A Dizzying Balance

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A Dizzying Balance Page 2

by Harriet E Rich


  “Jennette!” He hurried across the room. “Oh, Jen, everyone’s been so worried. I was half out of my mind when I saw you in the ambulance. And the Jag – what a mess!” He squeezed her hand as the doctor stepped toward the bed. Glancing up at her and then back to Jen, he hurried on. “I can’t stay right now, hon. I’ve got to leave you to the tender mercies of the medical profession. Dr. Addoms has tests she needs to run but first you gotta tell me where you went so suddenly. You were gone two days without a word, and it wasn’t easy keeping it from the newspapers. We almost called the police to start a search. Why did you leave?” He saw the pain on her face. “No, never mind. Don’t try to tell me now. We can talk later. I’ll call the house and let them know you’re awake, then I’ve got to give the press the word that you’re all right. You just take it easy.” He kissed her gently on the cheek and headed for the door.

  Her voice, weak and desperate, stopped him. “Wait … don’t go … I don’t understand.” She looked helplessly between the doctor and the man. “Who are you? Am I supposed to know you? Please,” she cried, her eyes wide with confusion, “please, tell me who you are.”

  Chapter Four

  The man swung around. “Jennette, honey, what are you talking about? Of course, you know us. Well, I guess you haven’t actually met Dr. Addoms, but you know me,” he laughed. “Quit joking around.”

  “I … I’m sorry,” she lifted a hand, “but I don’t know you.”

  “What the –? You do know me. You’ve known me for years. I’m Tony!”

  “Mr. Manelli, please calm down and let’s take this one step at a time.” Dr. Addoms stepped up to the bed, reaching for the blood-pressure cuff. “Miss Colson, we’re all very relieved that you’re finally awake. It’s been three days since the accident.”

  “Accident?”

  “You were in a very bad car crash not far from your home.” She tightened the cuff and took the measurement. “The reading is a little on the high side but nothing to worry about.” She set up a thermometer and then checking her watch, she reached to take Jen’s wrist. Tony started to speak but she stopped him with a look. “So. You still have a low-grade temperature and your pulse is racing.” Jen flinched as a narrow beam of bright light swept across her eyes, flashed up, flashed back again. The doctor put away her penlight and carefully lifted the sleeve of Jen’s hospital gown, gently probing an angry-looking bruise that stretched from shoulder to elbow.

  “Ouch.”

  “Yes, it’s going to be sore for some time to come. Nothing’s broken, but the muscles and ligaments were torn pretty badly. Obviously, the less you use your arm the sooner it will heal, so now that you’ll be up and moving around, we’ll wrap it and I want you to keep it in a sling.”

  “My throat hurts. It’s hard to swallow.”

  “Your throat? You may be reacting to the pain medication. I’ll change it to tablets.” She checked the IV and made a few notes on the chart. “You’re not a hundred per cent by any means, but you’re coming along nicely considering your condition when the paramedics brought you in.”

  “Doctor …” Tony was getting impatient.

  “All right, Mr. Manelli, just let me ask a few questions first.” She turned to Jen. “What’s your name?”

  “It’s Jennette, I guess. Jennette Colson.”

  Tony interrupted with a smile. “That’s great. You do know who you are.”

  “No, Mr. … Manelli, is it?” She shook her head. “I only know that’s my name because it’s what everyone’s been calling me.”

  “Do you remember anything about the accident?” he asked anxiously.

  There was a wall in her mind, and she leaned against it trying to see beyond. The wall seemed solid and then suddenly: her heart pounding – dizzy – spinning – pain – “No!” she cried. Her hand came up to push it away. Her breath came in jerks. “No!”

  Dr. Addoms took her wrist again. “Easy now. What do you remember?”

  “Nothing. Just an awful blur.” She shivered. “I was terrified.”

  “Understandable. Mr. Manelli is going to let me ask the next few questions,” she said pointedly. “Aren’t you, Mr. Manelli?”

