THE HUSBAND SHE COULDN'T REMEMBER

by Maggie Shayne

"'Course they are," Elliot countered. "That's why they taste so good."

  "It's your turn tomorrow," Adam told his brother. "You can make home fries if you want to."

  "Good. Who's on grocery detail? I want ham, and some of those big Spanish onions."

  "I think that must be me," Ben said. Then he glanced down at his plate. "I'm afraid I've been a little slack keeping up with my share around here lately."

  "Don't worry about it. You have more important things to do," Garrett told him, with a smile at Penny.

  "I'll pick up those groceries today, all the same. Penny and I will be heading into town anyway this morning."

  Chelsea looked up, curious. "Oh?"

  "I'm seeing the doctor," Penny told her. The smiles around the table seemed to falter. "It's time, you know?"

  Chelsea nodded. "Then the last thing you're going to feel up to doing is grocery shopping."

  "No, I want to." Penny drew a breath and lifted her chin up. "I mean, what else am I going to do, head back up to my room and brood? Ben and I will get those groceries. I want to feel like … a part of things around here."

  Garrett sent Penny an admiring smile. Elliot reached past Ben to clasp Penny's hand for a moment. "You don't know it, sis, but you've been a part of things around here for as long as most of us can remember—even while you were gone." He grinned at her as he released her hand. "But I shoulda known you'd be back. Don't they say a bad Penny always returns?" Elliot winked and went back to eating.

  "No one told me I was bad," she said, her tone lighter.

  Ben was grateful for Elliot's constant levity for once. It eased the tension.

  "Yeah, well, you aren't asking the right people," Elliot went on. "Now, old Mr. Murphy would probably tell you just how bad you were. And he'd be likely to claim his rose bushes are still recovering from your shenanigans."

  Ben shook his head, remembering. "You really did make a mess of them."

  "Hey, she had probable cause," Garrett put in. "She was investigating a murder, after all."

  "Yeah," Adam said. "Only nobody was actually dead."

  "Well," Elliot put in, "nobody except those roses."

  Everyone laughed at that, but Ben's eyes were only on Penny, shaking her head in disbelief.

  "You mean I actually went back there and dug them up? Even after he scared me so bad when…" Everyone went silent, and turning her gaze inward, Penny said very slowly, "When … he caught me peeking in his windows…" She blinked, lifting her head, facing Ben.

  "You remember that?"

  Licking her lips, she nodded. "I … I kind of remembered it last night. But I wasn't sure if it was real…" She shook her head slowly. "It's like someone else's memory, playing out in my mind."

  Ben clasped her hand in his. "That's incredible. Honey, you remembered. It's going to come back to you, all of it. I know it is."

  Lowering her gaze, she whispered, "I hope so. Then maybe I'll know how I ended up leaving this place." Then, looking around the table at each of them in turn, she went on. "Because I can't imagine why anyone would ever want to."

  Adam cleared his throat, and Ben thought he was probably feeling a little homesick himself. He'd been living in New York, only home for short visits, and Penny's words might have touched a nerve with him. "I think we'll get the answers to that even before you get your memory back, Penny. I think Kirsten knows exactly what happened."

  Penny nodded. "I got that feeling, too. I'm going to talk to her soon."

  "Right," Ben said. "But first we see Doc. Speaking of which…" He tapped his wristwatch with a forefinger.

  Penny took a deep breath and set her jaw. But he could see the fear in her eyes. She was dreading this. "Time to go, huh?" she asked him. When he nodded, she popped the last bite of waffle into her mouth and pushed away from the table, attempting a brave smile that probably didn't fool anyone in the room.

  Having that huge breakfast with the family had made the time pass more quickly. And it was a good thing, Ben thought, because if Penny was anywhere near as nervous as he was, she'd make herself ill. He felt like he'd developed an ulcer himself. He talked to God inside his mind, as they sat in Doc's waiting room. At least don't let him tell us she only has a short while left, he thought. Let her have a few years, please. Just a few years. Is that so much to ask?

  He was afraid to even think about what he really wanted to hear. That the disease had miraculously vanished. That Penny was his, now and forever and…

  "Penny Brand?" the nurse called.

