The Memory of You Read online

  Like him apologizing.

  That had come out of left field.

  “Nat? Answer the question.” Laura was still talking. “What does he look like now?”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say he’s not ugly. But he’s hardly amenable. And I doubt you’ll find him on Facebook.”

  Laura laughed. “Maybe you can work on that. The amenable part.”

  “Laura . . .” Nausea shook her again and she blew air through her lips. “I think he’s married anyway, hard as that is to fathom. Got a couple of kids or stepkids, I don’t know.”

  “Oh, boo.” Her friend’s giggle floated down the line. “Well. You sure you’re fine? How is it, being there?”

  “I’ll get through it. Stop worrying.”

  “I won’t. Call me soon?”

  “Will do.” Much as she wanted to keep talking, find out how Laura’s kids were, Natalie had to go. “Lars, I need to run. Thanks for calling. ’Bye.” She clicked off, sucked air into her lungs, waited to see if the feeling would pass, then bolted for the bathroom again.

  Seven

  TANNER LEFT THE TRUCK RUNNING AND RAN INTO THE OFFICE. He hoped his cell was on his desk where he assumed he’d left it that morning. Hadn’t had time to come back for it until now. It was his turn to pick the kids up from school. He and Mom alternated, depending on their schedules. At least once a week he’d take them to their favorite burger or pizza joint, the park, a movie on Fridays if anything kid-friendly was playing. Hanging out with Jason and Jeni was the one thing that kept him going. Today he’d been so busy he’d almost forgotten. After he took them home, he’d head back to the vineyard to supervise the picking. It was going to be a long night.

  He stopped halfway in and stared.

  Was this the same place he’d left only hours ago?

  A minuscule pile of folders sat on his desk. His clean desk. The shelves on the far side of the room were all in order, books and folders placed in perfect position. A large gray filing cabinet he didn’t remember being there before sat against the wall. He trailed a finger across the surface of his desk. No dust. He could probably eat off the floor.

  Tanner wrinkled his nose at the vanilla scent in the air. He scanned the shelves on the wall. They’d been sorted and tidied, too, and a glass-ensconced candle sat burning on one of them. He rolled his eyes. What would he find tomorrow, potted plants and elevator music?

  He scanned the room again and did a double take.

  What. Was. That?

  A brand-new computer sat where his old one had been. The one he’d used through college and had placed on this desk so proudly the day Hal handed him the keys to the office. The one that was now nowhere in sight.

  He strode toward the shiny new machine and stared at the black apple beneath the screen. Tidying shelves was one thing, but tossing his treasured Toshiba for this . . . imposter . . . Natalie Mitchell had gone too far.

  He turned at the sound of a toilet flushing.

  Natalie stepped out of the bathroom and gave a little jump. “Tanner.”

  “Sorry.” He cleared his throat, anger fading at the sight of her flared eyes. “I didn’t know you were still here.” Hadn’t expected her to last the morning, actually, the way she was looking. He peered at her, searching for signs of illness. She didn’t look as green, but her skin definitely had an odd pallor to it.

  “I’m just about to leave. I made good progress today. I’ve put the files in chronological order, which will make the inputting much easier. I’ll get started on that next.” She offered a weak smile, clearly pleased with herself.

  Tanner scowled. “I see you won’t be doing that inputting on my old computer. Mind telling me where it is?”

  “In that box over there.” The box beside the overflowing trash can. “Don’t look so horrified. I had the tech transfer all your data over. Nothing was lost. He was here almost all afternoon.” She marched toward his desk as though it was hers, picked up her purse, and reached for what looked suspiciously like his cell phone. “You left it this morning. I figured you’d come back for it, but you didn’t. I wasn’t sure how to reach you.”

  “Thanks.” Tanner took his cell and scanned it. Nothing urgent, thank goodness. “So, this . . .” Is ridiculous. He made a wide sweep with his arm. “Looks different. I didn’t realize your skills included interior decorating.”

  She crossed her arms, a groove appearing between her eyes. “The place looked like something out of Storage Wars. I needed some order. How did you possibly function in such a mess?”

