I Remember It All

Chapter 4

I woke and stretched my arms wide out to the side. What a wonderful feeling. I felt great. I hadn’t been this relaxed, or this rested, in months. Whatever I did yesterday seemed to have agreed with me, so I opened my eyes and looked around.

My God! This wasn’t my room! This wasn’t even my bed, not that my bed might be in someone else’s bedroom! I was lying on the silkiest sheets I’d ever felt, although they were quite wrinkled. It looked like they had been really well-used last night. I looked around me. This was also the most magnificent room I’d ever seen, but I was alone…and naked. Something must have happened. What?

Had I been in bed with someone? Duh! Did we have s*x? Double duh! I wiggled my hips to see how they felt. They felt like they had had a bit of action lately. So, yes, I had had s*x. But whoever it was wasn’t here anymore. I’d been abandoned!

I sat up. Where was I? For the first time in my entire life, I couldn’t remember. That was really, really strange.

I looked around the room. It was perfectly decorated with beige-colored walls and light green woodwork and curtains. The furniture was light ash-colored and superbly organized. Everything was in its place and set artistically on the dresser. The pictures of flowers hung neatly on the wall, along with a few photos. Everything was strategically placed where it made sense aesthetically. Someone organized?

Then it hit me: the dinner at the steakhouse, the kiss, the rolling-out-of-the-driveway car incident, the glass of brandy to calm me down, then the second kiss…then…what the f**k! It had been an incredible night! How could I forget something like that? We had made love for hours!

Darlene! Of course. My accountant, the CPA. Who was more organized than a certified public accountant? Of course, I knew that CPA really stood for Cosmic Planetary Alliance, the largest confederation of planets in the galaxy, but Darlene insisted that the letters related to her business acumen. So, what the hell, let her believe what she wanted if it made her feel better. A gazillion other entities would laugh at her about it, but I wouldn’t bother her with that piece of information right now.

Damn, it takes my mind a while to shift into gear in the mornings! I never realized it before. It must have been a spectacular night to have thrown my memories that far off!

I knew where I was. Of course, I did. We had made love last night, again and again. It had been an incredible night. We couldn’t stop, even when we were both completely sated and out of breath and energy. We kept going…and going…like that pink bunny with the bass drum. But where was Darlene now? Where did she go? Why had she left? And now, more importantly, what happened to my clothes?

Good God! I was naked and alone. What should I do?

I should find my clothes and go home, that’s what I should do. If she couldn’t wait for me to wake up, she must not have had as a good time last night as I thought she did, so I’d better get out of here.

I looked at the floor around the bed and grabbed my clothes from where they’d fallen into a pile last night. I dressed quickly and started down the hallway toward the living room and the front door.

“Joanie? Where are you going?”

I looked back. I was just about to reach for the doorknob. Darlene was standing in the kitchen doorway in a soft, sexy, hunter green, silk robe that clung to her curves like it was filled with magnets. Good Heavens! Even her beautiful golden-brown hair was shiny as it caressed her shoulders. She was tempting…but…she had a giant knife in her hand. Was she threatening me? Had I been that bad?

I said, “I thought you had left.”

“This is my house. Why would I leave?” She gave me a what-the-hell look.

“I thought maybe I had done something last night to turn you off. I thought maybe I snored, or gritted my teeth, or something.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” she said. There was a sexy soft grin on her face again.

“Then why did you walk out on me?” I asked, planting my feet firmly on the floor.

“I didn’t walk out on you. I came out here to make us some breakfast.” She used the chef’s knife to point back into the kitchen.

“Are you kidding me? I get breakfast, too?” I was completely flummoxed. I was out of my depths. I’d never actually been with a woman in her own home the morning after. Well, I had been in a couple, but it was always on a workday or when there was something we had to do right away. I’d been in dorm rooms, hotel rooms, and even my own room at home a time or two, but this was definitely a first for me. I didn’t know what to expect. Was that normal?

Her face broke into a grin. “Yes,” she said. “You get breakfast, too. I think it has something to do with what the Rustkins or Roshins do.”

