The aide with the wheelchair showed up as she tied the robe in front of her, and Dr. Cavanaugh grinned. “See, what did I tell you? I’ll take it from here, Eric. Can you let Valerie know I’m taking my break?”
“Sure, Dr. Cavanaugh.”
His break? He was using his break time to take her out? What would Valerie think of that? Had he ever spent his break time with her? Tia blinked the thoughts away. She needed to focus less on Dr. Cavanaugh and more on her recovery.
He wheeled the chair as close to the bed as possible and then helped her stand. Again, she had to take a moment and clutch onto his shoulder before she could lower herself into the chair. Then he grabbed her IV pole and brought it around to her. “Can you hang onto this?”
She grabbed the pole and pulled it beside her as he wheeled her out of the room. Her eyes glanced around for Valerie and she was glad not to see her in the immediate vicinity, but she was surprised to see the security guard outside her room. He stood as they passed.
“Excuse me, sir, but where are you going?”
“I’m taking Ms. Sweetchild out for some air. Don’t worry, I’ve already cleared it with Detective Graves. You can call him and check for yourself.”
The security guard looked as if he were about to argue, but after a moment of exchanging stares with Dr. Cavanaugh, he nodded and then took out his phone.
* * *
Brody didn’t know what he was doing taking her out in the middle of the day. It wasn’t technically against policy, but it certainly wasn’t necessary. Yes, he wanted to share what he had learned last night from Jordan and see if it helped jog her memory at all, but he could have done that in her room. Maybe it was his complex kicking in again. Maybe it was the note she had received. Maybe it was her reaction to Valerie. Maybe it was just the fact that for the first time since Rachel’s death, he felt something for a woman. He wasn’t sure it was attraction. Perhaps it was just concern, but it was something.
As he wheeled her down the hall, he could feel the eyes of the nurses on him. There would be retribution for this in the form of their gossip and curious gazes for a few days, but he could handle that.
“Where are we going,” she asked as he took a detour from the hallway.
“To get some fresh air. I think you could use some.” He pushed open the door to a little covered patio on the south side of the hospital and wheeled her toward the lone bench that sat in the concrete area just outside the door.
The air was warm but a light breeze floated through stirring the crunchy leaves on the concrete and creating a rustling sound. He wondered if she would be warm enough. He should have asked if she wanted a blanket.
They kept some in a warmer by the door. He would remember that next time. Next time? Why was he already thinking about next time with Tia? What was it about her that kept her on his mind? Was it just her memory loss? Was it his need to protect her? Or was there more?
After making sure the brakes were locked on her wheelchair, he sat down on the bench and faced her. “I spoke with Detective Graves last night, and I thought you might want to know what he told me.”
Her lips parted in a slight smile before sadness crossed her face. “Why are you doing this for me? If what that woman said is true, I’m not a very nice person.”
Brody understood why she would feel that way but it bothered him that she did. Everyone made mistakes, and he couldn’t imagine the woman before him doing anything like that now. He also knew the information he was about to share wouldn’t make her feel any better, but if he were in her position, he would want to know all of it. The good and the bad. Knowing it all was the only way to make a change going forward. “Does the name Ava McDermott ring a bell for you?”
“Ava McDermott?” Tia turned the name over in her mouth like a fine wine, and her eyes stared into space as if searching for images to apply to the name. Then suddenly her eyes lit up. “I do remember an Ava McDermott. She’s a…” She paused for a moment as if having to coax the memory forward. “She’s a romance writer like me, isn’t she?”
Brody nodded. “She is.”
“I remember…” Tia’s face fell, and her gaze dropped to her hands. “Oh no, I remember being condescending to her at a ceremony for coming without a date. In fact, I think I was rather haughty quite often, but I feel like Ava and I might have been friends at one point.”
Brody doubted they were friends now, but he didn’t tell her that. Her remembering Ava was a step in the right direction, and he didn’t want to push her too hard. “Do you remember anything else about her? Anything more recently?”
Tia pursed her lips together. “I don’t, but I’m guessing I’m not going to like the sound of what I did.”
“Probably not, but it might explain what you’re doing here.” Brody took a deep breath as he thought about how best to tell her. “Evidently, you tried to ruin her reputation by outing her to tabloids for what you thought was a fake relationship.”
Tia closed her eyes and sighed. “Maybe I don’t want to remember my past. I don’t sound very nice.”
Brody had had the same thoughts when Jordan told him the story. Even now, he was having a hard time imagining the woman in front of him running to the tabloids. “Maybe the accident is God’s way of giving you another chance. I have to say that even though I’ve only known you a few days, I can’t see you doing those things now.”
“Is that because of the brain injury?” Tia asked.
“It could be. Brain injuries can often change the personality of the patient.” He watched her face fall. “But it could also be that you are changing.”
“Do you really believe in God?” The simple question held none of the condescension he usually felt when people posed that question.
