Free Forget to Remember by Alan Cook

a
two-story affair, made of wood and painted brown with lots of
glass. They parked in a wide area in front of the two-car garage
beside two other cars. Rose indicated one of them. “That’s Mr.
Vigiano’s car.”
    Carol started to feel anxious for the first
time today. She hadn’t expected to meet Mrs. Horton so soon. Her
fate might be decided in the next few minutes. She was suffering
from the effects of flying all day in an enclosed cabin that was
probably oxygen deprived. Events took on an unreal quality,
something she’d felt a number of times since awakening from her
coma. She wasn’t ready for this, but what choice did she have?
    As they got out of the car a beautiful
yellow dog came bounding up, barking. It seemed friendly enough,
however. Carol let it sniff her hand and gave it a tentative pat on
the head. The dog picked up a tennis ball that was lying on the
ground and dropped it at her feet. Realizing what it wanted, she
picked up the ball and threw it. The dog went running after it. She
looked at her hand in disgust; it was covered with the slime of the
dog’s saliva.
    She forced herself to follow Rose along the
narrow sidewalk that fronted the house, to a flagstone patio and
glass-covered front door. A dark-skinned woman with her hair in a
bun and a beaming smile opened the door as they approached. “You’re
just in time. Dinner’s almost ready. Mr. Vigiano’s already here.
I’m Audrey.”
    They said hello to Audrey. The dog had
followed them. “That’s Butch. He just wants to play ball. Not now,
Butch.” She shooed him away and escorted them into the next
room.
    A man and a woman were sitting at a table
beside the kitchen counter. The man must be Paul Vigiano. He rose
from his chair and reached out his hand to Carol. “Hi, Carol. I’m
glad you got here okay.”
    Carol muttered an apology for having a slimy
hand and fumbled for a tissue in her small purse to wipe it off,
trying to hide her embarrassment. Then she shook his hand and
murmured something about being glad to meet him. He was in his
forties, dressed in an expensive blue suit with a nice looking red
tie. His nose and ears were too large, and his light brown hair was
thinning in front, but aside from being slightly overweight he
wasn’t in bad shape.
    He moved out of the way so Carol could see
Elizabeth Horton. She sat with her back ramrod straight, appraising
Carol through rimless glasses with eyes that probably didn’t miss
anything. Her hair was short and gray but well cared for; the
clothes she wore were neat and had been stylish once.
    “Excuse me for not getting up. I don’t get
around quite as fast as I used to.” Mrs. Horton indicated a cane
leaning against the chair beside her. “I see you met Butch, my
Labrador Retriever. He’s just a pup. If he wanted to play ball with
you, that means he likes you. Let me look at you.” She continued to
appraise Carol.
    Carol needed to say something. “It’s nice to
meet you, Mrs. Horton. Thank you for inviting me here.” Mrs. Horton
didn’t offer to shake hands, so Carol kept hers at her side. She
felt self-conscious, having Mrs. Horton stare at her, but she found
she didn’t mind it. She was glad she had worn slacks for the plane
ride rather than a short skirt. Mrs. Horton was of a generation
that didn’t always approve of the clothing choices of young
women.
    “Well, Elizabeth, what would you like to
call her? Carol or Cynthia?”
    Paul’s question was meant to diffuse what he
probably considered to be an awkward situation. Perhaps it was
meant to push Mrs. Horton to a decision about her. But Carol didn’t
feel awkward, and she suspected Mrs. Horton always kept her poise
and couldn’t be pushed. Carol had an instant liking for her.
    “I’m going to stick to Carol for the moment.
Audrey, how’s dinner coming? I’m famished.” Audrey said dinner was
ready. “Good. Let’s adjourn to the dining room. Audrey and I
usually eat our dinner here, but this is a special