Chapter Eight

"The cemetery...?" Tammy was confused for a second. When realization hit, she gasped at the shock of it. "My father's buried there. Isn't he?" She could only stare at the man who continued to look directly ahead. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles shown white against his skin.

Her first inclination was to run, to get as far away as she could. But she couldn't. This was real. This was her life, and she had to face it. Clenching her fists tightly in her lap, she turned to look out the windshield, her face as expressionless as David's had been.

"Can I get some flowers? He would like that." Her words were spoken softly. Once she began though, she couldn't seem to stop. "Did you know that he liked to garden? Peonies were his favorites. He used to plant them for mom. Mom liked them a lot, too."

David relaxed his grip, and reached over to place one of his hands over hers. "Of course we can get some flowers," he told her.

Tammy simply nodded, no longer trusting her voice. They rode in silence until they reached Elaine's condo.

Elaine's condo was located in a newly developed section of town and was decorated with contemporary furnishings mingled with a few familiar items from their family home. The overall effect, though, was so completely different that Tammy found herself wandering through her mother's home, feeling a complete stranger. All the good intentions she had tried to develop during the drive were quickly melting away.

Elaine kept a running dialogue, explaining which items that Tammy herself had helped her pick out. Tammy remembered none of it. She wanted none of it. She wanted only to get out and run until she found something that she could recognize as her own. Eventually after receiving only monosyllabic responses, Elaine gave up. Tammy didn't miss the tense look she shared with David.

When David then turned toward her, she knew the words he was about to say. Her eyes implored him not to say it. He opened his mouth, and then closed it, seeming to fight some internal battle. Before Tammy could think what that meant, Elaine approached her and took her hand.

"Come on, honey," she said. "It's time to go." Tammy followed her mother out of the apartment. She maintained her silence until they got into the car.

"Mom, I just don't think I'm ready for this," she pleaded, panic rising. "Maybe in a w-week or two I c-could come back. I'm just not ready right now."

Elaine responded calmly. "Honey, David and I have discussed this already. We feel that it is necessary for you if you are to get on with the rest of your lives together."

"You?!" Tammy cried. "You discussed it? What about me? What about what I want?"

"Tammy?" David spoke consolingly from the driver's seat.

"This was probably your idea," Tammy spat at him, panic, fear and anger mingling within her. She wanted to hurt him like she was hurting and she hated herself for it. "You don't care about me," she accused. "You just want to control me, make me into some person that you prefer. Maybe I don't remember because it was too horrible and I don't want to remember it."

"Tammy!" Elaine rebuked her.

"You've already got her!" Tammy went on, ignoring her mother. "Must you take everything? I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

David tightened his grip on the steering wheel and ground out a question to Elaine, "How much further?"

Elaine saw his agitation. "Only about a mile on the right," she assured him, then turned back to Tammy. She reached out and placed a tentative hand on her leg. "It was my idea, Honey. David only wants what is best for you."

"Mom, you don't have to take up for him," Tammy said mournfully. Then, defeated, "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters." Turning away from them both, she leaned her head against the side window and let its coolness seep into her skin.

All too soon, David stopped the car. Resolutely, Tammy picked up her flowers and got out of the car. The cemetary was bordered by a wooded area where the trees were changing colors for the fall season. The lovely oranges, browns, reds, yellows and greens which painted the landscape seemed at odds with the task she was set to perform.

David watched as Elaine led Tammy to the correct spot. He didn't know what he would have done had she fought them. He didn't think he could physically force her, no matter what Elaine or the doctors said. Remaining at a discreet distance, he found himself considering the things she had said in the car.

She had been angry. She didn't mean the things that she had said. Tammy didn't hate anyone. She was just lost and alone, and she needed his help. He would be strong for her. He would take care of her. Right now that meant allowing her to be alone with her mother, so he watched from a distance.

For hours the two women sat on the ground near the site and talked. They talked and cried and embraced. After a time, David wandered back to the car and began to plan. There were so many places he could take her. The plant, for one. That was where they had first meet, so it would be at the top of his list. And the crossroads, definitely the crossroads. By the time the girls arrived back to the car, David had planned two weeks worth of activities with the express purpose of helping his wife regain her memory.

The mood in the car was understandably subdued, but there had been a deepening of the bond between the two women. David glanced at Elaine in askance, and she smiled at him.

During the drive home, David found himself with only the radio and his own thoughts for company. Tammy, in the back seat, had fallen asleep even before he'd returned Elaine to her condo. He had left her there, thinking that after all that she had endured in the past few days that she was bound to be exhausted.

When he pulled the car into the driveway at their home, still she slept, but it appeared as if she were dreaming. Her brow furrowed and she made small whimpering sounds in the back of her throat.

"Tammy," he called her name and gently touched her shoulder. She jerked violently awake, her eyes filled with fear.

