214 Palmer Street(18)
“Poor kid.” Kirk reached over to stroke her cheek. “Doomed to have bad hair and terrible eyesight. I think it’s better if our children take after their mother.”
She’d gone off her birth control pills that weekend, but didn’t tell him, thinking that it would be fun to surprise him when she was actually pregnant. Now that she was recovering from an assault, she was glad she didn’t get pregnant right away.
The first evening after her arrival home from the hospital, she headed into the master bathroom to take a shower, and did a double take when she saw the towels. The ones folded neatly over the towel rack were the same color, sea foam green, but were striped not solid. When drying off, she noticed they were thicker and fluffier than the previous set, which she appreciated especially when it came to her hair.
“I like the new towels,” she said, heading into the bedroom. Kirk was sitting up in bed, the covers over his legs as he read a book. He often waited for her that way.
He glanced up over his reading glasses. “What new towels?”
She gestured back with a jab of her thumb. “The striped ones. I approve. They’re nice and absorbent.”
Kirk’s forehead furrowed. “Those are the same towels we’ve had for a while now. They’re not new.”
“No, they…” Sarah stopped, confused. “Didn’t we used to have solid-colored towels? Same color, though.”
“We did about six months ago.” He gave her a concerned smile. “Did you want solid-colored towels?”
“No, I’m not asking for something different. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m asking if you bought new towels while I was in the hospital.”
“No, Sarah,” he said, with a smile. “I did not buy new towels when you were in the hospital. These are the same ones we’ve had for quite a while.”
She slowly came around to her side of the bed and slid under the covers. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. I could have sworn we had different towels. I can even picture what they looked like.”
“I’m sorry. That must be frustrating, but give yourself a break. You’re remembering the old towels.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’ve had a head injury. Things will be muddled for a while.”
“The doctor said the injury wasn’t that extreme, though. And you’d think I’d remember something as simple as towels.” She sighed. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
Kirk put his bookmark in between the pages and closed the book. “I’m actually flattered that you thought I had time to go towel shopping on top of being camped out at the hospital.” He took off his glasses, folded them up and put them in the case on his nightstand, then meticulously set the book next to them. “I was a little busy being out of my mind worrying about you. I could barely breathe much less anything else.”
“I know.” Sarah nodded. He’d been at her side the entire time. The nurses even looked the other way when he didn’t budge from his seat at the end of visiting hours. Sometimes she woke up to find him watching her intently and stroking her arm.
“I know this recovery isn’t happening fast enough for you, but soon enough you’ll be back to normal.”
“I hope you’re right.” The physical problems, the never-ending ache in her head, the dizziness that came on suddenly, the pressure behind her left eye, none of it was nearly as bad as her cognitive issues. “The worst part is feeling like I’m losing it. Now I know how it must feel to have dementia.” She reached back and adjusted her pillow. “Like those threatening notes. Except for the first one, I have no recollection of them, and you’d think I’d remember finding a dead rat on our porch. I’ve racked my brain but nothing comes up. That’s so alarming. Why don’t I remember?”
“Maybe it’s your mind giving you a break,” Kirk said, leaning over to give her a quick peck on the lips, before turning off the lamp on his nightstand. “You’ve repressed a painful memory. You were distraught at the time. Better just to forget it.”
In the dark, Sarah aimed her gaze at the ceiling, barely making out the ceiling fan overhead. “Maybe if I read the notes again it would jog my memory. Before you leave for work tomorrow could you get them out for me?” There was a long pause and then she heard her husband sigh audibly. “You still have them, don’t you, Kirk?”
“Now why would you want to read something so horrible? It’s better to let it go, Sarah. It’ll just get you upset.”
“I think I’m more upset not knowing.” She pulled the covers up to her chin, then slid her hands underneath. “So you don’t have them anymore?”
“I gave them all to Gavin. When I filed the police report.”
Sarah waited a moment. “Do you think we could get them back? Or maybe get copies?”
Kirk took a deep breath. “I don’t think we can get them back. There might be a connection to the notes and your attacker, so the police need them. They’re evidence now. If it helps, all of the notes were similar to the first one, the one you remember seeing. Block letters saying things like you’re going to get yours, and you think you’re so great. Rambling crazy stuff, Sarah.” He turned toward her, and reached over to stroke her hair. “It makes me angry even thinking about it. Please don’t dredge it up again. It was bad enough the first time around.”