, hoping that would be the end of any conversation between them for the moment. But just as she got to the bathroom, she realized she didn’t have any clean clothes to put on once she washed up. Embarrassed, she turned around to see that he was still smiling at her, but it was a happy smile now, not a sensual one.
Why on earth did he seem so happy right now? It made no sense whatsoever to her.
You’re simply misreading him again, logic told her. Your instincts aren’t as sharp as usual. You’re still sick - and he’s still a stranger who’s very much in love with another woman. Ignore what you’re feeling and what you think he’s feeling because it’s wrong, and you know it.
“Did you forget something?” he asked, that silly smile still on his face. He couldn’t help smiling at her. Just weeks ago he’d believed she was dead, but then he’d seen that picture in the newspaper. And just days ago he’d wondered if he was simply chasing after an illusion - someone who simply looked like Brenda. But then he’d found her, and it was Brenda. Then, just hours ago, when she’d been so unbelievably sick, he’d wondered if he’d finally found her only to lose her to death for certain this time. But now… Now she was alive and on the mend. They were finally together again - perhaps not in the sense that they were before the accident, but they were together, nonetheless. And after more than two years of being apart, he was happy just to be able to be in the same room with her and look at her like this.
Why is he smiling? she continued to wonder, but aloud she simply said: “I don’t have anything to put on… after I get cleaned up, I mean.”
“Oh - sorry!” he said, going back to the bags in the corner and grabbing several of them in his arms. “When I got your crutches, I also picked up a few other things for you- clothes, shoes, toiletries…” he said, as he walked toward her with the bags. “Here, I’ll just put them in the bathroom and you can see what there is,” he added, as he walked around her and set the bags on the large vanity in the roomy bathroom. “Your toothbrush and the toothpaste are there,” he said, pointing to them on the vanity by the sink. “You’ve used them quite a few times in the past several hours.”
She slowly made her way into the bathroom. “I have?” she asked, not remembering any of that.
“Yeah,” Jax nodded. “Like I said… you’ve been pretty sick and pretty out of it…” He stared at her for several seconds, remembering how truly ill she had been and how afraid he’d been that she would die. She still looked pale and drawn, but she was alive and walking. She appeared uncomfortable at his intense gaze, so he looked back at one of the bags on the counter. “Ummm… I also bought you an assortment of shampoos and conditioners,” he went on, as he handed her the bag, “as well as different body lotions and grooming supplies… I know how you like to primp.” Jax noticed Brenda’s questioning look at that comment, so he quickly added: “I mean, I know how most women like to primp…”
She nodded. “This was so thoughtful of you,” she said, as she pulled out one of the body lotions and opened the bottle and smelled it. “Mmmm… jasmine… I love jasmine,” she smiled, recapping the bottle and setting it onto the sink next to the toothpaste and her toothbrush.
“I know,” he smiled. When he saw her throw him another questioning look, he once again quickly added: “I mean, I know I do - like jasmine - on a woman, that is… which is why I got it for you,” he stammered.
That seemed to satisfy her. “And you bought clothes, too?” she asked, looking into yet another bag.
He nodded, smiling as she eagerly looked through that bag. “The selection was limited and I was hurrying to get back to you, but I tried to pick up some things for you to wear for a couple of days, at least. Ummm… and maybe we can both go shopping at some of the stores here in the Keys later, when you’re feeling better…”
She smiled up at him. “You are such a sweet man, Jax… I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you… for everything… I have money, of course, and I want you to take whatever you need to cover these clothes and everything else you’ve gotten me and done for me since we… ummm… met… But I know money can never cover the most important things you’ve given me - your kindness and your understanding… I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for that… But I want you to know that for as long as I live, I will never forget you or what you’ve done for me,” she smiled, tears in her eyes as she reached up and cupped his face with her hand.