  Ben saw Penny's head come up. Her eyes were damp, her skin pale. Facing this, hearing it from a doctor instead of from him, God, it must be driving her mad.

  He closed his hand around hers, held on tight and got to his feet. She managed to do the same, and they walked together into the examining room, probably looking like a pair of convicts walking up to the gallows.

  He wanted to scoop her off her feet, turn around and run from this place. He wanted to take her where they'd never have to face anything like this again. Problem was, there was no such place.

  The nurse pointed Ben to a chair in the corner, and he sat down, fidgeting, while Penny was weighed and her blood pressure and temperature were taken. "Okay, good," the woman said, not looking at either of them as she scribbled on a chart. She dropped a paper gown on the exam table. "Undress and put that on. The doctor will be in soon." And then she left.

  Ben drew a breath, rubbed his arms. It was cold in here. It was always so cold in doctors' offices. "You're going to freeze in that paper gown," he said.

  "Yeah." But she started to undress, and Ben quickly got to his feet to help her. He took her clothes from her, folded them up. When she was in the paper gown, he lifted her up and set her on the exam table. "That nurse's bedside manner left something to be desired."

  Small talk. They were skating around the reason they were here as if it were a thin spot in the ice.

  "Made the nurses at the clinic look downright bubbly—and they were probably criminals."

  Ben tried to smile. He paced some, but thought that was probably making Penny more nervous. So he sat down again, and read the posters on the walls. One was about oral hygiene, and another showed a diagram of the inner ear.

  The door opened. Doc came in. His face like shoe leather, silver hair gleaming. The women loved him, and Ben always thought it was due to his Ricardo Montalban voice. His black eyes when they fell upon Penny … were stunned.

  "Penny," he said softly. And then he stepped inside the rest of the way and hugged her very gently. "Ben told me, but even then I could not quite believe…" Releasing her, backing away, he studied her face. And slowly a frown deepened between his salt-and-pepper brows. "But look at you!"

  He pulled her lower eyelid with his thumb, whipping a light from his pocket to stare into her eyes. "No discoloration…" Then he dropped the light, and poked underneath her chin. "The glands, they are not swollen." Then he stopped. Just stopped and stood there, staring at her. "Penny, what is going on here?"

  She licked her lips. "I don't know. I truly don't."

  "She's lost her memory, Doc," Ben said, getting up from his chair to stand beside the table and his wife. And he told Doc all he knew about what had happened to Penny, which wasn't much. And as he did, he realized that in all of his joy at having her back, and the renewed sorrow at knowing he would soon lose her again, he'd really let the whys and wherefores fall by the wayside. He'd put his questions on hold. But it would soon be time to go looking for the answers.

  A little ball of foreboding formed in his stomach. It was like he knew already that those answers were not going to be pleasant ones. Sensed it somehow. He'd almost rather not know.

  Doc was silent for a very long time. Then he pursed his lips, shook his head and opened the door to call for a nurse. While he awaited her, he returned to his poking and probing of Penny.

  "Yes, doctor," the nurse said when she arrived.

  "I want you to draw some blood. Two vials, yes? Take a drop or t
wo and prepare a slide for me." He looked at Penny, smiled encouragingly. "It won't hurt, I promise. Not much, anyway." Then eased her back until she was lying down on the table, while the nurse pulled a plastic case full of instruments from a cupboard.

  The deed was done in no time, and the nurse was on her way out with the vials while Penny sat with her elbow bent and a wad of cotton trapped there.

  Doc pulled up a tall stool and sat down, taking Penny's hand and looking her in the eyes. "Now we talk," he said slowly. "Penny … Penny, I delivered you. Did you know this?"

  "Yes. Ben … Ben told me." She glanced his way, and he put his arm around her.

  "So you know that you can trust me. I have nothing in common with this Dr. Barlow person you and Ben have been telling me about. I would not lie to you. Do you believe this?"

  She drew a breath, nodded. The nurse returned with the slide, slipping it into place beneath a microscope that rested on the counter. Doc patted Penny's hand, and went to it, leaned over it, peering through the lenses for what seemed like a very long time.

