The Husband She Couldn't Forget

And she gritted her teeth and jumped before he could catch her toes.

“We’ll work on it,” she told him. “You did great.”

“Almost perfect. Horace would say I got too cocky trying to impress you.”

“Impress me? Why?” Her smile faded a little.

“You’re my new therapist and who wouldn’t want to impress the person who holds their future in the center of their hands?”

“In the palm of my hands.”

He took her hand and drew a circle in the center. “Right, and that’s a lot of responsibility to place right there. Besides, you’re beautiful and when I see you, I get a fluttering feeling in my stomach.”

“Oh, Rolland.” She drew her hand back and her smile disappeared.

“It’s not like when they gave me the medicine that made me throw up, Melanie. Now you look ill.”

“No.” She reached for him and her hand stopped midair. Then she touched him anyway. “I’m not ill. It’s just—well. Do you understand about relationships? Man and woman relationships?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. I didn’t forget everything. I see how these women look at me. I’m scared of’em.”

She nearly laughed, but smothered it behind pursed lips. “Right. Why?”

“They whisper when I walk by, but I can still hear. Once I got my new face, well, I was the cat’s meow.”

Melanie burst out laughing and tried to hide behind her hand. “Who told you that?”

“The optometrist who worked on my eye after my facial bones healed. I had been developing cataracts, so I had Lasik surgery to fix everything.”

“No.” She looked horrified, but remembered reading this in his file.

“Dr. Hoover said I was the cat’s meow.”

“Okay, don’t you say that again.”

“Why?”

“Men don’t say that about themselves.”

“What do they say?”

“Nothing.”

“Women say they’re hot, cute, sexy, and men can’t say anything?”

Melanie looked lost. The sidewalk lights flickered on and he could fully see her face. “I’m not a guy. I don’t know what they say.”

“But it’s not the cat’s—”

“Don’t keep saying it.” Her hand was on his arm in a strong grip, her lips threatening to smile again.

“Melanie, I get a lot of attention and I’ve never been attracted to anyone. Not a doctor, nurse, aide, therapist or driver, and I think that covers just about everyone—until I met you. You’re very pretty and not just in that you-put-on-makeup way, but I like you. More than Purdy, but not more than Horace.”

She looked so serious for a moment and then she burst out laughing. “Not more than Horace? Okay, that’s fair. You’ve known him longer. Okay, but this is the deal, Rolland—”

“I like when you say my name. It sounds as if you really mean to get my attention.”

“I do. I need for you to hear this. We have to maintain a businesslike relationship.”

“Sit down, Melanie.”

He sat on the grass while she continued to stand. Her legs were at his eye level and he got a good view of her legs.

“Your legs are smooth.”

She quickly sat beside him.

“I understand that you can’t like me in a romantic way. We have to maintain a professional distance. But I can’t be honest some of the time, Melanie. See, you missed it.”

She looked up as a streak faded in the sky. “What did I miss?”

“The fireworks. There’s a company that sets them off every Monday even though the big shots at Ryder get angry.”

Melanie finally looked at him and she wasn’t angry anymore. “Why do they get angry?”

“Because they feel as if it’s distracting to those of us with brain injuries, but we disagree. Look behind you.”

Melanie turned around and then looked at Rolland. “Everybody is outside.”

“It’s kind of special. If you watch long enough you can tell what they’re practicing for. Fourth of July, New Year’s. Sometimes people even have them for weddings.”

The words Happy Birthda glittered into the sky and everyone laughed because the Y was missing.

“I’ve never known this to go on,” Melanie said, watching for the next fireworks. Suddenly a pink Y sizzled in the navy blue sky, and the audience applauded.

“You probably leave on time. Why are you here so late today?”

“Because I wanted to make sure that I talked to you. Now that we’ve talked, I’m going to head home.”

She stood up and people started making catcalls at her until she ducked down onto the ground. “It’s a tough crowd,” he told her. “This is entertainment, but you get to drive.”

Melanie laughed and took out a small notepad. “I’ll make a note in your chart that you want to learn how to drive.”

“And I want to be your friend.”

“Rolland—”

“Melanie, I’ve been here for over three months and nobody has looked for me. My fingerprints were taken in Vegas where the accident happened and nothing. They were sent across the country and nothing. Horace said I was born to wolves, but that’s not true.”

“No, it isn’t. He shouldn’t tell you that.”

“He’s just kidding. If he didn’t get me to laugh, he’d have a crying man on his hands and that wouldn’t have been any fun either. You know what, Melanie? I must not have been a nice person. How big of an ass do you have to be for nobody to care for you or even ask about you?”

“Maybe they didn’t know where to look,” she offered, her gaze on the ground. When she looked at him her eyes seemed to be filled with tears.

“Don’t spend any tears on me.”

“Okay.”

