Clean Slate by Harley Crowley
Chapter 28
On Monday morning he was in the coffee shop, staring into the glass mug with his shoulders hunched over it, focused on staying calm. It was 7:38 a.m., seven minutes before Katherine was due. He hadn't wanted to be the one to come in the door looking for her, since he didn't know what to look for. He'd found a table a little apart from the others, but still in view of both doors. His eyes shifted back and forth from one entrance to the other, trying to guess. In just the few minutes he'd been here, numerous women who looked to be dressed for work had come in to pick up coffee, but only a few gave him even a passing glance, and they each went directly to the counter, didn't double-take. The tension was almost unbearable.
Carrie had left before 7:30, and he'd gone directly to the garage and backed out his car as soon as her VW putted around the corner. Even though he needed to move fast, he had an uncomfortable thought. What if she'd forgotten something and came back to get it? He knew his guilt was making him irrational. He left the car idling in the driveway and closed the garage door behind him so it wouldn't be obvious that he was gone. If she did come back she would think he was out running.
He remembered the route downtown from the drive they had taken Saturday. It was just minutes from their door. His pulse raced, and his chest felt constricted. He seemed unable to get a full breath.
Rehearsal was useless. Katherine's moods on the phone had shifted every which way, and he didn't know what this morning's attitude would be. He would have to play it by ear. The thing that he wondered about the most, last night when he tried to sleep, and this morning when he woke at 5:30 with a feeling of dread, was her statement that they loved each other. He didn't believe that. He was sure it was wishful thinking on her part. Which would mean he was the sort of man who took advantage of a woman who cared for him when he didn't return the feeling. That man would be a jerk. But the possibility of being in love with someone besides Carrie didn't ring true.
Through the window Brian saw her coming. It wasn't that he knew her, but the young woman he was watching turned and seemed to recognize his Lexus in the parking strip across the street and then hurried her steps towards the entrance. She wore a tight black skirt, short, with very high heels, shapely legs. Her black fitted jacket had a fur collar buttoned up high around her neck.
She came through the door scanning the tables and then her face lit up with recognition as she came directly to him, looking anxious. Stylish spiky blond hair with highlights, delicate gold bangles on her wrist. He stood, almost held out his hand to shake but instead put both hands on the table. What was the protocol in this situation? He was at a loss.
"Brian! I've been half mad with worry!" She tossed her black bag onto the table and moved forward to embrace him but he stepped back and she stopped short. A quick flash of disappointment, maybe frustration, crossed her face but she banished it and smiled.
"Katherine?" he asked, unnecessarily, but it emphasized the distance he wanted to keep between them, suggested a certain formality.
She searched his face with a frown, and he consciously kept it impassive, except for the slight smile you would wear when being tentatively friendly with a stranger.
"I guess that's obvious," he said. "I'm sorry. But I'm glad you came. I need to talk to you." She adjusted her own welcoming smile to something tighter, and pulled out the chair next to his, sat down and leaned toward him.
In a low insistent voice she asked, "Brian, what's going on?"
"Can I get you a latte or something?" He looked towards the counter and saw a long line waiting to be served. She shrugged the suggestion off impatiently and drilled into him with her eyes.
"You do remember me, don't you? Why are you pretending like this?"
"Katherine, I'm not pretending. I have no reason to pretend to have forgotten my whole life." He'd touched the calm and sensible part of himself. He could handle this.
She was quite pretty, and there was a whiff of spicy perfume. Her face was close to his as she leaned towards him at the table. Her makeup was expertly applied, although it couldn't cover completely the pebbled texture of her skin from what were probably adolescent acne scars. From more than a few feet away you would never notice. She was much closer than that.
"I know this must be hard to believe. It's pretty bizarre." There had been no way to plan how he would handle this thing that should never have happened in the first place. But the important thing was to convince her that it was over.
"I feel so much better, now that I can see you." She reached out and put her hand on his, grasping it tightly. "I've been through hell, calling and calling and not hearing from you! And then your message was so cold, I felt like my heart had been ripped out!" He resisted pulling his hand free for a few moments, because he didn't want to jerk it loose and upset her.