  Jen could see that Tony was shaken. He nodded and sat, a little unsteadily, in a chair against the wall.

  “All right.” The doctor turned back to Jen. “We’ll do this slowly. You know your name is Jennette Colson, but you don’t actually remember that that’s who you are, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know what you look like?”

  “No.” Surprise crossed her face. “I don’t. What an unusual thing.”

  “Your nose is broken but don’t worry about that.” The doctor pulled a small compact out of her coat pocket, opened it and handed it to Jen. “Go on, take a look.”

  At first, she hesitated, then braced herself and lifted the mirror to study her reflection. Unkempt red hair. Uncombed red bangs over dark purple-blue bruises surrounding both eyes. The lids were still so puffy that she could barely make out the color of the irises. An unusual green-gold, she thought. Strange but pretty. Her lower lip was cut and swollen on one side, the rest of her face between eyes and mouth just one big bandage across the broken nose she couldn’t see.

  “Not even an adoring mother could love this face,” she said with a lopsided grin, then winced as a small stab of pain hit the corner of her mouth.

  “Do you recognize yourself?”

  “No.”

  “Does any of your face look familiar?”

  “No, but I like the color of my eyes.”

  “So do I.” The doctor smiled. “Do you have any memories at all? Anything that comes to you easily without having to reach for it?”

  Jen laid her head back into the pillow and closed her eyes. After a moment, she spoke. “I remember a puppy I had when I was nine. A pretty little schnauzer. But your mirror and the length of my legs,” she waved at her outline under the blanket, “tell me that I’m not still a child.” Frowning, she rubbed her forehead. “A birthday party. I was twelve, maybe thirteen.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “I think I was prom queen but I’m not sure because I can’t remember my date and I must have had one, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Nothing more?”

  “No.” She opened her eyes. “I can’t seem to get past the end of high school. Bits and pieces before that time, but nothing at all after.”

  “Miss Colson, psychiatry isn’t my field – I’ll contact our specialist on staff and ask him to stop by to see you as soon as possible – but I’ll give you my un-expert opinion for what it’s worth, based as it is,” she smiled, “on practically no evidence.”

  “Yes, Doc. Please.” Tony stood up and walked to the side of the bed. “Anything that will help me make sense out of all this.”

  Jen nodded, and the doctor continued. “Amnesia is surprisingly common with head injuries in automobile accidents but when it occurs, it generally encompasses only a shortish period of time before, during and just after the accident. It’s unusual for the injured person to lose an entire lifetime of memories. You recaptured several isolated memories just now, each of which was a happy one and each of which occurred before you started your career. That could be significant. The amnesia apparently has been triggered by the physical injury to your head, but it may also be rooted in some emotional crisis that your mind has chosen to forget.”

  “But I don’t know of any emotional crisis!”

  “Precisely the point. Your mind may be protecting you from something you don’t want to remember.”

  “But she is going to remember, isn’t she? And when? How long is it going to take?”

  “How long is hard to say, but the odds are good that she’ll recover completely over time.” She turned to Jen. “I’ve got eight or ten tests that I want to run and Dr. Wisenbach, our psychiatrist, will surely have a number of his own to order. When you’re not being pulled, pushed, prodded and otherwise medically inconvenienced
, you are to rest completely. No excitement, no phone calls, very few visitors. Mr. Manelli, I can rely on your help with this?”

  “Absolutely. Shielding Jen and running interference for her is what I do.”

  “Then I don’t need to add no reporters?”

  “Oh, crap! What do I tell those vultures outside?”

  “Tell them the truth.”

  “The truth? You have got to be joking! If I tell them that the famous Jennette Colson has forgotten her entire acting career, it won’t take twenty-four hours for the sharks to start circling.”

  “Mr. Manelli – I mean, Tony – I’m an actress? A famous actress? That seems incredible the way I feel right now.” She looked up at him, embarrassed. “Er, what … that is, uh … who are you?”

  “Wow, this is weird!” Tony shook his head with a laugh. “Yes, Jen, you’re a famous actress, and I’m your agent.”

