by Maggie Way
He tried to speak again, but his dry throat refused to cooperate. Lynn gently pressed an ice chip to his lips and he accepted it. In a hushed voice, Lynn quickly relayed what had been happening. Dr. Marshall nodded and approached John.
“My name is Dr. Marshall. Do you know where you are?” he asked John.
John’s eyes roamed around the room before settling back on Dr. Marshall. “No,” he croaked after several failed attempts at speaking. His voice was harsh and raspy, but Gretchen loved finally hearing it.
“You’re in a hospital,” Dr. Marshall said. “Do you know what happened to you?”
Frowning in thought, John remained quiet for a few moments before shaking his head. His eyes squeezed shut and Gretchen immediately worried the movement had hurt him.
Dr. Marshall sighed. “Well, unfortunately, neither do we. This young woman over here found you in the middle of the road. It looked as if you’d been attacked by someone, or more likely, by several someones. As it is, we don’t even know who you are, either. You were brought with no identification whatsoever. But, now that you’re awake, we can get your information and let your family know where you are.”
“Who…I am?” John asked. He let his head fall back to the pillow and closed his eyes.
“Yes. We need to get your name, address, insurance information, so we can get you taken care of and sent home. One of the nurses will take everything down.” Dr. Marshall turned to Maria as he said, “Why don’t you set up another MRI, and let’s get him a consultation with the physical therapist.”
Maria nodded and was about to leave when John spoke and stopped her. “Wait.” He shook his head again, slowly. “You don’t…know who I am?”
Dr. Marshall frowned, his ever present weariness showing plainly. “No, I don’t. No one does. Miss Gesner found you and brought you in with no identification. Just tell Lynn your name and we’ll get this cleared up.”
“I can’t,” John said, trying but not succeeding in lifting his hand.
“And why is that?” Dr. Marshall said.
“Because…I don’t know,” John said. “I don’t know what happened…or who I am. I can’t remember anything.”
Lynn had an odd half-smile on her face, like she was waiting for John to say he was kidding. Maria looked confused, and Dr. Marshall’s face turned up to the ceiling, as though he couldn’t believe his bad luck. Gretchen didn’t know what to do or think. A few minutes ago her hope that she would truly get to know the man she had been watching over all week seemed to have been reached, but now she realized she knew more about him than he did.
Overwhelming sadness filled her. It wasn't for herself, but for him. He had nearly lost his life, and now he had just woken up to discover that his life was the only thing he had left. Whatever else once encompass his world was now gone, stolen away by whoever nearly killed him.
What was he going to do?
Realizing there was a whole discussion going on around her, Gretchen came out of her thoughts and tried to pay attention. Dr. Marshall was arguing with Maria and Lynn about what to do next. Maria thought she should still order the MRI, while Dr. Marshall wondered if they should speak to the hospital director first. No memory meant no insurance. Lynn looked ready to deck the doctor at the suggestion they postpone treatment because of John’s situation. Dr. Marshall backpedaled, claiming he only meant they should let the director know what was going on first.
Their conversation hadn’t been worth tuning into. It was a county hospital. They would have to keep and treat John until he was well enough to go home. Home. What would that even mean for him? The thought of being turned out with nothing was terrifying. Looking over at John, she saw worry in his eyes, too. There was little doubt in her mind that he was wondering the same thing she was.
“Hey,” Gretchen said to him, “are you all right?”
“I…don’t know,” he said. “I feel awful. My whole body hurts.”
“Well, you look a million times better than when I first saw you,” she said. She squeezed his hand lightly, making sure she didn’t cause him any more pain. “You’re getting better, though. It will just take a while.”
John stared at their linked hands. His eyebrows furrowed as if he was wondering why her hand was there. Or he might have been in pain. Gretchen suddenly had a very strong desire to pull her hand away and try not to blush. What was he thinking about her?
“You found me?” he asked.
Gretchen nodded. His eyes closed again. For a long moment, he said nothing. He seemed to be taking his time, maybe trying to focus his mind on the words he wanted to say. It took him a while to get everything organized.
“But you didn’t see what happened to me, and you don’t know who I am?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, I don’t. When I found you, you had already been attacked. I don’t know what happened,” Gretchen said. He didn’t have a lot of hope to begin with, but what little he did have seemed to dissolve at her answer. She wondered if the reality of his situation was beginning to sink in.
“What are you still doing here?” John asked suddenly.
Gretchen couldn’t stop herself from pulling her hand away. It was hardly the reception she’d been hoping for. All week she had imagined what John would say to her when he finally woke up. “What are you still doing here?” hadn’t even been on the list. Gretchen could feel her face heating, so she looked down at her jeans and mumbled, “I just wanted to make sure you were going to be okay.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” John said, shaking his head again. “My head…it’s hard to focus and think straight. I just meant, why would you stay when you don’t even know me?”
Looking up, Gretchen scanned his face, trying to gauge whether or not he meant it. If he didn’t want her there, she wouldn’t force herself on him. Seeing honesty in his face, she let herself relax. Maybe he didn’t think she was a stalker after all. Gretchen was about to answer his question when Dr. Marshall stepped up to the foot of the bed and interrupted.
