The Forgetting Place Read Online Free Page A

she was sitting still, I would slide up beside her and put my head on her lap. On good days, her fingers would absently stroke the hair on the side of my head, looping a blond lock around the soft curve of my ear, and during those moments I would feel that we were somehow closer. But just as often her hand would lie motionless in her lap, as if the weight of my head on her thigh was causing her some unseen discomfort that she was too stoic to mention, and after a while I would move away, ashamed of my own neediness, and leave her to her thoughts, the retreating tread of my footsteps nearly silent on the thick carpeting of our lifeless house. I would don my sneakers and ease out the front door, closing it gently behind me as if somewhere in the house lay a sleeping infant who must not be roused. I would go down to the creek, picking my way through the twist of underbrush, the sticker bushes slashing at the tan flesh of my calves and ankles, leaving bloody scratches that I wouldn’t notice until my evening bath. And when I’d come to my private spot in the woods, I would throw jagged little stones at the trees until my arm ached with the repetitive effort and the hollow place inside of me hurt just a little less.

Chapter 7
    T he next morning, the earth was strewn with debris from the windstorm the night before. An audience of trees looked down on severed limbs cast about the ground, their hunched and beaten postures reminding me of a congregation of amputees gathered in the wake of a war.
    I usually stop at Allison’s Bakery for a cup of coffee on my way to work. It’s along my walking route and the place always smells like a blend of coffee beans and cinnamon. They offer an assortment of fresh baked muffins and pastries as well, but lately I’ve been sticking to just coffee. I’m thirty-three, and my body hasn’t yet begun the first turn of its downward spiral, but I can feel it wanting to, feel my metabolism beginning to slow, my joints becoming less limber than they once were. I was too thin in college, and the five pounds I’ve put on since then suits me well, but I wouldn’t want it to go any further. The body will take certain liberties if it thinks no one is watching.
    â€œMorning, Lise,” Amber greeted me as I stepped to the counter. She was the proprietor’s niece and had been working there as long as I’d been coming. Her hair, long and straight, reflected the morning sunlight streaming through the shop’s large frontwindow, which I noted had sustained an unsightly crack in the left upper corner since the day before.
    I tilted my head toward the window. “Looks like you took on some damage last night.”
    Amber nodded. “Something big must’ve hit it.” She turned to pull a cup from the stack behind her and began filling it with my usual. “Glad it didn’t shatter completely.”
    â€œInsurance should cover it, I’d imagine.” I wrapped my palms around the outside of the brown paper cup she placed on the counter in front of me, indulging myself in its warmth. Two men in suits, occupying one of the shop’s few tables, glanced at us over their morning newspapers.
    â€œI guess,” Amber replied. “I haven’t called Allison about it yet. Figure I’ll let her sleep another hour before giving her the bad news.” She produced a small paper cup from behind the counter. “Here, try these,” she said. “We just got them in last week.”
    Inside were two chocolate-covered almonds. I tilted the cup to my lips and let one slide into my mouth. “Why do you tempt me with these things?” I asked, shaking my head. Amber smiled and gave me a wink as she watched me down the second one.
    I heard a bell chime, and three more people entered through the front door. They looked haggard, caffeine junkies here for their fix.
    â€œHave a good one,” I said, handing the small paper cup back to Amber,