Memory's Edge: Part One Page 7

  “Do you think I’ll remember?” John asked. He wanted the empty feeling inside him to disappear, as he hoped it would if he ever remembered his old life, but he also feared what that might bring. Would it take him away from this new life, from Gretchen?

  Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t even realized Gretchen had failed to answer his question. Why didn’t she answer?

  “Gretchen?”

  She looked up, broken out of her own thoughts. “Will you remember? You probably will eventually…”

  The way she trailed off made John worry. “Gretchen, do you really think that?”

  Hesitating again, she didn’t look at him. “It’s not really about what I think. It’s about what the doctors think.”

  “And?” John asked.

  “And Dr. Sanchez didn’t seem very optimistic. She said your brain was healing, but there was a lot of damage done to your memory centers. She said there’s always a chance, but she didn’t sound very hopeful,” she said. Looking up at John, she tried to lighten her expression, but didn’t do a very good job of it. “You’d fallen asleep by then and she said she didn’t see any point in stepping on your hopes, but I think you’re better off knowing the truth.”

  John’s heart and mind attempted to wrap themselves around that statement. A crushing sense of aloneness pushed its way into him, but a strange tide of pleasure held it back. All he could think about when he wasn't focused on Gretchen was how much he wanted to have the gaps in his mind filled in. But where did that small ray of happiness come from? Why would staying in the fog be a good thing?

  Feeling Gretchen beside him, even without looking at her, John suspected he knew.

  “Thanks for telling me, Gretchen. I would rather know what my chances are,” John said.

  Gretchen seemed to appreciate the sentiment. Her uncertainty faded and warmed into a smile. “Do you want to take your mind off all this?” she asked.

  “I would love to take my mind off the doctors and therapists and tests,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

  Holding up a case, she said, “How about a movie?”

  “Sure,” At least he knew he hadn’t seen it before. Not that watching the story play out was really the point. Escaping the hospital for a few hours was what they both wanted. That should have been the main point, but when Gretchen moved her chair closer to the bed and let her head rest on the mattress the point became something else entirely.

  The ends of her hair fell over John’s fingertips, tickling his overly sensitive skin. His arm was bent. He knew if he extended his hand he would be able to touch her. The previews on the DVD ended and the movie began by panning out over a large city. John’s hand remained frozen under the edges of her hair. Did she realize how close she had laid her head to his hand? Long sections of the movie went by, but he had no idea what it was about. Stretching his hand out, John gently lowered it to the side of Gretchen’s face, and he could have sworn he heard her sigh happily as he did.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rescue Me

  Gretchen could see Carl watching her from his living room window. His six-foot-plus build made it so he had to stoop to see out, but his eyes followed her steadily as she helped John out of the car and handed him his crutches. She had relished her argument-free time with Carl Saturday night, but was hardly surprised by his reaction. There was little doubt in her mind he knew exactly what was happening, even though she hadn’t dared mention her plans to him.

  Ignoring Carl as best she could, Gretchen helped John hobble toward the house. It had taken most of the afternoon to get him checked out of the hospital. And they, of course, couldn’t leave until the nurses had the chance to say their goodbyes and make sure they had Gretchen’s cell number so they could check in on him. It was dark outside before they escaped.

  John was exhausted by the time they made it to the door. The short trip had him left him winded and shaky. They barely made it into the living room without him collapsing, and Gretchen struggled to settle him on the couch. Leaning back with a sigh when he was finally seated comfortably, he said, “I didn’t expect that to be so hard.”

  “It’s the first time you’ve walked more than a few steps mostly on your own in over a week, and you still have a lot of injuries. Don’t expect so much of yourself,” Gretchen said.

  “Easier said than done,” John complained.

  Handing him a couple of throw pillows for his foot, she made sure he was comfortable before standing back up. “I’m going to get the rest of the stuff from the car. Stay put and rest.”

  John nodded and let his eyes close. Gretchen slipped away quietly, leaving the front door open a little, so she could get back in easily. She barely made it a few steps down the drive before she was ambushed.

  “Gretchen, what do you think you’re doing?” he said, grabbing her arm and halting her.

  “I’m getting a few things from my car, if you don’t mind.” Pulling her arm free, Gretchen stalked to the trunk, letting the lid flip open in Carl’s face.

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” He came around and faced her. Gretchen busied herself getting bags out of the car. She didn’t respond to his badgering. Carl was a good man and her best friend, but she did not have to explain her decisions to him.

  Gretchen turned away, but Carl reached for her, pleading this time. She hesitated before facing him. His big brown eyes were stern, but shining with concern as well. Gretchen had lost track of how many times she’d turned down more than burgers and watching a game. That didn’t stop him from thinking he had to protect her from whatever he saw as a threat.

  “Gretchen, this is not a good idea,” Carl growled. He was pulling out all the stops. Usually his easy going, big-brother routine was make her give in to whatever silly demand he was making. Bypassing that, he’d gone straight for knight in shining armor putting his foot down from the dragon only he thought was about to roast her to death.

