Page 3 of The Liar I Married
“You knew when we married my work would take up a good deal of my time. I wanted to succeed to give you the lifestyle you deserved.” He wipes a hand down his face. “That takes sacrifices and family time is one of them.”
I look at him, tears welling. “I needed you, John, and now I need answers and you refuse to give them to me. I thought you loved me?”
“You know I do. Look, this isn’t the time to argue, Jessie.” John holds a straw to my lips. “I give you everything you need. Most women would be grateful. You live like a queen because I work hard. What you’re saying is unfair.” He blows out a long sigh and lowers the glass. “I didn’t have time to just drop by, in case youmightwake up. I’ve been waiting for a miracle for almost a year; each time I come it’s a false alarm. It’s an hour’s drive from my work. I have important clients to see. Can you imagine how long I’d last at the firm if I kept canceling appointments? My reputation would be ruined.”
I manage to get to my elbows and glare at him. “Then when is the right time? I’ve been lying here, wondering if my children are alive, and you won’t give me a straight answer.” I meet his gaze. “That nurse won’t tell me anything.” I shake my head slowly. “All I know now is it wasn’t a dream. I hit a tree. I’m awake now, you can’t break me, John. I need to know what’s happening.” I grip his arm. “Please. I need to know about the girls.” Tears stream down my cheeks and I hiccup between sobs. “Please, John.”
“Not yet, Jessie. You need more time. We need to start back a ways and come forward slowly. That’s what the doctor advised; speaking about the car wreck can cause damage.” John sighs and untangles my arm. “Do you remember your grandmother’s death?” He looks away and runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair before returning his gaze. “You attended the reading of her will, here in the study.”
The question catches me off guard. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just answer the question, Jessie.” John’s eyes bore into me. “Do you remember?”
I close my eyes, trying to piece together the fragments of my memory. My grandmother’s funeral, the somber faces, the lawyer reading her will. “Yes, I remember bits and pieces. She left me the house.” I thought for a beat, trying hard to unravel the difference between memories and dreams. “I’m not clear on details. My head is fuzzy and things come back in pieces.”
“This is exactly why you need my help. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of you. It’s to be expected. You’ve been in a coma for twelve months.” John nods, his expression unreadable.
I don’t understand. “Twelve months? Are you sure?” I fall back into the pillow, closing my eyes. It can’t be true. I must be dreaming.
“Yes, and you need to focus on your recovery and I’ll get everything sorted.”
I open my eyes, meeting his gaze. “There’s nothing to sort out. What are you talking about?”
“Just trust me, Jessie.” He leans in, his voice low and urgent. “I’m sending a lawyer with some papers for you to sign, and they’ll explain everything.” He sighs and straightens. “I have a client at four. I need to go but I’ll be back tomorrow, if I can.”
Trust is the last thing I feel toward him. As he leaves the room, with not so much as a peck on the cheek, I’m left with more questions than answers. I hear whispers in the passageway outside my door. Why are they whispering if they have nothing to hide? Doubt gnaws at me, and I can’t shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong.
THREE
I’m awake early. Through the window I see the sun just rising above the horizon. Birds hop from branch to branch but I can’t for the life of me remember what they’re called. I close my eyes as the car wreck plays over and over in my mind like re-runs of an old movie. There’s something on the edge of my consciousness, something very important that I can’t grasp. It’s the whisper you can’t hear. The urgent warning I desperately need to know that’s just out of my reach. I stare at my hands, trying to recreate the accident. I remember gripping the steering wheel and not being able to move it. Had something happened to the steering? Or perhaps the engine had failed? I close my eyes and I’m there inside my SUV, racing along the road in the darkness. Where are we going? Who is in the car with me? My girls are in the back seat but is John there? He says he wasn’t but can I believe him? It’s as if my life is cloaked in shadows—who is hiding in the corners of my memories and can I trust them?