"Tammy? What is it?"

"Nothing," she shook her head. "Bad dream."

David nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," was her too quick reply. "I've forgotten it already."

"Okay," David said, deciding to drop it. "How do you feel about dinner. Would you like to go out and eat? I'm trying to save you from my cooking as long as possible."

Tammy looked at him hesitantly. "David...I..."

David smiled at her, coaxing. "There's a really great Italian restaurant that you might like," he said. She didn't need to know that he had an ulterior motive in taking her there, or that he would be taking her to the restaurant where he'd proposed. "It's called La Lira, and I hear they have wonderful seafood linguini."

She took only a few moments to think about it. "All right. Just let me get cleaned up first, though. I feel really grungy."

~*~

Tammy thoroughly enjoyed the food and service at La Lira, as well as David's company. By the time desert arrived he had told her more stories about herself than even Elaine told. Though none of the events was familiar, David's storytelling held the ring of truth. It seemed that they must have had a happy marriage. He spoke of the good times fondly, making Tammy want to just give in and accept him for all that he said he was. But she held back. She just couldn't let go of the idea that she couldn't know him if she didn't know herself. There was one item, though, that she felt she needed to take care of.

"I should apologize for those horrible things I said to you in the car."

David simply nodded it away. "I understood that it was a difficult situation for you. We all say things we don't mean at some time or other. Don't let it bother you."

"You've been very kind to me," Tammy said, looking at her hands. "I shouldn't treat you the way I have."

"No more worrying about that, remember?" David insisted. "All I want is for you to get your memory back."

Tammy frowned at that, wondering why that statement frightened her.

"Don't you want to remember?" David asked.

"I do want to feel whole again," she said. "I just... It's scary, that's all."

"I want you to be whole again, too, and I'll help you in any way I can."

His assurances still left her uncertain. What if the things that were frightening her where things that he couldn't help her with? What if somehow he were the cause of those things?

~*~

David allowed Tammy to enter their home before him. "I'm am beyond ready for bed," he said as soon as he closed to door. He took a look at her pale features, and asked, "Care to join me? You look like you could use to rest, too."

Tammy didn't return his look, but simply continued further into the house. "No, I'm not really tired, yet. I think I'll watch television for a bit."

"You're more than welcome to watch upstairs in our bedroom," David offered. It would be nice to have her close to him. "It won't bother me at all. You always said I could sleep through a tornado." He smiled at her, and then headed up the stairs.

He was half-way through undressing when Tammy entered their bedroom. Her eyes drifted to his bare chest, and then she immediately averted her eyes.

"Uh, where are my night things?" she asked.

"Not that you ever wore them much," he said with a smile, "But they're in that drawer over there." He pointed to one of the drawers built into the bedside.

"Thank you," she said softly, moving hesitantly toward the drawer in which he'd directed.

David frowned. "Is something wrong?" She was acting as if they hadn't just spent two very enjoyable hours in one another's company. Tammy wouldn't look at him.

"I think I'd rather watch television downstairs," she said.

"Why he asked," taking a step toward her. "Tell me what's wrong."

She jerked back, cringing between the bedside and the wall. "Really... It's nothing," she insisted, looking up at him finally. It was then that realization hit for David.

He was a tall man, and Tammy was a small woman. She probably felt cornered, and judging from the way she avoiding looking at his body, she probably felt uncomfortable that he was dressed only in his breifs.

He sighed and backed up a few steps. "Tammy, we've been married for six months. I'm so used to undressing in front of you that I didn't think anything of it." He said the words gently, hoping to ease her fears. "We are not strangers, you know."

"But we are strangers," Tammy assured him of her opinion on the matter. "And because of that, I think that I should sleep in the guest room downstairs."

David blinked. "No." She had no reason to be afraid of him. She had to learn that.

"No?" she asked, incredulously. At least the fear was leaving her eyes, being quickly replaced by anger.

"No," David repeated. "You are my wife, and here is where my wife sleeps. Beside me. You may not remember that, but I do."

"I have the right to sleep where I want to," Tammy told him in no uncertain terms. "And you can't stop me."

David's jaw stiffened, "I said no, Tammy. You are my wife, and you will sleep here." He took a few steps closer, this time intentionally intimidating her with his size.

Tammy held her ground. "No, David. I'm a person first, and you can't change that. Besides, I think you've made enough painful decisions for me this day."

David drew in a pained breath. "Tammy, I only want what's best for you because I love you and you love me. That's all that matters. That's why you have to stay here. It will help us get our lives back on track."

"Our lives?" Tammy shot back at him. "It's my life that's messed up! I'm not the wife who you remember anymore. I am Tam Veneze. I don't love you, I don't even know you!"

David closed his eyes, backed away. "You win," he said. "Sleep where you want." Without another word he climbed into the bed and buried himself beneath the covers.