“My prints came back negative. My wallet and briefcase burned in the fire. That’s why I’m Rolland Jones. I got this flutter in my stomach for you, but I’ve had a busted face and knee that hurt and a whole lot of really painful injuries. I need friends. I’ll get over this flutter like I’ve gotten over everything else. Be my friend, Melanie.”

“Okay, Rolland. Let’s be friends.”

He stuck out his hand and she shook it and by damn if his whole body didn’t tingle.

Chapter Four

“Melanie, not feeling well?”

She passed two of her colleagues on the way into the building and reached for the door. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“All right, then.”

She saw the curious glances but ignored them. So what if she was dressed a little differently? She had to make a point.

Walking into her office, she stowed her briefcase under her desk and sat down. She had just a few minutes to get a cup of coffee before Rolland arrived for his session. She’d spent the greater part of the evening thinking of how to discourage any further advancement of his crush, but the truth of the matter was that when she’d shaken his hand last night, something had happened.

It was as if a fizzler had been placed beneath her skin and ignited because she’d spent the rest of the evening massaging her arm to rid it of the stimulation.

How had that happened?

She had to remember he was her patient. Blowing out a disgusted breath, she grabbed her cup and went to the break room where she met more curious stares. Two therapists finished their coffee and walked out and she was left alone with the one woman she liked the least.

“Why are you dressed like you belong on the prairie?”

The department’s administrative assistant Cali loved to attract attention and she did it by wearing as little as possible. She walked over to the coffeemaker, stuck her cup in front of Melanie’s and brewed a cup of cappuccino.

“Thank you for noticing my pretty dress. I like it, too,” Melanie said.

She handed Cali her cup and the younger woman smiled sweetly. “Don’t try to use that reverse psychology on me. I’m too smart for that. That’s an ugly dress and you know it. If you don’t, you do now. And good luck at the patient softball picnic in that awful thing.”

The younger woman was almost out the door. “Cali, don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. If you value your job, you’ll remember your position and you’ll remember mine, too.”

All pretense was gone, replaced by a look of hate on Cali’s face. “You think you can come in here and just replace my best friend. Well, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you don’t last in your position.”

“I’m glad I know where you stand.”

“Don’t get comfortable.” With a twist of her blond head, she walked out, her hip bumping the door, making it hit the wall. For all her theatrics, she nearly ran into Rolland who was oblivious to her drama.

“Hey, Cali.”

“Oh, hi.”

He stuck his head in the break room. “It’s ten o’clock and I believe we have a date with a compass.”

Melanie emptied her cup into the sink and rinsed it as she took several deep cleansing breaths. “You’re right we do.”

“You do know it’s going to be ninety degrees today.” He eyed her dress skeptically.

Melanie sighed, having not taken that into consideration when looking at clothes to completely cover her body. “I can handle it.”

“All right. But you look like you belong on that TV show.”

“Little House on the Prairie?” she asked, getting her sunglasses out of her desk and heading toward the door.

“No. What Not to Wear.”

“That’s not funny at all, Rolland.”

Rolland laughed aloud as they kept walking through the woods, birds flapping overhead, disturbed at his apparent glee. He’d made another joke about how old-fashioned her dress was.

“I’m sorry, Melanie.”

How could she stay mad at him when he looked so handsome and so contrite at the same time? He was cool in his khaki shorts and blue golf shirt.

“Do you accept my apology?”

She’d folded her arms and had stopped walking, but she smacked his outstretched hand. “Of course I do. I never hold a grudge. Come on. Where are we?”

“I don’t know.”

“Rolland, you can’t say you don’t know. Look at your compass.”

“Melanie, I don’t know where you got these compasses from, possibly the same place you got your dress, but it says south.”

Despite herself, she giggled and pretended to punch him in the arm. She pulled the collar away from her throat and wouldn’t admit the dress was a bad choice. Or that the lace was scratching her neck so bad she thought she was about to be beheaded. Or that she wished she had worn shorts like Rolland. And that his legs looked good, despite the neatly sewn scars.

It had been her idea to take the trail into the woods, “get lost” and find their way out. They were still on Ryder property, but she wanted him to find his way back to the campus.

“Stop cracking on my dress. I happen to like it. A friend gave it to me.”

“You should give it back.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s not you. You’re short, so why buy a short woman a long dress unless you don’t know anything about women.”

“What do you know about them?”

He stopped in the middle of the path, put his hands on his hips and struck the pose of the Greek God Zeus. “I’ve made love to beautiful women, Melanie. You’re a beautiful woman and whoever gave you that dress wasn’t thinking of you as a woman.”

Her throat closed and she had to open her mouth and take a deep breath. “How do you believe they were thinking of me?”

“As an object.”

A squirrel rustled the leaves and branches behind her and she jumped.

Rolland took her hand and urged her on. “You have a nice figure. Why cover it up?”

“I have a professional job and I have to dress a certain way.”

