Arno looks to be a beautiful man, but I don't have memories of men overall so I don't have anything to compare him to.
He is tall and slender but his shoulders are wide and his upper arms—what I can make out through his leather bomber's coat—don't appear to be all muscled and taking over the sleeve with bulges. I like my men slender, I am realizing.
Arno puts his eyes on me. He studies my body. His forehead is wide and fits his face perfectly as his eyes are wide too, a watery blue, and there is a goatee raked through with streaks of gray that tell time through his black whiskers. All of it is a complete package—and now I'm comparing him to the Ralph Lauren models in my magazines, though Arno is older than those men-children. He keeps his eyes coming back to me while making small talk with Dr. Thomas and Father O'Grady and his attentions make me feel special.
Father O'Grady means the flowers, when he says, "Tell your husband thank you, Dania”—as if I have no sense of my own.
I turn, embarrassed, and reply, "I will, Father O'Grady. I only have trouble with my memory, not with my manners." There is ice in my voice which I have not heard there before.
Arno bursts into laughter. Father O'Grady hesitates. What Father O'Grady saw yesterday at the Placement Board was an Arno who had been reserved and officious; today he is laughter and thoughtfulness—I have to admit that the flowers have touched me and invited me across yet another mental bridge in my mind. I feel myself drawing nearer to what my mind projects as a castle with a man inside. But I still haven't crossed the moat. That will require certainty that can only arise from past memory. I'm not sure that will ever happen, but the Placement Board said I am to leave and go home with this man and so I am substituting their judgment for my lack of memory. I have been counseled to accept the fact that just because I feel nothing toward the man doesn't mean he's not my husband. I have been told my feelings will return over time. Clearly he loves me; he has been searching high and low for me and has admitted to spending in excess of $10,000 for investigators who tried to track me down after I went missing.
"Father," Arno says, "can you give us a few minutes alone before we leave?"
Wordlessly, the priest creeps quietly from my room. Dr. Thomas turns and follows. Far be it from him to interfere between husband and wife, his look says. So he is smiling when he pulls the door closed behind.
"Well," says Arno, taking Father O'Grady's seat. "Here we are at last, my darling wife."
I stare at the man. My eyes search his features for a clue; even one clue would help. But there is no clue, which, according to my counseling, is not worrisome.
"Are you really my husband?" I ask politely.
"Please, call me Jana, my middle name. Or Jay—your pet name for me back in the day. And yes, I am your husband for some four years now. I think that the more you get to know me, the happier you are going to be as you learn how much I have always loved you. Danny, let me just say it. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"Goodness," I say. "I didn't expect that. And my name is Danny?”
“Dania, but you prefer Danny.”
“I didn’t expect that, either.”
"Well, get ready for the unexpected, because I want nothing more than to take you in my arms and kiss away your doubts."
"Well."
"But that's getting the cart way before the horse."
"Yes."
"For now, let's just get reacquainted. Can we do that for the next little while? Just exchange histories as we get to know each other again? And don't worry about the rest of it: I have a separate bedroom made up for you until you feel safe with me."
"That's nice."
"I thought you'd appreciate that."
"Yes, and you're probably still recovering from your injuries. Nothing too physical for you right now anyway. Well, we can talk more about this on down the road. But I just want you to know for now, that I am renewing my vow to love, honor, and cherish you always. To respect you and put your needs before my own. And to always be faithful."
"Well."
"I know—I know—don't try to respond just now. We'll talk more later. For now, let's just be together. Together at long last."
"We should spend time just talking. I'd like that the best."
"May I sit beside you? I have something to show you."
"Okay." I'm feeling happy, and I pat the bed beside me and Jana comes around and sits down. It is almost natural that we are touching at the knees. But we are not touching at the hips. He is careful about that.
He has brought along a photograph album, which he opens now.
"I wanted you to see what you looked like before the accident, Danny. Your looks have changed. Which is fine—I don't mind. But in case you're wondering what you looked like before, let me just show you a few snaps."
I reach down and open the album cover myself. I am very interested. This is the first interesting thing that has happened to me in months.
"Here we are sharing our wedding cake," he says, and I am greeted with a picture of a younger couple sharing what is obviously a wedge of wedding cake cut from a three tier affair. Jana's face is obscured behind my hand as I jokingly force the cake into his mouth as newlyweds will do.
"And there are other pictures of you and your wedding dress."
I turn two pages, and I inspect the bride passing before my eyes. I admire her dress, her hairstyle, and I am pierced by her obvious joy at marrying her true love. His own photos are formal but warm at the same time with his great smile and sparkling eyes. I feel a hint of warmth inside; this is the first time I have felt a real feeling about another person since awakening. I relax on the bed where we're sitting, and allow my knee to relax against his knee.
"Danny Soulé," I say softly. "So that's who I am. Do I have children? Are there children in this book?"
"No children. You preferred a career to children."
"What did I do?"
"You worked as a legal secretary."
"Who did I work for?"