“You remember them?” I thought she said she didn’t believe in extraterrestrials. I’d only mentioned the Ruskans once, that I remember, and their tradition of closing business deals with food, if they hadn’t killed each other in the transaction settlement.

“Joan Howell. There’s nothing you say that I can ever forget.”

“I didn’t realize last night was a business deal.”

Was she regarding our s****l encounter as business? Yes, it had been quite exhilarating, and we were both still alive, but it wasn’t really what the Ruskans had in mind. They celebrated having s*x in a totally different way, but I wasn’t in a mood to teach her that ritual. I wasn’t even sure I could remember it all. It usually took seven hours to perform.

“Well, we did discuss my handling your stocks and your donations.”

“Oh, right,” I exclaimed. “I was just thinking of the s*x part. I forgot what we discussed before that.”

Darlene shook her head in wonder with the cutest smile. “Now, come in here and sit down at the table. I was going to serve you breakfast in bed, but seeing you’re up…and dressed…”

“I can go back to bed if you want. I don’t want you to change your plans just for me.” I started to unbutton my shirt, but she held her hand out.

Darlene chuckled, her eyebrows raised. “Just for you? Of course, it was just for you. I don’t usually bring my breakfast back into my bedroom.” She held her hand up. “Now, don’t take your clothes off again. Not that I wouldn’t like to see your stunning body once more, but we’re both up and dressed, to some extent…Oh, Joan Howell, you are so out there!”

Out where? I was standing in her living room. I suppose, compared to her kitchen, I could be considered out there. I didn’t know what the hell to say to that. And my stunning body? Yes, I was fit because I spent every day outdoors working on my land and interacting with my animals, but next to Darlene’s? She was trim, too, but not skinny. She had a nice shapely body, but you could tell she had a desk job. Still, it was quite astounding to see her naked, each curve just the right angle and thickness. She was the one with the stunning body, not me.

So I spewed the first thing that came into my mind. “I didn’t say good morning yet.” She looked at me, waiting. “Good morning,” I said as I stepped forward. I was right up in her face. I was close, so very close. I was about to kiss her.

“Good morning to you, too,” she said as she placed a little kiss on my lips.

I was just starting to deepen the kiss when she stepped back. I guess I was too slow.

“Come into the kitchen and sit at the table. Breakfast is almost ready.” She turned and went back to the stove. “Actually, pour yourself a cup of coffee on your way.”

She set the knife down next to a slab of bacon she’d just sliced and placed several bacon strips into a frying pan. It started sizzling immediately.

I turned to her coffee maker and picked up the empty blue mug sitting beside it. “This cup okay?” I asked.

“Yes, that one’s for you.”

“Thanks.”

I poured the cup of coffee and slid over to the table. I sat at a place so I could look out her kitchen window at the beautiful flowers in her garden outside. It was still early spring, but I guess she’d planted some that were grown in a hot house. They looked wonderful for this early. I imagine they’d be thriving when May rolled around.

“About last night…” I started.

“I had a wonderful time,” Darlene said, “from when we sat down at the restaurant until I fell asleep.”

“Really?” That surprised me. I wasn’t sure she enjoyed the beginning of the evening.

“Well, all except for when your car rolled out of the driveway.” She turned to look at me with a concerned look on her face.

“No. That wasn’t fun at all,” I replied.

“But other than that, I really enjoyed last night. Didn’t you?”

I was amazed! She was really saying that? “Well, yes, of course, I did. I had a fabulous time. I enjoyed it even more than last year’s sci-fi cons.”

She sniffed although there was a smile on her face. “Oh, good. I’m more fun than a science fiction convention.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, softly. Good God, I’d have to watch what I say. How could one person compare herself to the thousands that roamed around those things? But I knew she’d never been to one, so how would she know?

She walked over and placed a plate on the table in front of me. “I know. I just love how you express things.”

My mind flashed back to last night. Yes, my car had rolled right out of her driveway and into the street.

* * * *

We had just come back from the restaurant. I had kissed her, and she had gone into the house. What had she thought? I wondered. She’d said the dinner was special. Just the dinner? Not me? Why had she gone out with me, then? Why had she kissed me back, and still not invited me in? What was she thinking? Was she playing a game with me?