  Just because she refused to move beyond friends with Carl didn’t mean she wasn't attracted to him. Working the oilfield gave him a strong, muscular build to go with his already rough, but handsome appearance. No one could look at him and say he wasn’t stunning, including Gretchen. Looks had nothing to do with why they were only friends.

  Her friendship with Carl was too important to her to risk. As much as she wanted to give in at times, there were no guarantees it would last. If a relationship between them ever ended badly, not only would her heart be irreparably broken, they would still have to be neighbors. Short of one of them moving away, which neither of them would want to do.

  Looking up at Carl’s fear and frustration, she did her best to resist caving. It wasn’t coming over last minute for a hockey game or impromptu barbecue with friends and coworkers. John was worth standing up to him.

  “I know you’re worried, but everything is fine. John is a very nice person, but he has nowhere else to go. I wouldn’t have taken him in if I thought I was putting myself in danger.” Gretchen kept her voice calm and confident as she spoke, but that had no effect on Carl at all.

  “Nice person? You have no idea who this guy is,” he hissed. “He could murder you in your sleep if he wanted to!”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little overdramatic?”

  Carl’s face hardened. “No. I don’t.”

  Did he have to be so difficult?

  “The police checked his fingerprints. The shrink at the hospital gave him a full psychological evaluation. He’s fine,” Gretchen said.

  “That’s not enough,” Carl argued.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Huffing in irritation, Carl looked up at the clouds, his ultimate expression of frustration. He was not going to give up. If Gretchen didn’t do something to appease him, she had no doubt he would be trying to watch her night and day for the chance to protect her from John. It was time for Gretchen to pull out all the stops on him.

  Resting her hand on his forearm immediately drew his gaze to Gretchen’s. An expectant loo
k pushed Gretchen to speak. “Your number is the first one in my favorites on my cell phone. If I need help, I know you’ll be there.” She was using his feelings for her against him, but Gretchen knew it was the only way to make him back down. “John needs some help right now, and I’m in the position to give it. I need you to trust me on this.”

  Carl opened his mouth to object and Gretchen was quick to continue. “If I feel in danger in any way, I promise I will let you rescue me and put me in your debt forever.”

  His righteous frustration faded into a slight smile. No doubt the idea of Gretchen owing him was very appealing. Amusement faded quickly as he seemed to remember his earlier concern. “Are you sure about this? It really seems like a bad idea to me.” His hand slipped around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “You know how much I worry about you,” he said.

  “I know, and I really do appreciate it.” Gretchen honestly meant that. Having Carl next door always made her feel better. He even played a part in her deciding to let John move in. Not that she would admit that.

  After just slightly too long, Carl finally released her and stepped back. “I want your promise that you’ll call me if anything upsets you or makes you feel worried at all.”

  His look of stoic seriousness made her smile. “I promise.”

  Carl actually seemed to relax a little at that.

  “I think you’re really just jealous,” Gretchen said teasingly.

  Grinning from ear to ear, Carl folded his arms across his chest. “Of course I am.”

  Rolling her eyes, Gretchen said, “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Unbelievably handsome, and strong, and—”

  “Humble?” she mocked. He just smiled. “Now, would you please let me get my groceries into the house before my ice cream melts?”

  “Butter Pecan?” he asked.

  “You bet.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need any help with your bags?” Carl asked, eyeing Gretchen’s front door.

  “No,” she said quickly. The last thing she needed was Carl in the same room as John.

  “All right, then. Call if you need anything.”

  “I will,” Gretchen said, shaking her head.

  Watching Carl walk back to his house, Gretchen realized just how much his presence reassured her. Both Carl and John were right about her being scared to open her home to John. She really didn’t know what she was getting herself into. Gretchen only hoped she wouldn’t need to call in her white knight to rescue her from her decision.

  Carl would most definitely never let her live it down.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gone

  Her gentle hands woke John in the pink light of dawn. Opening his eyes, he immediately searched for her face. Gretchen’s soft smile wasn’t hard to find. She was kneeling next to his bed, watching him anxiously. As John’s mind came back to life, so did the pain. His throat constricted as it tried to keep a wave of pain-induced bile from coming up.

  “Are you okay, John?” Gretchen asked. She brought her hand up to his forehead to feel for the symptoms of fever they had been warned about. Her hand came away slowly.

  “I’m fine,” John said.

  Shaking her head, Gretchen studied him for a brief second. “I’m going to have to call in sick. I can’t leave you here like this.”

  “Gretchen, I’m fine, really. I just need my pain meds,” he said. “Could you grab them off the nightstand for me?”

  Her careful fingers measured out two pills and handed them to him with a glass of water. She watched as he downed the pills. In an effort to show Gretchen he was fine, John pushed himself up in bed and leaned against the headboard. That in itself was a bit of a trick with only one hand able to support his weight, but he did it with a determined grimace. John had been going for a smile, but it turned out he was shooting a little high with that one.

  “See,” John said, “I’m fine.”

  Raising an eyebrow at him, Gretchen said, “You’re not fine. I better stay.”

