Accidents Happen (Forever Happens Book 1)

by Josie Bordeaux

  The front office staff wasn’t as sympathetic as the woman who took my call had been, even though I had tried to be as composed as possible. When I was finally called to go back, the nurse skimmed my file and her eyes immediately softened.

  After checking my vitals, she stopped for a moment and the warmth of her hand touching me helped relax me a little. “It’ll be all right. Take some deep breaths and the doctor will be right in.”

  Waiting for the doctor on the table as instructed, I wondered how many times I’d done this before my accident and thought nothing of it. I sniffled for the umpteenth time and wondered why hadn’t I called John to come with me, wringing my hands as I scanned the walls and read the posters to give myself something to do. It would have been nice to have someone hold my hand. Women do this all the time is what I kept thinking to myself, but then I realized…my situation wasn’t like any other woman’s.

  Cal. Should I have called him, since it might be his child?

  Tears pricked my eyes again. The thin, white sheet did nothing to cover my body, and if anything it increased my vulnerability. I swiped at my tears and tried for the thousandth time to slow my breathing. It didn’t help that as I tried to take a deep breath, my whole body shook.

  A quick knock at the door followed by it immediately swinging open shot more panic straight through me. I was at my wits end and so jumpy I wondered if he would inject me with something to knock me out and put me out of my misery. The doctor entered the room holding my file and grabbed a seat. My eyes followed the woman who came in behind him. She scurried over to the counter and began lining up an array of strange objects. What were they going to do to me? Had I made a mistake going there?

  “Mrs. Vasslor, your husband alerted us that you’d be coming in.”

  “He did?” Immediately thoughts of him calling about his crazy wife and them discussing what to do with me filled my mind.

  “Yes, he said you were going through a lot last night, not that I could blame you. Losing your memory would be extremely stressful in itself. He suggested that perhaps you might need to be placed on bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy.”

  “Bed rest? What…”

  His hand touched my arm, comforting me immediately. “I’m not going to do that. I truly believe that would actually be more detrimental to you. You need to keep busy so that you’re not so focused on the stress you’re going through right now.”

  His voice was kind, and I wanted to relax but couldn’t when I glanced over to the nurse. She opened cabinet doors and took out more objects.

  “The last time I saw you in the hospital, you were pretty shaken, and by taking a look at you right now, you’re feeling about the same.” He paused as I gave him a blank look, still trying to control my tears. “That’s what I thought. You probably don’t remember, but I was called in during your hospital stay by your husband, the moment he found out you were pregnant, to make sure everything was going to be all right.

  “You had a traumatic experience and,” he took my hand and patted it, “it’s all going to be all right.”

  I studied his kind face. He was an older man with wrinkles that outlined both his eyes. There was barely a hair on his head, and the ones that remained were gray.

  “Do you have any questions?” he asked as he opened a file folder and began reading through it.

  “Yes. The stress. I…from not remembering anything, I’ve been worried a lot. I read that it’s possible to have a miscarriage from stress.”

  “You can have a miscarriage for many reasons. Or even none at all. Reading online about all those things isn’t going to help matters one bit. I suggest you relax a little and enjoy being pregnant.”

  “That’s the thing.” I leaned in as my heartbeat quickened again inside my chest. I swiped at the tears streaming down my cheeks and sniffled. “I haven’t been throwing up. All pregnant women throw up all the time. I’m not even nauseous.”

  “That’s more common than you think. Women aren’t going to complain about never throwing up. You’re only upset because it seems everyone else goes through that. Every single woman’s pregnancy is different. For that matter, the same woman could have totally different pregnancy symptoms on her next child.”

  Relaxing slightly, I managed to take in what he was saying, glad that my baby wasn’t in trouble because I wasn’t throwing up like other pregnant women. I ran my hand over my stomach, hoping that would help relieve more stress—until I remembered the other issues. John might not be the father. How would I bring that up?

  “Is there anything else on your mind? Any other questions?”

  I swallowed, unsure how to ask. “Is this completely confidential? Is this between us or will my husband also have access to this conversation?” I noticed the nurse turn and perk up one eye brow. Maybe I wouldn’t ask this time.

  “This is only between us. He’s not privy to this information, by law.”

  My eyes flitted around the room as if I’d find the answers on the white walls that surrounded me. Did I really need to know right then if Cal was the father? “A…paternity test.” My heart sank the moment his brow raised. It wasn’t by much, but I’m sure someone in his profession tried to keep his facial expressions as even as possible.

  I swallowed, wondering if I should even go on. My heart pounded, and the heat in my cheeks now spread throughout my body. The thin sheet that I had shivered beneath earlier now seemed like a wool coat.

  I felt another pat to my hand, and my eyes reached concerned eyes staring back at me. “Let’s discuss this more after your examination, okay?”

  I nodded, the embarrassment still resonating through me as the doctor pulled up a machine near me.

  “We don’t normally do this when you and the baby seem to be healthy, but seeing as your situation is very different, let’s have a look, shall we?”