I mean, we weren’t really dating. I’d taken her to dinner when she completed my taxes a couple months ago, but she’d been so busy, we hadn’t seen each other since then. She’s said she was tied up until after April 15th. So I had come here yesterday, April 16th and taken her to dinner. I thought we’d had a good time. I’d even talked to her about financial things I’d read in Forbes, The Wall Street Journal, and other financial mags. I’d tried to stay away from anything science fiction. I knew more about that than anything, but she’d said she didn’t believe in extraterrestrials, so rather than get into an argument, I steered our conversation to her things.

Was this a dead end, or did she want me to make the next move? Damn! I’d made the last three next moves. Wasn’t it her turn?

Of course, it was.

I turned the car back on and switched into reverse.

Wait! She still hadn’t said whether she’d handle my investments or not.

I got out of my car and marched up to her door and rang the bell. I waited. As she opened the door, I heard screeching of brakes and car horns blasting.

What the f**k? I turned to see my car out in the street. One car had stopped about an inch before. It would have crashed into me if it hadn’t swerved out of the way.

I ran out there. Two other drivers were already out of their cars, screaming and swearing. One look at me and one of the big men blamed everything on women drivers. If I hadn’t been so confused by the whole thing, I might have punched him out.

I quickly apologized and slammed myself into my car. Should I just back up all the way and go home or pull back into Darlene’s? I didn’t know what I should do. These guys had me totally befuddled. Everyone was yelling at me.

I looked up to see Darlene waving me back into her driveway. Damn! Okay.

I pulled up and stopped the car, turned the engine of, and set the brake with as much force as I could muster.

Darlene came up to my window. “Come inside,” she said softly.

I put my head down to think about it.

“Come on,” she said again, beckoning me to get out of the car. “It’s all right.”

I took a breath and opened my door.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

No, I wasn’t all right. I was embarrassed and confused.

She reached in and took my arm. “Come on. You need to relax. Come in…”

* * * *

That had not been the good part of last night. I probably should have gone home then, but I hadn’t, and, boy, was I glad! Especially this morning.

I stared down into a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, two fried potato wedges, and two slices of toast. The bacon was even the thick cut-it-yourself kind. “Thank you for this, it looks great.”

She smiled as she sat down opposite me with her own plate. “The toast has the cashew apple butter you gave me on it. I’m sorry I don’t have any orange juice, though, or do you start your day with something else?”

“I usually start my mornings with the chickens.”

“You eat chicken for breakfast?”

“No, no, not eating chicken. I start the day sitting with my cup of coffee and talking to the chickens. Hens are very excited and talkative at that time of day. Most have just gotten those eggs out and they’re happy for a while. They’re proud of themselves at that moment, so they like to spend the morning bragging about it. Did you know that Gallusian is a highly evolved language?”

“Gallusian?”

“Yes, chicken language. They’re scientifically the Gallus domesticus. They speak Gallusian.”

“I didn’t know that.” It seemed I heard her say that more and more lately.

“Most people don’t,” I explained. “They start to learn it while they’re still in their shells, just before they hatch. I don’t know for sure, but I suspect it’s the mother telling them how to break out of there, giving them a rousing prod to be born, which is why we have to collect the eggs before they can develop into embryos.”

“Does that mean you are anti-abortion?”

“For chickens, yes, because the mother hens can’t understand what happens. They think they forgot where they laid them. They share the sitting duties, so I guess it’s hard to keep track of which ones are yours. But what also makes sense is, if you gave birth to a new kid every day, sometimes two a day, you’d probably also forget where you left one or two. Having that many kids running around could drive anyone crazy. I mean, can you imagine having over three hundred kids a year?”

“As strange as that seems, it also sounds logical,” Darlene admitted, as she started to eat her breakfast.

“So I collect all the eggs. They’re usually still warm and don’t need to be refrigerated right away. They don’t develop into embryos unless they’re kept at the chicken’s body temperature for eight or nine hours. If you take the eggs away and cool them or at least leave them in a cooler place before ten hours have passed, there’ll be no development.”

