The Baby Plan

Home > Other > The Baby Plan > Page 76
The Baby Plan Page 76

by Tia Siren


  "Go on," I urged.

  "Well, some of the other doctors think it might be a good idea if I take you to the ICU, so you can see the man that you were in the car crash with. They seem to think that seeing him might jog your memory. I want you to know that I'm against the idea. He's still banged up, and seeing him might be difficult."

  "I'll do it," I cut in. "I want to see him." And I did, too.

  I had no idea who he was or what my relation to him was, but I hoped that the doctors’ theories might be correct, and seeing him might do something to my memory. I was desperate to try anything at this stage.

  We left Liana behind in my hospital room. She tried to insist that she come along, but Liam was adamant that she stay behind. He claimed that the ICU wasn't a zoo for people to just take a walk around in.

  "Now, I want you to keep in mind that this isn't exactly a very nice place to be," he warned as we approached the ICU. "Some of the people in there are in pretty bad shape. It’s best to just focus on the guy you came in here with. Although, he’s not looking great, either.”

  "It's fine," I assured him. "I can handle it."

  Whether he believed me or not, he still saw fit to take my hand as we entered the room. As he did, a pulse shot through my arm, and my knees momentarily weakened before I regained control of myself. His hand was warm and comforting, and there was just something right about holding it.

  If he noticed anything, he didn't give any indication as he led me through the ICU. True to his word, it wasn't the nicest place to go for a walk. Every single person in there was hooked up to machines of all kinds. The mood in the place was somber.

  "Here we are," he finally said as we reached the end of the room.

  I hadn't even been paying attention. I’d been so preoccupied with the other patients in the room. When I saw the man that we had stopped next to, I let out a soft gasp.

  His arms and legs were wrapped in fiberglass casts, and they were propped up on pillows. Most of the rest of him was wrapped in bandages, but the bits of skin that I could see were bruised dark purple. Half of his face was visible, although it looked a little swollen.

  I didn’t recognize him. Not even a little. I didn’t know if it was just the amnesia or if it was his wrecked state. Either way, the sight of him triggered nothing in my blank slate of a brain. He might as well be a total stranger to me.

  "Anything?" Liam asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. Sorry.”

  "I would have been surprised. I'm sure he's seen better days." He sounded bitter when he said it, and I wondered why. It was almost like he hated the guy.

  "Is there any indication to how I might have known him?" I asked. My voice was a whisper as if I were worried that I might wake him up.

  Liam shook his head to this question. "Nothing. But does it matter? He had more vodka in his blood than a Russian soldier and enough cocaine to cripple a pony. The fact that he was driving anyone around in that state means you're probably better off not remembering him."

  I looked up at Liam who was still shaking his head. I could tell that he was actually mad, almost furious, at the very idea that this man was driving drunk and high at the wheel with me beside him. I felt an amazing rush of gratitude toward Liam in that moment. I couldn't believe that a relative stranger, as he was, cared so much for me.

  I don't know why I did it. Looking back on it, it may have been a little forward. But as we both stood there, looking down at the man that almost killed me, I reached across and took Liam's hand in mine again. He didn't seem put off by the action or even surprised. Instead, he gave my hand a squeeze.

  In that moment, I didn't even mind that I had no memory. I felt safe in a way I hadn't since I had woken up.

  CHAPTER 5

  LIAM

  So far, everything had been going exactly as planned.

  My first fear was that I might actually know Liana. I knew most of Kate's old friends and feared that her emergency contact would be someone that I had crossed paths with before. But, to my relief, they had only been friends a short while. I had dodged that bullet.

  My second fear was that seeing the man who she was in the car crash with might jog her memory. The idea for her to see him wasn't mine, by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I had argued against it. But I knew my resistance wasn’t based on my medical opinion. It was based on my personal opinions.

  Once I realized that I dropped my arguments against the plan. As much as I wanted to get Kate back, I wasn’t going to jeopardize her recovery for my own personal agenda. Not telling her that we used to date was a little white lie, easily justifiable in my mind. Actively sabotaging her medical treatment was a line I refused to cross.

  But I was still nervous when I took her to see the guy in ICU. I had to hold my breath as I watched her study the broken man who had nearly killed her. But again, another bullet was firmly dodged as she failed to remember anything about him.

  But it wasn't these two factors that made my plan seem like such a sure thing. It was the way that Kate was warming up to me that made me positively tingle with excitement. Every time I went into her room to check on her, I could distinctly see those big green eyes light up.

  I knew her pretty well. The way that her voice rose when she spoke to me and the way that she subconsciously fidgeted with her hands when she answered my questions, spoke volumes to me. I knew that I was getting to her.

  And then she took my hand. I had never concentrated so hard on trying to appear normal than when her hand wrapped itself in mine in the ICU. I hadn't seen it coming at all. How could I have? One second, I was looking with disdain at the man who had nearly killed her, and the next, she was wrapping her warm little hand in mine. It made my damn knees shake.

  It was because of all these factors that I felt confident enough to enact the next phase of my plan. It was the most important, but if done properly, it would all but ensure that my plan to make Kate fall in love with me again was a sure thing.