Brody hadn’t been to church in a while, not since Rachel’s death, but they had gone regularly when she was alive, and he did still believe. “I do though I can’t say I’ve been a great Christian since my wife died. We used to attend every Sunday, but that stopped when she got sick. And though I know the importance of community in the church, I haven’t been back much.” He ran a hand across his chin. “Still, as a doctor, I have seen too many things I can’t explain, so to answer your question, yes I do believe in God.”
“I feel like I did at one time too. Do you think He forgives even people like me?”
“Hey.” Brody grabbed her hands. “First of all, you don’t know everything. And everyone has parts of their past they wish they could redo or forget. That’s normal. What we do about it is ask for forgiveness and strive to be better. You have this amazing opportunity before you to completely change your direction in life.”
He paused as he realized he was still holding her hands, and the warmth from them was taming the gnawing ache in his soul. Her eyes locked on his, and so much emotion flashed in them. Fear, longing, hope, desire. Though a solid blue color, the emotions they conveyed were like a quilt of many different fabrics sewn together. He should let go of her hands; he had no business falling for her, but he found he didn’t want to. Still, if someone came outside and saw them…. With great effort, he cleared his throat and dropped her hands, moving his to his pants leg. “How about Rico Rearden? Did you remember any more about him?”
She tilted her head at him, and her gaze tore through him. Could she see the effect she was having on him? Finally, she shook her head. “Nothing more than I was meeting with him about something, but I can’t remember what.”
Brody supplied her with the little information he knew in hopes it would help her. “He owns a publishing company, so perhaps you were meeting with him about that?”
A pained expression covered Tia’s face. “I don’t know. I remember calling him and asking for an appointment, but I don’t remember what happened after.”
Brody could tell she was getting frustrated, and his break was over anyway. It was time to return her to her room and finish his rounds. “Well, Detective Graves is still looking into both Rico and Debra. Neither appear to have a blac
k truck, so even though you are fearful of what you will remember, getting your memory back is vitally important. Someone might still be after you.”
Chapter 8
Detective Graves was in the room when they returned. “Where do these flowers come from?” he asked.
“From the gift shop downstairs usually or from outside sources,” Dr. Cavanaugh said as he wheeled Tia back to the bed.
“And how do they get delivered?”
Dr. Cavanaugh held out his hand and helped Tia stand and get situated back in the bed. “An orderly generally brings them to the floor and then either delivers them or gives them to the nurses to deliver.”
“Valerie brought mine in,” Tia supplied.
Detective Graves glanced over at her before turning his attention back to Dr. Cavanaugh. “I’m going to need to speak with her as well.”
“Fine, I’ll introduce you.” Dr. Cavanaugh turned back to Tia. “I’ll check on you before I leave for the night.”
Tia nodded, but she didn’t really feel like being alone. Even the security guard outside her door didn’t make her feel much safer. The flowers had still gotten to her, and what if they put anthrax or some kind of air borne poison on them next time? She supposed that was unlikely, but it could happen, right?
Plus, she had the information Dr. Cavanaugh had shared with her rattling around in her head. She’d had enough glimpses of her past to know that she had turned from a sweet Texas girl into a haughty nightmare of a woman, but she couldn’t believe she had tried to damage someone’s reputation. And while she agreed with Brody that it was important to remember her past for her current safety, she didn’t want to think about what an awful person she might have been. Was he right? Was this why this accident had happened to her? Was she being given a second chance? If she was, maybe it would be better if she didn’t remember her past.
“Hello, dear, would you like me to read to you some more today?”
Tia looked up to see Edith in the doorway. She held the Bible in her hands and a kind smile graced her face. “Do you come read to patients every day?”
Edith waddled into the room. “Not every day. I have Bridge on Mondays and square dancing on Thursdays, but I try to come on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and some Fridays if my health allows and I don’t miss the bus.”
Square dancing? This woman certainly seemed spry for someone so old.
“But you didn’t answer my question. Would you like me to read to you?”
Tia glanced at the book Brody had brought her yesterday. “Yes, but can you read me that?” She pointed to the book on the table beside her.
Edith picked up the book and raised an eyebrow. “True Love? Is this some sappy romance?”
“Maybe.” Tia shrugged. “I don’t know. It appears I wrote it, but I don’t remember it.”
“Well, I don’t normally read romances, but since you wrote it, I’ll give it a shot. If there are any heaving chests or panting of breaths in here, I stop though. Is that understood?” Edith flashed her a look that Tia imagined was the one she used when she reprimanded her children growing up. If she had any.
Tia nodded and smiled. “I don’t think I wrote those kind of romances, but agreed.” Having Edith read a scene like that out loud sounded just as mortifying to Tia as it must to Edith.
“Gayle climbed under her desk as the sound of her father’s angry footsteps carried down the hall…”
Suddenly, another piece of her past opened up. Tia saw herself curled under a desk where the chair normally sat. A blanket, held in place by the middle drawer, blocked the outside world and allowed her to believe she couldn’t be seen. A book lay open on her knees and she held a flashlight in one hand. She was reading. Reading under her desk to hide from her father.
