Remember This Page 3
I couldn’t think of anything else to do at the office which is why I am sitting in my garage with the car off dreading going inside.
Fighting every muscle in my body, I head inside and walk into the living room. Something is different in here but I don’t have time to figure out what it is. I am distracted by Mason sitting at his laptop with the photo printer next to him.
“Hey,” he says looking up as I walk in. I see him look back at the computer smiling.
“What are you doing?” I ask suspiciously. His smile gets bigger and he starts to lose control. I look around the room and notice that there are picture frames set up everywhere. That’s why it looks so different in here. I walk over to the fire place mantel and pick up one of the new frames. As I stare at the picture bordered in black, my insides convulse. I put it face down and move across the mantel looking at the other new pictures. This is my worst nightmare.
“Where did you get these pictures?” I say so menacingly quietly that I’m not even sure he can hear me over his laughing.
“Your mom emailed them to me. She said that they might help me get my memory back.”
I walk around the room grabbing as many picture frames that I can fit in my hands. I am guessing I have about twenty but I haven’t even gotten to half of the room. Where in the world did he get all of these frames? That is the least of my worries. All the frames are full of pictures of me from my childhood. I was an ugly child. I had the worst teeth so of course braces were a necessity and the head gear to go with it. I don’t even think they make kids wear that anymore probably due to the horrible embarrassment it causes.
I also used to be very chunky. I don’t think my mom could have sent him more embarrassing photos. I am going to have to talk to her about all of this. I am so pissed that I forgot Mason was even in the room until he started laughing again.
“This is the best one yet, Lucy,” he says as he smiles a lopsided grin and crosses his eyes, clearly imitating the picture in front of him. He is laughing so hard that I think I see tears rolling down his cheeks. “I know my memories are gone but out of everything, you would think that I would remember that they made vests with teddy bears on them,” he chokes out.
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you the best part.” I freeze as I grab a picture of me in a floral swimsuit with floaties around my arms. My sister is in the middle of pushing me in the pool in the picture so my face is all bug eyed. What could he possibly say that is worse than this? “When your mom sent me the email, naturally I wanted to print them off as soon as possible so I pushed the send button here on the screen to send them to the printer. I guess I don’t exactly remember how email works because after I pushed that button it asked if I wanted to send to ‘all.’ I thought it meant all of the pictures so I clicked yes.”
“No, no, no.” The words were out of my mouth before he finishes the story. Unfortunately, I know how the story ends and it doesn’t have a happy ending. “You sent all those pictures to all of my contacts didn’t you?” I ask fully aware of what the answer is.
“Yes, but it was an accident. You seem to already have some replies,” he snickers to himself.
“Dammit, Mason. Everyone from work and some of my clients are in my contacts. This is not good.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. In some of these you look kind of cute. I especially like this one,” he says holding up a picture of me just in my underwear from when I was like three. I can see my fat rolls from across the room. I cringe at the thought of my boss opening that attachment.
I storm out of the room, my arms full of frames and I find a black garbage bag. I stuff all the frames I can find around the house in the bag. As I walk past the desk I catch the picture flying off the printer before Mason can get a hold of it. He protests but gives up once he sees how mad I am. I think I found all of the pictures so I shove the garbage bag under my bed.
I hear my phone beep to signify that I have a text. I storm back out into the living room and pick up my purse from where I dropped it on the floor in a panic. The text is from Drey who also must have received the email.
*You still wanna play nice? Cute scrunchie btw!*
My blood is boiling but I insist on channeling my anger to get back at Mason. He may get the sympathy vote from some people but he knows exactly what he is doing. This is typical Mason. Well, new Mason anyways. Not caring about how his actions affect other people. Apparently that is not something that goes away once your memory is erased. I have made up my mind on what I want to do. I text Drey back.
*Game on.*
I hit send and look up at Mason. He is staring at me with suspicious eyes. My face must look mischievous because he almost looks scared. Oh, Mason, you should be. A wedding you say Dr. Carter? Well a wedding we shall have.
“Mason, we’re getting married again,” I say with a menacing smile. He just swallows. This is going to be so much fun.
3. Shenanigan Queen
Why do you look like a crazy ex who has a plan?” Drey asks looking at my smug but thoughtful expression. Her eyes are full of excitement. She wants Mason to be destroyed too. He once told all the guys in a bar we were at that she had herpes. I don’t think she ever got over that.
I decided that I needed to get out of the house so I went to Drey’s. The rest of the day yesterday, I spent brooding in my room and eating Haagen Das. If I was planning my second wedding, I needed to change my diet and get out of the house.
“Drey, do you still have your bridesmaid dress?”
“Of course I do. It’s the brightest thing in my closet,” she says.
“Perfect because we are going to Mexico.”
“I’m all for it. I had a great time at your wedding. Maybe the same cabana boy will be at the pool again. He really was dreamy.”
“I plan on spending the majority of my time at the beach, at the spa, and making Mason wish he had never brought that bimbo home with him.”
“I like how you think. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t have any plans yet. All I know is that I have to put all my prior good feelings about him behind. This is a game and I’m going to win.”