  As I arrived at the room that Kate was occupying, I was about to knock and announce my presence, but I paused at the last minute. When my eyes fell on her, I had to take that moment for what it was and not disturb it for as long as possible.

  Lying in her bed and staring out the window, Kate looked absolutely beautiful. I mean, she always did, but somehow, right then and there, she looked even more so. It was night time, so the only light in the room came from the parking garage. It seemed to bathe her in its glow, making her appear almost angelic.

  Her brown hair flowed down to her chest, which still managed to look ample despite the gown she had to wear. And her eyes were so sad. She wasn't crying, but I could see that she was on the verge. But it was an enchanting kind of sadness, somehow making her look even more beautiful.

  "Knock, knock," I finally brought myself to say as I walked into the room.

  "Oh, hey," she said quickly, wiping at her eyes as she did all that she could to hide the fact that she had been on the verge of tears.

  "My shift is just about up, and I thought I'd come and check on you before going home. See how you are doing."

  "That's so nice of you," she said, smiling as I sat down by her bed. "Seriously, you are the only one here that treats me like I'm actually human. Everyone else makes me feel like I'm E.T. or something."

  "Oh, don't take that personally," I joked. "Most of the men here don't spend much time around awake patients. Especially beautiful women. You've just caught them off guard is all."

  For a moment, I thought I had gone too far with the beautiful woman comment. That was until she snorted and slapped me on the arm. "Stop it. Seriously."

  "Anyway, I came by just to see if anything else has come back to you. I know that we did this earlier, but it has to be done at least twice a day, and I'd rather it be me than anyone else."

  "Oh, me too," she beamed. The moment that she did though, she must have realized how over excited she looked, as she instantly pulled herself back. "I mean, yeah, I definitely prefer
you to do it over some of the others.

  I had to work very hard to hide my smile after that reaction. I was getting to her. It was so clear. That chemistry that had always existed between us couldn't be forgotten, regardless of her amnesia or how much time had passed between the two of us.

  "Okay,” I said. “So how about it? Anything new?"

  "No," she said, letting out a sigh. "Like I told you earlier, I remember small things. I can tell you what my favorite food is."

  "Spaghetti and meatballs! Is my favorite meal, I mean. Sorry." I hung my head in an exaggerated fashion while also making sure to pout for her benefit.

  "That's okay,” she said with a smile. “Mine is anything Mexican. And my favorite movie is The Princess Bride, but I couldn't tell you the last time I watched it. I know what my favorite color is and even my favorite song. But again, I don't know when I last listened to it. It's so frustrating!"

  "Don't worry," I said gently, "It will come back."

  "But when?!"

  "That, I can't answer." My answer frustrated her further, a fact that I couldn't really blame her for. On instinct, I reached out and took her hand in mine. To my relief, she didn't flinch. "But listen, I am going to be here the whole time helping you, okay? Until you get your memory back, if you need anything, anything at all, you just let me know."

  She didn't respond. Instead, she smiled and gave my hand another squeeze. It was because of that positive reaction that I decided it was time to put the second part of my plan into action. It was then or never.

  "I've been thinking. You get out of here tomorrow, and you're probably not.” I paused. “I imagine that you aren't too thrilled with the idea of entering a world that you kind of know nothing about. You have Liana, but that's about it really, at least until your memory comes back. But I want you to know that you don't just have Liana. You have me, also."

  "Okay," she said.

  "And, well, rather than having to come in here to do these memory tests, I was wondering if you would rather meet up outside of the hospital? We can get a drink or some food or whatever. I don't want you to think of it as a date. But more like, well, I don't really know what to call it. But hopefully, you see what I mean?"

  I was very aware of how much I was sweating in that moment. I could feel it pouring off me. And as it did, I could also feel her eyes boring into me. I basically stared at my feet the entire time, too nervous to look at her. It was silly really, as I was certain that she was going to say yes, but even still, I was scared. It was like I was asking out my high school crush, and just like that moment, she had the ability to crush me if she chose to.

  "Sure," she said, after what felt like minutes. "I'd like that."

  I finally worked up the courage to look at her and was relieved to see that she was smiling at me. I hadn't even noticed, but I still held her hand in mine, and in that moment, she was stroking it with her thumb.

  "That's great," I beamed, trying my hardest to not sound as ecstatic as I was feeling. "How about this? I have your home number, courtesy of Liana. I'll call you when you're settled in, and we can organize something?

  "Yeah, that sounds great," she said, smiling equally as hard as I was.

  After that, I made sure to get out of that room as quickly as possible. I had done what I needed to do, so there was no point in hanging around. Or I would run the risk of ruining the entire thing.

  The plan was indeed perfect, and I knew Kate inside and out. I knew her likes, dislikes, and what she saw as a perfect date. And although I had specified that this wasn't to be a date, I think we both knew that it was.

  What really got me excited, though, was her reaction to it. She seemed equally as keen as I was, and it only served to confirm what I was sure to be true, that she liked me. Now all I had to do was drive that point home and make her fall in love with me like she once was.