  “I functioned just fine.” Tanner tripped over her revelation, scratched his head. “You watch Storage Wars?” Reality TV didn’t seem to suit her. “You seem like more of a Bloomberg channel kind of gal.”

  A semblance of a smile teetered on her lips. “Duck Dynasty is my weakness.”

  Shoot. Really? “I love Duck Dynasty.”

  “Oh, did you see the one—”

  “Look . . . Natalie,” he charged on before they got totally sidetracked. “I knew where everything was in here. Now how am I supposed to find anything? Replacing my computer? Nuh-uh. I did not give you permission to do this.” Anger burned the back of his neck again and he placed a hand there, counted to ten forward and backward.

  “No, I don’t suppose you did.” Natalie shuffled over to the new filing cabinet and pulled open the doors, revealing rows of files. “Assuming you know how to count, I doubt you’ll have too much trouble. If it’s really a challenge, I could always color-code them.”

  Hilarious. “How did you get that thing in here?” He couldn’t imagine her lugging the huge cabinet across the courtyard from wherever she found it.

  “Miguel put it on a dolly and he and another guy set it up for me. My grandfather suggested it, actually. Thought it might make things easier for you.”

  “Miguel, huh?” How many more of his employees would she enchant before her time here was up? Had her eyes always been that blue? “Well. I guess the place looks better.” Dang it, what was she doing to him?

  “I believe the phrase you’re searching for is thank you.” She drained what was left in a plastic water bottle and pitched it into an almost overflowing blue recycling bin that hadn’t been there this morning. It bounced off the heap of balled up paper and who knew what else, and fell into the box that housed his homeless computer.

  “Oh, I created a new password for the computer. You know how to use a Mac, right? If you don’t, I’ll show you. It’s easy. But the password you had on that old thing was terrible. Maoilios?” She laughed. “Who wouldn’t try that first?” She moved past him to the door. “Well, I’m all set. I presume you’ll want to lock up.”

  “And I presume you’ll tell me what that password is?” Tanner slammed the door, fumbled with the lock, and jogged after her.

  “It’s in an envelope in your top drawer. I suggest you memorize it and throw that piece of paper away.”

  “I hope it’s something I can understand. I don’t read so good.” Tanner enjoyed the eye roll she gave him.

  “You’ll be able to memorize it with minimal difficulty, I’m sure.”

  Much as he wanted to run back in there and check out the mysterious password, he was already running late. The kids would be getting antsy. They tended to freak when somebody didn’t show up on time. “Hop in the truck, I’ll drive you up to the house.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s only a short walk.” She exchanged her spectacles for sunglasses and tipped her face toward the late afternoon sun. “I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be.”

  Tanner gave up. He did have somewhere to be. And standing here arguing with Natalie wouldn’t get him there any quicker. “Suit yourself. Have a good night.”

  “You too, Mr. Collins.” She hoisted that monstrous purse on one shoulder and headed up the hill like her feet were encased in concrete.

  Tanner shifted, an uneasy feeling nagging him. He sent Jason a quick text telling him he was on the way. Then he got in his tru
ck, pulled up beside her, rolled down the window, and leaned across the seat. “Get in.”

  She stopped walking and stared in surprise. “I can get there on my own.”

  What was left of his patience flew out the truck window. He knew a lot of stubborn women, but this one shot to the top of the list. “Natalie. Get in.”

  Defeat dulled her eyes as she made her way over, opened the door, and climbed into the seat next to him. She clutched her purse to her chest, leaned back, and sighed. “Thanks. I’m not feeling quite myself at the moment.”

  “No kidding.” He pressed the gas and they moved up the hill. Tanner was careful to avoid the potholes and rough patches. “Why’d you stay down there all day? You’re not on the clock. If you felt sick—”

  “Could we just not talk?”

  He gripped the steering wheel and glared at the road. For the three minutes it took for him to get up to the house, the truck’s interior was thick with awkward silence.

  He parked by the front steps. She didn’t make any sudden moves and he wondered what she was waiting for. If she expected him to be a gentleman and help her down, she could sit there all night.