  “No. Go to work. I can handle lying in bed all day just fine. I don’t want to interrupt your life any more than I already have,” he said. John said it, but at the same time he dreaded seeing her walk out the door.

  “You’re not interrupting anything. It’s not that big of a deal to call in sick. My boss will understand,” she argued.

  Her boss would probably give her the day off, but she would also wonder how many more days Gretchen was going to need to take care of some homeless guy she found in the middle of the road. It was her first year teaching. Taking tons of sick time was not going to win her any brownie points with the school district.

  “Can you hand me my crutches?” John asked.

  She seemed to think about her decision before she finally standing and collecting them. Holding the crutches out for John, she waited. Clearly, she was testing him. If he couldn’t get up to the crutches, John knew she was going to call in sick. Very slowly, he slid his casted leg across the mattress and lowered it to the floor by miniscule increments. As careful as he was, the slight touch of his foot on the carpet sent pain racing up his leg. John was sure he could feel exactly where all three breaks were in his leg.

  The next step of the test was pulling himself up to the crutches and actually using them, which was tricky with one arm in a cast. Luckily, the break in his arm was the least serious of his broken bones and he could hook his thumb on the crutch to steady it and swing it forward.

  John held his breath as he reached for the crutches and pulled himself up from the bed. Instead of moving slowly, he thought it would be better to go for it in a rush. All he accomplished was making himself lightheaded, which also seemed to intensify the throbbing in his leg. Gretchen’s strong grip on him kept him from plopping back down on the bed.

  “See, no problem,” he said with a smile.

  Gretchen didn’t smile back. Her lips parted and John knew she was about to announce she would stay home, so he swung his crutches and trundled past her. The swinging motion hurt like hell, but he kept going until he reached the kitchen.

  Pretending Gretchen wasn’t watching him like a hawk, John searched her cupboards for something to eat. Not finding a whole lot, he finally gave her a chance to speak.

  “Do you have anything for breakfast?” he asked.

  Now there was the hint of a smile on her lips. “Cinnamon-raisin toast?” she asked.

  “Sure. Where is it?” John hadn’t seen any bread during his quick look through the cupboards but, with how haphazardly everything was thrown into them, he easily could have missed it. Going back to the Lazy-Susan cupboard, he pushed it in and watched the boxes and cans spin past him. The sound of the fridge door being pulled open caught his attention.

  Gretchen held up a bag of bread with a smug smile.

  “You keep it in the fridge?” he asked.

  “It stays fresh longer that way,” she said. “Sit down and I’ll make you some.”

  Well, at least she knew where things were in the kitchen.

  “Don’t you need to be getting to work?” John asked. He was not going to let her distract him with food. Keeping her there over a simple breakfast sounded much better than having to face the anxiety of being alone. She had to work, though. Even if he had to shove her out the door himself, she was going to take her books and go teach a horde of teenagers about the periodic table, or whatever it was they needed to know. Being alone was something he had to face. It might as well be right away.

  “I’ve got a few minutes,” Gretchen said.

  That hardly sounded like anything concrete. Dropping two slices of cinnamon swirled bread into the toaster, Gretchen turned around to face John. “Do you want butter or cream cheese on your toast?” she asked.

  “What do you like?” he asked in return. Was she stalling for time?

  “I like butter, but a lot of people like cream cheese, too.”

  “How about one of each then?”

  Gretchen nodded and started for the fridge ag
ain, but John was closer and beat her to it. Pulling the door open, he had to search through random takeout boxes and Tupperware containers before he found them. As organized as the rest of the house was, the cupboards and fridge were a disheveled mess. Eventually, he got both the butter and the cream cheese onto the kitchen counter, then hunted around in the drawers until he found a butter knife.

  When the toast popped up, John reached over to snatch it out before Gretchen could. He had them buttered and cream cheesed in record time and took a big bite out of the one with the butter. Savoring the flavors of each one as he leaned against the counter, John stored them away for when he could get to his notebook.

  Watching John eat, and watching the clock on the stove with equal interest, Gretchen’s indecision had her tapping the countertop in anxiety. The clock read seven-fifteen. John knew she had to be at work by seven-thirty. The school was only a few minutes away, but he wondered if he had already made her late for work.

  Licking the last of the cream cheese off his fingers, John grabbed his crutches again and faced Gretchen. “I’ll be fine, Gretchen. Would you please just go to work?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “What if you need something? What if you’re in pain or you need help? I don’t like leaving you here alone.”

  “I have your number at work, plus Lynn’s, plus Maria’s, plus Dr. Sanchez’s, plus all my med’s. I’m going to sit down on the couch, watch some TV, and probably take a couple really long naps.” Hobbling over to her, John put his hand on Gretchen’s shoulder and pushed her toward the front door. “And you are going to work, right now.”

  “John, I can stay,” she said. “You’re not ready to be left alone.”

  Was she thinking about the last time she had left him alone? Or was she really just afraid of leaving a stranger in her house? It was probably a little of both for her, as it was for John. What would John discover about himself when completely alone?