“Oh. That’s right, I forget you have a whole menagerie out there.” Darlene took a bite of her toast. “So, what do you usually eat for breakfast?”

“Just coffee, mainly. Occasionally some toast.”

Darlene nodded and we continued to eat.

“I do have a question for you, though,” Darlene said. “I notice you sleep with the blanket up over your face. Do you always do that?”

“Of course!” I had to laugh. Yes, it was a quirk I developed very early in life. “I’m very private when I sleep. I hate people watching me sleep.”

She glared at me as if I were even more un-normal than usual. “But it was just me. I’ve seen just about everything else of yours.”

I shook my head with a little chuckle. “I think it was when my folks told me that Jesus, and Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny were always watching me. I couldn’t imagine all those people looking at me all the time. So, I tried to hide so they couldn’t see me sleep. I started that when I was barely four.”

Darlene looked at me with surprise. “And you’re still doing it thirty-five years later?”

“My mother told me I didn’t have to because she’d always be watching out for me, so I tried it without for a few years, but it still didn’t seem right to have all these folks watching me sleep. When Mom died, I guess, I felt my shield had been shattered so I had to hide again.”

“Do you still believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny?”

“Well, no, but habits die hard.”

“I’m sorry about your mom. When did she die?”

“September sixteenth when I was thirteen. They were going to the Bahamas for their anniversary and the plane crashed in the ocean. There were no survivors.”

“Oh, Sweetie! I’m so sorry!”

“It was a long time ago. I lived with my grandfather after that.”

“Your mother’s father. You mentioned that.”

“That’s what got me into science fiction. He loved Buck Rogers.”

“I think you mentioned that when we first met,” Darlene said with a small smile.

“Exactly. I asked you if you were related to Buck.”

“That right. It was the first time I realized you were into that.”

I remembered. “Did you ever read any of my books?”

“Yes. I’ve actually read two of them. They’re very good. I enjoyed them.”

“Thanks.” I took a bite of the breakfast. “This is really good, too,” I exclaimed. “I didn’t realize you could do eggs this way.”

“Scrambled? Of course you can. How do you usually cook them? Don’t you eat scrambled eggs?”

“No, I mean, yes, I eat them scrambled, but they don’t usually start out that way. And not with all this stuff in them.”

“It’s just cheese and herbs. Don’t you put cheese is them?”

“I usually cook them sunny-side-up…or over-easy. If I break the yolk, then I just stir them up right there in the pan and make them scrambled.” I took another bite. “I sometimes make other things with eggs: boiled or baked.”

“Those are good ways, too. Do you ever poach them?

“Good God, no! I tried poaching once and all I ended up with was some kind of watery egg-drop soup!”

Darlene laughed. “There’s an easy way. If you want to poach an egg, all you have to do is line a cup or small saucer with plastic wrap, crack your egg into it, tie the ends together to make it into a little pouch, and put that in the hot water. It makes the perfect poached egg.”

“That does sound easy. I’ll have to try it sometime.” I took another bite of my breakfast and looked at Darlene with concern. “I don’t know how to use spices like this, though. Unless they’re called for in a recipe, I never think to use them in anything else. I don’t know how much to use.”

“They’re very good in a lot of things. Didn’t you mother ever teach you to use them?”

“I never had time to learn. Food wasn’t that important to me then. It still isn’t.”

We both filled our mouths again and chewed happily, which sort of contradicted what I’d just said. I guess anyone else’s cooking was important to me, just not my own. “Actually making food isn’t that important to me, let me clarify that.” We took another bite.

“Speaking of your chickens, do you have a calendar?”

“Do chickens need to keep calendars?” I didn’t know why she was asking. “Do the hens have that time of month or something that I should be watching for? I didn’t know.”

“No!” Darlene laughed. “I need you to keep a calendar and write down every time you give something away, especially when you give eggs to the Food Bank. Keep track of how many of everything. Do they ever give you a receipt?”

“No. Do I need one? I didn’t know I should ask.”

