by Maggie Way
Why am I still obsessing about it? Shaking his head, John forced those thoughts away again. Looking more serious than he had ever seen her before, John wondered what she was thinking about. She said she wasn’t going anywhere, but something was bothering her.
“Lynn let me know the hospital will be releasing you tomorrow afternoon,” Gretchen said. “Dr. Sanchez had some good ideas about trying to find out who you are and where you came from, but there’s still the issue of what you’re going to do when you leave here.”
That was what was bothering her. John had been avoiding thinking about that very topic. He didn’t want to think about it at all, but he knew there was no escaping it.
“Have you thought very much about what you want to do?” Gretchen asked. Her hands weren't just idly rubbing now, they were pressing tightly against each other.
“Not really,” John said. “I’ve been trying not to think about it at all, actually.”
Nodding, Gretchen stayed thoughtful. She obviously had something to say. John wasn't sure what it was, but he hoped for a solution he could live with. Actually, even a solution he couldn’t live with was better than what he had. Nothing.
“John,” Gretchen hesitated, “this may be crazy for me to even offer, but I feel like I have to say it anyway. Please don’t think I'm nuts when I tell you what I’m thinking.”
What could she possibly plan to suggest? He doubted it was anything terrible, but she acted as though she were planning to drop him off at a serial killer’s house because he was offering free room and board. “Gretchen, whatever it is, I won’t think it’s crazy. I could use some suggestions at this point. Go ahead and tell me.”
“Okay, um, well, I don’t have any roommates, but I do have an extra bedroom,” she said. Her face was absolutely scarlet by this point. “I know you don’t really know me, but I thought that might be okay since you don’t really know anybody. With your injuries, you probably won’t be able to find a job for a while, so you won’t be able to pay for your own place. And I’m not asking you for any money. You’d be free to stay for as long or as little as you want, and I wouldn’t expect anything from you at all. I just want to make sure you’re going to be all right. I feel responsible for you. I can’t leave you to fend for yourself.”
John’s mouth fell open halfway through her spiel. He couldn’t make himself close it. The way everything spilled out of her in a mass of embarrassed rambling was a surprise in itself, but the offer was incredible.
“Are you serious?” John asked.
Her eyes widened for a second, and then her trembling voice said, “Yes.”
“Wow,” he said, “that wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“What did you think I was going to say?” Gretchen asked, confusion and curiosity in her eyes.
John choked on his own words. He was not about to tell her his original idea. “I don’t know, but I wasn't expecting you to offer to let me live at your house. Doesn’t that scare you?”
Gretchen frowned. “Does it scare you?”
“Living with you? No,” he said, “not at all.”
“Then why would it scare me?” she asked. Her indignant tone mirrored her expression.
“Because I could be anybody. I could be a criminal or a drunk or an abusive maniac, for all we know. You might be putting yourself at risk, Gretchen.” Didn’t that terrify her?
Folding her arms across her chest, her jaw set firmly in an annoyed grimace, Gretchen launched into her answer. “For your information, I know you’re not a criminal, unless you’re an extremely good one, because the police ran your fingerprints the second day you were here and they came back with nothing. As far as being a drunk, we’ll both just stay away from alcohol for a while, to be safe. And if you turn out to be abusive, the first sign of it I’ll just scream for my six-foot-four, oilfield worker neighbor and best friend, Carl, who has a huge crush on me, for help. I’m positive he’ll be there right away.” She took a breath and stared John down. “So aside from you turning out to be an alien or a vampire, I think we’re pretty well covered.”
How did she fit so many words into a single breath? John wondered. And she was dead serious about her offer. He honestly didn’t know what to say. Gretchen had already done so much for him. It felt too risky to accept. Neither of them knew who he was, what he was capable of. John was afraid to say yes, but he desperately wanted to.
The idea of being near her all the time, he needed and wanted that. It was more than the fact that she was the only person he knew. When she wasn't glaring at him, her soft smiles and gentle, caring nature drew him to her. Every time he touched her he felt himself pulled in her direction even more. She was beautiful and amazing, and she made John want to give in.
So he did.
What choice did he really have?
“Okay…but only if you’re sure.”
She tried to keep her stern expression, but it slipped into a nervous smile she tried to bolster with enthusiasm. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure,” she said.
She did look sure. John wanted to be sure, but the inkling of doubt that her offer would only lead to hurt stuck fast to the back of his mind.
