Driving home, she was so exhausted she barely remembered the drive and ended up sitting parked in her driveway for who knew how long until Carl appeared next to her car to make sure she was all right. His knock on her window send her heart rate sky high, but it was the anxiety etched into his features that held her back.
Impatience prompted Carl to open her door for her, then cross his arms over his chest expectantly. “How’s Coma Guy?”
Gretchen really hated his nickname for John, but the edge to his tone sent a shot of guilt straight through her. They hadn’t had plans to hang out Friday night, but she was positive Carl knew she hadn’t come home. She also hadn’t sent him a text to explain her absence. After the trip home from Albuquerque, and his panic that she’d been in an accident and died, he’d been extra vigilant in looking out for her.
“He’s, uh, not in a coma anymore,” she said, hoping the good news would soften his frustration with her.
Carl’s eyebrows rose. “He woke up?”
Not sure of his feelings on the matter, aside from his obvious surprise, Gretchen kept her answer basic. “Yep. Last night.”
Relief eased his posture. “It’s about damn time. Now you can finally stop babysitting him, right? I’m sure they called his family to come pick him up or whatever.”
Slowly getting out of her car, Gretchen avoided Carl’s gaze as she gripped the strap of her purse and shut the door. She knew exactly how he’d react to news of John’s condition. Debating telling him the truth, she grimaced when his patience ran out.
“What’s going on, Gretchen? He’s awake. That should be the end of it,” he said, “but clearly it’s not.”
Gretchen felt her exhaustion clear down to her toes. “He can’t remember anything.”
“What?” he asked. “Who cares? So he doesn’t know what happened to him or who did it. That’s for the police to sort out. Not you. Leave it alone, okay? You’ve already gotten more involved than you should have. This has drugs or gangs written all over it.”
Too tired to argue with him and stand under her own power at the same time, Gretchen leaned against her car for support. She rubbed at her eyes before finding the energy to explain. “He can’t remember anything. Nothing. Not a single thing. Whoever attacked him is the least of his problems right now.”
It was too early in the year for crickets, so the lack of their chirping left the two of them in absolute silence. Carl dragged his hands down his face before saying, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Amnesia?”
Gretchen shrugged, a weak answer, but all she could muster when she sensed his frustration building.
It was several long seconds later before he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Still not your problem.”
“How can you say that?” Gretchen demanded. “Who else has he got to look out for him?”
Carl didn’t have an immediate answer, but that didn’t stop his brows from pinching together in irritation. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t have to be you. You don’t have to let one chance encounter derail your entire life.”
Shaking her head, she brushed past him and made for the front door of her house. He caught up to her before she could get her keys in the lock. His hulking presence behind her was both calming and irritating. Even though Gretchen appreciated how much he cared, he had no right to criticize her decisions. Not that she had even come to one yet.
“Nobody has any idea what might happen with John,” she said without looking at Carl, “least of all me.”
Sighing, she felt him move closer, his body heat attempting to reassure her. “Maybe not, but I know you too well to believe you’ll walk away without knowing this guy is all right.”
Irritation flushed through her. “You’ve known me for all of seven months,” Gretchen snapped. She jabbed her keys into the lock, but Carl’s hand immediately covered hers, halting her escape.
“Seven months of spending most evenings together. Seven months of being by your side as you’ve worked through whatever baggage drove you from Colorado. Seven months of being there for you when you were alone and didn’t know another soul. Seven months of being your friend,” he said, his voice soft yet edged with anger that she would deny his knowledge of her. “Tell me you won’t go back, that he’s someone else’s problem now. Tell me that and I’ll drop the issue.”
Her silence was more than enough of an answer.
“This is a mistake,” Carl said, almost a whisper.
Gretchen’s chin was trembling, because she was on the verge of agreeing with him, but John’s frightened eyes called to her. She knew she couldn’t abandon him to whoever might be willing to offer him charity. Maybe it was chance. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it was exactly what she needed.
“I’m too tired to argue about this with you,” Gretchen said.
It was testament to the fact that Carl did know her well enough to sense that if he pressed the issue it would be their last discussion for some time, and he wisely chose to back off.
“Let’s not argue then,” he said. There was a certain level of defeat in his voice, but weariness and worry outweighed it. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
Gretchen hesitated a moment before shaking her head. She expected him to pull her away from her door, toward his, but he surprised her by turning the doorknob and pushing the door open.
She’d been too wrapped up in her own thoughts to have noticed where Carl had come from before appearing next to her car. Aromas wafted from the kitchen, making her mouth water, and instantly heaping on the guilt as she realized he’d used the key she’d given him for emergencies to let himself in and make her dinner. Even with as worried as she was about John being left alone all night, stress melted from her body as she basked in the delicious smells of posole.
Following the scent of her favorite dish since moving to New Mexico, Gretchen paid little attention to Carl as he locked her front door. She was ladling stew into two bowls before he made it to the kitchen and leaned against the door jamb, watching her without speaking.
