Of Body And Soul

by L. J. Valentine

  "They had reservations at the Sonnenalp Resort."

  "That's where I told the doctor I thought they'd be."

  "Grayson, is she going to lose . . . ?

  "We don't know yet,” she cried. “The next twenty-four hours will be the deciding factor for both of them.”

  "Michael's out of town, but I'll be there as soon as I can get a plane. Hang in there, Grayson."

  "I will." Grayson settled the phone in its cradle and looked down on Andrea. “Be brave, my dear, and fight,” she whispered.

  The doctor helped her back to the armchair. "I'll have one of the nurses call the hotel immediately."

  Andrea heard soft voices. She opened her eyes to narrow slits and saw nothing but deep, dark, grayness, like a winter sky, threatening and heavy. She blinked away tears. The pain. Oh God. So much pain.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  "Mr. Purcell, this is room service. When I called the front desk to verify the room number you wanted dinner brought too, they said Mrs. Purcell had checked out."

  "What? When?"

  "I'm not at liberty to give you this information, Sir."

  "What the hell do you mean? I'm her husband."

  "You can get the information from the front desk, Sir."

  "Thanks for nothing." He slammed the phone down. I'll get to the bottom of this, he thought. He rushed out of his room and took the elevator down to the front desk.

  "May I help you, Sir?"

  "Yes,” he said.

  Once he knew where she'd gone, he apologized for his behavior and asked the desk clerk to make a reservation on a flight to Sante Fe. He also asked to have a car ready for him when he arrived at the airport.

  “I’ll get right on this, Sir.”

  "Thank you. I'll be in my room. Would you call me with the departure time?"

  "Yes, Sir, I will."

  Kurt went back to his room and turned on the TV to the weather channel. A severe storm had developed pounding, the area with no mercy. As he listened to the weather man and watched the map, his heart sank. Will I be able to get out” he thought. He didn’t know what to do. Never before had he felt so vulnerable. This was unlike what his father did to him. This was different. He loved Andrea. Why was he so afraid of what children would bring? Of what children might make him? A knot formed in his throat. He tried to clear it, but it would not let go. Andrea, I am so sorry. How could I have treated you so badly? How will I ever be able to make this right? He buried his face in his hands and cried.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The shrilling of the phone made him jump. Kurt dried his eyes and picked it up.

  “Mr. Purcell, I’m sorry. I couldn't get you a flight out tonight. The airport is closed due to extreme weather conditions."

  “I know. I’ve been watching the weather. Thanks for your trouble.”

  “I did arrange a flight out tomorrow morning at 9:00, if the airport opens.”

  “That’s great. Thank you.” Kurt ran his fingers through his hair and walked over to the bar. This time he poured a glass of Ginger Ale and turned off the TV. He stared aimlessly, sulking in his own private nightmare. The terror he remembered last night validated his decision. I can't let . . . no, I can’t allow this terror to permeate my home. I can't have my children live in fear, like I did, fear that a volcano of rage will erupt at any moment. Deep down I want a child but I am so afraid of what I would be like.

  Though he had some counseling, he knew breaking the cycle would take a lot of courage. He knew he must stop acting like a victim. Was he ready for that? Could he let go of the demons and began a new life as a father?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Pain exploded in Andrea's head. She tried to shift her position, but realized her right arm was in a sling. A volcano erupted in her stomach, causing her to choke back the bile that tried to escape. What happened to me? Was it a plane crush? Car accident? What? No imprint came back, not even a memory of fear. She closed her eyes, straining to recollect something. Anything. “Andrea, Andrea," someone whisper.

  She tried to shake her head in rejection—not wanting to open her eyes—not wanting to feel the intense pain—not wanting to think.

  "Andrea. Please wake up, dear." Grayson's voice quivered.

  "No," she mumbled. She tried to clear her head. "No."

  "You must! You must for your child," the determined voice said over and over again.