Today sucked at work. I spent all day emailing clients apologizing for the pictures that got sent to them. My boss wasn’t happy either. When he was done reprimanding me, he laughed and made a stupid comment about the picture of me picking my nose. I was two for crying out loud.
The break room was covered in the photos and someone so kindly wrote Lucy Harper in the bottom corner of every print out. Erin, my friend at work, said she took all the ones out of the bathroom, men’s and women’s, before I got there. Even though I work at a professional establishment, my co-workers are such pranksters. I actually laughed about the incident for the first time today because of them. They really are good people.
“So this means we get to reenact the wedding night?” Mason says after I get home from work. We haven’t really talked since the photo incident. I still find pictures that I missed around the house. There were two pictures in each bathroom and one in the kitchen that I didn’t see until today.
“Absolutely not! You’re a pig,” I scream and glare at him. “We will be staying in two separate bedrooms. If I had it my way, it would be two separate hotels, or even cities but you have to stay at the same place just in case something jars your memory. I would stay at another hotel but I have a credit at the spa that I am not giving up.”
“When do we leave?” he asks.
“Next week after my presentation at work. That way I can be stress free and fully relaxed, except for the fact that I have to remarry the person I despise the most. You know Mason, you really suck the fun out of everything!” I say stalking out of the living room and into my bedroom.
The next week with Mason is torturous. For the first half of the week he took out all of his old CD’s and pulled out the stereo from the closet. He sang along to all of the songs and listened to everything from Johnny Cash to N’Sync. We were both shocked that he remember
ed every word to ‘Bye, Bye, Bye’ and some of the dance moves to go along with it. I was so sick of listening to music all night after work that I spent a few evenings at Drey’s.
The rest of the week he spent working out and shopping for clothes for our trip. The man still knows how to dress even in his current state.
Friday was pretty eventful though. I took the day off and started my vacation early. I decided I would try to reenact some more of our past to trigger his memory. I am desperate to have my life back to normal so I need to try everything.
“Mason, will you grab the fishing poles out of the garage and put them in my car?” I call at him from my bedroom.
“Sure,” he says and I hear the door out to the garage close. Mason used to fish all the time with his dad when he was younger. He took me a few times when we first started dating so I thought this might help him out in the memory department. I don’t know a lot about the sport but I know the basics. I used to go when I was little too.
“What are fishing poles?” he says coming back in the house. Sometimes I forget that he doesn’t know anything. How do I even explain this?
“Um, they are in a bucket in the corner of the garage I think.” I hear the door close again.
I have to act like I really like fishing if this is going to be a real reenactment. When we first started dating, like any girl, I pretended to be really into what Mason was into. When we would go, I would pretend that I was having the time of my life baiting my hook, but I was really only having fun because I was with him.
I settled for skinny jeans and a long sleeve black shirt for today’s excursion. I can just wear flip flops since we will be fishing from shore.
“Ok, everything is packed and ready to go,” he says standing in my bedroom doorway watching me fight with my hair. A pony tail it is.
“Alright, let’s do this.” I climb into the car and am immediately annoyed. He set the fishing poles in the back so the tip of them is in between our faces. What makes it worse is that there are two bright green metal lures at the end of the fishing line that clank together at any movement in the car. “Unbelievable,” I scoff getting out of the car. I rearrange the bucket so the tips of the poles are hanging over the back seat, then climb back in the driver’s seat.
“Good call,” Mason says with a dumb grin on his face. Sometimes men don’t think at all.
We cruise down the 520 in silence until we take the exit for Lake Washington.
“This is a beautiful lake,” he admires as we get into the wooded area.
“The place we are going is just up ahead. We used to come here a lot.” I find a parking spot twenty yards up. We grab everything out of the car and walk to the edge of the lake. It is surprisingly quiet out here.
“Ok,” I sigh. I don’t know how I am going to explain fishing to him. “First, we have to bait the hook,” I say handing him his pole and taking mine. “Grab a worm from that Styrofoam container.” He digs his fingers in and pulls out the biggest worm he can find. I don’t mind most aspects of fishing but baiting the hook is one of the things I can’t stand doing. I grab my own worm. “Now, make sure you get it securely on the hook.” He stabs the worm like a pro. I struggle a little watching the poor thing squirm in my hand. “Ok, now you cast out into the water, like this,” I demonstrate pulling the pole behind my head and launching it forward sending the worm flying into the lake, breaking the glass effect on the surface. It lands farther out than I expected for my first try. Not too shabby. Mason casts and his line drops about ten feet past mine. I scowl. How is he so good at everything?
“Now what?” he asks a little giddy with excitement.
“Now we wait until we get a bite.” I stare out at the pristine blue water and take in the fresh air. This really is relaxing. The giant trees looming around us give off an earthy pine and sap smell. I could stand out here all day. It reminds me of fishing years ago. Hopefully it has the same effect on Mason.
I watch him through my peripherals and I can see that he is intently watching the tip of his pole for the slightest movement. I also see him sniffing in the air. Even though we are only a few miles from the city, it smells different here. Maybe it’s just enough to jump start his memory.