Then, surprising both herself and Jax, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. She suddenly felt unbelievably embarrassed that she’d been so bold as that. Yet, there was something so familiar and right about that, just like everything else with Jax felt so familiar and right to her. But still, she should never have kissed him, especially since that kiss seemed to spark something deeper in her - something she’d only ever felt before in her dreams. She quickly covered her embarrassment by saying, “I… ummm… should probably get my shower now…”
Jax, on the other hand, was thrilled by her spontaneous show of affection toward him. So much so, in fact, that it stimulated every part of his body, which soon became very evident, since he was still clad only in a towel. And since she still had no idea who he really was or their true relationship, he was afraid his enthusiastic response to her spontaneous show of affection might confuse or even frighten her, so he grabbed for his travel grooming kit from off the sink and placed it strategically in front of him, hoping she hadn’t noticed.
She hadn’t.
But she had noticed that he seemed flustered by her kiss - and speechless as well. Now she felt even more foolish because she’d evidently put him in an uncomfortable position by being so forward. She’d only meant it as a thank-you kiss - (Hadn’t she?) - but he’d mistaken it for something more. She sighed; he was so firmly committed to the woman he loved that even an innocent peck on the cheek from another woman felt wrong to him.
And she’d been wrong to give it to him.
Yet, why did it feel so right?
And so wonderful?
She watched as Jax quickly turned and headed out of the bathroom and away from her. “Yeah, well… I’ll just… ummm… go get dressed,” he stammered, as he made his way to the bed and sat down, discreetly covering himself with the sheet Brenda had dropped earlier.
She stared at him for several seconds, wishing she could take back her kiss and clear up this awkwardness between them. Why on earth did I kiss him? she wondered. Now I’ve just made things uncomfortable between us. She sighed and moved to close the bathroom, door when she heard him call after her.
“Do you feel up to eating anything? I can fix us some breakfast…” he smiled, wishing he could tell her what he really wanted to do for her and to her at that moment.
“Maybe some tea and toast,” she answered quietly, keeping the door nearly in front of her and her eyes cast downward as she spoke, afraid to meet his gaze; afraid she’d see pity and disgust for her there in his eyes.
But had she looked up she would have only seen pure happiness and his love for her shining in his eyes at that moment. She’d kissed him. It may have only been a brief peck on the cheek meant as a thank-you for helping her, but it was a kiss nonetheless. It was the first time her lips had touched his skin in over two, very long years. The last 36 hours may have been a shared hell for them, but it had brought them closer to heaven in the end. In fact, it had made her feel close enough to him now that she’d just kissed him, and he was ecstatic about that.
He watched as she closed the door, then heard the faint click of the lock as she secured it, which quickly brought him back to earth. The reality of the situation was that, despite the fact that she’d just spontaneously kissed him and they’d just gone through a life-altering struggle together over the past several hours, she still saw him as a stranger - a friendly stranger, perhaps, but a stranger nevertheless.
He sighed and leaned back on the bed, staring at the locked door that separated him from the woman he loved, as he reflected on the events of the past couple of days. It had been a tumultuous 48 hours since he’d first laid eyes on her there in Nassau’s famed Straw Market. In that time she’d disappeared from the market, only to reappear in his car and force him at gunpoint to help her get away. He’d discovered who she was, only to realize that she had no idea who she was or who he was either. Then, he’d agonized over how he was going to convince her to leave the Bahamas with him, only to have her beg him to help her leave.
Then there had been the plane ride where she’d first became sick, then his assumption that she was pregnant, followed by the painful truth of the past 36 hours - she was going through withdrawal from pain medication. And he knew that, despite the fact that the worst of the ordeal of withdrawal was likely behind them, her body still was not completely free of the accumulative effects of the powerful pain reliever that she’d taken for so long.
He wondered how much longer before she was completely through all of this and what more he could do to help her now? He supposed he could call Beth and ask her, since she was a doctor and would know about these things, but he didn’t want to let her know about Brenda until she actually arrived here tomorrow. That would minimize the risk that she might inadvertently let Brenda’s name slip to someone in LA or on her way here.
