Do You Remember(13)

I study my list of contacts. Camila and Graham are both strangers to me. I can’t trust them. But I’ve known Lucy since college, and I’ve known my father all my life. Dad and I have never been close though. My mother was the love of his life, and he never quite recovered after she got sick and died. That said, he’s my father and I trust him.

I tap on Lucy’s name first. I grip the phone, pressing it against my ear so hard that it almost hurts. After several rings, Lucy’s chipper voice comes on the recording: “Hey, it’s Lucy. Leave a message!”

“Lucy,” I manage. “It’s Tess. I… I’m having the craziest day. I just… I need to hear your voice. Please call me when you get this. I’m sorry if I sound weird. I just… I need to talk to you. Please.” I add, “Please. As soon as you can.”

Well, she’ll get the idea to call me.

I call my father next. Like Lucy’s number, it goes immediately to voicemail. I leave another desperate message, hoping he’ll find time to call me back sooner rather than later. All I want is to hear a familiar voice to confirm everything the strangers in my house have been telling me.

When I’m done making my two calls, I lay the phone down on the coffee table. I stare at it, willing it to ring. But it doesn’t.

I need to know the truth.

I’ve got to make sure I get to that dog park this afternoon.





Chapter 8


I watch TV while I wait for Camila to be done cleaning upstairs. I make it through an entire episode of The Price is Right. That used to be Harry’s favorite game show, and we watched it together whenever we were home on a weekday. He was obscenely good at guessing the prices of the items.

I don’t get it, I would say to him. How on earth do you know what a sewing machine costs?

He would grin at me. The real question is, why don’t you know what a sewing machine costs? I feel like public education may have failed you, Tess.

He never quite explained his uncanny ability to know exactly what the retail price of every item was. Was he up late at night, studying online sales websites?

I’ll never know now.

While I’m waiting, I browse the Internet on my phone. I find myself googling My Home Spa. And… it turns out my little company has gotten quite large over the last decade. I had just gotten a few key endorsements right before Harry and I were engaged, and it looks like they paid off. Before my accident last year, I was kind of a big deal. I even discover an article about myself, talking about how I turned a simple idea for luxury spa items you can use at home into a multi-million dollar company.

No wonder we had the money to turn this house into a palace. And no wonder Graham had to rush off to meetings to keep things going.

After I google my company, I type my name into the search engine. Followed by the words “car accident.”

There are no hits. No mention of an accident.

In fact, after a slew of articles about me and my company, my name essentially vanished from the Internet about a year ago. It’s like I just...

Disappeared.

I feel a twinge of panic. I bring up the saved numbers on my phone, wishing Harry’s name were on the screen. After our first date, I saved his number in my phone. So even after all the years we were together, I never bothered to memorize it. It never seemed important. But now I wish I had.

Of course, it’s seven years later. Who knows if he even has the same phone number?

My phone lingers over “Dad.” I already called him and left a message. He hasn’t called back. Wouldn’t he want to get in touch with me—his only daughter—after I’ve been in a devastating car accident? But then again, this information is only new to me. Everybody else has been living with the consequences of my accident for an entire year.

I click on his number. I wait as the call connects, and I hear ringing on the other line. One, two, three rings. And then a click.

Hello, you’ve reached Douglas Strebel. Please leave a message.

My father sounds stiff in his message, but that’s no surprise. My father is the kind of guy who manages maybe five smiles the whole year. And two hugs—one on Christmas and one on my birthday. He wasn’t always that way. When I was a kid, he used to smile all the time. Maybe every single day. That’s what losing the love of your life does to you.

“Dad.” I try not to sound like a complete wreck in my message, although I’m sure he’ll surmise I’m having a bad day based on the fact that I’ve left two of them and it’s not even lunchtime yet. “I… I really need to talk to you. So if you can call me back, I… please call me back, Dad.”

And I put the phone on my lap and stare down at it, willing it to ring. I don’t care if it’s Lucy or my father who calls—I just need to hear one familiar voice. Call, dammit!

As I stare down at the screen, I feel a jab of pain on the right side of my skull. I reach out and touch the C-shaped scar. I lift my eyes from my phone, overcome by a surge of dizziness. The phone slides from my fingers as my vision grows cloudy. The entire living room seems to fade away to white and…

I’m in a large office. I’m sitting behind a desk, and I hear a rap at the door. “Come in!” I call out.

The door cracks open, and a man enters the office. It takes me a moment to recognize that it’s Graham. A little younger, but with the same hair the color of sand and the same blue eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed frames. His face splits in a smile. “Hello, Ms. Strebel.”