Late September 2016

Street lamps cast a glow into my dark bedroom, shadows of rain drops covered the wall, sliding down the window outside. I was grateful for the rain on nights I couldn't sleep, which was most.

Eerie silence at night isn't the sort of background I'd prefer to ponder to.

I pondered how strange it was to be at the age of twenty eight and have a past of expansive nothingness. No memories of the past six years. I was forever reminding myself that I was no longer in college, no longer working towards a degree in marketing and communications.

My fists bunched and pressed down on my lids, anger and resentment coursing through me again.

Sadie told me I'm qualified, I graduated. I'm good at my job. I haven't been back to work but the neurologist told me facts are what I was missing. Not skills. Whenever I'm ready, I can go back to the office, not just a cubicle, an actual office with my name on the door.

I might've known how to do my job, but I didn't remember the people I worked with or the clients I'd signed. It made the thought of returning, daunting.

Sadie told me there was a man in my life too. A new one. He'd been there the night of the injury. But in terms of what happened, the details are vague. A casualty of carelessness, a simple accident that no one could've predicted would lead to such dire consequences.

Rolling over to face the window, I watched the rain pelting the glass, the tree outside of Sadie's townhouse was blown back and forth, the pillow under my head cushioned the now healed bump. Just a bump. One that hurt, sure, but didn't seem like the sort of injury that could wipe me clean.

My mind, who I am, gone. I'd been reset, as Sadie liked to call it.

A scan revealed a severe lack of blood going to the right frontal lobe of my brain, giving me a moderate case of retrograde amnesia. Some people come back from it, some people don't. There's no known cure, so for now, I'm re learning who I am in the hopes that it'll return to me soon.

Someone asked me how I am today, at a coffee store when Sadie ordered for me. An iced long black, pump of caramel and oat milk. She said it's my favorite.

I hated it.

Anyway, the barista smiled at me, that customer service smile. The one where she's good at acting interested but my answer is irrelevant.

"Well, I haven't showered in two days. I can't eat. Sadie tells me I'm a vegan but as far as I remember, I love cheeseburgers. My hair is a mess, my mind is both keeping me locked out and locked in. I can't stop sifting, hoping to find a memory but it's all behind a closed door and not having the fucking key is sending me into a spiral."

I couldn't say any of that out loud though. You can't be that honest with people.

I am— was a barista in college. The staff never fail to have a good laugh at the over sharers after they walk out, naively relieved at venting to someone who 'wanted' to listen.

Sitting up, I leaned against the head board and stared at the wall, shadows of rain drops rolled over the various frames and plants. It was a beautiful room. Full of greenery and books. Sadie told me I helped her design the interior of her town house. A passion project, not a career. She'd told me that with some vehemence in her tone.

My dorm room didn't look like this. It was covered in canvas art and soft pink netting. Six years can make so much difference. The phones can do things I never imagined, the fashion is going back in time, the music is raunchier and the girls are stronger.

It's a different world and I feel like a twenty two year old girl. Not a twenty eight year old woman.

Sadie told me the clothes I own are high end, expensive. I do well. I'm grateful for the life I'm living, I just wish I didn't feel like such an imposter living it.

       Sadie's divorced. Which is weird because her and her ex husband, Jason, were madly in love with each other six weeks ago. Except it wasn't six weeks ago. And now she can't stand him. Just like that.

Sitting at the breakfast bar with an almond milk hot chocolate the next morning, which I didn't love, I watched them being civil in front of their daughter, Lottie.

It was frustrating, not being able to process how much they've been through, when it felt like they'd just started dating.

An entire life time of love, a child, marriage, distance, resentment, cheating, divorce.

I moved in with her after the split eleven months ago. Apparently I wanted to be around to help her with Lottie and be there for her when she needed me.

I have an apartment in South Granville, five ish minutes from Sadie's apartment in Kerrisdale. It isn't a huge distance, I don't know why I decided I needed to move in here full time.

"She has an art project due on Friday," Sadie told Jason, keeping her tone civil for Lottie's sake. The decision to behave politely in front of their daughter was mutual. Neither of them wanted her to feel the tension.

"An art project?" Jason ran his fingers through Lottie's pin straight black hair while she stood next to him, waiting to leave. "She's five. What sort of art projects are they handing out at five?"

"It's just a collage sort of thing. With painted hand prints and some facts about herself for the teacher to hang in the classroom."

"You couldn't have done it?"

"You're into all of that crafting sort of stuff," Sadie waved a flippant hand at him and I could hear the bitterness seeping into her tone. "Besides, I know how much you love a side project."

Jason dropped his shoulders, giving her a look I might've deciphered if I knew him better. It's almost like boredom but his eyes darkened with pain.

I shouldn't feel bad for him. He had an affair. Or a one night stand. There's a difference, I suppose but it hurts none the less. As much as Sadie told me what happened and what it did to her, I don't remember witnessing the after math first hand.

All I could see now was a man who missed his wife and child. It was another mind fuck that I couldn't seem to process properly.

Jason let the insult slide and said, "you literally scrapbook as a hobby, Sadie."

