Still With Me

“And I was so happy you agreed to come. And Dad…”

She interrupted gently. “It’ll take some time. A mother forgives more quickly.”

Jeremy put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. Thomas started to fall asleep.

“I think I’m going to be crazy about him,” she said, watching him doze off.

Victoria appeared in the doorway. Seeing them side by side, she decided to enter.

“I’m so happy to see you two like this.” She winked at Jeremy. “Come on, get up. We’re going to eat lunch,” she sang joyfully.

Jeremy stood up, taking his mother’s hand to help her to her feet. He pulled her close and gave her a big hug. He put his face in her hair and inhaled her perfume. Honesty. Virtue.

During lunch, the atmosphere was deceptively calm. Clotilde still seemed upset. Jeremy and his mother couldn’t stop exchanging quick glances to show how happy they were to be together. Jeremy had a hard time getting interested in his wife and friends’ conversations. Their frequent references to experiences they had shared kept Jeremy at a loss.

After the meal, they sat in the living room. Thomas was the main topic of conversation. By midafternoon, Clotilde complained of a headache and decided to go home. Pierre offered to go with her, but she told him to stay.

“Don’t leave,” she simpered. “It’s your best friend’s birthday, after all.” Then she bid adieu to Victoria and Mrs. Delègue, kissed Jeremy dryly on the cheek, and left.

Mrs. Delègue announced it was time for her to go too. “Your father must be getting impatient…to know…but I’ll come again. Now that I have my son back. And my grandson.”

“You’ll always be welcome, Dad and you.” Jeremy gave her a hug. She drew back to get a better look at his face, patted his cheek, and kissed him in the same spot. Then she turned to Victoria. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.” They embraced warmly.

“May I have a photo of the baby?” Mrs. Delègue asked shyly. “It’ll make my husband happy. I’ll put it on the credenza in the family room. That’s what all grandmothers do, don’t they?”

When she was gone, Victoria approached Jeremy. “Are you happy?” she asked, wrapping her arms around him.

“Yes,” he answered, smiling at Victoria tenderly. “I wanted to see her so much.”

“Can you believe it?” she asked in Pierre’s direction.

From the couch, Pierre scowled. “You’ve been acting weird all morning. First you ask about your parents, and you’re surprised they’re not invited. Then you go after Clotilde in a mean, stupid way. Then you sit in silence the whole meal.”

Jeremy collapsed into the armchair and put his head in his hands. “I lost my memory again.”

Pierre and Victoria looked at him, speechless.

“Are you joking?” Victoria exclaimed.

“No, I don’t remember anything.”

“What do you mean you don’t remember anything?” Pierre asked.

“It’s like last time.” He lifted his head and saw their stony faces.

“When was the last time for you?” Pierre asked.

“If I understand correctly, it was two years ago today.”

“What do you remember since then?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“And before that?”

“I remember everything leading up to my suicide, then the day I had my first…crisis. Nothing between the two. Nothing since then.”

Victoria sank onto the sofa next to Pierre. “Are you serious? You’re not just spouting nonsense to justify your behavior?”