  When he straightened, he rubbed his eyes. And Ben wondered if it was from looking so hard for so long, or for some other reason.

  "It is good that you trust me, Penny. Otherwise you might not believe what I have to tell you. I'm not sure I believe it myself."

  Penny blinked, glanced at Ben, then focused on Doc again. "What is it?"

  Doc licked his lips. "You have no symptoms of Hillman-Waite Syndrome," Doc said. "None. Now, the blood tests will tell us for certain. And we will have those results tomorrow, I promise you. But chicacita, I have seen HWS cells in the blood before, and I do not see any in yours. These blood cells I've just examined, they appear to be perfectly normal."

  She just stared at him. Ben felt as if he couldn't breathe.

  "Beyond that," he said with a wave of his hand, "if the syndrome were still in your body—quite frankly, Penny, you would be dead by now."

  Ben blinked, almost afraid to believe what he was hearing. Penny seemed frozen in place.

  Doc looked from one of them to the other, pursing his lips at their silence. "The HWS gets progressively worse, Penny, the coma signaling the final stages. You were there. You were at the end, and now you are back." Doc shook his head. "I have never seen anything like this before."

  Penny tried to speak, but her voice was like dried straw.

  "Are you telling me I'm not sick anymore? That I'm not going to die?"

  Doc smiled so hard Ben thought his lips would split. "The blood tests will confirm it, Penny. But I think the results will show exactly what I expect. I am not a young man. I have been a doctor for a long time, and so, you see, I am good at this. I see no trace of HWS. No, Penny, you're not going to die."

  "Oh, my God," she whispered. She turned slowly to Ben, stunned and blinking and shaking her head.

  He closed his eyes tight and wrapped her up in his arms. He couldn't believe this. It was like a dream. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he'd wake up, and none of this would be true. Maybe…

  "I'm not going to die," Penny said, full volume now, and she leaped off the table, clinging to him. Ben spun her around in a circle, and let his wary heart accept this gift. And the grief seemed to chip away like plaster, until his heart was free and beating again.

  He held her, kissed her. "Thank you," he kept saying over and over. "God, thank you."

  Finally Doc cleared his throat loudly enough so that Ben was reminded of where he was. Gently he set Penny down on the table again, but he couldn't take his eyes from her face. Tears gleaming on her cheeks. Rosy cheeks. Rosy with the blush of health.

  "All right," Doc said. "Now we talk about this amnesia, yes?"

  Ben looked at Doc, but he stood close enough so he was touching Penny, one arm around her. Almost afraid to let go.

  "This Barlow, you say he told you your memory would not return, is this true?" Doc asked.

  "Yes. He said he was certain. There was no chance of me regaining my memory."

  Doc nodded. "But you know he was lying, don't you, Penny?"

  Penny blinked, said nothing.

  "He would have no way of knowing this if your amnesia was due to the coma. Coma patients sometimes recover their memory, sometimes … not so much. But only time tells us which will be the case. So … why would this Barlow tell you such a lie?"

  Penny studied Doc's face, and Ben could see her trying to decide how much to tell him about her suspicions of Dr. Barlow. But before she could speak, he went on. "My guess is you have remembered something already, have you not? A tiny flash in the mind? A dream too vivid to be just a dream? A feeling of recognition about something? Any of that?"

  "Yes," she said, nodding emphatically. "And the headaches … every time I remember something, my head just throbs."

  This made Doc pause. He tilted his head to one side, searching Penny's face. "Tell me, Penny, while at this hospice under this man's care, was he giving you any medication?"

  She nodded. "Pills to help me sleep, and a shot every day—"

  "And … did you ever wake up with a bitter taste in your mouth?"

  She frowned. "How did you…?"

  "Would this doctor—if he is a doctor—have had any reason to hope your memory would not return?"

  Penny glanced at Ben. Ben nodded at her.

  "Maybe," she said. "Why?"

  Doc shrugged and made a note on the chart. "Could be nothing. But I will have one more test run for you. I think we got enough blood for both."

