Love Water Memory by Jennie Shortridge
Paperback: 352 pages
Publisher: Gallery Books
Publisher: Gallery Books
Release Date: January 14th 2014
Blurb:
If you could do it all over again, would you still choose him?
At age thirty-nine, Lucie Walker has no choice but to start her life over when she comes to, up to her knees in the chilly San Francisco Bay, with no idea how she got there or who she is. Her memory loss is caused by an emotional trauma she knows nothing about, and only when handsome, quiet Grady Goodall arrives at the hospital does she learn she has a home, a career, and a wedding just two months away. What went wrong? Grady seems to care for her, but Lucie is no more sure of him than she is of anything. As she collects the clues of her past self, she unlocks the mystery of what happened to her. The painful secrets she uncovers could hold the key to her future—if she trusts her heart enough to guide her.
Excerpt from the novel Love Water Memory, by Jennie Shortridge
Chapter
1
SHE BECAME AWARE of a commotion
behind her, yet it seemed important to continue looking out over the water
toward low mountains, a skiff of clouds. A bridge in the distance, familiar.
And something else, something that shimmered on the periphery of… what, the
horizon? Her vision? No, her mind. Something she’d come to find. Voices called
out; the people behind her. Seagulls shrieked from the pier on the right. Just
past them, the masts of tall ships creaked slowly back and forth as though
they’d been there forever, only she was just now seeing them.
“Hello?”
A distinct male voice, closer. She tried to turn to see him but her legs felt
numb. No, they were cold. Ice cold. Dead legs. Was she dead? Where was she?
What was this place?
She
looked down and saw dark water to her knees. She held high heels in one hand
and shouldered a large purse that made her neck ache. Her skirt was wet at the
hem.
“Excuse
me, are you okay?” Closer still.
“I
don’t know,” she said, turning her head. That she could do, at least.
The man waded
toward her from the beach, wearing only a skimpy bathing suit and black swim
cap on his head, strapped beneath his chin. She tried to move away from him—who
was he? Why was he dressed like that? He was so exposed—his chest, his arms,
his mid-section—freckled and sun-weathered, a thick white scar on his abdomen
she didn’t want to see. Why was he so naked here with her? And then she noticed
a crowd of people dressed similarly standing at the shore, men and women, some
in wetsuits, others in swimsuits. All with those black caps. All looking at
her.
“I can’t feel my
legs,” she admitted.
“I bet,” he said. “You’ve been in here nearly
half an hour and the water’s only sixty degrees.” He stopped a few feet away.
He seemed friendly, like someone’s brother, maybe. Laugh lines creased his
face, but his smile was tentative. “Do you want to come out now?” He looked at
her in a way that said she really should, so she nodded.
“What’s your
name?” he asked.
She opened her
mouth to tell him, but didn’t know what to say. He waded closer, slowly,
carefully, like someone would approach a hurt dog or a crazy person.
“Do you live
around here?” he asked. “Or did you come down from the cable car?”
Did he think she
was crazy? She wished he would quit asking her questions. It hurt inside,
trying to figure out how to answer. Her head throbbed now, or maybe it had all
along.
She let him come
right up to her and take her by the arm. His hand was warm, and his arm and
body, and she realized she was freezing, even though the sun lit everything
around them into a sharp, bright world she didn’t know.
“Want to try to
walk back to the shore?” he asked, gently rotating her until they faced the
crowd on the sand, a banner behind them that read “Alcatraz Open Water
Invitational.” They were all going swimming, she guessed. All at once.
“Is she all
right?” someone called.
“I
think we’d better call 911,” he answered.
“Already
did,” another replied.
“It’s
just my legs,” she said. “They’re so cold. I’ll just put my shoes back on.”
“Okay,”
he said, slowly walking her toward shore. “Let’s just keep moving.”
She slid her feet
like blocks across sandpaper. They hurt now. Everything hurt now. Something was
changing inside her, trying to speed up to catch the cog, but there were only
broken gears grinding against each other. She wanted to turn back and stay
looking across the water, to find what she came for, but the man kept guiding
her toward the crowd. Behind them were too many buildings, and behind those, a
hill of more buildings.
She looked up and
saw letters against the sky. “Ghirardelli.” Oh, she would love some chocolate.
A
tall woman in a black swimsuit waded out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders
as the man kept hold of her arm. They were so warm.
“You’re going to
be okay,” the woman said, but she wasn’t sure. She heard a siren now, and
shuddered.
An
ambulance screamed down the pier next to the beach. Red lights, blue lights.
Such a horrible loud sound. It hurt almost as much as trying to answer
questions. She hated sirens, maybe the most of everything.
Others
rushed forward with towels, swaddling her inside them, taking her shoes and bag
away from her. People in uniforms pushed through the crowd, insisting she lie
on the sand. Yes, that was good. She was exhausted.
“What’s
your name?” they kept asking while checking her heart, her pulse, putting an
oxygen mask on her face. “Where’s your ID? What day is it? Do you know where
you are? Who’s the president of the United States?”
“Obama,” she finally
murmured into the mask. It was the only answer she had, and as good as it felt
to know her president, it was nowhere near enough.
Author Bio
Where it Began marks the YA debut of Ann Redisch Stampler. She is the author of several picture books, including The Rooster Prince of Breslov. Her books have been an Aesop Accolade winner, Sydney Taylor notable books and an honor book, a National Jewish Book Awards finalist and winner, and Bank Street Best Books of the Year. Ann has two adult children and lives in Los Angeles, California with her husband.
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