  For a long time, Andrea tried to digest what the soft voice said. She swam from light to dark—from dark to light a number of times. She was tired. She needed to sleep. The past lay behind her in a dark chasm with no end. And as she walked deeper into the abyss the darkness enveloped her.

  “Andrea! Wake up now. Fight to stay awake. Fight for your baby's sake."

  She opened her eyes to a room as bright as the fireworks on the Fourth of July. A woman stood over her smiling, her eyes soft and loving.

  "Hello," Grayson said cautiously.

  Andrea stared at the woman with vacant look in her eyes. "Where am I?" she whimpered. She tried to move, but the pain in her head overwhelmed her and she lay back, scanning the room. Nothing came to her but a dark blur, like a heavy downpour in her brain, threatening and revolving and without focus.

  "Try not to move," said the soft voice anxiously.

  "Why do I hurt? Am I in a hospital?"

  "You were in a car accident, and yes, you are in a hospital in Santa Fe."

  "Sante Fe? Do I live here? How long have I been here? What day is it?" she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  "You had an accident yesterday afternoon. You've been unconscious ever since."

  "What day is it, and who are you?" she asked, bewildered.

  Grayson tried to hide her shock. "I'm Grayson Garrison, an old friend, and it’s Friday evening. You were on your way to spend some time with me when the accident occurred."

  "You called me Andrea. Andrea who?"

  "Andrea Purcell."

  "Andrea Purcell?" she repeated. "Where am I from? Am I badly hurt?" she asked as she looked down at her arms. One was in a sling and the other wrapped in bandages.

  "You are from Kinderhook, New York, and yes, you're badly hurt. The doctor said in time you will heal. You have a severe concussion, a severely sprained right arm, a multitude of cuts and bruises, and a broken leg. You also have two fractured ribs."

  Andrea said nothing. Her head whirled and throbbed in an effort to discover anything in the deep hole that she had fallen into. Just one clear, concrete memory. She blinked away the tears, closed her eyes, and welcomed the darkness of the abyss.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The morning flight to Sante Fe went smoothly. As Kurt waited at Alamo for the car to be brought around, he had second thoughts about his decision to drive to the Inn in Taos. The desk clerk at the hotel had informed him of Andrea’s arrangements to go there. But what if she had changed her mind and decided to go home to New York instead? Maybe he should get right back on another plane to New York.

  Kurt pulled out his Apple iphone 4S and touched home. It rang four times before the answering machine picked-up. You have one message, the machine said. Kurt listened in silence to the message from the Taos Police. He looked over at the agent, motioning for a pen and paper. He replayed the message and jotted down the officer’s name and phone number. He dialed the number. “I’d like to speak with Sergeant McKinney.”

  “Who’s calling?”

  “Kurt Purcell.”

  “Wait one moment, please.”

  “Mr. Purcell. This is Sergeant McKinney. I have some bad news. Your wife has been in an accident, and is in the ICU at St. Vincent Regional Medical Center in Sante Fe.”

  Kurt could not register what he was hearing. “What did you say?”

  The Sergeant repeated the information, and then asked, “Sir, where are you?”

  “I’m at the Sante Fe airport. Can you give me directions to the hospital?”

  “I’ll call the Sante Fe Police Department and hav
e them send a squad car for you.”

  “I just rented a car. Can I follow it to the hospital?”

  “Yes, you can. What rental agency?”

  “I’ll wait for the car in front of Alamo.”

  “Wait a minute. I have one of my staff speaking with Sante Fe.” He paused.

  “Stay put. An officer is only five minutes away.”

  Kurt’s hands shook when he took the car keys from the rental agent.

  “Mr. Purcell. Are you able to drive?” the agent asked.

  “I’ll be fine. Thanks for asking.”

  The rental was waiting when Kurt rushed out the door. He looked around for the patrol car. He checked his watch. Minutes later a patrol car pulled up to him

  “Mr. Purcell.” The policeman asked.

  Kurt nodded. “How far is the hospital from here?”

  “Follow me, Sir. It’s about eight miles away.”