  "Do you think there's a chance she might remember after all?" Ben asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  "Your Penny, she has beaten a fatal disease by all appearances," Doc said, smiling. "And that she is already remembering, this is a good sign. I would say where this wife of yours is concerned, anything is possible." He turned to Penny. "Now, you can get dressed. I'm going to write you a prescription, Penny—a very mild drug for these headaches. But you take it only when the head is aching, okay?"

  Penny nodded. "Okay."

  "Good." Doc grinned as he finished scribbling, tore the illegibly written sheet from his prescription pad and handed it to her. Then he leaned close. "We share an interest, you and I."

  "Do we?"

  Doc nodded, grinning. "Si. We both like solving puzzles. I'm going to help you solve this one, I promise you that." He squeezed her hand, then turned and left them alone again.

  Ben looked at Penny for a long time. "Come here," he said softly, and then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her like he hadn't kissed her in years, without a single hint of sorrow detracting from the passion.

  Penny didn't know when Ben had slipped away to call his family with the news, but he'd managed it. Maybe sometime during their stop at the grocery store in town or at Mr. Henry's drugstore while they waited for her prescription to be filled. At any rate she'd been looking forward to sharing her good news with the rest of the Brands.

  It was an odd feeling, this knowing that her own happiness meant so much to other people. People who'd been strangers to her only days ago, but who were slowly somehow becoming her family. She had no doubt they'd all be overjoyed for her. And the fact that she'd initially suspected any one of them of being involved in her disappearance seemed ludicrous now.

  When she walked through the front door that afternoon, a sudden chorus of shouts had taken her by surprise. She looked around, blinking. The entire living room was filled with people. Streamers and confetti littered the place, and music bawled from unseen speakers, and Ollie barked a greeting as if joining in the happy celebration.

  Chelsea grabbed Penny and hugged her hard. "You weren't here for your birthday, Penny. But this is even better, don't you think?"

  "My birthday…" Penny blinked and turned to Ben. "God, I don't even know when I was born."

  Ben smiled. "Thirty years ago last Sunday, hon. Same day as Nancy Drew." He smiled at her, and she felt warm inside. "We'll call today your rebirth day. The day you got a new lease on life."

>   "And a chance to start over," she whispered.

  Ben nodded, and ushered her into the midst of her re-birthday party. Chelsea walked close to her other side, and urged her toward a table full of gaily wrapped presents. Penny blinked tears from her eyes. "All this … for me?"

  "Who else?" Chelsea asked, smiling. "Here, open mine first!" And she pressed a small box into Penny's hand. "And hurry up, I want to show you the cake. It's gorgeous!"

  Penny couldn't speak for the lump in her throat. But she leaned forward and gently kissed Chelsea's cheek, and hoped that one gesture could somehow convey the depth of what she was feeling right now.

  Ben thought he probably had the best family in the world. They made Penny feel she belonged—and she did, though she didn't remember how much a part of his family she had been. But he could see her relaxing, enjoying the celebration. He thought he was happier right now than he'd ever been in his life.

  And then he saw Penny's eyes cloud over, and he followed her gaze. Kirsten stood in a corner, talking to Adam. It troubled Ben to see her here, set off that sense of foreboding in his gut—the one he'd been deliberately ignoring up to now. He hated that Penny didn't seem glad to see her onetime best friend. God, they'd been so close. And he'd been close to Kirsten, as well, as close as he was to his own sister. They'd been a foursome, he and Penny, Adam and Kirsten. If only Penny had her memories, she'd understand about this intimacy she seemed to sense between Kirsten and him. He'd picked up on that the last time he'd brought Kirsten's name up. It bothered him. Maybe in time…

  He knew all too well there was another reason for that twist in his belly upon seeing Kirsten here. And likely another reason for the look on Penny's face when she glimpsed her. Kirsten had the answers. She knew how and why Penny had ended up in that clinic, and why he'd ended up grieving over the grave of a stranger. And he told himself he wanted those answers, and that Penny needed them. But that didn't alter the queasiness in his stomach when he thought about actually getting them.

  He was curious now, though, to see Adam apparently having a civil conversation with the woman he claimed to hate. Penny was distracted for the moment. Jessi had drawn her into the dining room to show her that huge, beautiful sheet cake she'd had made for the occasion. So he sidled closer to where Adam and Kirsten stood, off by themselves.