Her father who had never wanted her. Who had told her she should have been a boy. Who had left when she was ten years old because he didn’t feel like being a dad any longer. Then her mother appeared. A woman with shoulders rolled forward from heavy work but kind eyes. A woman who had worked two jobs to provide for her and never complained. Tia saw the times her mother cried in her room when she thought Tia wasn’t watching. Cried because she didn’t have enough money to purchase groceries to feed Tia.
Tia sucked in a breath. That’s why she had started writing. She had hoped it would earn enough income that she could take care of her mother. Her teachers had always told her in school that she was creative - probably because she’d had to invent worlds to escape from her father’s angry words. So, when had she changed? When had she gone from wanting to write to help her mother to obsessing about her career so much that she was willing to ruin the reputations of other writers and throw herself at men in power just to boost her career?
But that’s where the memories stopped. She didn’t know. She couldn’t recall what had triggered her to become a woman she was now ashamed of. She couldn’t remember much after she had started writing except that, evidently, she wanted to be the most successful romance writer in the business, and the easiest way to accomplish that goal was to persuade herself to do despicable things.
Edith stopped reading and glanced up at Tia. “What is it?”
“I remember. I remember my past. At least most of it. My father hated me and left when I was young, and my mother worked hard to keep us fed. I remember wanting to write to make money to pay her back, but something changed. Somewhere along the way, I stopped caring about my mother and began only caring about myself.” Shame filled her. Even though she couldn’t remember every event, she knew there would be many she would regret when they surfaced in her memory.
“Fame can do that to people,” Edith said.
“But I don’t want to be that person any more. I want to go back to the girl who wanted to help her mother.”
“Then do it. You control what you do, and it appears you’ve been given a second chance at your life.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a guest. I can come back later.”
Tia looked up to see an unfamiliar nurse in her doorway. She was slim with olive skin and dark hair. Had Brody reassigned Valerie then?
“It’s no bother. You come do what you have to do. I can read around your examination,” Edith said as she glanced briefly at the nurse before dropping her gaze back to her book.
“Um, okay. How is your pain today?” the nurse asked.
“It’s better,” Tia said, “but shouldn’t you be writing that down?” She found it odd that this woman didn’t have the clipboard that Valerie and Brody usually walked in with.
The woman’s eyes widened, and her gaze flitted around the room. “You’re right. I must have forgotten it. It’s my first week. I’ll go get it and return later.”
Tia watched the woman walk out of the room and wondered about her. Was she really new? Forgetting to bring in the clipboard seemed like a ridiculous error even for someone who was new. Perhaps she was affiliated with the people after Tia. Maybe she was disguising herself as a nurse, so she could take Tia out without suspicion. Tia shook her head. Her imagination was running away with her. Things like that only happened in movies or television, but perhaps if she couldn’t remember how to write romances, she could write thrillers.
“They really need to train these nurses better,” Edith said when the woman was gone. “She’s the same one who tried to run me out yesterday. I told Dr. Cavanaugh he needed to talk to her. Guess I need to remind him again.”
The topic of Dr. Cavanaugh distracted Tia from her runaway thoughts of killers in disguise and she found herself asking a question she didn’t dare ask anyone else. “Do you know Dr. Cavanaugh well?”
“As well as you can know a doctor I guess,” Edith said as her eyes returned to the book. “I read a lot to his wife during her last days.”
“What was she like?” Tia had an image of Dr. Cavanaugh’s wife in her head, and she wanted to know if the woman was as saintly as she pictured her.
Edith looked up at Tia with a scrutinizing gaze. “She was lov
ely. A real woman of God. Even when the cancer took hold of her, she always remained positive and friendly to everyone. Now, should I continue reading?”
Tia nodded, but her mind no longer listened as Edith continued reading. She had wandered through the past long enough for today. Now, she needed to figure out how to change her future.
* * *
“I hear you took your patient outside,” Nick said as he came up behind Brody in the locker room.
Brody shrugged, but he was curious who had ratted him out. “It’s not against the rules.”
Nick opened his locker and pulled out his bag. “No, it’s not, but it’s not something doctors normally do. It’s also very unlike Brody Cavanaugh who never dates and rarely looks at women. And it has the nurses in a fit. You know how they like to gossip.”
Brody hung his coat up in the locker. “They gossip about everything. I doubt I’ll be the topic of their gossip much longer. Some episode of a tv drama will have replaced me by tomorrow.”
“Mmmhmm, but I thought you said you weren’t falling for this girl.”
Brody sighed and sank down on the bench seat that filled the wall on the other side of the small locker room. He dropped his head into his hands. “I wasn’t, but I have to be honest that I am having a hard time getting her off my mind. Every moment I spend with her is….calming, if that makes any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Nick said as he sat beside Brody. “Look man, I didn’t know Rachel well, but I have to think that she wouldn’t want this life for you. This throwing yourself into work and never having a social life. From what I did know of her, she would have wanted you to keep living, and part of living is not being alone. So, if you’re not pursuing this woman simply because of Rachel….” he shrugged, “I think you’re wrong.”
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