"I didn't know anyone named Mara."
“Serene,” Carrie said in a you-can't-be-serious voice. And then her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Jesus H. Christ. I completely forgot. No wonder."
Serene stared back at Carrie.
"She changed her name. Oh god. It makes sense now. She used to go by Julie."
"Julie?"
"Yeah. Julie.""
"Taylor's friend, Julie?"
Carrie scrutinized her. "Well, yeah, she was Taylor's friend, but now she's like your best friend. You don't even have a tiny bit of memory about Julie? I mean now that she's Mara."
“Julie, yeah, but not as Mara."
Serene could imagine her clearly. Blond Julie with her feathered hair and nasal valley girl talk, features near permanently screwed up tight with irritation over having to spend time with Serene. Taylor, throwing an arm around Julie to get her to lighten up. Julie was always rolling her eyes and chewing gum, cracking it between her teeth, her arms crossed, watching all of them like they were the biggest idiots. When Serene moved to LA, Taylor and Julie were a best friend item with matching hair color and style, similar dress and flippant, entitled mannerisms, Julie doing all the driving and Taylor making all the decisions about where they went and when. Over the summer, Serene had seen less of Julie. It happened gradually, Serene realized, around the time Taylor and Enzo hooked up. Staring at the picture of Mara and Enzo on Facebook, she wondered how in the world the two of them became close. Like her marriage to Erica, the relationship felt foreign, all the more proof that she was not Dora. "We don't have anything in common,” she said, frowning at Carrie's phone.
Carrie laughed. "Well, at one point you didn't, but you do now. You're both really into fashion, you both have kids and like to travel."
Something was seeping into Serene's memory that she couldn't define. Carrie pulled up Mara's page. "Look. There are a gazillion pictures of you two."
Serene had looked at the page before. Every other picture Mara posted, it seemed, had the two of them in it. They were captured laughing, talking, making kissy faces at the camera and posing in various outfits. Mara had kept herself up. She was still trim and pretty and wore her hair in long layers. She worked in fashion as a photographer. It looked like she volunteered her time and money to an organization that helped young girls who suffered domestic abuse. The pictures were coming to life in Serene's head. It was almost as if she could remember the events and locations that she and Mara were pictured in. There. That boat. Serene pointed at the luxury yacht on turquoise water, Mara leaning over the railing, a smile plastered on her face, a glass of wine in her hand.
"That's a catamaran." Serene fell silent, surprised at how the word just rolled off her tongue. It was a catamaran. How did she know that?
Carrie nodded. "Yeah, Enzo rented it last summer. You guys went to the––"
"Grenadines." Serene finished for her. She pointed at the girl next to Mara. "Gina. Enzo and Mara's daughter."
"My god," Carrie said in a low voice. "Is your memory coming back?"
Serene was shaking. The memory was so strong that she could almost feel the salt air in her face, the breeze and the ocean's spray. Serene could remember Barbara making snide remarks about the yacht, enjoying the experience despite her misgivings of the ostentation. She could remember Erica's smile, popping into their cabin in the middle of the day for a quickie, all the while trying to keep quiet. Mara, so organized. Enzo, a respected renowned chef. The Moreno family owned three Italian fusion restaurants. Dora's memories kept coming. It was like stepping into someone else's body and remembering their experiences without really being them.
"I remember," Serene whispered. Yes. She was remembering Dora's life.
Carrie grabbed her hand. "Oh my god, Dora––or Serene––whoever you are." Her voice rose with excitement. "These pictures are helping." She started quickly swiping through them, too fast.
"Wait. Slow down."
"Oh. God," Carrie said. "Look at this old picture."
It was all of them—the whole crew. Taylor's mom had snapped the picture when she came to pick up Taylor and Julie after Julie's car broke down. She must have given the photo to Julie. Thirteen-year-old Carrie sat on Serene's doorstep, holding up her hand in a half-hearted friendly greeting. Steve, Dylan and Serene posed on their skateboards and Taylor grinned with her arm around Julie, who looked like she was in the middle of an eye roll.
Julie.
Serene's hand flew to her mouth.
"Are you okay?" Carrie asked.
54
Night of the Get Together - July 15, 2020; 10:00 PM
"I need some air," Serene said.
"Yeah, I should go home," Steve mumbled.
Just seconds before, Enzo had grabbed the phone, storming out of the kitchen. From the living room, they could hear him talking loudly in Italian. The conversation ended abruptly, and he strode back, gazing at all of them with bloodshot eyes.
"Who did you call?" Bets asked.
He pulled out one of the chairs and slumped down into it, his anger apparently spent. "My cousin," he said. "She warned me about her. I should have listened."
Bets got up and began clearing dishes, but Enzo waved her down. "Don't worry about it."
"I'm not going to leave you with this big mess."
It was a mess. There were dishes still on the table, empty glasses, wine, beer bottles, platters of leftover food and splatters of red sauce on the stove. Serene felt tired looking at it, and Steve's hands went to his forehead.
"Shit," he said. "I really should get home. I don't want to piss my dad off."
"I said, don't worry about it," Enzo snapped.
Kanani grabbed some glasses. "We got you," she said.
Steve hesitated, then walked in that loping gait out of the kitchen and the house altogether.
Serene stared at the backdoor. "Do you think Taylor will be alright?" She asked, thinking of the desolate streets, a young girl walking on her own. It wasn't safe.
"Yo, fuck that bitch!" Enzo
