Recap: On a business trip in his own plane down the Caribbean chain, Jonathan disappeared, leaving a wife, pregnant Allison, behind. Jon's business partner Matt and Allison slowly develop a loving relationship, conceive their own child, and, after Jon is declared legally dead six years after his disappearance, Allison and Matt marry. Then, a year or so later, Jon unexpectedly shows up at Matt and Allison's front door.
*
Matt and I were home alone. The kids were staying with my parents about a half an hour away. We'd just finished dinner, when the doorbell rang – an unusual occurrence in our life. No one ever came to the door in our neighborhood; New Englanders always called ahead.
I answered the door, and there stood Jonathan – my Jonathan, my husband, my former husband. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God ..."
I fainted.
*
Both Matt and Jonathan were hovering over me when I came to, and I was lying on the sofa. Matt helped me sit up.
I looked at Jonathan and sobbed. I broke into hysterics. I felt so wildly conflicted inside. He was alive, he was my husband, he was dead, he was really alive, he wasn't my husband anymore, I loved Matt, and I loved Jonathan. My brain was a mess of emotions and wild feelings. I kept crying. My feelings ran wild. I couldn't stop. Both men kneeled next to me trying to comfort me and stop my uncontrollable weeping. In the two seconds it took me to process that Jon was at the door I'd become an emotional wreck.
Through my sobs, I blurted out, "How? What happened? Where ...?"
Jonathan held my hands tightly. He spoke as much to Matt as to me: "I crashed on a small island near St. Kitts. I hit my head very hard and destroyed the plane; I was really torn up. The plane burned, but I pulled myself away from it to the nearby beach. A fisherman named Daws and his wife from St. Christopher's found me and took me home to patch up. They were simple people, and seemed to care more that I'd survived than anything about the crash. I'd lost my memory and all my ID."
Matt said, "But that was over seven years ago."
Jonathan nodded. My crying slowed as he talked. It really was Jonathan; I fumbled for his hand and held it tightly clutched to my chest. "I'd broken lots of bones. Some of them still aren't right. I'd also lost a lot of blood. Daws, the fisherman, and his wife stopped the bleeding and put splints on my legs and one arm. It took me months before I could walk or even feed myself. They kept asking who I was and what I remembered. I remembered nothing. For a while I was like a pretty dumb ten-year old." He paused and looked at me, "Oh, Babe. I'm so sorry for what I put you through. I can imagine what that time was like for you."
I held out my arms although I was still crying, and Jonathan came into them and held me. My sobs abated even further.
Jonathan continued as I looked up into his face. His complexion was ruddy now – tanned and tight. He had a long-healed scar barely visible along one cheek. I could feel the muscles of his arms and chest through his off white shirt. "As I healed and could move around, I helped Daws repair his nets, and then I worked on his boat. I had to repay the nursing they'd given me. I became a fisherman. All the time I kept trying to remember, but there was nothing there."
Suddenly, I stood and hugged Jonathan to me with all my might. My initial shock at his sudden appearance after having been missing all these years was replaced my total joy and happiness that he was alive. Over his shoulder, I could see Matt beaming at us.
I leaned up and kissed Jonathan. He kissed back, and then grinned down at me. Through my sniffles, I asked with renewed curiosity, "What about the other six years?"
He smiled. "At first I knew nothing. I barely had any skills. They showed me how to do the nets and that became my life for the first part of my healing. Little by little, month-by-month, some things came back to me – skills and ability to do things, and then I started to get flashes of memory of growing up – school, parents, friends, and even you two. I couldn't put names to anything or anybody; I didn't know where I was from. One of Daws friends told me I must be from the British Virgins because I talked funny. Turns out I talked funny because I'd broken my jaw, and it didn't set right. It distorted my speech."
Jonathan went on talking about his agonizingly slow recovery. As I listened I became aware again of the magnetism I felt for this man – my husband or exhusband. He had a smell I remembered – a scent that turned me on. I flushed and probably blushed at the sexual thought that raced through my addled brain. I tried to puzzle through what his status was now that he'd returned from the dead. Briefly I panicked that I'd rushed his death certificate, but then I recalled that we were past the seven-year window anyway.
Matt asked, "When did you realize who you were? How'd you find us – find your way back home?"
Jonathan explained, "About three years ago Daws died of old age. I moved his wife in with their daughter on another island and decided to stay there – St. Kitts. It was more populated. A friend took me to a real doctor for the first time in years to see about my limp, my crooked bones and things. He started to work on me – to make me whole. Some of it was painful, but he straightened things, repaired my jaw, and fixed me up physically. He also brought in a psychiatrist to see about finding my memory. Every few weeks we'd explore the mental world in my brain, the few things I could remember, and started to build a profile of whom I'd been."
"So you found yourself?" I asked.
"Not right away," Jonathan explained. "It was a slow process. I had what they call post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Some people never recover from it. In other than flashes, your first name came up about two years ago, but it took another year before I even could remember my own first name. Even then, I wasn't sure about anything. There was still so much I couldn't remember – details – so I didn't do anything right away."
"Over the next year, the psychiatrist coaxed from me my involvement with the Internet and I remembered I'd had a business ... then I remembered more about Matt and flying. He had me start to search for you and for my previous life on the Internet about that time. Some of what I remember now, I think is really from what I discovered on the Net over the past year or so. Memories did return, however. I kept healing. Finally, the docs told me to come and see you. I'm still healing; I'm still trying to remember things."
"Oh, Jonathan," I exclaimed I threw myself into his arms again.
Matt and I became interviewers of our old friend, feeding Jonathan details and facts about our past together as well as asking a thousand questions. Eventually, Jonathan yawned.
Jon listened with excitement as I told him about his son. He said he'd remembered I'd been pregnant, but wasn't sure if that was a valid memory. He was glad that Matt and I had a child and married.
"Jon, can you stay with us? Can you stay here? Where's your luggage?"
He laughed and apologized; "I'm sorry for keeping you guys up so late. My luggage is probably still on the doorstep. I hadn't thought much of what I would do besides seeing you and trying to explain my disappearance to you. You were my first stop." He looked right at me, his eyes soft and yielding.
