“You make it sound as though she’s emotionally unstable,” Coop snapped angrily, tired of doctors and their theories. “I’ve been with the woman almost constantly in the last three days. Kelsey is one of the most stable people in this place.”
“Oh, I agree. Believe me, I wouldn’t characterize Kelsey’s condition as unstable at all,” Dr. Crowell insisted, overlooking his anger. “However, she is still quite sensitive emotionally.”
“What would be your thoughts on making her aware of the situation?” Mannie Cohen asked. “Is she strong enough to handle it?”
Gloria Crowell leaned back in her chair, resting her elbows on the arms. “If you want to know if I think she can take the truth right now, I’d have to say, of course. We could all get up right now and walk into her room and tell her everything, and I would bet she would still continue to get stronger, and her leg would still continue to mend. But if you’re asking me if we’d be doing her psyche any good—I’m afraid I’d have my doubts.”
“But if she’s better, and she’s strong enough, doesn’t she deserve to know?” Coop insisted.
Dr. Crowell shrugged. “Maybe we better decide right now exactly what it is we’re aiming for. I mean, do we want Kelsey to know her past, or do we want her to remember it? There’s a big difference.”
Coop’s frown deepened. “You make it sound like telling Kelsey the truth would prevent her from remembering at all.”
Gloria Crowell leaned forward, choosing her words carefully. “My opinion is as it’s always been—in the long run, I think it would be better for Kelsey to be allowed to remember on her own, and I think given enough time she will. As far as I’m concerned, simply sitting her down and reading off a list of things she doesn’t remember would only add to her anxiety and wouldn’t bring those memories back any faster. In fact, I think we run the risk of pushing them so deeply into her subconscious she might never be able to recover them.”
“Then what do we do?” Mo asked, sounding discouraged. “Go on pretending forever?”
“No, of course not,” she said, resting an assuring hand on his arm. “And it’s not a matter of forever. I’m just talking about giving her a real chance. It’s only been a few days. We’re just getting started here. It’s going to take more than a few days to convince her it’s okay to remember.”
“Okay to remember?” Coop shook his head and laughed sadly. “I’m sorry, Doc, that’s sounding real close to psychobabble. Why wouldn’t Kelsey feel it was okay to remember?”
Gloria Crowell had to smile. “Think of it this way, Mr. Reed. Selective amnesia is just that—selective. Patients tend to pick and choose what they don’t want to remember. Most of the time they hang onto the good and block out the rest.” She paused, her smile fading and her voice turning thoughtful. “Kelsey found a place in her past where she could feel safe. We all know her history, we all know what she’s blocked out, and it’s not difficult to understand why. It’s how she survived the fear of being buried alive, how she survived the trauma of being trapped, of being severely injured. She went to a place in her mind where she felt safe and blocked out everything else. And it’s my feeling she’s not going to remember until she feels it’s safe to do so.”
Coop felt a dull throb start to pulsate at his temples. He would have liked nothing more than to stand up and start ranting again, to vent some of the frustration building in his chest and accuse them all of not knowing what they were talking about. Unfortunately, what Gloria Crowell said made sense. As painful as those memories would be for her, Kelsey deserved a chance to remember, a chance to feel whole again.
“So where does that leave us?” he asked, looking at each of the doctors facing him. “I take her home? Continue to act like we’re married?” He tossed his hands up, giving them all a deliberate look. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I can see some obvious complications arising from a situation like that. Kelsey may have forgotten we’re divorced, but I haven’t.”
Mannie Cohen leaned back in his chair, tapping a thoughtful finger along his lips. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be as difficult as you think. After all, it wouldn’t be as though you’d be assuming, uh, well...” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean, she still has a lot of recuperating to do. She’s going to need bed rest, special care that will limit her physical activity considerably.”
“Not to mention that she has a heavy cast on her leg,” Vince Hamilton added. “That could be reason enough for you to suggest sleeping in a guest room.”
Coop listened as they discussed the possibilities, feeling tense and overwhelmed. How had things gotten so out of hand? How could they expect him to do this? It had been one thing to sit at her bedside, to hold her hand and share a meal tray with her. But to live together?
He thought of the house they had bought together, the house high in the hills overlooking Santa Barbara and the blue Pacific, the house they had shared as husband and wife. Stepping into a life that had been over for two long years seemed unthinkable. In the past three days, the lines between reality and fantasy, between marriage and divorce had blurred. They would be in danger of disappearing completely if he and Kelsey started living together.
“I want to help,” he murmured after a moment. “I really do, I just don’t know if I can—”
“No,” Mo said firmly, cutting him off and slowly rising to his feet. “This isn’t right, this isn’t what we agreed on.” He turned and looked at Coop. “I never meant for this to happen. When I asked for your help, I never dreamed it would go this far. It isn’t fair to you, and it isn’t fair to Kelsey.” He turned to the three doctors. “I think we should tell her everything, tell her the truth.”
Gloria Crowell’s gaze darted from Mo to Coop, then back again. “Of course, it’s up to you,” she conceded reluctantly. “And I don’t mind admitting I’m disappointed. I certainly understand your reluctance, and if it’s your decision not to continue, I think we should go to Kelsey as soon as possible and—”
“No.” Coop stood up, turning to Mo. “Look, Mo, I appreciate you giving me the option, I really do, but I can’t let you do it.”