“It would help. It could save you hundreds of dollars on your taxes. If you’re giving two to three dozen eggs away daily, it will add up.”

That sounded really good to me!

“If you have a record and receipts for all you give them, you can write it off.”

“Okay. I can do that. Do you want me to go back to the beginning of the year?”

“Whatever you can remember. Then you can prepare a receipt and have them sign it. Even a rough estimate would help.”

I thought back. It had been almost sixteen weeks since the beginning of the year. I have more than two dozen chickens and probably got twenty eggs a day from them. That made four hundred and eighty eggs a week. I’d kept about two dozen for myself in all that time and gave approximately sixty-five to Tony’s mom back in March. I’d left sixteen in the nests, so the hens would have something to sit on. “There must have been almost one hundred and seventy-eight dozen I’d given to the Food Bank so far. That’s just an estimate. If I thought back, I could remember exactly how many I brought them each time I went in.”

Darlene was just sitting there staring at me. “Do you remember back that far?”

“Of course.”

She looked at me strangely. “Do you remember everything?”

“Just about. I remember almost everything right away. But if I stop and think back carefully, I can remember it all. My shrink said I had an eidetic memory, that I was memorious. She said there were only about a couple dozen people in the world that could do that…that they know of.”

Darlene looked astounded. “You remember every day?”

I nodded.

“That’s phenomenal. Your doctor was right. Most people don’t!”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Don’t you? You remembered about the Ruskans.”

“Well, most people remember important or strange things that happen, but all the little things go into the mental trash can. Do you remember what happened last week?”

“Which day?”

“Uh…Tuesday.”

“What time?”

“Well, let’s say three in the afternoon.”

“Last Tuesday, mid-afternoon?” I thought back. “I was out in the field hacking down some new bushes that were threatening to take over. You have to watch out for something like that or they’ll become too hard for the animals to digest. Some will even become trees!”

She nodded her understanding.

“Then I sat and talked to Gudi…she’s the prime donkey…for about an hour about what kind of a new building they wanted. Donkeys hate rain. They always hide under trees or whatever they can find when it rains.”

Darlene looked like she’d think about that. “What about Thursday?”

I thought. “I went into town to deliver approximately five dozen eggs and had a nice chat with the guy who cooks there. He was worried that the beans and peas he’d planted out back weren’t going to grow because there was too much rain this year. Then I got gas for my car and went into the grocery store to get pork chops, a bag of frozen peas, some oranges, and potatoes for me and hamburger for Wol. I bought twice as much for him as I usually do because they were having a sale on it. It was only two forty a pound for the high fat one and that’s that Wol loves.

“Then I drove home and did a little research on my computer and gave everybody dinner. Friday, I slept unusually late, had a cup of coffee, did all the chores, then read Forbes magazine until it was almost time to feed the kids again. I paid the last of the bills for this month, and I talked to Beau about his friends in Montana. I had to get in touch with the guy who runs the property that they live on. When I was up there a month ago, he was having a hard time with the reserve. It was getting over filled and over grazed. He was fearful and he worried that he’d have to put down some of the herd. I made an offer to buy ten or so. I wish I could buy more but I don’t have enough land. As it is, if I take the ten, I’ll probably have to clear a few acres for them. So, I did the rest of the chores and I made dinner. I just have vegetables on Fridays. It’s a hold-over from growing up. My mother never made meat on Fridays, which was a hold-over for her growing up. Saturday…”

“Whoa! You remember all of that?”

“It was just last week.”

“Do you remember what you did a month ago last Wednesday?”

I thought for a moment. “The eleventh of March? I was in San Francisco at the sci-fi con. I lectured in the early afternoon. There were a lot more questions than usual. Everyone wanted to know about Wol. Right before that they served a very nice chicken salad for lunch. I may have eaten too much because I had a little indigestion when I was speaking. Luckily, it went away. That night I signed thirty-four autographs.”

“Wait…tell me again who Wol is.”

“He’s the little guy that lives in the tree outside my house. Some people would call him an owl but he’s not particularly fond of that appellation. He’s the one who gave me all the information about his home planet that I used in my last book.”

