“By mild amnesia, my mother-in-law means I’ve forgotten the past five years.” Alaina tapped her fingernail on her water glass. “Other than that, I’m fine and prefer people not treat me with kid gloves.”
“All right, then,” Barry agreed. “I can understand that—”
Courtney stopped him with another touch to the arm. “It’s just easier if people know what they are dealing with up front. They get a fact pattern and suddenly, they understand how to handle a situation.”
“Spoken like a true lawyer. Give me the facts.” Barry wheezed out a laugh.
Porter’s jaw flexed again. His disapproval of the way his mother had introduced the life-changing accident was more than apparent. Alaina could tell that any second now, he might explode, and that was the last thing she wanted or needed. Not to mention their reactions confused her. What was with all this tension? What was she missing—well, other than five years. So much of her life was confusing.
But right now wasn’t about her. It was about her husband, who was clearly upset. She reached under the table to touch his knee, squeezing lightly until he looked at her. She pleaded with her eyes and somehow he seemed to understand.
Was this what it was like to be married? Was this an almost memory, the way they could communicate without words? It felt good.
“Amnesia, huh,” Barry said between bites of his dinner. “That’s rotten luck, Alaina. I wish you a speedy recovery.”
“Thanks. I’m lucky to have such a great support system here.” It was the most diplomatic answer she could manage. She gave Porter’s knee another quick squeeze of thanks. And then returned her attention to her filet.
From the other end of the room, Thomas erupted in a gut-wrenching cry.
Alaina and Porter both sprang to their feet and rushed to the jungle-themed baby swing. She eased Thomas out and up, cradling him in her arms, rocking him back and forth. He still fussed.
“He’s hungry,” she said, glancing down at her watch. It was definitely dinnertime.
“I’ve got it.” Porter’s murmur was low, almost too soft to hear. Porter left the dining room and jogged into the kitchen. Moments later, he reemerged with a burp cloth and bottle, already a seasoned pro at this dad thing.
How long had they wanted this?
A whispery memory rippled through her mind of her looking at Porter as he held an infant swaddled in blue. But the baby boy wasn’t Thomas—somehow she knew it was the son of Porter’s CFO, the boy who was now a toddler.
Her heart ached to see the longing in his face, and then the memory faded, the rest gone. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and looked at her husband, the man still so new to her now but who had felt so familiar in the memory.
Courtney set her Waterford wineglass down on the table, half rising from her chair to get a better look at them. “Don’t you have a live-in nurse to take care of him, Porter?”
“I just want to make sure I’m there for my son and that he knows who I am.” He tested the milk on his wrist, then handed it to Alaina.
“And you are, Porter.” Courtney dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “But you hired help. So let them help. You don’t need to hover. I certainly never hovered over you and I was a single parent. I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Not when it comes to my grandson.”
“I appreciate that, Mother.” Porter’s tone was level as if he knew to keep it calm for his son, although the set of his broad shoulders made it clear his patience with his mother was nearing an end. “But I think a mix of help and hands-on work is best. Besides, we won’t use the help forever. That’s just until we’ve settled back into a routine.”
So he had been serious when he’d said the night nurse was a component of her recovery. He was sincere about being a fully involved parent. She admired that. Wanted to be part of that unit. Thomas deserved that dedication from both of them.
His mom’s counter came within seconds. “That’s where I think you might be wrong. I think the full-time help is wonderful. It really expands what you can do at the company. You know he’s in good hands. And you can work more, grow the empire and make sure he has whatever he wants in his life.”
Alaina assumed her mother-in-law’s advice was coming from a good place. But it seemed more than a tad controlling. She admired Porter’s restraint in not calling out his mom on that and wondered if he was holding back to keep things peaceful, not just for Thomas, but for Alaina, too.
Maybe this had been why she and her mother-in-law hadn’t gotten along before the amnesia. She didn’t need her memories to clue her in on that.
She just resented the way Porter’s and his mother’s issues were intruding on what had been the best day Alaina could remember having with her husband, when there were precious few to remember.
In spite of knowing there was so much of her life left to uncover, she found herself wanting more of those new memories.
* * *
He closed the door behind his mother. Finally. And not soon enough.
He’d known this was a bad idea, having his mom here for Christmas. She hadn’t ever been the home and hearth for the holidays sort, and she certainly hadn’t got along with Alaina. This wasn’t the joyous, peaceful atmosphere he’d been attempting to create with his wife. This evening was a prime example. His day with Alaina had been derailed by that damn awkward dinner.
At least Courtney was out for the evening with Barry the tax attorney. Just like that, she’d become the mother of his youth. The one who was interested in men more than family. The one who put boyfriends first.
Alaina’s misfortune was that she couldn’t remember a thing. His great curse was that he couldn’t forget a single damn moment. What a pair they made.
Cricking his neck to the side, he strode to his office computer and uploaded some videos of their Tallahassee house onto a disc for Alaina so she could see where they’d lived. Maybe that would jostle a memory. And maybe she would see her own stamp on their life in a way she hadn’t here.
He was struck by the irony. Even with streaming music, some people still made music mixes on CDs as a gift, full of “their songs.” Not him. But then he wasn’t sure she would even like the same music anymore. His whole life felt upside down lately.
He thought all he’d wanted was the family he’d dreamed of having, but in getting to know Alaina again, seeing her in a new way after the accident, his feelings were mixed up.
Even his mother’s behavior tonight had rocked him. It’s not that he minded that she had a new beau. She was a grown-up, after all. But it brought the weight of his past crashing down on him.
Needing to calm himself, Porter made his way to Thomas’s nursery. Seeing his son was a way to remind himself that this was not the past. That he was going to be an active part of his son’s life. That he was making the family he’d always wanted.
Porter had never lacked material objects as a child. His mother was a brilliant attorney and made a decent salary.
But he had been profoundly lonely. And he never wanted Thomas to experience that. Never wanted him to feel as if he wasn’t welcome, as if he wasn’t wanted.
Courtney had chased love for Porter’s whole life. Moving from man to man. Men who seldom bothered to learn Porter’s name, always settling on the generic “sport” or “son.” Nameless. Invisible.
He’d attended an elite boarding school from middle school through high school. He was home for three weeks over Christmas and two months over the summer.
It was common