Carl had been her lifeline since arriving. Only one state away from where she’d grown up, it had been a much more difficult transition than she’d expected. Part of that was due to starting her first full-time, grownup job, having no family nearby for help, and running from more than she wanted to discuss. Her life had gone from sobbing on her parents couch to being expected to function in a professional setting with high school students who would rather sleep through class than give her the time of day.
Overwhelmed was not a strong enough word to describe her first month on her own. Without Carl, she might have given up or, at the very least, had a serious nervous breakdown. Gretchen didn’t want his advice when it came to John, but it was hard to argue he didn’t have the right to offer one.
“Thanks,” Carl said as he took one of the bowls from the counter.
“You’re the one who made it,” Gretchen said with a weak laugh. “Thank you.”
He shrugged and carried the bowl to the table. Little was said when she joined him and they both ate. No one would call Carl extravagant. In many ways, he was uncomplicated and enjoyed the simple aspects of life. Cooking was a means to an end for him. Yet, he never failed to please, and took pride in what he served. He was the kind of man who never gave half-effort. He put his all into what he did and wasn’t satisfied until the job was done well.
Sometimes Gretchen wondered if that was how he viewed her. A project he needed to complete. Fix the poor, sad girl, build her up until she could survive on her own, and then release her back into the wild. Was she just another task to him? The first day he helped her unpack her moving truck was the beginning, and he’d never let up since. At times his unfailing presence in her life was the only thing that kept her going. At others, she was terrified to think he might one day consider his duty done and walk away.
Spooning the last of the stew into his mouth, Carl licked the spoon before dropping it back into the bowl and meeting her gaze. “If I promise not to br
ing up Coma Guy, will you watch a movie with me? I noticed you had a few new ones on your DVR.”
“You were going through my DVR?”
“I got bored waiting for you,” he said with a shrug. “You know I made the posole at my place, so I didn’t really have anything to do while I waited.”
Gretchen didn’t doubt that for a minute. Her kitchen was rarely used for more than toast and microwaving leftovers. The ingredients for posole would have been nonexistent in her kitchen. Shaking her head, she pushed her bowl away and eyed him. “Which movie?”
“The courtroom one looked good.” He pinned her with a look that said he’d go if she wanted, but that wasn’t what he wanted.
Telling him no was never easy. Sending him packing when she was emotionally spent and on the verge of tears every time she thought about what might happen to John, there was no way she could push him out the door, even if that was probably the best option. After having spent the last week completely focused on her nameless friend, Gretchen needed just one night to think about herself, to indulge in the warmth of a friend who might have been biased, but definitely had her best interests at heart.
Heat spread through her body when she met Carl’s gaze and saw the worry and compassion in his eyes. He didn’t agree with her continued involvement with John, but it didn’t stop him from being there for her. “Courtroom drama it is then,” she said with a smile that was almost entirely genuine.
He didn’t question her willingness to let him stay. After clearing both their bowls from the table, he grabbed her hand and tugged her up to standing. She didn’t have the heart to pull away from him when he didn’t let go of her hand. By the time they made it to the couch, the posole, and the fact that he had made it for her, eased away her usual distance from him. He took advantage and pulled her close, but Gretchen found she didn’t mind so much that night.
“If I fall asleep, I’m sorry,” she warned him as he started the show. “It’s been a long week.”
Carl smirked. “You always fall asleep during movies. I’d be amazed if you didn’t.”
Grimacing, Gretchen considered her plans to be back at the hospital as soon as visiting hours resumed. “But…if I do…”
Misunderstanding her worry, Carl rested his chin on the top of her head. “I’ll watch over you if you do,” he said quietly.
Tears threatened to break her calm. Relief that he wouldn’t leave her alone to face the uncertainty she was facing combatted with guilt she felt over her desire to be back at John’s side. Ideas, thoughts, plans…were forming in her mind every time John entered her thoughts. What she was considering felt like a betrayal to Carl, but doing nothing felt as though she were abandoning John. Turmoil raged under her skin, the skin Carl’s fingers were trailing absently over.
Helping John could very well mean the end of her friendship with Carl. Walking out on John might be the end of something else. Indecision plagued her. Carl meant everything to her, but a gut-deep feeling said she couldn’t take the easy way, the safe route. She had done that once before and barely survived. But…if she couldn’t handle the easy way, what hope did she have of not breaking to pieces when the more difficult path proved too much to bear?
Chapter Nine
Bone Structure
Carl had kept his word and not left her side, even when she fell asleep halfway through the movie. Massive guilt bore down on her when she brushed off his invitation to go to breakfast and instead spent the morning cleaning and rearranging. She kept checking the time, judging how much she still had to do against when visiting hours opened at the hospital. Time was running short while the boxes seemed to multiply.
As Gretchen pushed long-ignored boxes and books out of the way, she told herself Dr. Sanchez’s supposition the day before that she would be around to help John during his recovery was closer to the truth than Lynn’s teasing that Gretchen was just as interested in dating John as she was helping him. Her friendship with Carl argued that her interest in John was purely altruistic. Yet, every time she looked down at her right hand she felt John’s hand on hers again. He was saying thank you, that was all, but that touch hinted at more than just a desire to see him well.