Last evening while Brenda had slept on the bed beside him, he’d made the arrangements for Beth Weston’s trip here. He’d decided against booking her on a commercial flight, since she would have to either grab a puddle jumper in Miami to take her to the Marathon Key airport or she would have had to drive for two hours to get from Miami to here. Besides, having her fly commercial was more public than he wanted, so he’d arranged for a private jet to bring her straight to Marathon Key, then he’d rented a sportscar for her to drive the short distance from Marathon to Big Pine Key. He knew how much Beth loved the perks of having money, like flying in private jets and driving fancy cars, so he was sure this would please her and perhaps soften the blow when he finally told her that he’d indeed been serious when he’d told her he needed her professional services.
His thoughts drifted then to the warnings both his father and Chuck had given him about Beth and her feelings for him, and a part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just call her and cancel, telling her that some important business matter had suddenly come up and he needed to cancel. That way there would be no rekindling of any old feelings on her part - that was, if there were even any old feelings to rekindle. There were certainly none on his part!
But another part of him - the stronger part - believed that Beth could really help Brenda recover her memory quickly. After all, she’d done research into this, and she’d helped people like Brenda before. Besides, using Beth over Kevin Collins also meant less possibility that Cordoba could find out where they were and what they were doing until long after Brenda finally remembered that she was Brenda.
If she remembered…
No, she’d remember. He was sure of it. He could already see the faint stirrings of familiarity in her eyes whenever they touched. And she trusted him, which he attributed to her buried memories of him - His eyes went back to the locked bathroom door between them - Well, at least she trusted him more than she had when she’d first hijacked him at gunpoint, so that was progress in his view.
But it was still not as much progress as he’d hoped for.
He found himself growing more impatient by the hour, especially after spending the last couple of days touching her, carrying her, caressing her, feeling her body next to his again as she slept. He wanted her back completely and he wanted her back now! And that innocent kiss made it all the harder for him to keep from pulling her into his arms and kissing her, then making love to her until they were both weak from exhaustion.
But he didn’t just ache for that incredible physical connection they’d always had - though God knew he did miss the way their bodies joined so perfectly together as they made sweet, magical love together. No, he ached just as much for that emotional connection they’d always had - the way they’d always been able to look into each other’s eyes and see the deep and abiding love for the other reflected back. He missed that almost mystical connection between them; where a simple look or a smile conveyed it all, and no words between them were even necessary.
And there were moments when he was sure that she still felt that connection with him, even though she couldn’t really understand that connection. But in the next moment he could see fear overwhelm her. But it wasn’t really like she was afraid of him; more like she was afraid of her feelings for him. And that was understandable, given the situation. As Chuck had pointed out, to her conscious mind Jax was someone she’d just met and barely knew, so these feelings she was having toward him were probably confusing her.
Maybe he should just tell her the truth of who she really is and who he is to her… That would certainly clear up her confusion about her feelings toward him.
But it could also cause more problems, since the ironies that permeated the reality of this situation made it almost too complicated and fantastic to believe, even for him. How on earth could she begin to understand and accept that they had managed to find one another again through this series of fateful happenings? She couldn’t, which would likely mean she’d think he was making all of this up simply to be near her and that would destroy what trust she did have in him now.
No, it would be better all the way around if she remembered things on her own, without any spoon feeding of information on his part. That way she could trust what she was feeling as actual memories and not simply fantasies conjured up by his suggestion. And maybe then she wouldn’t be afraid of the feelings these memories were stirring in her.
But he could certainly make things as enjoyable as possible for her now and maybe that would help her relax and, in turn, help her to trust him even more and help her remember faster.