“All right. I remember now. Okay, and what did you do the week before that?”

Again, I thought back. “I was reading through the editor’s proofs on my next book. Oh! And that was the day Wol complained to me all evening that he might have to go home to his own planet, unless he found a good reason to convince them to let him stay here.”

“You remember everything? Where were you when you found out there was no Santa Claus?”

“There’s no Santa Claus?” I gasped. “What happened to him?”

Darlene looked like she didn’t know whether to think I still believed in Santa or if I was joking with her.

“I know the truth about Santa Claus,” I assured her. “There are too many impostors in all the stores. I was ten and it was the night before Christmas. My mother and father were arranging gifts down under the tree and I walked in and found them. They tried to tell me that Santa was so hurried, he’d asked them to arrange everything for him.” I stopped to chuckle over that memory. “I knew they were lying. I didn’t think Santa would have transported his gifts in Macy’s and Walmart’s bags. I guess it was a very somber Christmas for me. I was happy with the gifts but my whole belief system was shattered. I mean, if there was no Santa Claus, who were they going to nix next? The Easter Bunny?”

Darlene and I laughed with each other.

“What presents did you get that year?”

I thought back. “A pair of boots, a special monopoly game that I’d asked for, some shampoo products, an electronic writing notepad, and my favorite chocolates. Oh, and a new ski jacket.”

“Joan Howell, you are phenomenal. Most people can’t remember what they did yesterday, never mind last week, two months ago, and definitely not thirty years ago, unless it was a major or traumatic event.”

“You don’t think finding out that Santa was a sham was a traumatic event!” She laughed at me.

“Oh,” Darlene said, “people can probably remember something like they got a gorgeous new coat that they loved and wore every day, but they forget the smaller things.”

“I can’t always remember right away, but if I think about it and link it to some other thing near it, I can pull it right up.”

“And you can remember how many eggs you gave away on a specific day?”

“Sure! It shouldn’t be a hassle. Well, if I don’t remember, I expect Tony might.”

“Who’s Tony?”

“He’s the high school kid down the street. He takes care of my place when I’m not there.”

“He takes care of all your animals?”

“He gets on really well with them. The three donkeys; Gudi and her two wives, seem to adore him. Sometimes they won’t give me the time of day, but they always come running over when he visits. Beau likes him a lot, too. They’ll sit and talk all afternoon sometimes.”

“Does he remember everything?”

“No, but he remembers a lot. And he and Beau have a very solid friendship.”

“Do you pay him?”

I looked at her surprised. “Beau?” Beau was a buffalo. Why would he need money? He didn’t even have pockets to keep it in and he never wanted to go shopping with me, either.

“No, Tony.”

That made more sense. “Most of the time. I don’t want him to think I’m using him just because he lives close.”

“Then you can put that on your calendar, too.”

“Good grief! I may as well own a corporation!”

“You do, in reality, albeit a small one. You have an employee and a product. Even though you don’t sell it to get money, your product does have a value when given to a non-profit, like the Food Bank. What you pay Tony can be considered expenses. What you feed your chickens can be written off, as well. We should go through all your receipts from last year, again, too.”

“Oh,” I said. I looked away from her as I sucked through my teeth. “I thought we were done with them.”

“You didn’t throw them away, did you?”

“No! But Beau wanted to understand them, so I left them in his house. He’s probably digested them by now.”

“Well…” Darlene took a deep breath. “See what’s left. You should save receipts for seven years.”

“Seven? That’s a Lucas number.” Lucas series of numbers started one, three, four, seven, eleven, eighteen, twenty-nine, and so forth.

“Will that be a problem for you?”

“Uh…no…no, But I’ll have to write it down, and leave notes for myself to remember it.” I seldom thought in Lucas. I operated on the Fibonacci series: one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen, twenty-one, thirty-four, etc. etc. etc.

“Well, then, save them for eight years.” Darlene sat back to take a breath. “It’s better to have them too long, than throw them out before you should, while you still may need them.”

“Eight years? I can?”

“Of course.”

“That will be easier.” I stuffed the last bite of egg into my mouth.