Page 5 of Recollection
“I can only imagine. Please let me know what you need, and I’ll do it.”
I gulp. The mild offer feels like a weight in my gut, and I have no idea why. Instead of finding the appropriate words, I nod.
He pulls away from the hospital entrance and drives in silence until he’s merged onto the highway that leads out of Alexandria. The Worthing estate is about forty minutes to the west.
I’ve been there many times. The mansion and grounds are familiar to me in a way that Arthur himself isn’t. And evidently it’s been my residence for six months now, but I can’t imagine it feeling like home.
“You’re sure you don’t want to stay with Jenna for a while?” Arthur asks, finally breaking the silence.
He might have been reading my mind.
Jenna is my best friend, and she lives in North Carolina. All my other friends dropped me when I left the country with my father, but Jenna never did and we’ve stayed in daily touch. Arthur evidently knows she’s my only close relationship anymore. He called her the day I was injured, and I’ve talked to her several times since. She wanted to drive the six hours to see me right away, but she has a job and a family, and she has to make arrangements before she visits. She’s planning to come see me soon.
I could have gone to stay with her. Part of me wants to, but I want to get my memory back even more.
“The doctor said I should go home. Be in familiar surroundings. If I’ve been living at your place, then that’s where I should go.”
“Yes. I agree. But you don’t have to come immediately. If you’re not comfortable with me—”
“It’s not you.” It’s partly him—for some reason, the quiet, intelligent authority he exudes disturbs me unduly—but he hasn’t done anything wrong. Everything he’s said and done for the past two days has been thoughtful and polite and respectful. Kind of aloof. He’s not sharing anything about himself even when I ask directly. But he’s been good to me, and I assume it’s based on nothing except loyalty to my father. “Thank you for all your help. I really think I’ll feel unsettled and uncomfortable right now wherever I go. Even at Jenna’s. It’s the situation. It’s not you.”
He inclines his head in a brief nod, his eyes focused mostly on the road and only occasionally darting over to my face.
“How did it happen?” I ask, finding the silence more uncomfortable than conversation. “How did I start working for you after Dad died?”
His jaw works slightly. “What do you remember?”
“I remember everything before the car accident. I think. I remember our life in the Caribbean.” When Dad had to flee his conviction, he convinced me to leave the country with him and live on a private island off of Cuba to avoid prison. I’d had a good job in a university library in Charlotte and was starting to build a career for myself and a real social circle for the first time in my life.
But my dad was my only family, and I chose him instead.
I was wrong. It was a mistake. I could have loved him without giving up everything. But no matter how much he loved me, he was always selfish at heart and he didn’t want to be alone. So the worst, loneliest months of my life were the ones I spent in exile with him.
I clear my throat. “He thought he could fix things. He wouldn’t tell me how. But that’s why he was so insistent on coming back that week.” I peer over at Arthur’s face. “You know what he was doing here, don’t you?”
He meets my eyes briefly but doesn’t answer.
“Was he trying to bribe people in DC?”
“Yes. I told him not to. It wasn’t worth the risk, and it wasn’t going to work. But he thought he’d ruined your life. He was right. He had.”
“It was my choice.”
“Yes. But it wasn’t a free choice. You loved him, and he used that love to manipulate you.”
It hurts to hear the words, but not as much as I would have expected. I must have somehow worked through much of this in the six months I can’t remember. “Yes. He did. I didn’t know it at the time, but he did.”
“He knew it too. He managed to smother his conscience a lot of the time, but he did have one. He wanted to fix things for you. I told him coming here would only make things worse, but he was desperate.”
“I remember him telling me someone was coming after him and we needed to get away.” The image of that terrible night plays vividly through my mind like a bleak suspense movie. “I remember it was raining and he was racing for the airport. I remember him missing the curve in the road. I remember his face.” I twist my hands together in my lap. “That’s it. After that, it’s just blank.”
“Your dad died in the wreck. You were bruised up and had a concussion, but you weren’t seriously injured. You didn’t have anywhere to go afterward. You gave up your apartment when you ran away with him, and Charlotte was too far away anyway. So you came back to my place, planning to stay only until you recovered and made a plan for your life. When I offered you the job cataloging my library, you took it because it gave you some breathing room and time to figure out what you wanted to do.”
I think about this for a long time. It makes sense. I can see how it happened. After a couple of minutes, I turn to look at his unreadable expression. “Thank you. For helping me out. I must have felt... helpless. Completely alone.”
“You did. And you were worried that returning to Charlotte and your old friends would put them in an awkward situation since everyone hated your dad so much.”
A faint thread of amusement tickles me. I breathe out a laugh. “I guess I didn’t mind putting you in an awkward situation.”