  “Oh.” She thought a moment. “Then you could tell the reporters the truth but not all of it. Dr. Addoms says that amnesia isn’t unusual with car accidents. Just tell them I can’t remember, let’s say, maybe the last three or four weeks. Only a few of us need to know that it’s more complicated than that.”

  “That shrink will have to know. You’ll tell Dr. Wisen-whatever, won’t you, Doc?” She nodded and Tony grinned. “Thanks, yeah this’ll work. This’ll do the trick – not too much, just enough. It’ll be the personal touch that they’ve been angling for.”

  “To go along with the broken nose?” Jen grinned.

  “Lord, don’t remind me! They’ve been chewing on that for three days,” he laughed. “I’m going to call the house and then go out and deal with the press. How long do you think Jen will be in the hospital?”

  “A week, maybe a little less.”

  “Good. If I’m lucky, I’ll convince them all to get off the front lawn and go away for now.” He bent down and dropped a kiss on Jen’s forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Take your time, Mr. Manelli. Miss Colson is going to rest now.”

  “But –”

  “Doctor’s orders, Tony.” Jen smiled and took his hand. “Thanks. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “Okay, kid, you sleep.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “I’ll be around when you wake up.”

  “If I may, I’ll walk out with you, Mr. Manelli. I’d like you to meet briefly with Dr. Wisenbach if he’s available, and also with Dr. Smith, the plastic surgeon.”

  The door swung shut behind them. Jen’s eyes drifted back to the painting. Need time to think … figure out how I’m going to get through this. Exhausted, she tried to lose herself in the painting, but her shoulder was aching. Ringing for the nurse, she asked for a pain pill, swallowed it, nestled her head into the pillow and fell asleep even before the throbbing had begun to subside.

  * * *

  She woke to shadows in the room. The only light came from a small lamp on a table in the corner beyond what she now considered to be ‘her’ painting. She saw a bright white shirtfront framed by dark lapels, a silk tie, sharp-creased black slacks and black soft leather loafers. The man’s face was lost in the gloom of the corner, but she could see that he was reading what appeared to be a legal document. There was an open attaché case on the floor at his feet.

  So far, she’d met only a few nurses, the doctor and Tony, and from what she’d seen of his rumpled sports jacket, loosened tie and general air of nervous energy? No, this couldn’t be Tony.

  She studied the stranger. His movements were quietly controlled; his pen made neat, decisive ticks as if marking important points on the page he was reading. Seemingly relaxed in the chair, he held himself with a tension that puzzled her. Concern? Impatience? If this man is ever nervous, he’s too self-contained to show it. And if he were to loosen that tie, it wouldn’t be in public.

  He appeared to be completely engrossed in his work, but he must have sensed that she was watching him for suddenly his hand stopped in mid-air and his head came up slowly. She still couldn’t see his face in the dark, but she knew he was looking at her.

  “So,” he said. “You’re awake.”

  She watched as he leaned forward to put his papers carefully away and click the case closed. Blond hair, strong jaw line, long tapering fingers. The rest was still shadowed, but as he sat back, she saw that he wasn’t smiling.

  “You look awful.” The tone of his words was so unexpectedly flat that Jen didn’t know how to respond. He went on. “As soon as you’re feeling better, you will have to look over these contracts and the other documents that I’ve brought. I’ll leave the case here so you can read through them and sign everything as soon as possible. The construction project can’t continue without these agreements.”

  “I don’t understand.” Jen had no idea who he was.

  “We’ve been over this before. The board meeting has already been postponed once because you chose to disappear in that irresponsible fashion without a word to anyone. Now there is this further delay.” He waved one elegant hand at the hospital room. “You may not give a damn about my family’s company, but I most certainly do, and I would appreciate your using a little of your precious time to take care of this business. The matter is becoming urgent.”

  His voice was cold and under her confusion, Jen felt her anger rising. “What are you talking about?”

  “Jennette …” he began, but she stopped him, her voice stronger.