"Do you remember Richard Charney on LaSalle Street? You worked for Richard for several years before he passed on. He was in private practice alone, so his office has been closed for about a year now. You were thinking of finding another position when you had your accident."
"A legal secretary? Was I any good at it?"
"You were excellent. Everyone said so wherever you worked. They all told me how great you were.”
"I don't remember anything about law. I feel like I should, but I honestly don't. It makes me feel sad."
He smiles and touches my knee with his free hand. "It will come back. Dr. Thomas says you'll get much of it back. But it will take some time, that's all."
"Time is what I have," I tell him. I smile at him for the first time, and I don't mind at all when he puts his hand on my knee and leaves it there. I feel connected, like I am part of something that exists outside the hospital, outside in the real world, and it feels hopeful. I do not move away.
He turns the page. "Look, here you are on your mountain bike."
"I'm wearing a helmet, but she doesn't look much like me."
He shakes his head. When he speaks it is halting and broken as if he is fighting back some raw emotion. "You've changed, Danny. The plastic surgeries on your face have definitely changed you."
"But you still find me attractive?"
"Attractive? Definitely I do! You are just as beautiful as ever. You're just different, that's all. But inside you're still the same old Danny."
"I am? That sounds hopeful. Thank you for saying that—Jay."
"Jay. I've always loved it when you call me that. Only my mother called me that before you."
"Where is your mother?"
"She passed away five years ago, New Year's Eve. She was eating dinner, when she suddenly stood up and died of a massive aneurysm."
"Goodness, so many people in your life have died. Mr. Charney, your mother. Is there anyone I'll get to meet?"
"Of course there is," Jana says,
"my younger brother idolizes you. He'd steal you away from me if I wasn't so careful. He'll love seeing you again."
"You don't have to worry, Jay. I'm not interested in anyone but my husband."
"Thank you."
"Do I have any brothers or sisters?"
"You're an only child."
"Mother and father?"
Your father lives in California, in Santa Ana. Your mother left home when you were young and hasn't been heard from since."
"I want to see my father. Right away, Jay. Maybe I'll have memories."
"We'll definitely do that."
"What's his name?"
"Roy Halliburton. He's a retired deep-sea diver for the Navy. A very brave man."
"Oh my. How exciting. I'm going to see my father!"
"Yes, you are. And it is exciting. I’ll love being there with you."
"What is your job, Jay? Can you leave anytime you want?"
"My father left me a trust fund. So I basically spend my days working over my investments. I work from home."
"Are we—are we—"
"Wealthy? Not at all. But we're quite well off. You have no worries, Danny."
"Did I go to college? Where did I go to high school?"
He laughs and strokes my knee, which is slightly uncomfortable. But I don't move away. He is my husband and I was told he would want to touch me.
"We'll talk all about that," he says, laughing. "We have our lifetimes ahead of us, Danny. Plenty of time to catch up on all that!"
I laugh too, I am already liking him more and more.
It is exciting to think of going home with this man. And I will have my own space—which is thoughtful. But I know it won't be long before we're together again in the same bed. I don't mind; I already want to please him.
I want to be a good wife to this man. He has come for me, tracking me down and following up and spending money, so he can be with me again. And you know what else is wonderful? He carries much of me inside of himself. He can help me reconstruct my life from what he knows. It is going to be wonderful growing into my old self again. Too many nights I have lain awake in bed wondering how I was going to deal with losing the first half of my life. It always makes me very sad and unhappy. But now I have a chance to reclaim that lost world. Jay is already very important to me. I plan on making him wonderfully happy that he came for me.
Who can tell? Maybe this time I will even be a better version of my old self.
I am certainly ready to try.
28
Jana and Niles
While the hospital was discharging me, Jana left me to get the car. I watched him hand his claim ticket to valet parking. The exuberant young parking aide took off at a gallop to retrieve Jana's car. Jana stepped to the side, away from the view of anyone who might suddenly come outside, and pulled his cell phone from his overcoat.
I couldn’t hear what was said, of course, but Niles told me later, after he had sex with me again.
"Niles," he said after punching in a speed dial. "Any news?"
Niles hesitated. "You're not going to like this, but he's snooping around Chicago hospitals again."
"Persistent fellow," Jana said. "We should have taken him out when we had a chance."
"It's not too late," said Niles.
"No, no, we'll wait on that. If he starts looking into downstate hospitals that might change my mind. But for now, let's leave it alone. Less room for a foul-up."
"How's your lady friend?"
Jana smiled and looked across at the parking lot. Old men were delivering old women by the carload beneath the portico's valet drop-off. He shivered. He would never allow himself to be that old and decrepit. Just wouldn't allow it.
"My lady friend is starting to like me. This just might work. Now we just need to follow up with the life insurance agent and make sure all is well there. Can you handle that for me?"
"Sure. You’ve decided you definitely want to increase the policy limits?"
"I do. Let's make it five million."
"You've got it. You'll have to keep her alive for sixty days to get beyond the contestability period for accidental death," Niles reminded his employer.
Jana said, "She's going to take longer than sixty days. She’s still a strong earner with the men.”
