Once inside the small adjoining bathroom, Zombie sets me on my feet and keeps his hands on my biceps to steady me. The space is small, and he’s so large that his presence is intimidating.
“Please step out, sir,” the nurse states, her hand gripping the IV pole she wheeled in with us.
“You okay, Mellie?” Zombie asks, not bothering to look at the other woman.
“Y-yeah. Thank you.”
He nods and steps out of the room. The nurse shuts the door behind him, closing us in.
“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself,” she begins. “I’m Angie, one of your nurses for the day.” When I don’t say anything, she continues. “Why don’t we get this gown off and get you a clean one?”
“C-can I brush my teeth?” I ask, needing that more than a stupid gown that exposes my bare ass.
“Of course.” She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a small tube of toothpaste, a brand-new toothbrush, and a travel-size bottle of mouthwash. “Here ya go.”
I take a deep breath, then another and another, before going through the motions of brushing my teeth and swishing mouthwash. Feeling a little better, I look at her through the reflection in the mirror.
“I think I can change on my own,” I tell her.
She stares at me as if she wants to argue, but she must think better of it because she nods with a smile. “Okay. There’s a clean gown in there,” she says, pointing to a small cupboard along one of the walls. “I’ll be right outside the door if you need any help, okay?”
“Thanks.”
As soon as I’m alone, I collapse onto the toilet and hang my head. This is all too much. Not only was I in what I’m being told was a serious car accident, which stole my memories, but I’ve also just learned that my parents are dead, and a man I was apparently close to has also died.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, tears freely flowing from my eyes, when the door opens, and Angie appears.
“You okay?” she asks. Swiping at my cheeks, I slowly nod but immediately start crying again. “Oh, hon, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but things will get better. Your brain is just trying to protect you.”
“F-from what?”
She drops to her knees on the tiled floor. “Well, you went through something traumatic, and your brain needs to heal from that. All of its energy is being used on that and not on memories. Eventually, it won’t need as much energy, and it’ll naturally revert back to normal.”
Her explanation is so simple, and it’s the first one that makes sense or gives me any hope that my circumstancesaretemporary.
“If it helps, that man out there clearly loves you,” Angie continues. “And there’s a waiting room full of people who refuse to leave because you’re here.”
I know that should make me feel better, and I suppose it does a little, but it also terrifies me. The thought of facing more people who I don’t know is not exactly something I’m looking forward to.
Rather than focus on the fear, I let my mind wrap around the idea that I’m clearly loved by others and am not alone in figuring out who I am and where I belong.
10
LYRIC
ONE WEEK LATER…
“I’m heading out.”
I turn around to see Zombie standing just outside the door to my quarters at the clubhouse. Mellie comes home from the hospital today, and he knows I’m pissed that she asked if he could pick her up instead of me. She’s gravitated toward him over the past week, and he’s made a point to taunt me about the fact that she remembers him. I know he doesn’t mean any harm, but I’m all kinds of fucked up since what should’ve been my wedding day.
“Sawbone still going?” I ask, referring to our club medic.
“Yeah, unless you order otherwise.”
I shake my head. “No. I want someone there that understands medical shit and what questions to ask.”
He stares at me for a moment before taking a deep breath. “You know you’re gonna have to cut the fucking attitude when she gets here.”
