Read Memory's Edge: Part One for Free Online Page B

bangs
falling across her face. He wanted to push it back behind her ear, but his
closest hand was still holding hers, and the other was wrapped in a plaster
cast and was more likely to hit her than manage anything requiring that much
finesse. Gretchen’s nose twitched as the strand of hair tickled her, drawing a
smile from John as he watched.
    In that
moment, watching Gretchen sleep, he couldn’t feel the pain of what he had lost.
He wanted to stay right there, because he knew once that moment ended, the pain
and fear would come flooding back in. He wasn't ready to face it yet. What he
wanted didn’t matter for much, unfortunately.
    The
whisper-quiet opening of the door to his room sent a wave of sadness through
him. Looking up at the door, John watched silently as a graying woman in scrubs
bustled in with a pair of Styrofoam takeout boxes and a canvas bag slung over
her shoulder. Glancing at Gretchen, she smiled and quietly set her things down
on the bedside tray. One at a time she opened the boxes, letting the smells of
fresh fruit and bakery muffins fill the room.
    Stirring
from her sleep, Gretchen opened her eyes and yawned.
    “Good
morning, dear,” the woman said, “I'm Dr. Anita Sanchez.” Gesturing at the food,
she said, “I thought you both might be hungry. Lynn said you didn’t get any
dinner last night, Gretchen. Please eat up. I brought enough for both of you.”
    Full of
warm smiles and soothing tones, Dr. Sanchez was a welcome change from Dr.
Marshall, who had made another appearance before John fell asleep, and was no
more pleasant than before. Dr. Sanchez settled herself in the chair next to
John’s bed and waited for them to eat. John hesitated, not wanting to gorge
himself in front of her when she had a reason for being there, aside from
bringing them breakfast. He was surprisingly hungry, though.
    “Your
feeding tube was removed last night, so you should be plenty hungry by now,”
Dr. Sanchez began. “We’ll start off with some nice soft foods and see how you
do with those before letting you move up to steak and potatoes.” John and
Gretchen still waited. “Please,” she said, “eat. I won’t move on with my visit
until you do.”
    Gretchen
and John looked at each other. Then Gretchen shrugged and grabbed a cranberry
muffin, taking a bite of it with a satisfied smile. He didn’t have to be told
again. The muffins and fruit were gone within minutes. Dr. Sanchez smiled and
neatly cleared the boxes away when they finished.
    “Are you
the neurologist?” John asked when Dr. Sanchez sat back down.
    “Yes, I
am,” she said.
    He took a
deep breath and squared his shoulders. Gretchen looked as though she were
holding her breath. She was clearly anxious to hear what this doctor had to say
about him. The emptiness faded by the smallest degree. What would John do if
she walked away, feeling her duty to watch over him had been fulfilled? He
didn’t want to think about that possibility, so he didn’t. Focusing on Dr.
Sanchez let him push all his other thoughts away.
    “Now, I
suppose you probably have a few questions,” Dr. Sanchez said.
    Gretchen
and John both nodded.
    “Well, I’m
here to answer them,” she said. “I looked at your MRIs last night. Because of
the injuries you sustained to your brain, your memory has been impaired. The
MRI taken when you were first admitted showed severe swelling and bruising to
your brain. Both of those showed improvement in the MRI done last night. That
is a very good sign.
    “Dr.
Marshall said you are unable to remember anything before the accident, but he
did not indicate whether or not you are able to retain new memories. Have you
had any trouble remembering events since waking up?”
    “No,” John
said, “I seem to be able to remember everything that’s happened since waking up
just fine.”
    “Wonderful.”
She made a note in her file before looking back up at John with her
grandmotherly smile. “I’m going to show you a few objects, now, and