Do You Remember(20)
“I’m not going to get lost,” I say as calmly as I can. “And honestly, it’s not your decision to make. Like I said, I’m an adult. You can’t stop me from leaving.”
Camila’s plump lips set into a straight line. “Actually, I can.”
“Excuse me?”
“Graham is your legal guardian.” She stares at me, unblinking. “We have the court documents to prove it. If you try to leave here, I’ll call the police and they’ll bring you back to the house.”
My breath catches in my throat. “You’re lying.”
“We’ve had to do it before.” She purses her lips. “Several times. It wasn’t pleasant—trust me. I hope we don’t have to do it today, but I will if I have to.”
“How…” I can barely choke out the words. “How could you do that to me?”
Her eyes soften. “It’s for your own safety, Tess. You’re not competent to—”
“Bullshit!”
A few people in the grocery store turn to stare at us, but I don’t care. Camila is lying to me. I am an adult. I could walk out of here anytime I want and there’s nothing she could do to stop me. The police won’t stop me. If I called them, she would be the one who ended up in jail.
But Camila doesn’t seem perturbed by my outburst. She looks like she expected it. There’s a weariness in her expression, like she’s had this conversation with me dozens of times before. The crease between her eyebrows grows deeper.
“You think you’re okay,” she says, “but you’re not, Tess. Your memory is badly impaired. You get confused easily.”
“I’m not confused…”
“And you imagine things that aren’t there,” she goes on. “Like, sometimes you imagine your ex-boyfriend Harry has been texting you and asking you to meet him.”
I freeze. “What?”
“You say Harry is texting you. Telling you Graham is evil. That he’s not really your husband.” She sighs. “That’s one reason you’ve wandered away.”
My mouth hangs open. For a moment, I am speechless. “Maybe he really was texting me…”
She slowly shakes her head. “But he wasn’t. We checked your phone and there was no sign of the messages. And we would go to the place he told you to meet him, and he was never there.”
“Maybe he left…”
“Tess, Harry doesn’t even live in New York anymore. He moved out west years ago. He… he’s married to someone else now.” She rests a hand on my shoulder. “Oh Tess, is that where you were trying to go? To meet Harry?”
I feel dizzy. I need to lean against the wall to keep from passing out. My brain is suddenly fuzzy. What she’s telling me… it can’t be true. I did get a text from Harry today. He told me to meet him at the dog park. I saw him there. He looked right at me. I didn’t imagine that.
Did I?
I reach into my pocket for my phone. But of course, I have deleted all the text messages he sent me. If only he hadn’t told me to delete them. Then I would have proof.
Camila is frowning at me. “Tess? Are you okay?”
I pull up my sleeve to reveal the number I scribbled there earlier. Camila’s eyes widen when she sees it, but I don’t even care anymore. I type the number into my phone and send off a text message:
Where are you?
I stare at my phone, waiting. Camila says nothing, just stands there with me. But nothing happens. No bubbles appear on the screen. Nobody is replying to my text message.
Oh God…
“Where did he say you should meet?” she asks.
I hang my head. “The dog park.”
She nods in understanding. The look of pity in her eyes is too much for me. My own eyes fill with tears. I don’t understand what’s happening. It all felt so real.
“I miss Harry a lot,” I murmur. “I… I wish he were here.”
Camila strokes my hair gently. “I know, sweetie.”
I close my eyes for a moment, remembering the day I met Harry Finch. I was only two years out of college and I was at Best Buy, looking at computers, intending to purchase a laptop. I was talking to the salesman, but this boy about my age with dark hair and eyes, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, was listening in. After a couple of minutes, he started correcting the salesman, who clearly didn’t know what he was talking about.
The salesman became more and more flustered until he finally burst out, “Do you want to take over here?”
The boy blinked a few times and finally smiled. “Yeah. That would be great.”
When the salesman was gone, we just stood there for a minute, smiling nervously at each other. “I’m Tess,” I finally said.
He jabbed a thumb at his chest. “Harry.”
“Nice to meet you, Harry.” I pointed at his shirt. “What does that mean?”
Harry looked down at the writing on his T-shirt. There’s no place like 127.0.0.1. I didn’t know at the time it was one of his favorite shirts. “127.0.0.1 is the local host IP address,” he explained. “It’s the home network on a PC. So…”
“There’s no place like home.”
“Exactly.”