She found excuses to touch him again that day. There were so few places she could even manage such a thing without hurting him, but she’d found herself searching for those few uninjured spots as she sat next to him. All the time spent talking with Dr. Sanchez, her hands were itching to take his in hers. When he fell asleep it was even harder for her not to reach out to him. Dr. Sanchez’s seemingly casual comment about how physical contact was good for patients recovering from a traumatic experience made Gretchen blush furiously and fold her arms across her chest. The doctor had smiled sweetly and kept talking about how Gretchen would need to be patient with John while he struggled with the emotional trials of losing his memories.
Those were the things she should be focusing on, how difficult it would be for John to adjust to life when he left the hospital. His joke about not having any job skills was unfortunately much too true. What was he going to do? Although, that would only come after recovering from his broken bones and struggling through the total lack of identity he would soon face. Gretchen reprimanded herself for considering anything more than that. She needed to get her emotions under control if she had any chance of helping him.
Shoving a box into the closet, Gretchen chided herself for not having the many boxes unpacked already. Her house still looked like it was in the first stages of moving in some places. She had been busy, yes, but that was a poor excuse…one she was paying for now. It would take a couple more days to really get the room cleaned out, especially the closet she was currently piling everything into. That made her want to groan out loud. Why didn’t I do this months ago?
Gretchen stacked a couple of unhung picture frames on top of the box and stared at the first picture. The faces of her college friends stared up at her, her supposed friends anyway. She missed them, but the way they had all treated her in the end blocked out any of the good times they’d had together. Seeing the photo again brought all those unpleasant memories back. The pain of remembrance doubled when she saw Steve’s face. His easy grin and arms wrapped around her waist was the main reason the picture was still sitting in the spare room. Turning the frame upside down, she put it at the bottom of the stack. Those were memories she would love to lose.
At least her interest in John wasn’t based on physical appearance as it had been with Steve. Gretchen took comfort in John’s kindhearted personality, but his swollen face looked like someone had spilled a palette of watercolors on him. It was impossible to tell what he would look like when healed. Smoothing out the blankets on the bed, Gretchen smiled to herself, glad she couldn’t say whether John was attractive or not. Appearance had nothing to do with why she was so anxious to get back to the hospital. Even Carl couldn’t argue with that.
The room didn’t look great. There were still more boxes than furnishings, but it would do for the time being. Grabbing her backpack, Gretchen hurried out the door.
***
Gretchen rushed out of the elevator and headed for John’s room. He’d handled things pretty well the day before, but she wasn't sure how he would be doing on his own. She didn’t intend to stop at the nurse’s station, but Lynn jumped out from behind the desk and grabbed her arm as she passed.
“Hey, Gretch, wait a minute. I wanted to talk to you about something real quick,” Lynn said. Maria stepped up behind her and the other nurses were obviously listening in as they worked.
Gretchen glanced down the hall to John’s door. Anxiety and guilt had her itching to get back to him. “Can this wait?” she asked. “I’m worried about him being on his own for so long.”
“Ann just checked on him a minute ago. He’s asleep,” Lynn said. “And no, this can’t wait.”
Gretchen pulled her backpack onto her shoulder a little tighter, and said, “Okay, what is it?”
“On Dr. Sanchez’s recommendation, Dr.
Marshall just signed John’s release order. He’s going to be released tomorrow afternoon after the physical therapist talks to him.”
“Tomorrow? That’s so soon.” Gretchen thought she would have a little more time.
“You know Dr. Marshall. He likes to get patients out of here as quickly as possible so he doesn’t have to deal with them anymore,” Maria said.
“But medically, they’re right,” Lynn said. “His wounds are healing fine. There’s nothing else we can do for him here. He just needs time to heal. So he goes home tomorrow.”
“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” Maria said.
Gretchen nodded. None of the nurses were quite as attached to John as she was, but they were all fond of him and worried about his future. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too,” Gretchen said. She wasn’t expecting to have to bring this up quite so soon, but maybe testing out her idea on Lynn and Maria would help her prepare to make the real offer to John. And tell Carl.
“Would you guys think I was nuts if I offered to let John stay in my spare room? Just until he’s ready to take care of himself, of course,” Gretchen said quickly.
Maria and Lynn grinned. “I told she was already planning on taking him home,” Lynn said to Maria.
“Thank goodness,” Maria said, “because I don’t think my husband would have appreciated me offering up the guest bedroom.”
“My son would have loved a roommate, but I think John might be a little old for bunk beds. I knew the moment I met Gretchen that she’d be dying to take that poor boy home,” Lynn said. Her pleased cackled instantly annoyed Gretchen.
“What do you mean by that?” she asked, pulling her bag even tighter.
Maria laughed wholeheartedly. “You should see the way you look at him, honey. I’ve never seen anybody so happy to be visiting the hospital.”
“I…that’s not why I’m offering to take him in,” Gretchen spluttered. “I’m worried about him. He doesn’t have anybody else!”
Memory's Edge: Part One Page 5