“In addition to the MRI and the consult with the physical therapist, we’re going to schedule you an appointment with the neurologist here in town, and if necessary, up to Albuquerque for additional testing when you’ve recovered enough.” Dr. Marshall glanced over at Maria and shooed her off to make the calls. Gretchen stifled a smile as Maria sneered at his back before leaving.
“We’ll keep you here for another day or two to monitor you and run a few more tests, but most of your injuries are healing nicely. As long as your tests results come back normal, we should have you out of here in a couple of days,” Dr. Marshall said to John.
“A couple of days?” John said. “Where am I supposed to go after that?”
With a shrug that showed he didn’t have the answers John wanted, Dr. Marshall said, “I don’t know,” and walked out of the room.
Chapter Six
Alone
John watched him walk out, his complexion changing shades, deepening to a mottled red. Mixing with the bruises running down his face, the result was a startling rainbow of fear and anger. Gretchen didn’t know what to do. It was all turning out to be very different than she’d imagined it would be. That shouldn’t have been surprising, but it was. She was still trying to decide how to help John when Lynn beat her to it.
“Don’t get too worked up over Dr. Compassionate. If he doesn’t piss off at least five of his patients a day, he doesn’t feel like he’s doing his job right. And I will give you a hundred dollars if you can find a single nurse that doesn’t want to kill him in his sleep,” Lynn said with a smirk.
“In his sleep?” John mumbled.
“Well, we are nurses. If we were going to kill someone, we’d have to make it as painless as possible,” she said. Her smile widened to a grin. “That is our job after all.”
John’s lingering anger fell away as he chuckled, careful not to move anything and bring on more pain. Gretchen wanted to hug Lynn for making him feel better, even though a swift pang
of jealousy that she hadn’t been the one to take away his anger tried to crowd its way in.
“And don’t get too worried about what will happen when they release you from the hospital just yet,” Lynn continued. “Patient Services will be able to help get you what you need. And whether you know it or not, you have a few friends who won’t let you walk out of here without making sure you’re going to be all right.”
Lynn’s gaze drifted over to Gretchen and that sneaky smile she always wore when she talked about her son crept onto her lips. She was hatching something, and Gretchen had a pretty good idea of what it was. Lynn knew Gretchen was single and infatuated with John. No wonder she smiled when she talked about her son. He obviously got his mischievous streak from her. Gretchen tried to keep from acknowledging she had any clue what her friend meant as she watched her pat John’s less-injured leg and promise to be back to get him for his MRI in a few hours.
Sitting in silence, John and Gretchen didn’t even look at each other. Did he guess what Lynn had been thinking? She started looking around the room in an effort to avoid his gaze. She really hoped he was thinking about something totally different. He had plenty of other problems to think about anyway, such as having no idea who he was or how he ended up here. That alone was enough to occupy a person’s mind for quite a while.
When she looked back at John, it turned out he wasn’t thinking of anything at all. He was asleep. Seeing his eyes closed and his body still once again sent a momentary jolt of panic through her. He wouldn’t fall back into a coma, would he? Unable to resist, Gretchen poked his hand softly. The sight of his fingers moving reassured her. Once the initial wave of anxiety ebbed, she realized his eyes were moving around under his eyelids, the corner of his mouth twitching. The slow shift of his head into a more comfortable position told her he was only sleeping.
Sitting back in her chair, but keeping her hands to herself, she kept a close eye on John as he slept. Everyone else was busy scheduling tests and tending other patients. No one disturbed him. It was several hours before his eyes struggled back open and found their way to Gretchen.
“Did I fall asleep?” he asked, looking chagrined. Gretchen nodded. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’ve been through a lot. Sleep as much as you want.”
His non-casted hand reached up to rub his eyes. Either the bruises on his hand, or his face, made the motion too painful. He winced and gently set his hand back on the bed. “Thanks for staying,” he said. “It was strange enough waking up here like I did. Waking up alone…I don’t know. It would have been worse…I think.”
“Is it still hard to concentrate?”
“Yeah. Everything in my head feels like it’s wrapped in cotton. It’s…not a good feeling.”
“I can imagine it isn’t. I’m sure it will get better with time.”
“I hope so,” John said, closing his eyes again. “Have you been here since you found me?”
“Well, not the whole time,” Gretchen said, trying not to sound completely pathetic. “I had to go back to work on Tuesday, but I did come by in the evenings to check on you.”
“Why?” John asked.
“Because I was worried,” she said. “You were in pretty bad shape when I found you.”
Taking in his broken leg and arm, plus all the bandages, John sighed. “I must have been.” His hand idly reached down to his leg and scratched just above his cast. “I wish I could remember what happened.”
“I’m sure you will eventually,” Gretchen said. “It will just take some time. That’s all.”
“Your family didn’t mind you spending so much time at the hospital?” John asked.
Gretchen froze. Was he trying to figure out whether or she was single, or just hoping he hadn’t taken me away from someone. Gretchen had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from showing her confusion.
