“I’ve been going in there for months, Mary B.,” I argued, swinging around to face her. A few of the other nurses and staff gave us a wide berth. They likely knew this was coming, too.
Everyone liked me; no one wanted to tell me no. Not about this. Not about her.
“She was in a coma then. You know this is different.”
“How is she?” I asked.
“So far, she seems okay, all things considered. It’s only been a couple hours.”
I wanted to ask, yet I didn’t. In the end, the words rasped out of my throat like two rocks scraping together. “Did she ask for me?”
Mary Beth just looked at me for long moments. Her palm slid over my forearm, and I glanced down to where she touched me. “Why don’t we sit down?”
Allowing her to lead me to the row of nearby chairs, we sat at the end. Mary Beth perched on the end of her seat, angling her knees toward me, leaning her torso close. Her fingers were still wrapped around my arm, but I barely noticed. I just wanted in that room.
“She has no memory, Eddie.”
My head lifted swiftly. “What?”
“She doesn’t remember anything.”
I sat forward, the movement so abrupt her hand fell off my arm. “Like nothing at all?” I asked, trying to understand.
“Not even her own name.”
“But she remembers her past, though.”
Mary Beth shook her head sadly. “Nothing.”
“Is that normal?”
“It’s rare.” She hedged. “But considering her condition the night you brought her in, it’s not unheard of.”
Shoving up out of the chair, I paced, pushing my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “She must be terrified.”
“The doctor said her memory could come back in a few days.”
“I’m going back there,” I insisted, starting back down the hall.
“No.” Mary Beth sprang up. “Doctor’s orders, Eddie. She’s already dealing with enough. She doesn’t need you—” Her words cut off abruptly.
I swung around, my eyes glittering with anger. “I wouldn’t do anything to make her upset.”
Mary Beth’s brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail and the ends slid over her shoulder when she sighed and stepped closer. “I know that. We all know that. But this is best for her.”
A few curse words slipped out when I paced away, stacking my hands at the back of my neck and staring out the small window nearby.
Seconds later, Mary Beth was at my side again. Tentatively, she touched my side, and I stiffened. “If she asks for you, I’ll come get you.”
She didn’t ask for me.
Not yesterday and not today. She hadn’t remembered anything, and everyone in the hospital—hell, the entire town—was talking about her. This was the juiciest gossip in Lake Loch in over ten years.
Everyone loved our quaint little town, the quiet, the way it was sort of untouched by modern day. We were a little retro here, a little backward. Even still, the people loved drama. Something to spice up the monotony of this charming place. There was a new buzz in the air, a charge not usually found. I knew I was also part of the speculation. People were watching me, waiting to see what I would do.
All I wanted was to see her.
When I arrived earlier, I got the head shakes and finger points to the waiting room. I trudged in glumly, thinking maybe I could snag Mary Beth and talk her into letting me back. It seemed eventful today, as everyone was moving around busily and had no time to talk. Not that I minded… but I did wonder if maybe they were all just looking busy so they could avoid me.
After hanging out for about two hours, my impatience got the better of me. I waited so long… so incredibly long. I just wanted to see her. To talk to her. Then I would know.
I had to know.
At the nurses’ station just down the hall from her room, I rested my forearms on the counter and leaned toward one of the older nurses on staff. “Hey, Ellen. Is Mary Beth around?”
Ellen glanced up from her paperwork. With a sigh, she shook her head slightly but then smiled. “You are a persistent one, Eddie.”
I smiled, making sure to show my teeth. I had dimples. Everyone loved dimples.
Ellen chuckled, getting up from her chair. “Mary Beth isn’t here. Her shift doesn’t begin until seven. So you’ll have to sweet-talk someone else.”
“Like you?” I smiled a little bigger.
Ellen reached out and pinched my cheeks. “I’d love for you to try, but I have to get this paperwork downstairs. It’s a nice day out there. You should go enjoy it.”
I didn’t reply, and she went off to deliver her paperwork, leaving me alone at the counter. One of the other nurses walked past me and down the hall, turned the corner, and disappeared out of sight.
My stare wandered down to the room where I spent so much time. I could slip right in. No one was around to notice. Before she woke up, I never hesitated. I just went. Now, though, it seemed I needed to think about things first. Suddenly, I was nervous.
What would she be like with no memory? Would she know me if she saw me? What if it wasn’t her? What if it was?
With a heavy sigh, I backed up, moving away from the counter until my back hit the wall. Slouching in a little, I tucked my hands in my jeans and bowed my head to think.
For all the bustling going on around here today, things seemed to hush, to settle down, as if everything held its breath.
A low creaking filled my ears, a noise so low I wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t so quiet. Lifting my chin toward the sound, my eyes went right to the figure that seemed to appear in the hallway out of thin air. Shock and anticipation battled in my chest, rumbling down to my stomach, making it flip over.
It was her.
Paralyzed, I couldn’t move at all. I stayed there in my position against the wall, my eyes clinging to her every move. Her every detail.
She didn’t see me. All her focus was on putting one foot in front of the other, moving cautiously over the tile.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away to see if someone was coming to help her or if maybe she was out here because she was supposed to be. As soon as the thought drifted through my mind, I knew she was out here rebelliously. There was no way the staff would let a girl with no memory wander the halls alone.
The white-and-blue-checked hospital gown was all I’d seen her in since I brought her that night. It hung off her thin frame like curtains on an open window on a breezy summer day. The scratchy fabric floated around her, swaying slightly as she walked.
Her movements were slow. She leaned on the IV pole, which was what made the low squeaking sound. The one wheel probably needed tightened.
She was medium height, shorter than me, but not what I would consider short. I was just tall. Her feet were bare, and she had long fingers. Her skin was pale, and there was a spattering of light freckles over her nose. As I watched, her teeth sank into her lower lip in concentration, and something in me melted a little.
I was so weak when it came to her. I didn’t even know why.
Well, yes, I did. I’d always been weak to this girl, but looking at her now, it seemed in more ways than I even realized.