He patted her hand with his other hand and then gradually withdrew them both. "You do understand, don't you? That it's all disappeared for me? Whatever relationship we've had in the past, right now for me it's like we've never met before. There's nothing I can do to help that."
"Why do you say, 'relationship?' It's not just a 'relationship,' Brian. It's love. We were meant to be together. We can't just shut that off. It's not possible! It's not right!" She seemed panicky, reaching for his hand again. He searched inside himself for some feeling, a glimmer of how he had felt about her, some semblance of desire. Had this really been a serious relationship? Or just a casual office romance, a fling? Had he taken advantage of her availability, or had she seduced him? He wondered again what sort of man he was. It gave him a sick feeling.
"Come home with me," She was pleading. "I'll call the office and tell them I'm sick or something. When we make love you'll remember. I promise you will." He didn't want to think about making love to her. It was the last thing he wanted.
"Katherine, I don't know what to say. I can't do that. I can't continue this." He shook his head and tried to be gentle. She wasn't hearing what he was telling her. He had said it was over, hadn't he?
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion and he watched her tense up. Her voice was tight. "Stop calling me Katherine. It's Kate. You call me Kate." And then, like ice, "Are you sleeping with Carrie again? Is that what this is about?"
He hadn't expected that. First, that she would ask such a question. And then, that she knew such a personal thing, that he wasn't in the same bedroom with Carrie. That he'd told her that. He could just hear himself, that old line, though how he knew it was an old line was beyond him. Maybe he was practiced at this. There's nothing between my wife and me anymore. We're just housemates.
Had he promised this woman something? Because if he had, now he had to get out of it.
"Katherine," he said, using the more formal name again. He measured his words, tried to cover his confusion, and his resentment at the way she was invading something he wanted to keep separate. "I don't have any memory of my wife any more than I remember you." He didn't want to be specific with her, certainly didn't want to answer her question directly.
"You're in that house with her, and away from me. That's what I know. How do I know you're not being unfaithful to me? "
He found himself exasperated. This was getting away from him. How could he answer a question like that? Just answering her, because of the way she framed it, carried the implication that he owed her fidelity. Instead he changed the subject.
"You have the advantage over me, Katherine. You know the history between us, and I don't." If he could keep the conversation factual, he could keep his balance with her.
"Your business card was in my wallet. We both work for Halstrom-Pierce, right? That's where we met?"
"Yes." She was impatient to get back to the core of things.
"And how long have we been . . . involved?" It was something he needed to know, to help him understand the situation. As much as he didn't want to go into it.
With exaggerated patience, as if he were a child, she said, "We've been together for a month. Finally. Lunch on Thursday was sup
posed to be our anniversary. But I knew it was coming a long time before that." Her smile flickered and then she began to tear up, and took his napkin to dab at her eyes. "It's been the best month of my life. I've never been so happy! And we don't even get to see each other that much, because of your wife. Because you won't tell her." There was a bitter twist to her mouth.
"Do people at work know about it?" Only a month. It couldn't be that serious.
"No, we've been careful. It's against the rules or something. I think that's a stupid rule."
"How did it happen? I mean, how did we happen to start seeing each other?"
"You mean sleeping together, don't you? We saw each other every day for three years." She was being sarcastic.
"I suppose so. That's what we've been doing?"
"Of course. It was only a matter of time. I knew that the first day you came to work there. I thought, 'That's the man for me.' I think I've been very patient. This thing, this business with your mind, it's not going to stop me. Us. Because we belong together."
Carrie said he'd worked there for three years. And she'd been focused on him for all that time? He must have known. And why, if he was going to have an affair, did it only start a month ago? Was that when he'd been booted out of the connubial bedroom, for a reason he didn't understand? Was it revenge on his part?
"How did it begin, Katherine? Kate."
"We went out for drinks after work one night. You looked unhappy, and I knew I could cheer you up. And then we went to my place, and I did. I did cheer you up." She gave him a look full of sexual innuendo and he felt threatened. Not by desire, but by fear. Fear of what his own impulses had brought about. And fear that this was going to be harder than he thought. She wasn't going to give up easily. On the other hand he was relieved to know that their relationship had been brief. A short affair was better than a long one, wasn't it? He didn't believe he would have made her any promises in that length of time. But how she saw things in her own mind, that could be another matter.
