shared with me some of the scientific facts about amnesia that I didn’t know. Maybe he was just doing a PR number on me, but he was hopeful that it was just a matter of time before my memory would return—little by little or all at once. I’m scheduled for a complete checkup in the morning to rule out any physical causes.” She paused, not knowing how to apologize for her angry behavior toward him. “I’m indebted to you, Andrew. You were right to bring me here.”
“I’m just relieved that things are going so well.” Then he added impulsively, “But to tell the truth, I was wishing you were here so we could have anothersong fest.” He didn’t add that the ambiance of the whole house had changed in the three days she had spent with him. Everywhere he turned, in the kitchen, on the patio, and in his bedroom, there was a lingering aura of her presence.
“Maybe it’s better I left when I did,” she said quietly.
“Trish.” He knew what she was thinking. “I want to apologize for this afternoon. I really can’t explain what happened—”
“You kissed me. Let’s let it go at that. No need to make an issue out of it.” She wasn’t about to invite any expression of regret on his part. If she hadn’t been so needy, he wouldn’t have been drawn into the unexpected intimacy. How could she blame him for responding when she practically threw herself into his arms, and invited his kisses. She was totally embarrassed by what had happened, and was determined that it wasn’t going to alienate his friendship.
Her curt rejection of his apology was reassuring in a way. Of course, she was right not to give an impulsive kiss any importance. The sooner forgotten the better, he told himself, but he’d never experienced such a surge of desire before. Forgetting it might not be as easy as he hoped.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow evening, after work. Maybe we can have dinner together if they have a guest dining room.”
“I’d like that,” she assured him, and an instant quickening of anticipation flowed through her. “Heaven knows what the food will taste like, but I guess we can take our chances. And you could bring your guitar and play me another tune.”
“And you could sing—”
“And we could put out a hat for a collection.”
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, laughing. “We’ll split the earnings fifty-fifty.”
She was smiling when she hung up, and gathered his old robe closer around her. Andrew had wanted to buy her some new night clothes, but she had insisted on bringing his sweatshirt and robe. They were the only things in her frightening situation that had any familiarity attached to them. Even though she knew that it wasn’t wise to make him her whole world, she felt warm and comforted wearing his things.
S HE HAD LITTLE TIME the next day to think about anything but getting through myriad examinations and tests. Every inch of her body was scanned, poked and charted. She held up pretty well under the intense physical scrutiny, and wasn’t surprised when Dr. Duboise gave her the results.
“We didn’t find any injury to your head. The tenderness you told us about must have only been a bruise. There’s no sign of any concussion.”
“So what does that mean?”
“We’re not dealing with any physical damage that has resulted in a loss of memory. A blow to the head might have triggered the amnesia, but, in your case, is not the cause of it.”
“Is that good?”
He smiled and nodded. “Your brain is in A-one condition. Your loss of memory is most likely due to a desire to dissociate from a particularly intolerable situation.”
Intolerable situation.
“I can’t remember because I don’t want to?”
“That’s about it. This kind of amnesia can causepersonal memories, like your identity, to be temporary lost, while cognitive skills like language and learned behavior remain intact.”
He talked for a few minutes about the different locations in the brain for various
“I’m just relieved that things are going so well.” Then he added impulsively, “But to tell the truth, I was wishing you were here so we could have anothersong fest.” He didn’t add that the ambiance of the whole house had changed in the three days she had spent with him. Everywhere he turned, in the kitchen, on the patio, and in his bedroom, there was a lingering aura of her presence.
“Maybe it’s better I left when I did,” she said quietly.
“Trish.” He knew what she was thinking. “I want to apologize for this afternoon. I really can’t explain what happened—”
“You kissed me. Let’s let it go at that. No need to make an issue out of it.” She wasn’t about to invite any expression of regret on his part. If she hadn’t been so needy, he wouldn’t have been drawn into the unexpected intimacy. How could she blame him for responding when she practically threw herself into his arms, and invited his kisses. She was totally embarrassed by what had happened, and was determined that it wasn’t going to alienate his friendship.
Her curt rejection of his apology was reassuring in a way. Of course, she was right not to give an impulsive kiss any importance. The sooner forgotten the better, he told himself, but he’d never experienced such a surge of desire before. Forgetting it might not be as easy as he hoped.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow evening, after work. Maybe we can have dinner together if they have a guest dining room.”
“I’d like that,” she assured him, and an instant quickening of anticipation flowed through her. “Heaven knows what the food will taste like, but I guess we can take our chances. And you could bring your guitar and play me another tune.”
“And you could sing—”
“And we could put out a hat for a collection.”
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, laughing. “We’ll split the earnings fifty-fifty.”
She was smiling when she hung up, and gathered his old robe closer around her. Andrew had wanted to buy her some new night clothes, but she had insisted on bringing his sweatshirt and robe. They were the only things in her frightening situation that had any familiarity attached to them. Even though she knew that it wasn’t wise to make him her whole world, she felt warm and comforted wearing his things.
S HE HAD LITTLE TIME the next day to think about anything but getting through myriad examinations and tests. Every inch of her body was scanned, poked and charted. She held up pretty well under the intense physical scrutiny, and wasn’t surprised when Dr. Duboise gave her the results.
“We didn’t find any injury to your head. The tenderness you told us about must have only been a bruise. There’s no sign of any concussion.”
“So what does that mean?”
“We’re not dealing with any physical damage that has resulted in a loss of memory. A blow to the head might have triggered the amnesia, but, in your case, is not the cause of it.”
“Is that good?”
He smiled and nodded. “Your brain is in A-one condition. Your loss of memory is most likely due to a desire to dissociate from a particularly intolerable situation.”
Intolerable situation.
“I can’t remember because I don’t want to?”
“That’s about it. This kind of amnesia can causepersonal memories, like your identity, to be temporary lost, while cognitive skills like language and learned behavior remain intact.”
He talked for a few minutes about the different locations in the brain for various
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