I hang out at the nurse’s station and keep my ears pricked for drama as the family says their goodbyes.It’s been my experience that death invites nastiness amongst most families at some point, and Mr. Forrester is dying a relatively wealthy man. But for now, all is calm, so I study my untouched lunch, then I glance toward the room three doors down from the one in mourning. From overflowing to… all but empty. From swelling grief to… silence. One patient has more family than he can fit in to a single room, while the other has nothing.
No one.
And still, no recollection of who the hell she is.
“Dammit.” Jane bites out a frustrated grunt, slamming something onto her bedside table, the squeak and groan of her bed railings following right after. “Why won’t you just…” She huffs. But when that huff turns to a whimper, I collect my lunch and cross the hall, striding through her door tofind her sitting cross-legged on her bed, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Hey. You okay?”
She startles and jumps, her eyes flaring wide and her back slamming to the railing as she skitters in retreat. Her whimper turns to a cry of distress, and that distress swings back around to sad acceptance and a hiccupped breath when she realizesit’s just Ollie. “Jesus. Can you not knock or something?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I slow my steps and carefully set my things on her rolling table. My juice box. My jelly cup.Francine takes good care of me. Emptying my hands, I brush them together and bend until I can search Jane’s teary brown eyes. “What’s up?”
She scoffs, viciously snatching a tissue from the box. “Seriously?”
I shrug. “I’m not Doctor Darling right now. I’m just a dude who has a sweet hookup with the lunch cart lady and a sick obsession with jelly cups.” And yet, I discreetly peek across at her monitor to check her stats. “If IwasDoctor Darling right now, I might ask if you have a nasty headache. Or if you needed to talk about something medical. But since I’m not…” I peel a sandwich packet open—I have two—and pull out a cheese and ham on rye triangle. “I’m gonna eat and chill.” I take a noisy bite and earn a glare from the woman who, I can tell, doesn’t much appreciate people who eat audibly. “So what’s got you upset?”
“I’m not upset.” She tugs her blankets higher, covering her legs and unhappily dropping her hands to her lap. “The bed rail doesn’t work properly. I was trying to get up and grab the television remote, but I couldn’t get the stupid rail down, and if I climb over the top, I’ll probably fall and crack my head open.”
“Right… interesting…” I take another bite and smile around chewed food. She’s lying. It’s so insanely obvious, so I snag the remote from the end of her bed and lower into her visitor chair. And since I’ve done this a million times over the years, I kick my foot up and release the latch, so with a smoothwhoosh, the rail falls and swings on its hinges, each vibration rolling through the frame and up to torment the woman with a pounding headache. “All fixed.”
I point the remote at the TV and flip it on. The Bold and The Beautiful. Ellen repeats. Doctor Oz.Absolutely not. I stop on a game show, then, smiling at the woman flirting with an emotional crisis, I settle back and set my feet on the very end corner of her bed. “Wanna talk about it yet?”
“It’s been days!” she explodes. “Andyou said if I slept, my memory would come back. But?—”
“It’s been a weekend, not an eternity. And you shouldn’t discount thesleep. You might not have your memories back yet, but you found your bad temper.”
She glares, fiery and mean and just cranky enough to make me smirk.
“It’sonlybeen three days,” I repeat, gentler this time. “You went through something extremely traumatic, smacked your head really friggin’ hard, and you’ve been in a heightened state of emotional distress ever since you woke. This place scares you. People scare you. Sleep scares you. It’s okay that things are taking time.”
“I don’t know my name,” she whines. “I don’t know who I am or how I got here. I don’t know the face I see in the mirror or the voice I hear when I speak. I don’t know where I’m supposed to be or who is looking for me. I probably have a job, right? I haven’t turned up for three days. And what if I have a cat? I bet it’s hungry! The police didn’t find me in their computers?—”
“Means you’re a good, upstanding citizen,” I counter. “No criminal record. Not even a wanted poster because you stole a candy bar from the local corner store.”
She tries so hard to stay focused. To stay mad. But curiosity wins out, and her posture loosens. “What?”
“It was me. I stole candy and got my face printed on a wanted poster.” Smug, I take another bite and yearn for my dessert. “If you have a cat and a job, then you have people who already noticed you’re gone. Billy and Ramone are doing their part, scouring missing persons reports, and the people on the other end, the ones looking for you, are doing their part, too. Eventually, everyone will end up in the same room, which means folks’ll be crying and snotting and babbling all over you. Which you’ll hate… probably.”
She hunches forward, glowering and pouty. “I don’t think I want a room full people. That doesn’t sound fun.”
Called it.
“It takes onlyoneperson. Your person.” I toss the last of the sandwich into my mouth and snag my juice box, peeling the straw off the side. “Your person is gonna come looking for you. We just have to be patient.”
“And in the meantime?” Scowling, she fists her blanket and fusses with a loose thread. “When you’re doing nothing, or eating your lunch, or going to the bathroom, I bet you still get to think about what you’re planning to do after your shift ends. Or thinking about your sisters. Or your other patients. Even when you’re resting, your brain is notblank. But mine is.” She draws a shaky, shuddering breath, her shoulders moving with the inhale. “I don’t know if I have sisters. Or if I was supposed to attend a really important meeting today. Or maybe I left the stove on, and now myhouse is burning down. You sit there, and your life still exists. I sit here and it’s just…” She groans. “The waiting is horrible.”
I lower my feet and push up to stand, then, snagging the rolling tray table, I butt it up against the bed and position it so the ugly laminate-fake-wood top stops near her elbow. “I agree. The waiting sucks. So…” I gesture toward the second half of my ham and cheese sandwich. And then to the entirety of an egg salad sandwich. “Pick one.”
Lines wrinkle her forehead as she puzzles out my request. Then she brings her beautiful, doe-like eyes up to mine. “What?”
“We don’t know what we don’t know. Your name, your job, your crispy kitty back home…” I offer her a gentle smile. “In time, you’ll get all that back. But we can’t rush it, and there isn’t a damn thing we can do to cheat the process or skip ahead a few steps. The woman you were and the life you lived before three nights ago… she still exists. That life still exists. But you’rethiswoman now, too. You’re Jane Doe, even if you don’t like that name, and she currently owns nothing but a hospital gown and half a sandwich. When this is all over, both versions of you will exist, and eventually, you’ll have to find a way to make themco-exist.”
“So you’re offering me a half-eaten sandwich?”
“I’m offering you a chance to find out who Jane Doe is. Does she prefer ham and cheese, or egg salad?”And I’m laying down a challenge, dammit, because you’re still too fucking skinny.I peel both packages open and hold her soulful stare. “I’m the guy who saves the best for last. Always. That jelly cup?” I tap the foil lid, sealing in a magical, delicious raspberry heaven. “It’s the highlight of my day. It’s the icing on my lunch cake. I’m a hungry man, so Francine drops me extra every day, but I prefer jelly over egg salad, and I prefer egg salad over ham and cheese. So…” Pulling my coat up, I sit on the edge of her bed and nudge my offerings forward. “What doesthisperson right in front of me like? Egg salad, or ham and cheese?”
She sniffles and swipes beneath her nose, frowning until a deep line digs between her brows and tugs on the grazing along her temple and cheek. Her hands shake, and her teeth come out to abuse her lower lip. But she takes the ham and cheese half, carefully pulling the sandwich from the plastic packaging, and then she nibbles on the very corner.