“I could hit that again,” said Niles.
“My wife? You’re talking about fucking my wife?”
“Sorry, does that upset you?”
Jana erupted in laughter. “Got you! Just pulling your leg, Niles. Of course you can have her. All you want!”
He couldn’t stop laughing.
29
Danny
Just as I am being wheeled through the hospital’s main door, I turn to my aide. He has worked with me over the months and I love him like a brother. He has lifted me out of bed when I couldn't sit up or walk, put me back in bed when I couldn't climb in, wheeled me around to therapy, group, helped me with bathroom needs—he has done it all. I kiss him a goodbye peck on the cheek and he knows, he knows from the tears in my eyes how grateful I am to him.
The valet returns with Jana's car. I watch as Jana tips the kid, and then he climbs inside the car and turns to look for me. He puts it in PARK and the motor revs. The attendant helps me into the passenger seat. It does not feel familiar. I watch as the attendant carefully moves my leg into the car. Actually, I am much stronger than the attendant knows. He stands back and salutes me.
The load-up is almost easy. My physical recovery is coming along really well. I exhale and settle back in my seat. Jana reaches across and adjusts my seatbelt. "There."
The sky is gray but glaring and hurts my eyes. I open the glove box and rummage around inside.
"Looking for your sunglasses?" Jana asks.
"I think so."
"Evidently you were wearing them when you crashed down the ravine. The police have them, according to the report."
"Okay."
"But I'll stop and we'll find another pair for you."
"That would be nice. The glare is really bad."
"Do you have any place else you need to stop on the way home?"
"I'm hungry. How are we fixed for food?"
Jana smiles. "You know, I think we should kick this off with a celebration meal. How does that sound to my girl?"
I smile and try to catch his eyes with my own. He makes me happy. "That sounds like something your girl would really like. It's my chance to spend more time with you alone."
We pull into traffic and Jana noses the SUV southbound. Fifteen minutes later, he pulls off the controlled access highway, into a mid-priced restaurant that is landscaped with young pines and features valet parking.
He comes around and helps me down out of the SUV and grips my elbow as we hurry toward the entrance through the blowing wind. I notice flecks of snow whizzing past my face as we go across the asphalt. This is the first weather I've encountered in months. It feels good to be back in the world. Temperatures out here are real. The hospital offers a 24-hour climate that never changes from day-to-day and month-after-month. I gulp down a lungful of air and I feel my eyes tear up. For the first time since the accident I feel a squeeze of joy in my heart; life is wonderful. All the rehab has been worth it. Now I am really ready to get on with the business of living.
We go inside and sit down. The waitress brings menus and we order. I study my husband out of the corner of my eye. Then I ask, "What kind of things do I like to do at home?"
"You always liked to cook, usually the evening meal, and you always liked it when I joined you in the kitchen and helped. You also like sewing art quilts. Remember that Harlem Renaissance painter Ellis Wilson? You took one of his paintings and did it as an art quilt. You remember? People come to our house and see that and immediately offer you money for it. You could make all the money you can spend if you decided to, right there. Very impressive art."
"So I have a sewing machine?"
"No, you gave away your last machine to a halfway house. It was a home
for young girls, and they did lots of sewing and mending. But not to worry, we can get you another sewing machine when you're ready. I think you had a Bernina. Does that sound about right?"
I think about that, and nothing comes to me. Our two coffees arrive. I'm still wondering about Bernina and wondering if I've ever heard the word before and then I take a drink from my cup. I put it down and ask Jana, "What do I like in my coffee?"
"Cream," Jana says. "Half-and-half is your preference."
I pour a stream of half-and-half out of a small silver pitcher into my coffee cup. Then I stir it around, thinking about sewing. For the life of me, I can't dredge up any knowledge of sewing, much less quilting. And Ellis Wilson? I'll have to look that up on a computer.
"Do I have a computer?"
"You did, but it was lost in the accident. Whoever stole your purse took your laptop too. You want me to stop at the Apple Store and get you another one?"
"That would be nice. Just looking around the restaurant, half the people in here have computers with them. I'd like one, if we can afford it."
"We can in about two weeks. I get another check then."
"Well, if that's too much to spend, that's all right too. I can't remember ever using one from before. But maybe one can jog my memory about some old stuff."
Jana looks away from me. He is weighing something, a trait I've picked up on three times now. Then he says, "I'll look into a computer right away. Thanks for telling me what you need. Anything you want is yours."
"Did I like dogs?"
"Yes. We didn't have one because you were trying to decide on a breed."
"They had therapy dogs in the hospital. I think I'd really like a pound puppy. Just a sweet, loving mongrel."
"We can definitely do that. I love dogs too and I was really hoping you would go ahead with it."
"Great." Then I shiver. "I'm really enjoying this. And Jana, you're just being so patient with me. Evidently I made some fantastic choices in my prior life. I'm talking about you."
He blushes. "You're my first love." His eyes are misty. "I'll always be there for you."
Voices In The Walls: A Psychological Thriller (Michael Gresham Series) Page 12