Brian looked at his watch. It was after 8:00. Carrie would be back by 9:15 and he'd told her he was going to run while she was gone. And they would be due at the hospital later for his tests. Another unpleasant task to get over with. At this moment he didn't really care if he had a brain tumor. It would mean he had an escape route. And no matter how the tests came out, maybe he could just tell Katherine he was dying!
"Do you want some coffee?" He needed a breather before he tried again to change Katherine's conviction that they would be continuing their affair.
She shook her head vigorously. "I don't need anything except for you to tell me when we can see each other again. If you really have forgotten, I can help you. We can get it back, Brian."
He took a deep breath and plunged.
"Katherine, listen to me." She stiffened, but he had her attention. "I can't do that. I just can't be with you again. That's why I met you here today, to tell you that. I'm terribly, terribly sorry to hurt you. It's not your fault-it just can't be helped. It has to be over."
Her perfect little face turned slack, blank, expressionless. She was rigid in her chair. She kept her eyes on his and he couldn't look away. Gradually she came out of what looked like a trance. Her lip curled, and her eyes narrowed, and when she spoke her voice was low and threatening.
"That's what you think."
"Katherine, please. Try to understand." He felt helpless.
"No, you're the one who has to understand. This will never be over. I waited too long for you to let you go now. Just when we have this chance to be happy."
She was immovable. Nothing he had said had touched her belief in them as a couple. What had he done? He shook his head, sorrowfully, because he really was sorry. Her self-delusion was pitiful, in spite of the threat in her voice. "I'm so sorry. This is hard for you. I can see that. If it helps, it's hard for me too. But I can't make things be different than they are."
"Yes, you can. You will."
There was no point in going on, because Brian could see that it was going to take time for her to accept it. More words now weren't going to make a difference. He could hear the echo of a song in his head, reversed. No I can't. Yes you can. No I can't. Yes you can.
He stood up. He had to get away from her, now.
"Brian!" A young man was approaching their table, a to-go cup of coffee in his hand.
"Katherine?" He looked surprised to see her there.
Brian stared at him, nonplussed.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Like magic, Katherine switched to a casual, friendly expression. "Hi, Jason."
"What are you two doing here? Brian, I thought you were ill." He looked back and forth at each of them, puzzled.
This must be his assistant, the one who had been working all weekend to rescue the project he'd deserted when his memory deserted him. He wondered what Jason had been told. How was he going to explain finding him with Katherine? He held out his hand.
"You must be Jason, from the office?"
Jason looked at him oddly, questioning. He shook Brian's hand.
"Lou told you what's happened? About my memory?" He laughed, embarrassed. "This is the most bizarre experience. I go out for coffee and two people I work with recognize me, and here I am drawing a complete blank. I understand I've caused you a lot of extra work, a lot of trouble." He hoped he had succeeded in glossing over his presence at the same table with Katherine. An accidental meeting. Unless Jason knew something about them. He hoped nobody did. He didn't need any more complications.
Jason still looked puzzled, and then nodded. "Oh, yes, well we think we have it under control. You mean the Fitzhugh contract. We're almost ready for the meeting this afternoon." He frowned and looked into Brian's face. "You really lost your memory? I thought that was just in stories."
"I wish it were. I'm telling you, it's not much fun."
"When do you think you'll be back at work?"
"I don't know. I'm not much good to you at the moment. Things are pretty much up in the air. But I'm going for some tests at the hospital today, in a little while. Maybe I'll find out more about what to expect."
He looked at his watch, only 8:15, but it was a good time to get out of here and away from the implacable Katherine. "I'd better get going, in fact." Katherine glared at him. He knew she wasn't through with him.
"Would you tell Lou that I'll get in touch as soon as I know something? I'll call him this afternoon if I'm through with the tests. Or tomorrow morning, if it's too late in the day." He said this to Jason, ignoring Katherine's steady gaze.
"Sure. I can do that. We could sure use you. This is temporary, right?" He had the idea that Jason was a bit insincere. Maybe he was giving the young upstart the chance he was looking for to get ahead. If he couldn't remember soon, his own job could be up for grabs. And what would he do instead?