  “Um.” She shot him a glance. “I won’t be around tomorrow. I have an appointment in San Francisco. Business.”

  “Okay.” What was he supposed to say to that? Have fun?

  “Well.” Natalie finally gathered her things, took off her shades, and turned to face him. “I know you don’t want to do me any favors, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell my grandfather that I wasn’t feeling well. I don’t want him to worry.”

  “No problem.” Hal would worry anyway. One look at her and he’d know something was up. “Hope you get over whatever it is you’ve got soon. Flu’s going around. Jeni had it a couple weeks back.”

  “It’s not the flu.” She opened the passenger door, slipped off the seat, and somehow made it to the ground without falling. Tanner watched until she made it safely into the house.

  If it wasn’t the flu, then he didn’t know what had her looking like she’d contracted the next great mystery disease. Didn’t care.

  Much.

  Okay, so maybe he did care. A bit.

  What bothered him was why.

  Eight

  SOMEHOW NATALIE SURVIVED HER FIRST FULL WEEK IN California. Her appointment in San Francisco went well. She liked Dr. Sherman, and he’d prescribed something different for her. Her stomach revolted for the first couple of days, but Sunday morning finally brought some relief.

  Her grandfather informed her the previous evening that he’d be off to church, she was welcome to accompany him, but Natalie declined. Sleeping in sounded like the better option. She woke feeling a little more human. With any luck, when she saw the doctor this week, she’d be able to report that the new meds didn’t make her feel like she’d spent four hours at an AC/DC concert.

  Natalie spent the morning on the patio reading while Sarah bustled around the kitchen and chatted with her when she came in for more coffee. In no time at all, Natalie knew every restaurant in town, the best place to see the sunsets or shop for antiques, and Sarah had a roast in the oven and bread cooling on the counter. She told Natalie she attended evening services so she could be home to prepare Sunday luncheon.

  They all ate together, apparently, every Sunday.

  The Collins family seemed to have a special place in her grandfather’s life. She was glad he had company, but wasn’t so sure she liked Tanner Collins and his brood being it. But Natalie appreciated the concern Sarah had shown her the last few days. Grandpa Hal kept his thoughts to himself, but he watched her carefully.

  Natalie took refuge in the cool sunny living room at the front of the house. She checked out the various houseplants, studied the artwork on the walls, and finally surrendered to the pull of the array of photographs on the shelves of the built-in bookcases.

  So many memories . . .

  She smiled as she picked up a picture of her uncle. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen at the time. Handsome. Natalie hadn’t seen him in years. He and Dad shared certain similarities. The same blue eyes, although Jeffrey’s seemed to sparkle more, the same crook of the mouth when they smiled. Her uncle was laughing in this picture and she wondered who’d taken it. And where in the world Jeffrey Mitchell was today. She made a mental note to ask her grandfather later.

  Her hands shook as she reached for another silver-framed image that turned back time.

  Nicole sat on a swing, smiling. Perfect in every way.

  Almost like a magazine ad for a kid’s clothing store.

  Natalie sank into a soft recliner and stared at her twin.

  Mom loved to dress them alike. Nicole didn’t put up with that for long. From the time they were eight, her sister insisted they pick out their own clothes. Well, Nicole picked the clothes. Natalie wore them.

  They would have been about five or six when this picture was taken. She wondered where she’d been. Probably standing off to one side out of the way, at Nicole’s instruction.

  Those early years passed quickly. Kindergarten was a blur except for that first day. The day Natalie dreaded all summer. Their nanny drove them to the red brick building, delivered them safely into the waiting teacher’s care, and drove away. Natalie didn’t want to cry. But there were so many other children and they were all staring at them.

  “Come on, Nat. No scaredy-cat stuff today. It’ll be fun, you’ll see. Let’s go.” Nicole took her by the hand and dragged her through the doors.

  Her sister had been right, as usual. It had been fun. Lots of fun.