  Grateful he was making it so I didn’t even need to speak anymore, I stared at the large machine. I found it odd that the first time I remembered feeling a man’s hand between my legs would be from a doctor. I’d prefer to remember the details of how I became pregnant first.

  Then there was a strange murmured heartbeat that filled the room and echoed off the walls. The sounds were muffled but fast, and I turned to look at the machine to the left of me. The small TV-type device held a black-and-white image of a black oval shape with a small grayish blob inside of it.

  “There’s your little one,” the doctor proclaimed.

  My heart stuttered and I took another quivering breath. My baby. That’s my baby. My breath shook as I swallowed and stared at the screen while he pointed out the little stubs that would soon be his arms and legs, the larger oval attached that was the head. The head for my little baby. Oh God, this is real! I’m really pregnant.

  “Everything is okay, Andrea. Your baby looks really good and healthy. Your due date will be April 9th, give or take a few days. Now, you go ahead and get changed, and we’ll talk some more about your earlier concern.”

  Wishing I hadn’t asked that paternity question, I felt my cheeks heat as I tugged the thin sheet tighter around me.

  He smiled before he left and handed me a small, shiny paper. It was a printout of the image I had seen on the screen. This was my baby’s first picture!

  After hearing all my options about different paternity tests and having a good cry in front of a man who swore he’d seen it all before, I left the office clutching the first picture of my baby in my hands. The rain was coming down again, so I sat on the lobby bench and stared at the creation I was growing inside of me.

  I wanted to share that moment with someone. It should have been with my husband, but I couldn’t do that knowing I wasn’t sure if he was really the father or not.

  After a while I finally pulled out my notebook and tucked away my baby’s first picture between its pages. I took out my phone and stared at my contact list, which John had probably entered for me. Mallory’s name jumped out at me. There was no way I’d call her, especially
after the expression she’d held when I mentioned my pregnancy. Her response to the semi-announcement was questionable. Why would she be so upset? As a best friend, shouldn’t she have thrown her arms around me and begged to be called “aunt”? I didn’t want to think about that at the moment—not when I was content, fresh with happy new memories of my baby’s heartbeat. That sound might have seemed strange to some, but to me it was the best music ever. A new sound to fill my memory bank.

  Thirteen

  Andi

  "My phone was destroyed in an accident. I think when my husband purchased my new phone, he didn't upload all of my data. I was hoping you could help me."

  The rain had finally died down, only to start up again the moment I crossed the street and entered the cell phone store—although it seemed to follow me inside since water clung to the tendrils of my hair. A drop fell onto the gray laminate counter, and I quickly wiped it away with a nervous hand.

  After staring at the contacts in my phone while I sat in the lobby, I wanted to check and see if John had restored my phone properly. As soon as I noticed who my carrier was at the top of my screen, I searched for a nearby store close to my doctor’s office. I managed to walk the three blocks without the rain pouring on me. My fear was that I hadn't backed it up before my accident, and this really was all the info that could be retrieved.

  “Ah, here it is.” With a couple more taps of her fingers, she looked up with half a smile. “Looks like the account is brand new. I’m afraid there’s nothing to back up. It’s only been open for a few days.”

  Pulling the corner of my lip between my teeth, I tried to process what she had said. ”That can't be.” Why would John lie to me? There had to be another explanation. “I had to have a phone before my accident.” I stared blankly at the saleslady; her makeup and her black, pin-straight hair were flawless.

  Her eyes flicked from the phone in her hand up to the scar on my forehead. Mashing her lips together, she was trying to come up with a reason also. ”I’ve checked both your name and your husband’s.” She entwined her fingers nervously before asking, “Could there be another name you would have used?"

  My eyes flickered to the different shapes, colors, and sizes of phones lining the walls as my brows pinched together. My stomach churned at all the reasons why I would have used another name.

  "Maybe it was under your maiden name?" the woman suggested with a hopeful lilt to her voice. There was no one else in the store except for the two of us, which helped me feel only slightly better. I wasn’t sure why I was embarrassed, but if there had been other people in the store, I knew I would have lowered my voice for some reason.

  My stomach dropped. “Maiden name?” Had I had another phone to hide things from my husband? Like an affair.

  “Yes.” She looked at her keyboard and began typing before I’d even given her any information. “I’ve seen some people have their account for so long that it was from before they were married, and they’d never switched it over.”

  A small wave of relief ran through me as I nodded, feeling a little less guilty, although not completely. Digging through my purse, I pulled out my journal and flipped through the pages from when John had told me my maiden name. "Lowry.” I stated the name with finality and spelled it out for her.

  She nodded and began typing while I stood there, my heart beating frantically inside my chest.

  "Uh-huh. There it is.” Her smile was proud as she stated she was correct. “You did have another phone under a separate account. A different phone number."

  I swallowed as my stomach dropped. Sneaky and deceitful. What kind of person was I? My hands hovered over the gray counter and I noticed how much they shook. "Is it possible to back up the data to this phone?"