"Keep your fingers crossed. I'd better go." He shook hands with Jason again. "It was nice to meet you. In a manner of speaking. And you too, Katherine." He took his cup to the counter and got the hell out of there, forcing himself not to look back at her. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, knowing he was watched.
On Monday morning he was in the coffee shop, staring into the glass mug with his shoulders hunched over it, focused on staying calm. It was 7:38 a.m., seven minutes before Katherine was due. He hadn't wanted to be the one to come in the door looking for her, since he didn't know what to look for. He'd found a table a little apart from the others, but still in view of both doors. His eyes shifted back and forth from one entrance to the other, trying to guess. In just the few minutes he'd been here, numerous women who looked to be dressed for work had come in to pick up coffee, but only a few gave him even a passing glance, and they each went directly to the counter, didn't double-take. The tension was almost unbearable.
Carrie had left before 7:30, and he'd gone directly to the garage and backed out his car as soon as her VW putted around the corner. Even though he needed to move fast, he had an uncomfortable thought. What if she'd forgotten something and came back to get it? He knew his guilt was making him irrational. He left the car idling in the driveway and closed the garage door behind him so it wouldn't be obvious that he was gone. If she did come back she would think he was out running.
He remembered the route downtown from the drive they had taken Saturday. It was just minutes from their door. His pulse raced, and his chest felt constricted. He seemed unable to get a full breath.
Rehearsal was useless. Katherine's moods on the phone had shifted every which way, and he didn't know what this morning's attitude would be. He would have to play it by ear. The thing that he wondered about the most, last night when he tried to sleep, and this morning when he woke at 5:30 with a feeling of dread, was her statement that they loved each other. He didn't believe that. He was sure it was wishful thinking on her part. Which would mean he was the sort of man who took advantage of a woman who cared for him when he didn't return the feeling. That man would be a jerk. But the possibility of being in love with someone besides Carrie didn't ring true.
Through the window Brian saw her coming. It wasn't that he knew her, but the young woman he was watching turned and seemed to recognize his Lexus in the parking strip across the street and then hurried her steps towards the entrance. She wore a tight black skirt, short, with very high heels, shapely legs. Her black fitted jacket had a fur collar buttoned up high around her neck.
She came through the door scanning the tables and then her face lit up with recognition as she came directly to him, looking anxious. Stylish spiky blond hair with highlights, delicate gold bangles on her wrist. He stood, almost held out his hand to shake but instead put both hands on the table. What was the protocol in this situation? He was at a loss.
"Brian! I've been half mad with worry!" She tossed her black bag onto the table and moved forward to embrace him but he stepped back and she stopped short. A quick flash of disappointment, maybe frustration, crossed her face but she banished it and smiled.
"Katherine?" he asked, unnecessarily, but it emphasized the distance he wanted to keep between them, suggested a certain formality.
She searched his face with a frown, and he consciously kept it impassive, except for the slight smile you would wear when being tentatively friendly with a stranger.
"I guess that's obvious," he said. "I'm sorry. But I'm glad you came. I need to talk to you." She adjusted her own welcoming smile to something tighter, and pulled out the chair next to his, sat down and leaned toward him.
In a low insistent voice she asked, "Brian, what's going on?"
"Can I get you a latte or something?" He looked towards the counter and saw a long line waiting to be served. She shrugged the suggestion off impatiently and drilled into him with her eyes.
"You do remember me, don't you? Why are you pretending like this?"
"Katherine, I'm not pretending. I have no reason to pretend to have forgotten my whole life." He'd touched the calm and sensible part of himself. He could handle this.
She was quite pretty, and there was a whiff of spicy perfume. Her face was close to his as she leaned towards him at the table. Her makeup was expertly applied, although it couldn't cover completely the pebbled texture of her skin from what were probably adolescent acne scars. From more than a few feet away you would never notice. She was much closer than that.
"I know this must be hard to believe. It's pretty bizarre." There had been no way to plan how he would handle this thing that should never have happened in the first place. But the important thing was to convince her that it was over.
"I feel so much better, now that I can see you." She reached out and put her hand on his, grasping it tightly. "I've been through hell, calling and calling and not hearing from you! And then your message was so cold, I felt like my heart had been ripped out!" He resisted pulling his hand free for a few moments, because he didn't want to jerk it loose and upset her.