Chapter Eleven
Writing Therapy
The rest of the afternoon passed amid soft food for lunch, memory exercises Dr. Sanchez recommended, and visits from various hospital staff. Gretchen bore all of it with John, laughing at his responses to the flashcards he was supposed to practice with and taking notes when the woman from Patient Services came up to offer advice. When Gretchen went down to get dinner from the cafeteria, she even left John with instructions to spend the time writing in the notebook.
John didn’t think he had anything to write in it, but he pulled it out to please her and stared at the blank page as she walked away. The empty lines reminded him too much of his empty past. If Gretchen wanted him to try, John would do it. Holding the pen poised above the paper, he focused on her instructions. “Write about whatever you want.” It sounded simple, but it wasn't. He stared at the page for several minutes before finally putting something down.
I had mashed potatoes for lunch today. They were pretty good. I had Jell-O too. It was lime flavored. I now know that I do NOT like lime flavored Jell-O.
Well, that was something. Eating different things at least helped him figure out what foods he did and didn’t like. Those were two things he knew about himself now. Maybe Gretchen’s writing therapy idea was worth doing.
Gretchen offered to let me stay at her house.
John stared at that sentence. Filling his entire notebook with his thoughts on just that one sentence would have been easy. He found he couldn’t force the swarm of conflicting emotions out of his mind and onto the paper no matter how hard he tried. There was too much, and most of it he was afraid to admit, even though it would only be to a blank piece of paper.
Gretchen’s happy footsteps saved him. Slapping the notebook closed, John dropped it onto the side table and watched her sweep into the room carrying two bags of food.
“Did you try the notebook?” she asked. John nodded. “Good. I think you’ll like it the more you do it. Do you mind if I ask you what you wrote about?”
Gretchen unloaded the bags, letting the aromas spill out. “I wrote about the Jell-O I had with my lunch.” Would she think that was juvenile? John watched her expression.
“What did you say about the Jell-O?” she asked, no hint of amusement at all.
“That I didn’t like it,” John said. “I did like the potatoes, though.”
Now Gretchen smiled, but not to tease. “See, you’re making progress already. I’ll be sure not to buy any lime Jell-O.” She set a Styrofoam bowl on the tray in front of him and removed the lid. “Here’s something new for you to try. It’s bacon and potato soup.”
“It smells great,” he said. It tasted even better. The variety of textures and tastes were surprising. The fruits and muffins had been very good, but somewhat ordinary tasting. The plain pot
atoes at lunch were bland and he had already covered the Jell-O being disgusting. John downed the soup hungrily and sopped up the last of it with a roll.
Gretchen cleared the dinner mess away and sat down to face him. “So, we’ll have tomorrow evening to get you settled in at my place when I get off work, but unfortunately I have to go to work the next day. Are you going to be okay by yourself? I could try to get a substitute Tuesday if you need me to stay home, or maybe have my friend Desi come over during her free periods to check on you while I’m gone. Lynn and Maria are both working, or they would come by.”
John knew she was thinking about his earlier panic attack over being alone. He wasn't sure it wouldn’t happen again, but he also refused to let her put her life on hold for him.
“I’ll be fine, Gretchen. Please don’t worry about me. I’ve already imposed on you enough,” John said.
She laughed at that. “Actually, sitting at the hospital all week made me focus on the stacks of papers I needed to grade instead of watching TV or reading.”
“What do you do for a living?” John asked.
“I teach science to a bunch of high schoolers who seem bound and determined to drive me crazy.” The smile seemed to go against her words. “I’m just kidding, they aren’t that bad. Most of them are pretty good kids. I just wish they actually cared about what I’m teaching them.”
“I’m sure some of them do,” he said.
Gretchen shrugged. “There probably are some, but it does get disappointing when you try to share something you love with someone and they just aren’t interested. I love studying science, physics especially, but my students just groan when I try to get them interested in how the world around them works.”
“I wonder what I used to do,” John said. “Did I love doing it like you love teaching science?”
“If you were any good at whatever it was, you probably did love it,” she said. “I don’t think you can really be successful at something unless you put your whole heart into it.”
“I wish I knew that passion. When I think about what my life must have been like, I can’t help of think of everything I’ve lost. It feels…incomplete,” John said.
Looking thoughtful, Gretchen folded her legs beneath her and sat cross-legged on the chair. “Most of that is still a part of you, John. The people and places might be different now, but you can find everything else right here. You’ll find passion for something again, and things that interest you and make you happy. And things that don’t make you happy, like the Jell-O,” she said with a smile. “But you’ll find all of that again, by opening yourself up to the world, or by remembering what you had in the first place.”
“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, pleadi
ng this time. She hesitated before facing him. His big blue 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.