Last night, after a dinner of chicken soup, Dolly explained why the doctors had put me into an induced coma for almost a year. I lost it for a time, screaming out for my daughters and demanding to see them. Each time I think about them, my stomach drops. Are they dead? Did I kill them? Why won’tanyone tell me? Dolly just stared at me with her mouth in a tight thin line, saying nothing. I couldn’t stop sobbing, and she stuck another needle into my drip. I don’t recall anything after that. Lesson learned, I mustn’t get upset or ask questions or I’m silenced and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t do anything or call anyone to help me. I’m too weak to get out of bed just yet.
“Good morning, Mrs. Harper.” Dolly walks into the room carrying a tray which she places on the overbed table. “You’re having something a little more substantial this morning. Your husband mentioned that you enjoy scrambled eggs and toast. The housekeeper made these; I hope they’re to your liking. She will be in this morning to clean. Is there anything else you need?” She presses a button which raises me up to a sitting position and then slides the overbed table in front of me.
The meal looks delicious but I can’t eat. I just want answers to my questions. Everything I ask is ignored so I must find another way to get information. “I would really like a cup of coffee. I’m over drinking water and orange juice.” I lift my fork and taste the eggs. They are as good as they look. I smile at her. She stands by the bed, a pleasant expression on her face. Maybe she is a friend? “Have my parents been by or my brother?”
“No, but I’m sure they’ll be by when the doctor clears you for visitors.” Dolly adjusts my pillows. “Your husband is keeping everyone informed. You’ll be teeming with visitors before you know it. Although I do know your mother is in Florida, your father is fine, and your brother is overseas at the moment. I believe he is due back soon.”
So my parents are alive and well and Michael is off spending his inheritance in the south of France, no doubt. Interesting. I nod and continue eating. “She did talk about wanting to move to Florida. I hope she comes to see me soon.”
“You can’t rush things, Mrs. Harper.” Dolly studies my face and pats my shoulder in a friendly gesture. “The doctor insistsyou allow the memories to return naturally. You don’t need any sudden shocks or bad memories creeping in and upsetting you. I’m not saying you have bad memories, but we all have things we’d rather forget and it’s those things that cause the trouble.” She smiles and nods at me. “I know it’s unsettling but it’s for your own good.”
I raise my gaze to her before she leaves the room again. Maybe she has something interesting to chat about. “I guess I’ll just wait then. What do you find to do all day?”
“Caring for you is a full-time job. I monitor your vital signs, administer your medication, and bathe you.” Dolly gives me a long considering stare. “While you’ve been unconscious, I’ve given you physical therapy so that your legs will work when you decide to stand up. We’ll try that soon. Once I remove the catheter you’ll need to use the bathroom.” She sighs. “I live in a room along the passageway. I have a monitor there where I can watch you in my downtime. I’m in constant communication on FaceTime with your doctor. He requires a daily update and I need to keep a diary on my computer of everything that happens during the day and upload it to his server.”
I eat slowly, enjoying each mouthful. “It’s very boring in here alone. Can you organize a TV for me or a radio? Do you know what happened to my phone?”
“Unfortunately I can’t. We need to follow a certain protocol for someone that’s just woken from a coma. Seeing things on TV that might upset you could put you back weeks in your recovery. The world has changed considerably in the last twelve months but you really don’t need to worry about anything. Give it time and you will regain your memories.” Dolly’s mouth curls into a little smile. “I could get you some books from the library. The one here is extensive and I’ve been enjoying it immensely.”
Why can’t she ever give me a complete answer to anything I ask her? “Yes, I would like a book. A nice romance would begood, thank you. Can you tell me who else has been by to see me since I’ve been here?”
“Mrs. Harper and Amanda Blake came by to view the house.” She must have caught my astonished expression. “Do you remember your mother-in-law?”
View the house?I have absolutely no memory of my mother-in-law but I nod and sip my juice. There’s no need for Dolly to believe I have blanks in my memory and John’s mother just happens to be one of them. “I do indeed, we’re very close, but who is Amanda Blake?”
“The Realtor.” Dolly smiles. “Mrs. Harper mentioned wanting to get the house valued now you’re recovering, as you’d planned to sell it before the accident. Do you remember discussing the sale with your husband?”