He patted her hand with his other hand and then gradually withdrew them both. "You do understand, don't you? That it's all disappeared for me? Whatever relationship we've had in the past, right now for me it's like we've never met before. There's nothing I can do to help that."
"Why do you say, 'relationship?' It's not just a 'relationship,' Brian. It's love. We were meant to be together. We can't just shut that off. It's not possible! It's not right!" She seemed panicky, reaching for his hand again. He searched inside himself for some feeling, a glimmer of how he had felt about her, some semblance of desire. Had this really been a serious relationship? Or just a casual office romance, a fling? Had he taken advantage of her availability, or had she seduced him? He wondered again what sort of man he was. It gave him a sick feeling.
"Come home with me," She was pleading. "I'll call the office and tell them I'm sick or something. When we make love you'll remember. I promise you will." He didn't want to think about making love to her. It was the last thing he wanted.
"Katherine, I don't know what to say. I can't do that. I can't continue this." He shook his head and tried to be gentle. She wasn't hearing what he was telling her. He had said it was over, hadn't he?
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion and he watched her tense up. Her voice was tight. "Stop calling me Katherine. It's Kate. You call me Kate." And then, like ice, "Are you sleeping with Carrie again? Is that what this is about?"
He hadn't expected that. First, that she would ask such a question. And then, that she knew such a personal thing, that he wasn't in the same bedroom with Carrie. That he'd told her that. He could just hear himself, that old line, though how he knew it was an old line was beyond him. Maybe he was practiced at this. There's nothing between my wife and me anymore. We're just housemates.
Had he promised this woman something? Because if he had, now he had to get out of it.
"Katherine," he said, using the more formal name again. He measured his words, tried to cover his confusion, and his resentment at the way she was invading something he wanted to keep separate. "I don't have any memory of my wife any more than I remember you." He didn't want to be specific with her, certainly didn't want to answer her question directly.
"You're in that house with her, and away from me. That's what I know. How do I know you're not being unfaithful to me? "
He found himself exasperated. This was getting away from him. How could he answer a question like that? Just answering her, because of the way she framed it, carried the implication that he owed her fidelity. Instead he changed the subject.
"You have the advantage over me, Katherine. You know the history between us, and I don't." If he could keep the conversation factual, he could keep his balance with her.
"Your business card was in my wallet. We both work for Halstrom-Pierce, right? That's where we met?"
"Yes." She was impatient to get back to the core of things.
"And how long have we been . . . involved?" It was something he needed to know, to help him understand the situation. As much as he didn't want to go into it.
With exaggerated patience, as if he were a child, she said, "We've been together for a month. Finally. Lunch on Thursday was sup
"Do people at work know about it?" Only a month. It couldn't be that serious.
"No, we've been careful. It's against the rules or something. I think that's a stupid rule."
"How did it happen? I mean, how did we happen to start seeing each other?"
"You mean sleeping together, don't you? We saw each other every day for three years." She was being sarcastic.
"I suppose so. That's what we've been doing?"
"Of course. It was only a matter of time. I knew that the first day you came to work there. I thought, 'That's the man for me.' I think I've been very patient. This thing, this business with your mind, it's not going to stop me. Us. Because we belong together."
Carrie said he'd worked there for three years. And she'd been focused on him for all that time? He must have known. And why, if he was going to have an affair, did it only start a month ago? Was that when he'd been booted out of the connubial bedroom, for a reason he didn't understand? Was it revenge on his part?
"How did it begin, Katherine? Kate."
"We went out for drinks after work one night. You looked unhappy, and I knew I could cheer you up. And then we went to my place, and I did. I did cheer you up." She gave him a look full of sexual innuendo and he felt threatened. Not by desire, but by fear. Fear of what his own impulses had brought about. And fear that this was going to be harder than he thought. She wasn't going to give up easily. On the other hand he was relieved to know that their relationship had been brief. A short affair was better than a long one, wasn't it? He didn't believe he would have made her any promises in that length of time. But how she saw things in her own mind, that could be another matter.
