Claire laughed. “He saw me looking like a drowned rat. I don’t think it will matter.”
“Just sayin’.”
White freesia and red roses surrounded by pine boughs and silver pinecones, sitting in a white vase next to her bed, caught Claire’s eye. Had Gilbert brought them?
“You asked me to help you. What do you need me to help you with?”
Claire let out a long exhale and tilted her head to her right shoulder, then her left. “Marti, I don’t think I can swim.”
“Are you CRAZY?” Marti’s voice was like a buffeting wind. “You could’ve drowned!”
“Listen, I don’t know why I jumped in after Luca. I just—”
“Claire!” Her voice softened like butter. “You risked your life for him, just like any loving mother would.”
Claire pushed an exhale. “I’ve been wracking my mind trying to remember…what it is I want to remember, I don’t know…but I’ve got to remember because whatever is hiding in this dark place in me is what scared me from becoming a mother.”
“Oh boy, we’re in over our heads here. I know a psychiatrist, but she won’t work with you until she’s met you.”
“I don’t want a psychiatrist.” Claire tapped the speaker icon and placed the phone on her lap. “When I try to remember what happened, it’s like I’m in a dark tunnel and there is no light anywhere. I hear rushing water, and I’m cold, and I smell mud, but I keep walking.”
“Do it now and tell me what you feel.”
Claire rubbed her eyes. An ache weighed heavily in her heart.
“See Luca as you did by the river,” urged Marti.
“As he took a running start, I saw a life ring hanging on the wall, just beyond. After Luca jumped, I grabbed it.” Something squeezed her heart so hard, she gasped. “Oh my God, I didn’t want what happened to me to happen to Luca!” she cried.
“What happened to you, Claire? Can you see yourself?”
“The river…” Brightness glowed. Her vision grew fuzzy, like mist rolling through the room. “I don’t know. Everything’s gone dark again.”
“Luca might have drowned if you hadn’t jumped in after him,” Marti whispered.
Claire squeezed and opened her eyes. Her sweater hung from a hook on the wall. A jagged rip running down the sleeve proved Gilbert was right. The dog must have torn her sleeve as he dragged her to the surface.
“This means that you must have almost drowned. Do you remember anything like that?”
“What? No. My mother never took me to a beach.”
“That you remember.” Marti countered.
“Is that what’s hidden in the darkness?”
“Sometimes not remembering is the body’s method of self-preservation.”
“You mean the dark is protecting me the way David protected me by not telling me about Luca?”
“Possibly.”
“I want to know the truth.”
“Do you feel safe with Gilbert?”
Claire inhaled the scent of freesia and pine. “Yes.”
“Ask if he will help you. You shouldn’t be alone when you do remember.”
