her.
Jeremy frowned.
She was his mother. She was also Annabelle. His head throbbed as he struggled to make those two facts, the two sets of memories he held, compatible with one another.
His mother saw the stages of Jeremy’s confusion play across his face but said nothing.
Another thready pulse of pain, only a minor irritation, and Jeremy shelved the problem. He poured himself a glass of milk from the carafe in the fridge and sat down at the table. In addition to the food his mother had listed, there was also sliced ham on a large plate, each sliver the size of Jeremy’s hand.
“Wow, Mom, you made way too much food for just the four of us.”
“The two of us, actually.” His mother glanced at the door with a look of irritation. “Your father watched over you while you slept, but he was on his way right back to the city at the first light of day. He promised that it would only be for the morning, to finish the business meeting that was interrupted yesterday. He’ll be back by this afternoon,” she said, wearing her best smile for him.
If memory served him, he knew now that the cheer was false. Jeremy wasn’t fooled. But he could still beg ignorance, for his mother’s sake. He smiled in return as he sliced his stack of pancakes into quarters.
“You said the two of us. What about Ellie?” he asked.
His mother shook her head. “Wild child, that one. I’ve been trying to get her inside, but she’d rather get her hands and knees dirty chasing after rabbits.”
Jeremy shrugged. “Her loss, more for me,” he said, spearing a healthy portion of ham with his fork and depositing it on his plate. He ate like a ravenous wolf. He had never consumed as much in his life as he did that morning. The stack of pancakes, buttered and drowned in syrup, hardly made a dent in his appetite. The slices of ham, a half dozen total and each slice as thick as his pinky finger, brought his hunger down to a level approaching “gnawing”. He followed the first tall glass of milk with an equal amount of orange juice. His thirst slaked, he scooped up the scrambled eggs with his pieces of toast and put them down with bites of prodigious size.
His mother smiled and filled her plate with a quarter as much food. “Easy, Jay, don’t forget to chew.” She regarded him a moment. “Or breathe.”
Jeremy attempted to respond, stuffing food into his cheeks to make room for his mouth to work. It was completely unintelligible.
“Mum,” he finally managed. It came out British-sounding by accident, by virtue of the food still in his mouth. “How did you manage to make—well, everything —taste so good?”
“Why, thank you, sweetheart. But it helps when the person eating it has been knocked on the head first.” Her eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
“I’m feeling much better now,” he said, smiling. He looked outside for a moment; Ellie ran past the window, giggling, followed closely by a small, red-furred squirrel. Jeremy’s eyes returned to meet his mother’s. “Mom, I’m curious how you and Dad met.”
“Really?” she asked. “Surely we’ve mentioned it to you before, when you were younger. You probably just forgot.”
He frowned and reflected, searching his memories. His father’s recollections threatened to crowd out his own, though, and he struggled to find an original memory of his that told of his parents’ first meeting.
“It’s okay if you forgot,” his mother interjected, “I don’t mind talking about it.” A small smile fluttered on her lips. “Your father was a very charismatic man when he was younger. Very charming. The two of us went to university together, as you know, though he was two years ahead of me.” She pursed her lips in concentration. “It was the end of November, I remember. All of us were preparing for our end-of-term exams. And your father, well, he was in his senior year and already had a job lined up after graduation. It didn’t
Jeremy frowned.
She was his mother. She was also Annabelle. His head throbbed as he struggled to make those two facts, the two sets of memories he held, compatible with one another.
His mother saw the stages of Jeremy’s confusion play across his face but said nothing.
Another thready pulse of pain, only a minor irritation, and Jeremy shelved the problem. He poured himself a glass of milk from the carafe in the fridge and sat down at the table. In addition to the food his mother had listed, there was also sliced ham on a large plate, each sliver the size of Jeremy’s hand.
“Wow, Mom, you made way too much food for just the four of us.”
“The two of us, actually.” His mother glanced at the door with a look of irritation. “Your father watched over you while you slept, but he was on his way right back to the city at the first light of day. He promised that it would only be for the morning, to finish the business meeting that was interrupted yesterday. He’ll be back by this afternoon,” she said, wearing her best smile for him.
If memory served him, he knew now that the cheer was false. Jeremy wasn’t fooled. But he could still beg ignorance, for his mother’s sake. He smiled in return as he sliced his stack of pancakes into quarters.
“You said the two of us. What about Ellie?” he asked.
His mother shook her head. “Wild child, that one. I’ve been trying to get her inside, but she’d rather get her hands and knees dirty chasing after rabbits.”
Jeremy shrugged. “Her loss, more for me,” he said, spearing a healthy portion of ham with his fork and depositing it on his plate. He ate like a ravenous wolf. He had never consumed as much in his life as he did that morning. The stack of pancakes, buttered and drowned in syrup, hardly made a dent in his appetite. The slices of ham, a half dozen total and each slice as thick as his pinky finger, brought his hunger down to a level approaching “gnawing”. He followed the first tall glass of milk with an equal amount of orange juice. His thirst slaked, he scooped up the scrambled eggs with his pieces of toast and put them down with bites of prodigious size.
His mother smiled and filled her plate with a quarter as much food. “Easy, Jay, don’t forget to chew.” She regarded him a moment. “Or breathe.”
Jeremy attempted to respond, stuffing food into his cheeks to make room for his mouth to work. It was completely unintelligible.
“Mum,” he finally managed. It came out British-sounding by accident, by virtue of the food still in his mouth. “How did you manage to make—well, everything —taste so good?”
“Why, thank you, sweetheart. But it helps when the person eating it has been knocked on the head first.” Her eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
“I’m feeling much better now,” he said, smiling. He looked outside for a moment; Ellie ran past the window, giggling, followed closely by a small, red-furred squirrel. Jeremy’s eyes returned to meet his mother’s. “Mom, I’m curious how you and Dad met.”
“Really?” she asked. “Surely we’ve mentioned it to you before, when you were younger. You probably just forgot.”
He frowned and reflected, searching his memories. His father’s recollections threatened to crowd out his own, though, and he struggled to find an original memory of his that told of his parents’ first meeting.
“It’s okay if you forgot,” his mother interjected, “I don’t mind talking about it.” A small smile fluttered on her lips. “Your father was a very charismatic man when he was younger. Very charming. The two of us went to university together, as you know, though he was two years ahead of me.” She pursed her lips in concentration. “It was the end of November, I remember. All of us were preparing for our end-of-term exams. And your father, well, he was in his senior year and already had a job lined up after graduation. It didn’t
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