"Fine, look, she wants to focus on facts about her Korean heritage," she said, which seemed to lift the frown off Jason's mouth. "I thought it'd be best for you to take the lead on that one, being your culture. It's a bonding experience and she asked to work on it with you."

"Of course," Jason said, looking at Lottie who smiled back at him.

She was a quiet girl, never much to say but she always had something to do, drawing, colouring, moulding clay or gluing googley eyes onto her mom's framed photos in the halls.

I liked that one, it always cracked me up when I walked past a portrait of Sadie and I to find we had enormous eyes. It'd been three weeks since the injury and Sadie had changed four photo frames in that time. She never told Lottie off, she didn't want to squash any part of her creative spirit.

Jason gestured at the front entrance. "Should we head off sweetheart?"

Lottie nodded and Sadie watched Jason, letting her cool countenance slip for a moment, revealing a pang of heartbreak.

The two have been separated for eleven months and every Sunday, when he shows up for his week with Lottie, he asks if he can have the chance to repair what he broke.

Lottie looked at me before she left, her big brown stare piercing me with accusations of betrayal. I'm supposed to be her best friend and the fact that I don't remember her, has broken her heart.

"Bye, Aunt Kins."

I mustered up as much adoration as I could. "Have a good week, Lottie. I'll miss you."

She looked like she didn't believe me. The guilt was tremendous. We had a good relationship before the injury. We were close and I loved that little girl. I know that in time, we can reform that connection but right now, she's a stranger and I don't know how to convince her that despite my memory, I care about her. She's my niece.

Sadie walked them to the door, I hung back in the kitchen, sitting at the long breakfast bar, but I could hear Jason's voice echo in the foyer.

"Can I do some repairs, Sadie? Can I fix what I broke?"

Sadie didn't usually answer, she kissed Lottie and told her she'd see her next Sunday. But this week was different and I paused the mug half way to my mouth when she responded.

"Fixing what you broke doesn't mean it will ever be the same again, Jason. Glue doesn't hide the cracks. It just holds the fragile pieces together until the next bump shatters it again."

Damn, Sadie.

"What do you want to fix, daddy?" Lottie asked.

"Something priceless, baby," he responded, his voice just above a whisper. "Say goodbye to mom."

The goodbyes commenced. The week on, week off arrangement had been going on for a few months and seemed to be working well. It was the only way they could both have a weekend to themselves and an equal amount of one on one time with Lottie. No arrangement would ever be perfect but this one was working. 

When Sadie came back into the kitchen, our eyes met over the top of my mug and I grinned.

"That was a poetic response to his fix it question."

Sadie slid into the egg chair hanging in the corner of the room and sighed. "I've been rehearsing it. How pathetic is that?"

"That's not pathetic. You had something to say and you executed it perfectly."

She slapped her hands over her face and peeked at me through her fingers. "It was kind of cheesy, right?"

"Who cares?" I finished off the hot chocolate and swiveled on the bar stool. "Does he have a hope?"

"At what?"

"Fixing it?"

Her brows pulled. "No. He slept with another woman. I don't care if it was once and he told me and he felt bad. He did it. The trust is gone. It's over."

"Some couples get through it?"

Sadie stared at me, the side of her lip lifted in a sarcastic sneer. "You literally slapped him across the face when you found out and told me if I ever forgave him I was pathetic."

"I said that?"

"Yes."

It made sense I suppose. As hard as it was to watch this man, someone who I could only remember adoring my sister, grovel for his family back every week, cheating wasn't something I'd ever condoned.

"Anyway, we're going out tonight," Sadie ran a hand over the leaf of her monstera plant, not looking at me to deliver the news of these apparent plans.

"Where? To do what?"

"To watch a preseason game at Roger's Arena. Canucks verse Flames. Hmmm? You love hockey."

That wasn't something she had to tell me. I'd loved Hockey from the time I was a kid. Dad took us to all of the big games. The little ones. The Stanley cup and the college games. When Sadie and I were eleven, he bought us a season pass for Christmas. It was the best gift I'd ever received.

I was grateful for the memories. I never knew how easy it was to take that sort of thing for granted. It made me want to slip off into the past. To do nothing else but chase nostalgia, simply because I could.

"You up for it?" Sadie asked, bringing me back to the present.

"Yeah," I said, surprised at how eager I was to get out of the house.

"By the way," Sadie said, getting out of her chair. "We wear red now."

I stared at her.

"I know, I know. Trust me. You won't find a scrap of blue in your merch collection though. It's all red."

My heart sped up. That wasn't a big deal but but in terms of self identity, supporting the Canucks was something I'd done for better or worse. We'd grown up in Vancouver, lived here our entire lives and even when they went through a period of loss because their goalie couldn't get his shit together, we didn't waiver.

And now I was a Flame's fan?

Every new piece of information I learned about who I am and who I'd become in the last six years, added a new tier of confusion to the tower I was building. Soon it was all going to crumble down.

〰️

How are we feeling so far? Also, please know that everything I've learned about hockey, has happened by watching as many highlights on YouTube as I can and asking my nearest and dearest Ashley_Mariex so if I get a detail wrong, forgive me !