Brian looked at his watch. It was after 8:00. Carrie would be back by 9:15 and he'd told her he was going to run while she was gone. And they would be due at the hospital later for his tests. Another unpleasant task to get over with. At this moment he didn't really care if he had a brain tumor. It would mean he had an escape route. And no matter how the tests came out, maybe he could just tell Katherine he was dying!
"Do you want some coffee?" He needed a breather before he tried again to change Katherine's conviction that they would be continuing their affair.
She shook her head vigorously. "I don't need anything except for you to tell me when we can see each other again. If you really have forgotten, I can help you. We can get it back, Brian."
He took a deep breath and plunged.
"Katherine, listen to me." She stiffened, but he had her attention. "I can't do that. I just can't be with you again. That's why I met you here today, to tell you that. I'm terribly, terribly sorry to hurt you. It's not your fault-it just can't be helped. It has to be over."
Her perfect little face turned slack, blank, expressionless. She was rigid in her chair. She kept her eyes on his and he couldn't look away. Gradually she came out of what looked like a trance. Her lip curled, and her eyes narrowed, and when she spoke her voice was low and threatening.
"That's what you think."
"Katherine, please. Try to understand." He felt helpless.
"No, you're the one who has to understand. This will never be over. I waited too long for you to let you go now. Just when we have this chance to be happy."
She was immovable. Nothing he had said had touched her belief in them as a couple. What had he done? He shook his head, sorrowfully, because he really was sorry. Her self-delusion was pitiful, in spite of the threat in her voice. "I'm so sorry. This is hard for you. I can see that. If it helps, it's hard for me too. But I can't make things be different than they are."
"Yes, you can. You will."
There was no point in going on, because Brian could see that it was going to take time for her to accept it. More words now weren't going to make a difference. He could hear the echo of a song in his head, reversed. No I can't. Yes you can. No I can't. Yes you can.
He stood up. He had to get away from her, now.
"Brian!" A young man was approaching their table, a to-go cup of coffee in his hand.
"Katherine?" He looked surprised to see her there.
Brian stared at him, nonplussed.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Like magic, Katherine switched to a casual, friendly expression. "Hi, Jason."
"What are you two doing here? Brian, I thought you were ill." He looked back and forth at each of them, puzzled.
This must be his assistant, the one who had been working all weekend to rescue the project he'd deserted when his memory deserted him. He wondered what Jason had been told. How was he going to explain finding him with Katherine? He held out his hand.
"You must be Jason, from the office?"
Jason looked at him oddly, questioning. He shook Brian's hand.
"Lou told you what's happened? About my memory?" He laughed, embarrassed. "This is the most bizarre experience. I go out for coffee and two people I work with recognize me, and here I am drawing a complete blank. I understand I've caused you a lot of extra work, a lot of trouble." He hoped he had succeeded in glossing over his presence at the same table with Katherine. An accidental meeting. Unless Jason knew something about them. He hoped nobody did. He didn't need any more complications.
Jason still looked puzzled, and then nodded. "Oh, yes, well we think we have it under control. You mean the Fitzhugh contract. We're almost ready for the meeting this afternoon." He frowned and looked into Brian's face. "You really lost your memory? I thought that was just in stories."
"I wish it were. I'm telling you, it's not much fun."
"When do you think you'll be back at work?"
"I don't know. I'm not much good to you at the moment. Things are pretty much up in the air. But I'm going for some tests at the hospital today, in a little while. Maybe I'll find out more about what to expect."
He looked at his watch, only 8:15, but it was a good time to get out of here and away from the implacable Katherine. "I'd better get going, in fact." Katherine glared at him. He knew she wasn't through with him.
"Would you tell Lou that I'll get in touch as soon as I know something? I'll call him this afternoon if I'm through with the tests. Or tomorrow morning, if it's too late in the day." He said this to Jason, ignoring Katherine's steady gaze.
"Sure. I can do that. We could sure use you. This is temporary, right?" He had the idea that Jason was a bit insincere. Maybe he was giving the young upstart the chance he was looking for to get ahead. If he couldn't remember soon, his own job could be up for grabs. And what would he do instead?
"Keep your fingers crossed. I'd better go." He shook hands with Jason again. "It was nice to meet you. In a manner of speaking. And you too, Katherine." He took his cup to the counter and got the hell out of there, forcing himself not to look back at her. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, knowing he was watched.