Page 17 of This Love
I rubbed at them. They were like my arm —a tattoo.
Tucker looked up from where he was unfolding a big blue paper sheet. “That’s your name and birthday. You wanted to be able to remember it.”
“Oh.”
Then I spotted the other side. “Mom is bad.” My head buzzed, and a ringing filled my ears. I covered them, but the noise was inside. “Tucker?”
He moved close and wrapped his arms around me. “We got you away from your mom. You’re safe. We’ve got you.”
For a moment, his arms felt right, like I belonged there. Then he let go and wrapped the blue sheet around my waist, tucking it in so it would stay.
“Vinnie said there is a wedding?” I managed to say. “You and me? Married?”
“We were supposed to,” he said. “I understand you don’t know me anymore. I’ve been through this before.”
“With me?”
This smile matched his face. “Yes, only with you.” He pulled a screen of his own from his pocket. As he tapped on it, something connected about the device. It was a phone.
He clicked on one of several colorful squares. “This is our house.”
I peered at it. A blue building sat on a green lawn with yellow flowers leading up to the door.
“Right now, there are pink flowers instead.” He tapped the row of blooms.
“Did I plant them?”
“You did. You love tending flowers. And photographing them.”
This was interesting. I searched my thoughts for feelings about flowers but couldn’t find any. “Can I see other photos?”
“Of course.” He flipped through one after another. A street. Two kids walking a dog. A bunch of skies in different colors. Then, a woman.
“Is that me?” I took the phone.
“Yes. A couple of weeks ago.”
“Does your picture talk?”
He touched the screen, and it went away, replaced by lots of little squares. “Not that one. But this one does.”
The picture moved like the one in the camera. It was me in front of the blue house. I was holding a long green wire. A hose. A water hose. Water sprayed out of the end. “I’m going to get you, Tucker!” I said.
Water hit the screen, making me lean away. But of course, it couldn’t get to me. It was only a video.
Tucker’s voice said, “Not the phone!” There was a blur of sky, and then the video ended.
The colors and sounds made me smile. I touched my lips. Was that the instinct I talked about? “I live with you?”
Tucker nodded. “We live in the blue house together.” He frowned. “I don’t know if you were off schedule or if you forgot to take your pills, or maybe the excitement of the day got to you, but your seizure meds failed today.”
His face became so sad that I could feel it changing my own feelings. “I don’t think I can get married today.”
“I know.”
The curtains parted, and a new man in a white coat entered. “The bride and groom! I hear you got too excited today.” He stepped too close, too fast, and I scooted to the far end of the bed.
He came around the side. “Don’t be shy. I need to look at your pupils.”