Deciding that was definitely the way to go, he grabbed his clothes and dressed, intent on making the next couple of days as stress-free and enjoyable as possible. He wanted to make the most of their time alone, now that she was feeling better. In another 36 hours Dr. Weston would be arriving and his time alone with Brenda would be limited after that. “And if all goes well, maybe Beth won’t have to come, after all…” he smiled, as he glanced back toward the closed bathroom door before heading to the kitchen to fix their breakfast and make plans for the rest of the day.
Brenda leaned against the locked door and sighed. Despite how badly she still felt physically, she felt even worse emotionally now. She’d just made a complete fool of herself with Jax, and she wondered how she’d ever be able to face him after kissing him like that. What was she thinking? She shook her head, as she realized she hadn’t been thinking at all. She’d simply acted - spontaneously and instinctively.
And it had felt so unbelievably right at the moment.
She closed her eyes as she remembered the incredible sensation that had spread through her instantly when her lips had touched his skin. It had been like this immediate burst of joy engulfed her, and it was unlike anything she ever remembered feeling before in her life.
(Or had she felt that before?)
Despite the fact that she couldn’t remember ever feeling that way before, it still seemed so familiar to her, just like the gesture had felt familiar and right. Why is that? she wondered. She had rarely given Armand kisses, though he was always kissing her. In fact, she had only initiated two kisses with him, and only one of those times had it truly been spontaneous. But she had never felt anything like this with him.
The only time she had come close to feeling the incredible happiness that she’d felt at that moment when she’d kissed Jax had been in those times in her dreams when she’d kissed or touched her dream lover. Why was she having these same feelings for Jax, a man she barely knew, that she had in her dream with the man she thought was her lover in the past?
Because your equilibrium is off and your emotions are out of whack, logic told her.
That had to be it, she decided. Jax was nothing more than a stranger...
A kind and generous stranger, who’d taken her in when it would have been so much easier for him to simply turn her away. He’d stayed with her and cared for her when she was at her most helpless and vulnerable, and he’d never made any judgments about the terrible addiction that had brought her to that low.
In fact, he’d never made any judgments about her for anything -even hijacking him at gunpoint. The only time he’d even come close to seeming judgmental had been when she’d told him on the plane that they needed to part company as soon as they landed. He’d shot that down immediately as a bad idea, which she supposed, in retrospect, it had been. She certainly would never have made it through the past 36 hours without him. She owed him her life - literally.
Yes, he had certainly been a very kind and most generous stranger, and he was quickly becoming very important to her - like a good friend…
A very good friend…
“A very, very good friend,” she sighed softly, as she realized that her feelings for him were growing more intense and complex the longer she was with him. In fact, this was the closest she could ever remember feeling to anyone since the accident. She felt more comfortable with him after only two days than she had ever felt with Armand after two years. In fact, had she felt this same kinship with Armand, she would never have questioned their relationship. If she didn’t know better, she could almost believe that she and Jax had been together before. But that was impossible.
Wasn’t it?
Of course it was - It had to be! After all, there were just too many coincidences that had brought them together. And she had been the one who had hidden in his car; he certainly hadn’t pulled her into it.
And if they had known each other, Jax would certainly have said something to that effect, wouldn’t he?
… Or maybe he already had…
She tried to think back to some of the things he’d said to her since they’d hooked up, but everything was a blur now. The withdrawal, combined with low blood sugar, was making it hard for her to think at the moment, but she decided that it didn’t matter. It was impossible for them to have known one another before. They had simply been thrown together in this situation by unforeseen circumstance. The familiarity and the attraction she felt for him was simply because he was an extraordinarily handsome man who had gone out of his way to be kind to her. Besides, he seemed embarrassed that she’d kissed him just then, and that had to be because they were strangers.
And because he’s in a relationship with someone.
She sighed again at that sobering thought. No matter how attracted was to him, he was already taken. He had someone he loved.
Of course, she likely did, too, which is why she’d begun having those dreams in the first place… Maybe Jax reminded her of her past love. Perhaps that was why she had felt this connection to him almost immediately. Maybe that was why she felt she could easily fall in love with him now… That had to be it. That was the only logical explanation.