“You’re not Cali. You’re not making a statement with your clothes, but you will be if you start wearing that to work all the time. It’s like a blanket.”

“Who are you?” she murmured, then shook her head, hearing herself. “Let me see that compass. The object of the compass is to let it do its job. It will locate the sun. Where is the center? Do you remember?”

“North, northwest.”

“Okay, then we want to figure out where we are.” She paused and fanned herself. “It’s supposed to be fall. Where are the cool temperatures?”

“You do listen to the weather, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Then you know we’re having an Indian summer.”

She hadn’t known that. “Study the compass, Rolland.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

There was a bridge ahead that crossed a small creek. “Do you like to cook?”

“Yeah.”

“When was the last time you cooked some food?”

“Uh, I don’t know. But if I could cook something today, I’d make sirloin steak, grilled asparagus, fresh baked apple pie over a bed of rice and red wine.”

“That sounds delicious. Are you sure you’d put the pie over the rice?”

“Yeah, definitely. Do you like asparagus?”

“Sometimes. Do you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had them.”

“Rolland, where did you get the menu if you’ve never had the food?”

“TV. When I was recuperating I watched all those chef shows where the head chef would yell at the other chefs.”

“That’s terrible.” She headed across the bridge and liked the sound of the brook beneath.

“You become sadistic when your bones take six weeks to heal. I got crazy for a while—I’d yell, ‘burn the chef.’ I didn’t say I was a nice person, Melanie.”

She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “You’re right, you didn’t. I suppose I can’t hold it against you given your state.”

He spun around and walked backward and she watched him. “I have another great menu.” The delight in his eyes was captivating.

“Okay, tell me.”

“I’d make veal amandine.”

“What side dishes?”

“Vanilla ice cream, sweet potatoes and corn.”

“You’re just trying to make me laugh and it’s not going to work.”

“If you bake the corn with the sweet potatoes, it’s really good. Somebody needs to watch more TV.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you. I’ve never had it. Is it really good?”

“I don’t know. I’m just messing with you.”

“Rolland, you’re a mess.”

He looked down at his shirt again.

“Not really. Come on. Let’s look at these flowers. Do you know what a rose smells like?”

“A rose.”

“Okay, smarty-pants, but what does it smell like?”

“A plant.”

“You know there’s a difference between flowers and plants.” She walked him over to a bush and pulled one down. She smelled it and offered it to him.

“I like watching you, Melanie. You look like you’re enjoying it.”

“Now you try.”

He smelled the flower and then took his time working the pink blossom from the branch.

“What does it smell like?”

“Fresh air.”

“Think about it. Does it smell sweet or fruity?”

“I can’t tell.”

“Try again, Rolland. And this time, really focus.”

“Should I smell the flower just like you?”

“Yes. Now focus.”

He closed his eyes and inhaled. His chest rose and his Adam’s apple moved up and down as if he were eating something. Slowly his eyes opened and when their gazes met, there was sunlight in his eyes.

“What does it smell like?”

“It smells sweet.”

“Rolland, that was very good.”

They walked on and she chose daffodils and hydrangeas, petunias and more roses, until Rolland found a tree and sat down underneath its shade.

“Can you spread out your blanket so we can rest?” He pointed at her dress.

“Okay, I’ve heard enough about the dress. It will never see the light of day again.”

“Good. And I’m getting a headache from smelling all your flowers.” He sat down with his back against the trunk. Although he always had a smile on his face, he looked tired, more tired than she’d ever seen him. She wanted to stroke the back of his neck and rub his shoulders, but that wouldn’t have been appropriate. That didn’t stop her from soothing him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overload your senses. We can head back.” She fanned him with her hand and gauged the distance back to the dorm.

“Melanie?”

“Yes?”

Kneeling beside him, she put her hand on his forehead and saw the marks on her finger from the absent ring. The reminders of her past life. “How about if I call for a ride for you? They can have a golf cart over here in ten minutes.”

Rolland held her until she was still. “Besides liking that you’re blocking the sun, I would really like to kiss you.”

His lips greeted hers in a kiss that defined perfection in its simplicity. There was a knowing about the way his mouth moved over hers, an assuredness in how his head tilted and hers dropped to the side and back to accept his mouth and tongue that made her realize this wouldn’t be the last time. That thought brought reality screeching back.

She planted both her hands against his chest and moved herself away.

“Melanie?”

“Wait. I need a minute.” All of her senses began to work again and she heard birds caw. Squirrels hustled about their business, and a deer ran past heading east.

Rolland got closer and even though she didn’t want to, she had to stop him.

“Rolland, I could lose my job. You can’t do that again. I have to think about the ethical implications of kissing you. You’re a patient at this center and I could be held responsible for anything that happens to you.”

“I kissed you. I’m responsible for my actions.”

“But Rolland, I kissed you back. Therefore I’m responsible, too.”