  I had no idea how long her amnesia was going to last. For all I knew, she might wake up the next day and remember everything. As such, I knew that I had no time to waste. I was going to plan the perfect first date. It was going to be magical, resplendent, and everything that a first date should be. By the time it was done, she was going to be head over heels in love with me, and finally, I would have Kate back.

  That was the plan anyway.

  CHAPTER 6

  KATE

  "Well, this is it,” Liana cooed as she opened the front door and led me inside. “Home sweet home."

  I had been worried all morning about finally going home. As I had no memory, the hospital had become my home over the last few days. As sad as it may seem, that bed was the only one that I had ever known. The walls were the only ones that I was used to waking up and seeing. Heck, even the terrible breakfast and lunch they fed me had begun to taste like a home cooked dinner.

  I had no recollection at all of my actual house, and my biggest fear was how strange it was going to feel when I did finally set foot in it. I knew it wasn't going to feel like my house, and I knew I wouldn't feel comfortable there. It was terrifying.

  "So, what do you think?" Liana asked as I stepped around her, into what she claimed to be my apartment. My home.

  As much as I’d been afraid that my apartment wouldn't feel like a home, I was also worried about what kind of home I lived in. Liana had already filled me in on what it was that I did for a living. As low as that was, I couldn't even imagine what kind of place I would be able to afford on such wages.

  Although I was a writer, or dreamed of being one, in order to pay the bills, I had gotten a job waitressing at a strip club. I didn’t have to take off my clothes or dance, at least that was how Liana told it anyway. But I did have to dress in skimpy outfits. Liana was a stripper at the club. She’d hooked me up with the job as a favor, apparently, although it didn’t exactly feel like a favor now. Once I got my life back on track, I would look for another job that didn’t require me to work in little more than lingerie.

  I struggled to find the words as I looked over the hovel that I called home. "It's quaint."

  The place was a dump. And that was being kind. It was a studio apartment, which meant that I could see the bathroom, living room, kitchen, and bedroom all from the convenience of the front door.

  And if it was just that, then maybe I would have been okay with it. But it was also so damn run down. The paint peeled off the walls, rusty water stains marked the ceiling, and the carpet in the bedroom frayed along the edges. And I wasn't even going to get into the smell.

  "You're a struggling writer, what do you expect?" Liana said dismissively as she closed the door behind the two of us. "I'm a goddamn actress who hasn't worked in months. What do you think my place looks like?"

  It was a humbling experience, finding out just how low my life had sunk. I had no memory of it, and yet, I couldn't believe that this was what I had made of myself. If there was one positive to be taken from my accident, it was my new-found sense of drive and purpose. This may have been me, but it wasn't going to be for much longer.

  "I don't know what your place looks like,” I said as I walked around my apartment. “For some reason, I imagine that you have a lot of fuzzy pillows and decorative shit on the walls?"

  One thing that stood out above anything else was the lack of wall hangings, pictures, or any sign that a person actually lived there. It looked almost like a squatter’s apartment, one I had rented with the express purpose of leaving as soon as I was able.

  "Hey, maybe your memory is starting to come back?" Liana beamed as she made her way into the kitchen. "Now, how about we have a drink and—"

  "Actually, I was wondering if I could be left alone?" I asked, doing my best not to sound rude. "It's just that it's my first night, and I don't know, I guess I wouldn't mind a little time to myself? To settle in."

  "Say no more," Liana replied, not looking in the least bit put out by my request. "I totally get you." She made her way to the front door, sashaying her way across the room as she walked. "My number is on the fridge and on your phone
if you need anything. Anything at all. Okay?"

  "Sure thing." I gave her a grateful smile as she waved goodbye and closed the door behind her.

  And then I was alone.

  I spent the next few minutes walking silently around the apartment, taking everything in, trying to see if there was anything that would jog my memory. It was a very small apartment, and I had very few possessions, so that didn't take too long. Looking over my clothes, through my books, and rifling through my cupboards yielded nothing of interest.

  It wasn't until I found my laptop that a sudden wave of excitement washed over me. Surely, I would find something on my laptop? A written piece? A journal entry? Anything that might help me better understand who I was.

  Opening it up, I immediately spotted a folder titled “Writing." My heart beat faster as I clicked it open. Inside the folder were a dozen more folders, each labeled with titles I didn't recognize and that meant nothing to me. Some were of people's names. Others were clearly titles of stories that I had written.

  I opened one called "A Tale of Two Lovers," and began to read. It was a romance spy thriller about a young woman, a school teacher, on holiday in Prague. While on holiday, she became embroiled, by accident, in a deadly game of international espionage. It would have seen the end of her, too, were it not for the handsome gentleman spy who soon came to her rescue. As he helped her escape, the two became romantically engaged, eventually falling in love.

  I read the story from start to finish. It was enjoyable and decently written, but it didn't ring any bells. It may as well have been written by a stranger. The only detail I could glean from the story was that I was clearly a half-decent writer, most likely in search of the right story. One that would help me break out of this hell hole.

  Closing my laptop, I moved to the drawers of my bedside table, realizing that I had yet to rifle through those. It was in them that I came across my journals for the first time. As with my laptop, my heart began to race. Surely, I would find something in these.

 

‹ Prev