Forget You(57)
Author: Jennifer Echols

He kept staring at the opposite wall. But he went absolutely still. He’d stopped breathing.

Or was that me?

"I’d like to try again," I said. "Slower this time."

He turned to me. We shared a long look, and then he put his hand up to touch the corner of my mouth. I had the smallest lingering doubt that he was teasing me even now. And then he leaned forward to kiss me.

It was slow, all right, and very sexy, back to his thorough exploration of my mouth. In swim practice sometimes we took our pulses to see if we could keep our heart rates above a certain level for a long time. This kiss was as good training as any. While Doug was still in his cast, I would suggest we do this every day for his rehabilitation.

Someone bustled through the corridor. We kept kissing. Just as the double doors slid shut, the doctor called to us, "No PDA in the emergency room. I told you that before too."

I broke the kiss and blinked at Doug. "Did she?"

He nodded.

"Show me what we did."

He pulled my hands under his blanket. He was much warmer now. His lips found the most sensitive spot on my neck.

"I think a little of my memory of that night is coming back," I said, panting. "This seems so familiar. I remember being happy."

And that’s when my phone rang. I pulled it out of my purse and looked at the screen blinking with the caller ID of the mental hospital, finally. I whispered, "My mom."

Probably it wasn’t my mom. I couldn’t get my hopes up. It was a psychiatrist calling to tell me my mom was worse, my mom was crazy, my mom was dead. The phone kept ringing. I took a deep breath and held it. Held on to this moment, not knowing who was calling or why.

Doug said, "Answer it or I will."

I exhaled and clicked the phone on. "Hello?"

"Zoey, are you okay?"

So she’d had another vision of my death. She was calling instead of visiting this time because hospital security had gotten wise to her. "I’m okay, Mom."

"I thought you were. What are you doing?"

My eyes wandered to Doug’s lips. "I brought Doug Fox to the emergency room. He fell in the ocean and got his cast wet."

"Mmm-hmm," she said drily. "I know Doug Fox. I’ll bet there’s more to it than that." This was something she would normally say. This was something she would say if she were normal. But again, I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

She went on, "Y father just called me all freaked out from the Los Angeles airport, coming back from Hawaii. He installed cameras at the house to

our watch you while he got married. In case this pseudoparenting scheme didn’t contain you, his backup plan was to call his ex-wife in the insane asylum."

"Y eah," I acknowledged, "he was real keen on going, so I didn’t point out this problem. I figured I could just stay out of trouble for a week. I almost made it."

"Mmm-hmm," she said again.

"But Mom, I swear, it didn’t even cross my mind that I’d get in trouble for staying out late last night. I came home at exactly the same time I came home a couple of weeks ago, while Dad was still in town, and I didn’t get in trouble then."

"Oh, you’re not in trouble for coming in late." I could almost see her stroking her long blond hair away from her face with her manicured middle finger. "Y ou’re in trouble for going into your dad’s office."

"I needed something," I grumbled.

She sighed. "This is totally up to you, Zoey. But if you want me to, I’ll get custody of you again just as soon as I can. Okay?"

"Okay." I wanted desperately to move back in with her if she was normal. If.

"Just be prepared," she said. "When you do come back to live with me, you are so grounded for calling me the chicken that crossed the road."

I burst into laughter so big and good it hurt.

"What is it?" Doug asked, green eyes wide. He thought I’d finally lost it.

Between giggles I told him, "My mother is feeling more herself."

*** FIVE FRIDAYS LATER, I DROVE ALONG the beachfront road in Doug’s Jeep, which I’d borrowed until he got his cast off. It had plastic sheeting for windows so I couldn’t leave valuables in it and lock it. It was like driving a small pool dome. And it was lots of fun to drive. Not just the wind in my hair but whole-body wind. In short, the Jeep was quirky and high maintenance but worth the trouble. Like Doug.

Mom minded because the wind messed up her hair, but she put up with it. I was driving her back to her apartment after an hour of house-hunting and an early dinner at the Grilled Mermaid. Soon I’d pick up Doug for the football game, and afterward we were going out with Lila, Mike, Keke, and Keke’s football player boyfriend she met at the beach–the one who had been so curious about our pants. It was a beautiful, warm October afternoon without a hurricane in sight, and so much weight had lifted from me lately that I felt a little giddy. I couldn’t wait for tonight. I was just turning onto the highway north toward town when blue lights flashed behind us.

"Did you run a stop sign?" Mom asked. "I mean, did you run the stop sign?"

I watched my rearview mirror until I recognized the policeman. "It’s Cody. He’s pulling me over to screw with me."

"Zoey!" Mom said in mock horror. "Can the language! Act sane or he’ll drag us both back to the mental hospital. Good afternoon, Officer!" she sang past me through the opening that would be called a "window" in a normal car.

He nodded at her. "Counselor. I have orders from the chief to take you to the station. He needs to see you right away about that case. And Zoey, Doug wants you to meet him at the junkyard." He turned and sauntered toward his car.

"Oh, that case." Mom leaned over to kiss my forehead, then opened the passenger "door" and dropped to the ground in her wicked pumps we’d bought at the Destin mall last weekend. "Are you up for more house-hunting tomorrow afternoon?" she called back to me through the "window."

"Theoretically, but you’ll have to drive. I’ll bet this whole setup with Cody is an elaborate ploy for me to meet Doug and see him with his cast off. He was supposed to get it off this afternoon, depending on what the X-rays showed. And that means I’ll give his Jeep back to him."

"Okay, then. I’ll give you a call in the morning," she said without concern, as if she herself were part of the ploy. She walked along the shoulder, climbed into the passenger side of the police car, and applied more lipstick in Cody’s rearview mirror. Y eah, I’d begun to have suspicions about her and the police chief. I would grill her about this tomorrow.