  “Who are you?”

  “What do you mean, who am I?”

  “I mean just that. I don’t know who you are or to what you are referring. Who are you?”

  He stood up in one fluid motion, flipped on the overhead light and stalked across the room to her bed, clearly furious. “Now look, Jennette. Tony told me about this amnesia story, but if you think I’m going to play along with some crazy publicity stunt of yours, you don’t know me very well.”

  “I don’t know you at all!” Her fists were clenched in frustrated confusion. “If I’ve ever seen you before in my life, I don’t remember it!” Reaching for the control panel, she punched a button angrily and as the head of the bed rose further, she struggled to regain her temper. “It’s not a publicity stunt – how easy it would be if it were. You call me Jennette, but I know nothing of this Jennette’s life. Past the age of eighteen, it’s a blank!” She looked up at him angrily, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Please,” she said more quietly. “Please tell me who you are.”

  He stared at her. He was still angry, and it was clear that he didn’t believe her, but after a long moment of silence, he shrugged. “My name is David Kenting.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m your husband.”

  “My husband?” Oh, dear God! Jen looked up into his eyes – ice blue, hard, cynical. She shook her head, trying to understand. Married to this cold, angry man? “You’re my husband,” she said slowly. “Then my name is Mrs. Kenting.”

  “No. My mother is Mrs. Kenting. You are my wife, but you’ve never been anything but Miss Colson: the famous actress, the movie star, the one and only Jennette.”

  “Your wife.” Trying to ignore his sarcasm, she focused on this startling fact. “How long have we been married?”

  “Almost seven years.”

  “Seven years! How old am I?”

  “How old –?” He was losing his temper again. “Don’t be absurd. I haven’t time to play these silly games. I’ll leave the papers here and give you three or four days to look them over. Sign the ones for the Grass Valley project first. The others can wait if necessary since we can’t reschedule the board meeting until after you’ve been released from the hospital.” He turned to leave.

  “David?” The name felt strange on her tongue. “David, please,” she pleaded. “Help me.”

  He paused, still angry, but in the face of her obvious confusion, he relented. “We were married when you were twenty-five. Even my mother had to agree that it was a lovely wedding.” His mouth twisted. “Satisfied?”

  “Thank
you, David.” She watched him walk away and as he opened the door, she called softly, “Good night.”

  For a long moment, he looked back at her across the room. “Good night, Jennette,” he said and then was gone.

  * * *

  For two days, she slept and ate and slept again in between being subjected to all the medical and psychological tests that the doctors had ordered. Her face was still badly bruised, her nose swollen and sore. It was difficult to do things with her shoulder and arm wrapped up, but the nurses helped. And her first shower was heaven.

  When flowers and lovely plants began arriving, it was soon clear that there would be no space left in her room and she asked that they be carried in for her to see, then set up throughout the hospital for everyone to enjoy. Some of the cards were from people she was supposed to know but most weren’t. It was surprising that so many complete strangers cared about her so much. She smiled at one card that read Get well and take all the time you need. From your biggest fans in Pasadena, the Summerfield family.

  Physically she improved, slowly regaining her strength. Dr. Addoms assured her that she should heal completely with no permanent damage although it would be a slow process, but Dr. Wisenbach was more cautious. None of his tests had indicated any physical cause for the amnesia and psychologically she seemed fine. She just couldn’t remember the last thirteen years of her life.

  “It appears that, for some reason, your mind is blocking your memory, Miss Colson,” he smiled at Jen, “but you are not to worry about it. Worrying and trying to force yourself to remember will just make it worse. I want you to concentrate on getting physically stronger now. Later there will be plenty of time to work on remembering. In fact, in cases like this, memory often returns spontaneously.”

  “But it’s incredible. And frustrating. I feel so helpless.”

  “A completely natural feeling. That’s why I’ve asked Mr. Manelli to make sure that while you’re here in the hospital, you aren’t bothered by anyone or anything that will keep you from resting. I don’t want you to feel pushed or pressured in any way.”

 

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