“But, Coop, I can’t ask you to—”
“You’re not asking,” Coop insisted. “It’s my choice, my decision.” He stopped, drawing in a deep breath, knowing he’d never really had a choice. He would never be able to live with himself if he walked out on her now. “Dr. Crowell is right. We’re not talking forever, we’re just talking about giving Kelsey a chance.”
“Coop,” Mo said, his tired eyes bright with tears. “I don’t think you realize... I mean, after everything that happened, I don’t think you know—”
“What I’m getting myself into?” Coop finished for him with a sad laugh. “I think I have a pretty good idea.” He turned and faced his former father-in-law. “Mo, we’re talking about Kelsey here, and giving her back her life. There’s no decision about it, it’s what has to be done.” He sat down, and gestured to the chair beside him. “Now, sit down and let’s figure out how we’re going to do this.”
Chapter 5
“There, how does that feel?”
Kelsey tested the seat belt and shoulder harness that anchored her in the seat. “Feels good.”
“Sure they’re not too tight?” Coop asked, wedging an extra pillow between the door panel and her cast. “Because I can loosen them a little.”
Kelsey watched as he fidgeted over her, tucking and adjusting, moving the seat and repositioning her heavy cast. She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “I’m fine, really. Quit fussing.”
Coop leaned back. He was fussing, too much, probably, but he was edgy and uneasy. It had taken a small miracle to prepare for her homecoming, but with the help of Mo and Kelsey’s two sisters, they’d managed to get things done. Her clothes hung in the closet next to his, and her toothbrush was in his medicine cabinet. Yet despite their efforts, the house looked a far cry from the way it had when she’d lived there. She’d no doubt have questions, but he’d cross
that bridge when they got to it.
“Sorry,” he said, releasing a deep sigh. “Just want you to be comfortable.”
“It’s a twenty-five minute flight—thirty tops. I’ll be fine,” she insisted, settling in the seat. “I still don’t know why you didn’t just let me ride to Santa Barbara with you yesterday.”
“I told you, because I wanted to fly you in the copter.” He turned and gave the hard cast on her leg a small rap with his knuckles. “You wouldn’t have been very comfortable in the car with this thing.”
“I wanted out of this place so badly,” she mumbled, peering at the towering hospital building, “I would have been willing to walk.”
“Well, you’re not going to be walking anywhere for a while,” he said, taking a blanket and tossing it over her lap. “You’re going to rest. Otherwise I’ll haul your cute bottom right back here.”
She laughed, reaching up and pushing his long hair from his forehead. “You’d have to catch me first.”
He saw the sparkle in her eyes and felt emotion swell in his heart. He was almost used to being around her again, of her wanting to touch and tease and kiss him again—almost. “Feeling a little feisty this morning, are we?”
She started to laugh again, but something distracted her. As he watched, the smile on her lips faded, and her expression grew thoughtful.
“What is it?” he asked, wondering if a memory had been triggered, if something had come back.
“Your hair,” she murmured absently.
“What about it?”
Her fingers drifted to his sideburn. “There’s a little gray in it.” She lifted her gaze to his. “In the sunlight, I can see it. You’ve got gray in your hair.”
He smiled, but the look in her eyes concerned him. “How nice of you to point that out.”
“No,” she said, ignoring the humor in his voice. “I...I never noticed before.”
“Just be grateful it isn’t stark white after the scare you gave me,” he said dryly, hoping to coax her out of the somber mood.
But his teasing couldn’t budge her. Instead, her hand went to her own hair. She putted a long strand from behind her shoulder and examined it. “Is there a mirror in here?”
“What are you doing?” He knew exactly what she was doing. He gently pulled her hand away. “You don’t have any gray hair.”
“I want to look,” she insisted, grabbing her hair again.
“Kelsey, stop,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. “What is it? What’s the matter? You’re getting upset. Why?”
She looked at him, her eyes filled with emotion. “I...I hadn’t thought to notice before. I mean, I looked in the mirror this morning—I brushed my hair, brushed my teeth, but I didn’t even pay attention. There are so many things I never paid any attention to before....”
Her voice drifted off, and she gave her head a shake. She was upset, and it had to stop. Time had passed, time she didn’t remember. But that was hardly news to her now. She would remember someday, but until then she had to find a way to live with the gaps, to live with the little surprises she was bound to encounter. She had to stop breaking down at the slightest provocation, had to stop allowing emotion and fear to interrupt and interfere. This was a great day—she was going home! The memory loss had cost her enough already. She didn’t want it to cost her the joy of this day, as well.
“Tell me,” he prompted. “Why the sad face?”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted, pulling away just a little. She hated the fear that nibbled at the edge of her consciousness, hated feeling emotional and out of control. “It’s just... It still throws me, I guess, coming face-to-face with something I’ve forgotten. I mean, it’s been almost a week, you’d think I’d be used to it by now. Yet it still gets to me. There is part of my life—” She stopped, searching his face. “Parts of our life that are missing. A million little things. Like whether I have gray in my hair or not. Just little things that are gone, and it unnerves me when I come across them.”