  Natalie was good at almost everything and enjoyed learning, especially in later years, when she and her twin weren’t in the same class. But Nicole found her on the playground and in the lunchroom, and Natalie still had to play second fiddle.

  After that final summer, when Natalie returned alone to face the stares and whispers and unspoken questions of her classmates, school was no longer fun.

  She returned to the bookshelf to put the picture back in place.

  “Watcha doin’?” A small voice startled her and Natalie jerked her head up. The little girl she’d met last weekend stood beside her. Dressed in a navy corduroy skirt and white blouse with a chocolate stain on it, she flashed blue eyes and a big grin.

  “Ah. Hello. Jeni, right?” The little girl nodded and Natalie smiled. “I was just looking at the pictures.”

  Jeni stared at the bookcase a minute, then turned her big eyes toward Natalie. “Wanna know a secret?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  Jeni puffed out her chest and pointed. “There’s steps behind that. It goes up to the tur . . . turpit . . . whatever it’s called.”

  “The turret.” Natalie nodded. “I know.”

  “Jason told me. But we’re not ’llowed up there. It’s dangerous.”

  “Right.” Natalie wondered when her grandfather had closed off the door.

  Jeni tugged on her arm. “But look, that part is on wheels. So you could move it.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t noticed. Natalie frowned at Jeni. “You guys haven’t been up there, have you?”

  Jeni gave an impressive eye roll and a giggle. “I just said we’re not ’llowed.”

  Oh, well then. Natalie grinned and watched her peruse the photographs.

  “Is that you in the picture?”

  “No. That’s Nicole. My sister.”

  “Oh. She looks like you.”

  “Yes.” Natalie glanced down at the photograph, her eyes stinging. “We were twins.”

  “Aren’t you twins anymore?” Jeni scrunched her nose and twirled her hair.

  “Well, Jeni, it’s kind of a sad story.” She crossed her arms and wondered how much to say. “Nicole died, you see.”

  “Oh. How come?” Jeni trailed her around the room, skipping hopscotch in her black Mary Janes.

  “There was an accident.” Sirens blared within the recesses of her memory. Natalie pushed hair out of her eyes and paused at the piano.
Lifted the lid. Ran a trembling finger across the ivory keys and waited for her heart to stop pounding.

  “That is sad.” Jeni sidled up beside her and touched a few keys. “My mommy plays piano real good. Can you play the piano, Miss Natalie?”

  Her stomach clenched. When had she last played? Had to be months. “I used to.”

  “Don’t you like it anymore?”

  “I like it fine.” She allowed her fingers to fiddle, a few chords forming on their own. “I just haven’t had the chance to play much lately.” Or the desire.

  “Oh.” That seemed to satisfy the child. Jeni tapped out the first few notes of Chopsticks. “I forget how it goes.”

  “Like this.” They shared the bench and Natalie showed her the notes, waited to see if she would catch on, then joined in until they played it through together twice. “One more time? Let’s see how fast we can go.”

  The little girl’s fingers were deft and Natalie laughed as they raced through the tune at top speed. She and Nic could play Chopsticks together for hours until their mother begged them to stop.

  “I like that song. Mommy used to play it with me.” Jeni’s smile faded. “My mommy had an accident, too, like your sister. But the doctors are going to make her better. Uncle Tanner promised.”

  “Uncle Tanner promised what?” A voice drew their attention to the door.

  Tanner strode toward them, arms crossed, a hint of amusement on his face.

  Natalie stared, then looked at Jeni. Uncle Tanner?

  Tanner leaned on the top of the piano. “Natalie. I take it you didn’t succumb to whatever was ailing you.”

  “No.” She mustered a smile. Today was a good day and she wasn’t about to let him ruin it. “I’m feeling better. Were you at church too?” She tried not to sound surprised, but the grin that slid across his mouth said she hadn’t managed it.

  “Don’t sound so shocked.” He stifled a yawn, shadows under his eyes again.

  They harvested the grapes at night, when it was cooler. Natalie had seen them out there on nights she couldn’t sleep.

  “He slept through the sermon,” Jeni whispered to her. “Jason told me.”