“My parents live in Denver and my goldfish really couldn’t care less whether I’m home or not. As long as they get their food, they’re happy.” Gretchen watched his face carefully as she spoke. She could have sworn she saw the corners of his lips turn up just a bit. Pushing away any thoughts that might take off from that little hint, she tried to focus on what John needed, not what she wanted.
“I wonder where my parents live,” he said quietly.
“Just give it time,” Gretchen said.
John sighed and turned to look up at the ceiling. “It’s strange that I can miss people I don’t even know. I can’t remember my family at all, but it’s like I can feel their absence. I know they’re out there. I just don’t know where.”
Trying not to sound like a broken record, Gretchen attempted to comfort him without reminding him it would take time for his memory to come back. “I’m sure they’re looking for you, too,” she said.
John reached up to run his fingers through his hair. Touching his tender scalp made him grimace, but he scratched a spot on his head before abandoning the effort. He lay back on his pillow and stared at the ceiling for a while before speaking again. “This feels so strange, not being able to remember anything. I don’t even know where I am, or how I got here, or what my favorite color is. I don’t know who you are, either. You’ve been watching out for me for days, and I don’t even know your first name.”
Well, if coma patients could hear a person when they spoke, they certainly didn’t remember what anyone told them.
“I’m Gretchen Gesner,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. She felt a little silly, having already spent so much time with him, but for him it was their first official meeting. John took her hand and shook it slowly. She loved the fact that he didn’t have to stifle a laugh or hide a smile when she told him her name. Everybody thought her name was old fashioned and strange, including Gretchen.
“Gretchen. It’s nice to meet you,” John said. “I wish I could tell you what my name is, but I’ve got nothing.”
“Well, that may be one good thing about losing your memory. At least now you can choose a name you like and not be stuck with something like Gretchen,” she said.
“You don’t like your name?” he asked.
She shook her head emphatically.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I kind of like it,” John said. His face turned thoughtful for a moment. “I guess you could always just go by your initials if you don’t like Gretchen, though.”
“My initials?” she said slowly. She really hoped he wasn't going where she thought he was.
“Yeah, G.G., Gigi,” John said with a grin. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”
Gretchen groaned. It usually took people a lot longer to come up with that. She made it through half of kindergarten before someone tried to call her Gigi. He only did it once, because she bit him on the nose for it. High school had been even more unforgiving when some guys thought Gigi would make a perfect name for the profession they thought Gretchen should take up due to her curvy figure.
“I hate the name Gigi,” she said, trying to sound cheerful but deadly serious at the same time. It didn’t quite work. “It makes me sound like I’m some kind of stripper.”
That really made John laugh. At least until it hurt too much and he had to calm himself down. It took him a few minutes to stop grimacing, but he eventually found a position that didn’t cause him too much pain. Relaxed on his pillow, he looked as if he had forgotten his uncertain future for a moment. It didn’t last. Eventually his face clouded up again and the set of his jaw showed his worry.
“If it helps,” Gretchen started, “I’ve been calling you John. Mainly because they put John Doe on your chart, but it seemed like it fit you. It might be something to start with, until you remember your real name, or you pick another one.”
John’s eyes opened. They looked less dark than they had earlier. “John, that’s not so bad,” he said. “It’s certainly no Gretchen, but it might work for now.”
His sense of humor was growing on her. Just about everyone she knew growing up made fun of her name at som
e point—Gretch makes me retch—but his kidding felt much different. He honestly seemed to think her name was great. That was definitely a first, although Gretchen supposed her parents must have liked it, since they were the ones who saddled her with it. They didn’t really count, though. She had a sneaking suspicion they were more than a little crazy.
“There’s no way I’m keeping Doe as a last name, though. It’s a dead giveaway to potential employers that I’ve got no job skills at all,” John said.
Their eyes met and they both started laughing. Gretchen couldn’t help herself, but she also couldn’t believe how well he was taking everything. Was he in some kind of shock? It was great he could laugh, but she knew she would be freaking out if it were her. The poor man had no name, no home, no future. How could he laugh about that? Gretchen’s laughter faltered. She wanted to cry. She wanted to wrap him up in her arms and bawl her eyes out with him. Maybe that was just a girl thing. She had yet to meet a guy who really made sense to her.
Wiping a tear away that she wasn’t sure whether it came from laughing too much or from sadness, she was surprised when she felt John’s fingers interlock with hers. When Gretchen looked up, the smile was still there, but behind that she could see the uncertainty, panic, and fear. They could laugh all day, but they both knew eventually he would have to face walking out of the hospital alone.
Not alone, Gretchen said to herself. Whatever else happened, she would never let him walk out alone. John squeezed her hand and she hoped he knew that she wasn't going anywhere. Placing her other hand on top of his, Gretchen held onto him.
“I’m glad you’re here, Gretchen Gesner,” he said, his stoic mask trying to hide his emotions.
“So am I,” she whispered.
Gretchen watched his eyes close and panicked at losing sight of his blue eyes. She had to remind herself they would open again. He needed to rest. John’s breathing slowed into the rhythmic pattern of deep sleep, but still, she held him. Even if it was a promise only made to herself, she would not leave him alone.