  "Well, this phone is associated with another account. You'd have to purchase another phone." After processing this new dilemma, I decided it might be good to have a phone separate from the other purchased by John—to be able to have all the info from my past on a private phone. The thought also made me nauseous. The lies were piling up. My fingers trembled as I took out the credit card John had given to me, saying he’d called and replaced my old ones. A new phone with all my old information on it. I tapped my index finger nail on the counter as I thought of all the information I might find. It was both nerve-racking and exciting.

  I was going to find out about my old life.

  This phone was a connection to my past.

  The new phone in my purse felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. How many men’s phone numbers were in my contact list? What kind of texts had I sent? How many lies had I told to John?

  The rain had subsided except for a light drizzle. The weather didn’t matter much to me, since a dismal feeling already surrounded me. I must have looked as I felt—the humid Georgia air mixed with the rain matted my curls to my face and neck.

  As much as I wanted to run to a coffee shop and scroll through the phone, the thought also terrified me. I felt like a kid who’d stolen something and wanted to play with the new toy, but felt too guilty to do so.

  That’s when the phone rang. Not my new one, but my old one that John had given me. I stared at it for a moment as if it were some snake that was going to bite me. Well, it might as well have been, since it was Mallory’s name that appeared on the caller ID.

  “Hello?” My voice came out too timid and I cursed myself for sounding that way. Especially with her.

  “Andrea! After we left last night, I kept telling Phil how much I missed our times together.”

  “Our times?” Lifting my head, I glanced around the sidewalk and then wandered to the wall of a nearby building and leaned against it. Unsure of what she might say, I thought bracing myself might be necessary.

  “Yes, we used to hang out at the spa all the time. I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and took the liberty of making appointments for us for tomorrow. You weren’t doing anything anyway, right? John mentioned you’ve been staying at home in preparations.”

  Preparations? The spitefulness in me wanted to laugh that she couldn’t even say the word “baby.” What was her deal?

  “Oh. Tomorrow? I…well, I guess that would be fine.” I really couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse not to go except pulling out each of my fingernails one by one. I shook my head, realizing that going to meet her at the spa the next day would be a good way to find out more about my past. Or with her, at least an attempt to find out.

  “Wonderful. I’ll text you the address, since I’m sure you can’t remember. Your car is fixed, right?”

  My car? I swallowed. Did I really want to drive again so soon? “I, well…” At some point I would have to start driving again, but I hadn’t thought it would be so soon. I inhaled deeply, wondering if driving again really was something I wanted to do. “It’s new,” I admitted and then swallowed again.

  “Ohh.” A pause hung in the air. “Are you nervous about getting back in the driver’s seat?” she cooed. “Don’t be. It’s just like riding a horse again.”

  “Have I ridden a horse before?”

  A cackle emanated from my phone, and I pulled it away and stared at the object for a moment. I was actually being serious. “That is funny, considering you were an accomplished rider.” I was? “I’ll see you tomorrow at ten a.m. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Accomplished rider? I guess I would find out more the next day.

  As I stared out into the busy street, still pondering the entire strange conversation, another tone rang out but it seemed muffled. I realized quickly that the sound was coming from the other phone—my new one. I wasn’t sure why I expected it to be Mallory again, but I answered, apprehensive as to who could be calling that line. A sigh of relief escaped me as I heard a familiar voice. “Andi!” I smiled the moment I heard her.

  “Oh, thank God, you finally answered!” she practically screamed. “Whew!” She laughed. “Kyle!” Her voice was still loud, but I assumed she had pulled the device away from her mouth. “I finally got her!”

&nbs
p; “Lana? How long have you been calling this number?”

  “Andi, this is the only one we have. Both Cal and I have been trying ever since you went missing.” And all of that made sense now—why they kept telling me to call them and yet I didn’t have their numbers. I’d barely even looked at the new phone before dropping it into my purse, but I had been sure I’d have so much more information on it than the one John had given me. And with that thought, I couldn’t wait to explore it even more.

  “Listen,” Lana said. “Cal did some searching last night and he’s got a lot to talk to you about. Kyle’s been doing some digging too, and might be able to help us out.” My mind was whirling. What information would they have? “Do you think you can meet us down at the Maiden for a late lunch?”

  “Maiden?”

  “The Freckled Maiden, we met there…oh shoot! You don’t remember any of that.” She told me the exact address and told me she and Kyle would be down there to meet me, letting me know she’d call Cal too.

  I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address to the bar, more than a little anxious to get there. While in the cab, I began sifting through my apps. I checked the voice messages, but oddly enough there were none. The texts too—there was nothing there. Emails, nothing. It was almost as if this phone were exactly like the one John had given me. There weren’t even any contacts.

  The silly object felt even heavier now than when I had thought it held all my secrets. I flipped it over and over again against my hand, as if that might shake some sense into it. I willed it to give me some information—anything that might give me some answers to all the questions I had. I slumped back into the seat of the cab as I threw the phone into my purse. I was no closer to finding out about my past than I had been before I’d figured out the whole phone debacle.