  Kurt got behind the wheel, started the car, and turned the lights on. He waited for the officer to pull out ahead of him. Heavy traffic and snow caused them to drive slowly.

  They have been driving for more the twenty minutes. Kurt hit the stirring wheel. “What the hell is taking so long.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  She was sleeping when he entered the room. Her head was cradled in a form of traction; one arm was in a sling and the other arm, completely covered with bandages. Where there were no bandages, there were intravenous tubes. Her right leg was in a cast from the knee down to her ankle. She moaned in her sleep and thrashed about. Her two black eyes stood out in contrast to the stark white of the gauze wrapped around her head.

  Suddenly, he was a little boy again, fighting back the tears he was too old to shed, and feeling the suffocation of a child's fear. He sat by the bed. "Dear God, what have I done to you?" he cried.

  Grayson cleared her throat, to make him aware he was not alone. He turned. Immediately, he knew who she was. Not a word was spoken between them as they automatically gravitated to each other. They wept openly, and held on to each other as if their holding on would bring Andrea back to them, safe and sound.

  “What do you know?” he asked Grayson.

  “She has had a severe head injury. The doctors had to relieve the pressure.”

  “What does all that mean?”

  Kurt had an inkling of what the doctors did. He’d been in Afghanistan long enough to see many head injuries and their long-lasting results. “Is there hope?”

  “There’s always hope.”

  Kurt sat close to the bed and held Andrea’s hand. He picked it up and brought to his lips. “I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you, my love.”

  Grayson laid her hand on his shoulder. “When she comes to, she’s going to need all the patience and love that we can give. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know.” Kurt wanted to ask about the baby, but he was afraid of what he might here. He turned to Grayson and took a deep breath. “The baby. Is he . . . .?”

  “So you think it’s a boy, also.” Grayson smiled and rubbed his shoulders. “The doctor said the baby should be fine. They will have to do an ultrasound to make sure, but for now the doctor is in no rush to do the procedure.”

  “Did Andrea tell you we had an argument?”

  Grayson nodded. “She told me when she had called and asked if she could come to the Inn. She didn’t go into details.”

  “I will do anything to make what I said right. I love Andrea more than life itself and I know I can change. I will change.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The next morning, Andrea opened her eyes to a basket of indigo violets and a handsome man sitting at her bedside. He held her hand and his head rested on the bed. By the sound of his breathing, she knew he was sleeping. The older woman, who was there before, was also sound asleep. Who are they? She thought and drifted off feeling safe and secure.

  "Andrea. Andrea. Wake up," Kurt said softly. "Your breakfast has arrived." He touched her gently as he pulled the table over to the bed.

  She opened her eyes. The handsome man with deep blue eyes was talking to her. She reached for the violets, but the intravenous bottles and tubes kept her reach limited.

  He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at her. He brought the back of the bed into position. "Come," he said, and lifted her into a sitting position. She moaned with every move. "I'm sorry, but there's no other way to get closer to the table." He removed the silver cover off the breakfast tray.

  "You have to eat to build your strength."

  She gave him a hard look. His movements were familiar. "The violets are lovely. Who sent them?" she asked her voice barely audible.

  "They had them down in the gift shop. I thought you'd like to see flowers when you woke up."

  "I just love violets," she said. "Thank you. Hmm. I don't know your name. Are you my nurse?"

  Kurt went rigid and took a deep breath. "My name's Kurt. You might say I'll be looking after you for a while."

  "And I'm Grayson. I was here the other night," the older woman said, walking toward Andrea. "We're friends and I have a place here. When you're released, you'll spend time with me until you recuperate and you are able to return to New York, if that's okay with you." She smiled, warm and bright. As the two women talked, the doctor appeared at the door.

  "Sir, may I talk with you outside?" the doctor asked.

  Kurt stepped out into the corridor.

  "Mr. Purcell, I’m Doctor Reynolds.” The two men shook hands. “I know you have a lot of questions.”