“You know, it’s not going to be that way forever,”he reminded her, all too aware of what it was going to cost them both when she finally did fill in all those blanks. “There’s every reason to believe those memories will come back.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, running her palm along his cheek. “And I do believe that, I really do. It’s just a little unnerving when you assume things are one way, and then you find out they’re not that way at all. I just don’t know what to expect anymore.”
Coop felt her words like a blow. She believed they were married, and someday she was going to realize the truth. That realization was going to do more than unnerve her, and he just hoped he would be given a chance to explain.
“Maybe the best thing would be to try to take things as they come,” he suggested.
“Like gray hair?”
He heard the teasing tone and sagged with relief. “You don’t have gray hair,” he stated flatly, slowly releasing his hold on her arm and helping her settle in the seat again. He didn’t want to think about the risks that lay ahead. It was enough to get through one emotional hurdle at a time, and taking her to the house they’d once shared as man and wife was going to be a high one. “I’m the only one getting old around here.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Kelsey laughed, glancing down at the long strand of her hair lying across the front of her robe. “But when I get home I’m getting in front of the mirror and taking a good look—see if I really look the way I think I do.”
He reached out suddenly, catching her chin in his hand. “If it means anything, I think you’re more beautiful now than you’ve ever been.”
The passion in his voice took her by surprise, and the smile slowly faded from her lips. “Coop,” she murmured. “I love you.”
“You two ready to go?”
They both looked up as Dr. Mannie Cohen came across the hospital helipad toward them, his white coat flapping against the wind.
“Just about,” Coop said, stepping out of the passenger compartment of the helicopter as the doctor approached. “Just have to get the engine warmed up, then we’ll be out of here.”
Dr. Cohen nodded, turned to Kelsey and ducked his head inside the aircraft. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a million bucks,” Kelsey said, smiling as she leaned forward to greet him. The move was a little too sudden, though, and sent a shooting pain down her leg, a not-so-subtle reminder of just how much recuperating she had left to do. She groaned, her smile cracking and slowly fading to a grimace. “Well, maybe a few dollars short of a million.”
Dr. Cohen smiled. “So it isn’t necessary for me to remind you to take it easy?”
“No,” Kelsey said, rubbing the muscle along her thigh. “I think I get the message.”
“You’ll need these,” he said, holding up the manila folder he carried in his hand. “They’re your release papers. I wanted to bring them personally.” He handed the folder to her. “You’re officially sprung.”
Kelsey looked at the papers, and then into Mannie Cohen’s round, smooth face. “Thank you,” she said, her throat tight with emotion. “You’ve been great—about everything. I really appreciate it.”
“Thank me by taking care of yourself,” he said, giving her arm a comforting pat. “And remember, bed rest for the first week, keep your activities at an absolute minimum, then just slow and easy after that. Got it?”
Kelsey smiled. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.”
“And I’ll be monitoring your progress with Dr. Crowell, so if you don’t keep your appointments, you’ll have me to contend with.”
“Anything but that,” she teased dryly.
“Regular meals, plenty of sleep,” he continued. “And I want you here in three weeks for a checkup.”
“All right, all right,” Kelsey said, rolling her eyes. “You know I got all this when we went over it the first time.”
He arched a brow and gave her a deliberate look. “Yes, and we all know how qu
ickly patients tend to forget the promises they make before being checked out.”
“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I won’t forget.” She glanced at Coop. “I’ve got too many people around to remind me.”
Dr. Cohen followed her gaze. “Yeah, I guess you do.” He turned to Kelsey. “He’s a good man.”
“I know,” Kelsey mused, watching Coop as he walked around the helicopter, making small adjustments here and there. “Sometimes I think I’ve got to be the luckiest woman alive.”
“And the other times?”
Kelsey looked at Dr. Cohen. “Other times, I know it.”
Dr. Cohen leaned close, his hand covering hers, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Good luck, and promise you’ll call me if you need anything. Promise?”
Kelsey covered his hand with her free one. “I promise. And thanks again.”
Dr. Cohen walked to the front of the aircraft, where Coop stood waiting.
“She looks good,” he commented. “You’ve been good for her.”
Coop drew in a deep breath and shook his head. “Let’s see if you feel the same way when you see her in three weeks. I’m not sure I can pull this thing off.”
“Look,” Dr. Cohen said hesitantly. He shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I don’t pretend to know what went on with the two of you, what happened with the divorce and everything, but I’ve had time to watch you together, to see they way you are together—”
“You’re right, Doc,” Coop said, cutting him off. He didn’t want to talk about what he had lost, what once had been there, but disappeared. “You don’t know what happened.”
“The kind of love I see in Kelsey’s eyes when she looks at you isn’t something that changes.”
Coop’s hands balled into. fists and he walked several steps from the helicopter. “Damn it, Doc, don’t do this,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve got to walk away from this thing. She’s going to remember, and everything’s going to be back the way it was before the accident. Nothing’s going to change.”
Mind Over Marriage Page 7