Sighing again, she leaned her crutches against the wall, then hopped over to the bathtub, sitting down on the edge and turning the water on. She glanced up at the mirror above the sink and was immediately startled by her appearance. She looked terrible! Her hair, which she’d hastily chopped off and gelled down in the Straw Market’s public restroom, was now sticking out in all directions. Her normally tan complexion looked nearly gray, and the huge dark circles under her eyes made her look like a raccoon.
She stood and hopped over to the sink to get a closer look at herself. Unfortunately, she looked even worse close up! “God! No wonder he flinched when I kissed him!” she laughed. “I’m a complete mess!” She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to see what she could do with it. She hadn’t been worrying about looking stylish when she’d cut it, but now she wished she’d at least brought the scissors with her so she could even it up a bit here and there. Maybe then it would look a little better.
She looked down at the drawers in the vanity in front of her and began looking through them. “Bingo!” she smiled, as she triumphantly held up a pair of scissors. “Now, let’s see what hair products and other items Jax bought, and I might actually be able to make myself look halfway decent.”
For Jax.
She frowned at her reflection again. Where did that thought come from? she wondered. Hadn’t she just established that Jax already had someone and, in all likelihood, so did she? So, it was pointless - not to mention just plain wrong - to try to make herself more attractive just to impress him.
But, then again, there was nothing wrong with simply wanting to look her best, now was there? she thought, smiling, as she eagerly pulled out all the hair products, body lotions, and other toiletries that Jax had gotten, then quickly disrobed and stepped into the shower.
As the hot water of the shower washed over her, she slowly began to feel human again. She leaned against the shower wall to help her keep her balance, trying not to put too much weight on her right ankle as she showered. She closed her eyes and let the water stream down over her head, thoroughly wetting her hair, then she reached for the shampoo. It had been more than two days since she’d shampooed or showered, and this simple act of grooming was making her feel better than she had in days.
After washing and conditioning her hair, she moved on to washing her body. She poured a small amount of body wash into her hand and began working it into a rich, aromatic lather. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the soothing combination of the pulsating hot water and the slow, circular movements of her hands as she massaged her sore muscles with the foamy lather. She found herself relaxing, as the scent of the body wash combined with the pulsating water and the feel of her own hands on her skin to bring on dreamlike images in her head…
She was in a shower. Through the haze of the steam, she could see the black onyx of the shower stall and the rich hue of the gold water fixtures. She could see and feel the hot water coursing over her body as she lathered herself with the body wash. But then she saw another pair of hands - large, masculine hands - sweep around her waist from behind and draw her back against him. She could feel her heart quicken at his touch, which was both familiar and welcome. As she leaned into his firm, muscular body, she could feel his manhood, hard and erect, as he rubbed enticingly against her. “Mmmm…” she heard herself murmur. “I wondered when you’d finally show up…” She turned around to face his very tan, very broad and muscular chest. Placing her hands on the small of his back, she leaned forward and kissed his washboard abs, before flicking her tongue into his navel, then slowly dragging her tongue upward toward his chest, licking at the droplets of water along the way. As she reached his chest and attached her mouth firmly to his left nipple, she felt him shudder and gently guide her face up toward his mouth…
But just as his face was about to come into view, the images began to fade, and she found herself standing there, wondering if that had been merely a fantasy or an actual memory?
It has to be a memory! she thought excitedly. The details were all too clear to simply be a fantasy. She could still feel his hands caressing her and the shudder of excitement that his mere touch had elicited in her, and she could still taste the salty sweetness of his body as she’d kissed and licked it. It was all so very familiar to her. She and Armand had never had that kind of relationship - That meant it had to be an actual memory of being with the man she loved. Her past was finally beginning to return to her! There was someone out there she loved and who loved her!
Now, if she could only remember his face…