Dark Memories Submerged by I. T. Lucas

1

Geraldine

Geraldine applied a coat of gloss over her rose-hued lipstick and examined her reflection in the mirror.

Ageless was the look she was going for, but there was no hiding the fact that she looked way too young to have a thirty-four-year-old daughter. So far, she’d somehow gotten away with it, but the older Cassandra got, the harder it was to pull off.

When people remarked on Geraldine’s youthful appearance, she usually responded with a simple thank you, and more often than not, that sufficed. Some went further though, asking what her secret was, and for those she had a rehearsed reply—she stayed out of the sun, applied sunscreen every morning, and moisturized day and night.

Since that was what people expected to hear, they accepted her answer and moved on. She was just a simple suburban mother who wasn’t important enough to justify further inquiry.

Soon, though, she would be forced to add plastic surgery to her arsenal of answers.

With a sigh, Geraldine pulled a brush through her hair.

Where did the time go?

For most people, that was just an expression. For her, it was a reality she had to live with. Huge chunks were missing from her memory.

She didn’t remember being a child, or who her parents were. It was as if she’d been born an adult, and even after that so-called birth, much of her life was hazy.

Geraldine remembered waking up in a rehab center with a mind that was nearly a blank page. Later, after she’d relearned speech, she’d been told about the head trauma that had supposedly been the cause of her amnesia.

No trace of it remained, but from time to time, she felt a phantom pain on the left side of her head, and she imagined that was where she’d been injured.

Then again, she imagined many things that weren’t real.

It was so frustrating to have a brain that seemed perfectly normal and yet didn’t work right.

And why the hell wasn’t she aging?

Did it have anything to do with the injury she’d sustained?

Geraldine didn’t know how old she was when she woke up in the rehab center, but thirty-six years later, she looked exactly the same as she’d looked then.

She lived in fear of discovering the cause, and even more so of being found out. People would pay a fortune to analyze the secret of the fountain of youth hidden in her body.

Hopefully, the fake IDs she’d gotten over the years were confusing enough to throw potential investigators off her trail. So far no one had followed her, so her strategy was working. She also didn’t use credit cards, paying in cash whenever possible, and she had no property listed under her name either.

Thankfully, Geraldine also never got sick, so she didn’t need to see any doctors. She’d even delivered Cassy at home with the help of a midwife.

Well, not having medical insurance had been the main reason she’d chosen to do it that way, but she was so glad she hadn’t gone to a hospital. They might have taken blood samples and discovered the abnormality that was keeping her young.

At the time, she still hadn’t known that there was something wrong with her other than the memory loss. But in retrospect, not having money to spare had worked to her advantage.

Raising a daughter alone and having no formal education, Geraldine found it impossible to get a well-paying job, so money had always been scarce.

She’d supported herself and Cassandra by making quilts, for which she had a natural knack. The proceeds from selling them had covered her expenses, but medical insurance had been a luxury she couldn’t afford.

All of that had changed once Cassandra started working at Fifty Shades of Beauty. Now they both had medical insurance, and quilt making had turned into a hobby rather than a way to earn a living.

It was nice to create just for the sake of creation without having to work long hours or rush to complete a project so she could pay the rent.

Her quilts were beautiful if she said so herself, and while she still had been selling them, they’d been snatched up no matter what price tag she’d put on them.

The last one Geraldine had sold fetched over seven thousand dollars, an extravagant sum that she’d been sure no one would pay.

Nowadays, she only made them for fun or to give out as gifts to her friends.

In part it was to humor Cassy, who insisted that her mother no longer needed to slave over the sewing machine, and in part it was because her quilts were a calling card that someone might trace back to her.

It was safer not to advertise her work.

“Mom!” Cassandra yelled from downstairs. “Are you ready? Onegus will be here at any moment.”

“I’ll be right down!” Geraldine took one last look in the mirror, checked that her eyeliner wasn’t smudged, and fluffed up her hair.

She and Cassandra were meeting Onegus’s mother for lunch, and Geraldine didn’t want to be outdone by the woman. She wasn’t nearly as beautiful as Martha, but Geraldine had been told that she resembled Elizabeth Taylor, who had been called the most beautiful woman in the world, so there was that.

Except, the definition of beauty had changed since the legendary actress had been a star. Nowadays, tall leggy blondes with strong jawlines like Martha were all the rave, while petite brunettes with hourglass figures and small chins were not.

Still, she and the mother of the man Cassandra had fallen in love with had a lot in common. They both looked much too young to have children in their thirties, they each had only one child, and both had raised them without a father.

Onegus and Cassandra becoming a couple and introducing their mothers to each other seemed almost serendipitous.

Here was another woman, one who lived across the ocean from her, who also somehow defied aging. Had Martha been the victim of a freak accident as well? Could that be the explanation for both of their unnaturally youthful appearances?

Not likely.

Perhaps good genes were responsible for their youthful looks after all. And if not, perhaps Martha knew the secret and could explain why aging didn’t seem to affect either of them.

The get-together would be a good opportunity to ask. Martha was returning to Scotland Sunday evening, so today was Geraldine’s last chance.

Opening her purse, she dropped the lipstick and the gloss inside, closed it, and headed downstairs.

Cassandra was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. “You look beautiful, Mom.” Her gaze swept over Geraldine’s dress and matching heels. “I love the polka dots. Who knew that they would make a comeback?”

The small white dots contrasting with the navy blue was a classic pattern, as was the cut of the dress. Martha would have a hard time finding fault with Geraldine’s outfit.

“Do you like it?”

Cassy had as good an eye for colors and patterns as she did, and she trusted her opinion.

“I love it. The puffy skirt and cinched waist make you look like a cover model on a fifties fashion magazine.”

“They do?” Geraldine smoothed her hand over the skirt. “I didn’t realize that. Should I change into something else? I don’t want to look old-fashioned.”

She just wanted to look older.

Cassandra shook her head. “It’s perfect on you.”

“Thank you.” Geraldine lifted her hand and cupped her daughter’s cheek. “Tell me the truth. Are you and Onegus going to announce your engagement over lunch?”

Cassandra smiled nervously. “I’ve already answered that. Did you forget?”

Her daughter knew that comments about her memory issues upset her, which indicated that questions regarding Cassandra and Onegus’s possible engagement had hit a nerve.

“I didn’t forget. But you took half a day off from work, which you rarely do, so accompanying me to a lunch meeting with your boyfriend’s mother must be very important to you. What else am I supposed to think?”

It wasn’t only that. Cassandra had been edgy ever since the change in plans had been made. Geraldine had been supposed to meet Martha for lunch on Thursday, just the two of them, and then Martha had called to reschedule it for today so that Onegus and Cassandra could join them.

The phone’s ringing saved her daughter from answering. “It was the gate,” she said after ending the call. “Onegus is here.”