  “Andrea doesn’t know who I am? She thinks I’m her nurse.”

  “You know her amnesia will be temporary," the doctor stated as a matter of fact. "The baby is fine, and I feel it's about time we tell her she's pregnant. Of course, I don't want her doing anything strenuous. I want her on complete bed rest for about two weeks. The cast will come off in about five weeks and by that time, her cuts and bruises should be healed completely.

  And then," he patted Kurt on the back, "You can take your beautiful wife home."

  Grayson said she told Andrea she was pregnant, but I guess it never registered. Are you sure she's going to be all right?" Kurt asked, concerned.

  "Mother and child will be fine. But you," he laughed, "are another story. By the look of concern and love that escapes from your eyes, I know you'll have a happy wife and a healthy child."

  "When will we be able to take her to Wyndemere?"

  "Not for five or six days. I'd like to do some neurological testing, and then possibly she can go to Mrs. Garrison’s home to recuperate."

  "Doctor, there's something you need to know."

  "What is it?" he asked, touched by the sadness he saw in Kurt's eyes.

  “The accident occurred because of me. Andrea and I had an argument over her pregnancy. I told her I didn't want any children. I lied to her before we got married. I told her I'd like to wait at least two years, knowing full well that I never wanted children at all. And when she told me we would have a child in June, I walked out on her."

  "My God, Kurt. I can't believe this. I don't know you, but from what I've seen, you adore her. You seem to worship the ground she walks on."

  "I do, but. . . .”

  "But what?"

  "I was an abused child. I don't want to do the same thing to my child. That's why I don't want a family."

  "If you feel that strongly about it, get counseling."

  "I had counseling when I was younger, and there wasn’t any indication that I've been affected by the abuse."

  "Then what seems to be the problem?"

  "I guess I'm afraid. I love children. But the question is, will I love my own?"

  "I have no doubt about that, but if you feel there's a question, I have a colleague who specializes in cases like yours. You plan to stay here until Andrea's fully recuperated, don't you?"

  "I have to stay. Andrea thinks I'm her nurse and I'll be taking care of her at La Wyndemere de Taos."

  Doctor Reynolds gave hi
m a troubled look. "Why haven't you told her you're her husband?"

  Kurt shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I don't want to see any more hurt in her eyes.”

  "I'll get you an appointment with Phil Correo. He's a good friend of mine. I know you'll like him and I'm confident he'll set you straight."

  "Thanks, Doctor Reynolds." Kurt shook his hand. "Can you give me directions to the police station? I need to find out where they took the rental Andrea was driving."

  "Why?" The Doctor looked at him bewildered.

  Kurt smiled at him. "I need to get something out of the trunk which may jog her memory."

  While Doctor Reynolds and Kurt stood there talking, a nurse approached Kurt with a message. Kurt read the note. "Oh damn, my sister Emily is snowed in at JFK Airport. She may not get here until tomorrow and I need to call her. Thank you for all your help. I'll talk to you later, Doctor."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  "I think you'll be coming to Wyndemere de Taos in four or five days," Grayson said, as she spooned hot chicken soup into Andrea's mouth.

  Tears formed in Andrea's eyes. “What is Wyndemere . . . ?”

  “It’s an Inn with a lovely restaurant and beautiful scenery. Right now, the mountains are covered with snow.” Grayson paused. “It will be a great place to recuperate.”

  “You take care of me as if I were your daughter.”

  “You’re the daughter I never had.”

  "Oh, there's so much you'll have to tell me.” Andrea said crying. "I don't even know if I have parents."

  "I'm sorry, dear, but both your parents are gone,” Grayson said sympathetically. "They were my best friends. My husband, Charles and I spent a lot of time with them and you."

  Andrea felt numb, as if her feelings were paralyzed. "I thought they were, but I wasn't sure," she whispered.

  "I'm going to take care of you. Don’t worry about your future. I will be here for you no matter what happens." She held Andrea's hand gently in her own.