His eyes widen and I stiffen. Did this work? Is he back? Surely it isn’t that easy. To the left of my vision, I see his pole moving and I realize that’s what caused his excitement. Disappointment flutters through my body. I knew I wouldn’t get off that easy.
“What do I do now?” he asks a little frantic and excited.
“Wait until you feel the fish clamp on, and then yank a little so it gets stuck on the hook. Then reel it in.”
“Ok,” he yanks and then really starts to crank the handle, reeling as fast as he can. I can see the fish leap out of the water, attached to his line. It only takes him a couple of seconds and then he has the fish dangling above the gravel. He grabs onto the fish and takes it off the hook admiring his catch. It isn’t big, maybe two pounds but he is still excited. “This is awesome!”
“Ok, now throw it back in,” I say. The other part I hate about fishing is cleaning the fish. This is a catch and release kind of day. “Good catch!” I say trying to sound excited and enthused. I think I succeed. Maybe this won’t be that hard.
We fish for about an hour. Mason caught six fish and one was actually decent size, about seven pounds. I caught three, small enough to be minnows and one a little bigger than Mason’s first one.
I actually had an enjoyable time until Mason thought it was a good idea to chase me around the beach trying to make me kiss the big fish he caught. I think he was actually cackling.
“We’re leaving,” I demand and I speed back home. That’s enough reenactments until the wedding. I’ve realized I can still only handle Mason in very small quantities.
“Here’s your ticket, Mason. We have to be at the airport in 20 minutes. The car is on its way,” I say as I hand Mason his plane ticket. I look up and notice that he is rummaging through the fridge while eating an apple, butt naked.
“Why are you naked? We are about to leave. Can’t you take anything seriously?” I stand trying to force a look of disgust on my face. He really is very beautiful which makes it hard to look disgusted. I make myself think about him bringing another girl into our house and I think I nail the look I am trying to convey.
“Seat 26 B,” he reads. You must have seat 26 A then?” He completely disregards anything I had just said to him and ignores the fact that he is naked in the kitchen.
“Not in your wildest dreams am I sitting next to you,” I whisper to myself hoping that he can’t hear me.
“What was that?” Mason hollers across the kitchen.
“Oh I just said that I am sure my seat is close to yours. I booked them at the same time so they should be. My family flies in tomorrow and so does yours,” I say trying to change the subject since I know very well that my seat is rows away from his. “The wedding is the day after everyone comes in on Tuesday. Don’t forget to pick up your tux in Mexico.”
“Ok. I just have to go shave my chest before we leave. I want it to look good for the ladies, and my beautiful bride of course. Do you know where my razor might be? It’s weird; I don’t remember ever shaving myself. But judging by how nicely groomed the rest of my body is,” he says as he looks himself up and down, “I’m sure there is one around here somewhere,” he finishes as he wanders into the living room searching under the couch cushions.
Under the couch cushions? Seriously? I’m not going to tell him otherwise because I enjoy watching him search. Partly because I like to see him struggle and partly because he looks so damn good naked. His back muscles ripple every time he lifts up a cushion…Stop! I tell myself. I can’t let his charm get to me.
Don’t fall for his trap. He may be incredibly handsome, toned, and have a really good sense of fashion when he isn’t walking around naked but he is still a cheater and completely and totally in love with himself. He’s trying to be charming in hopes
that I won’t make his life a living hell in Mexico. Well he can charm away. There is nothing stopping me from getting the last laugh.
I finish grabbing the last few things I need before we leave and grab a bottle of water to drink on the way to the airport. I plan on being drunk the entire trip so I need to hydrate myself as much as possible to avoid the awful hangover I had last time we said our vows. I can do this, I chant in my head. This is my chance to be as big of a bitch to Mason as I want and get my revenge. I will have to put aside all of the work emails and phone calls to make sure that I am on my game at all times. That’s a big sacrifice for me since I am attached to my iPhone at all hours of the day with my clients calling me all the time for help with their marketing campaigns. I am an important person and they need me at my office to make sure…”Honk Honk.”
The car honking outside breaks my train of thought. It’s a good distraction keeping me from thinking about all the projects I have going on. I need to focus on the task at hand. I have transformed over the last week into a crazy, revengeful bitch. The more that Mason opened his mouth, the more it pushed me towards this state but I think it’s a character I am ready to embrace.
“Mason, let’s go!” I shout as I walk out of the house deliberately leaving my suitcase in the middle of the floor. The game starts now.
“Lucy, you forgot your suitcase,” Mason calls after me. I see him peering out of the curtains in the front window as I stroll down the driveway and slowly climb into the car. I roll down my window and oh so sweetly say, “You always load my suitcase into the car, remember?”
I roll up the window with a smirk on my face since I know very well that this is not the case. For the past few months Mason never lifted a finger to help me. At one point, when we got along, he would do anything for me. Not that our relationship was perfect, but we used to take pleasure in helping each other. Ever since we drifted apart though, things have changed.