Only Today Page 4

  Early in the evening as darkness settled outside Kendall’s window, Brady popped his head in the door. “Hey, Kendall!”

  Her heart fluttered at the sound of his voice. “Hey.” The single word sounded breathless. The sight of him brought a surge of joy and then embarrassment at her strong reaction. She hoped her warm cheeks weren’t glowing bright red like hot coals.

  ❧

  “It’s good to see you sitting up!” It was just good to see her any old way. He’d missed her today and was thrilled when an accident brought him here to her.

  “I didn’t expect to see you at all today.” She had a sheepish look about her. “I mean, I hoped.” Color rose into her face, and she ducked her chin.

  “It’s okay.” He lifted her chin until his eyes met hers. “I hoped, too.” Their gazes locked, and emotions shot through him like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Fighting the urge to kiss her, he placed a peck on the top of her head.

  Brady cleared his throat and settled into his chair. Unnerved by what had transpired, he took longer than usual to settle in. They’d both declared—with what little they’d said—that this was quickly becoming much more than either expected or was ready for. A week ago they hadn’t even known each other.

  Brady swallowed and aimed for a lighter tone. “Tell me about your day.” He glanced at his watch. “Mitch gave me thirty minutes. Said he’d dawdle down in the ER.”

  “Your mom came by—twice. The second time I was gone at rehab, but she left me this.” Kendall held up the Bible.

  “That’s my mom.” He grinned. “You already started rehab?”

  “Tomorrow.” Kendall filled him in briefly on what had transpired earlier in the day. “So help me get this straight. A physical therapist works with me on mobility and walking?”

  Brady nodded. “All general movement.”

  “And the occupational therapist is fine-motor skills?” She cocked her head to the right.

  “Yep, and the daily acts of living like dressing, eating, that sort of thing.”

  “What I don’t get is the speech therapist. I mean, I’m talking, and I sound fine to me. Do I sound fine to you?”

  You sound wonderful to me. “They do more than just speech, and I agree that yours sounds fine. But they also cover swallowing and cognitive skills. Not all types of therapy last the same length of time. You may only need the speech person for a few weeks, but you may need the PT for months.” Brady shrugged. “Time will tell.”

  “I’m moving tomorrow to the rehab center.”

  “You are?” The news pleased him. “You’re making good progress, then.”

  “And I met with a doctor from neuro regarding the amnesia.”

  “Neuro? You’re sounding like someone in the medical profession.”

  “Osmosis. You hang around here long enough, you catch the lingo.”

  He chuckled. Her spirits were high for someone in her predicament, and her wide smile was pretty, even set in her marred face. Somehow he knew that underneath all the bruises, cuts, and scrapes lurked a beautiful woman—inside and out.

  “Tell me what he said.”

  “My amnesia was caused by an injury to my brain during the accident, probably hitting the pavement with such force, even though I had on a helmet. He didn’t feel I’m disoriented or confused, but I’ve suffered profound memory loss. Unfortunately, there aren’t any lab tests or a list of conditions to prove or disprove amnesia. You’d think the fact that I don’t know who I am would be enough.” She shook her head in disbelief.

  Brady smiled.

  “He did inform me there is neuropsychological testing, and it, along with an MRI to scan the brain, can be helpful in determining the presence of amnesia.”

  “Is he questioning your amnesia?”

  “I asked the same thing. He just likes to verify all the facts before determining a diagnosis. At that point Lucille spoke up.”

  “Uh-oh, the guy’s in big trouble. I feel it coming.”

  Kendall laughed with Brady and did her best Lucille impersonation. “What do you mean—verify? The girl had a head trauma and has no memory. What’s to verify?”

  Brady laughed harder.

  “By her tone and expression, I knew she finished the sentence in her head with the final two words, you moron.”

  “So what did the good doctor say?”

  “The young whippersnapper raised his chin and, with as much dignity as he could muster, informed Lucille that he was just about to say those exact words, and given my situation, a diagnosis was inevitable without further testing. So I now officially have what’s called retrograde amnesia.”

  Brady nodded.

  Kendall grew somber. “It could take weeks, months, or years for recovery. Once the brain is damaged—it can be slow to heal.”

  “I know.” Brady had done some reading of his own.

  “Sometimes the amnesia never goes away.” A frightened look settled on Kendall’s face.

  “But it often does.” He reached for her hand. “Don’t lose hope this early in the game. Let’s aim for weeks. If weeks pass, then we’ll shoot for months.”

  “We?”

  “I told you, I’m in this for the long haul.”

  “I can’t ask that from you. You don’t even know me. What if I never remember? The doctor said the portion of my brain responsible for retrieving stored information has been compromised. There’s no money-back guarantee on this deal, Brady.”

  He rose and held her head against his chest to calm and comfort her. “I know that, Kendall. I’ve read the reports in the medical journals. But none of it matters to me. I’m here for as long as it takes. A line from a song says, ‘A lifetime’s not too long to live as friends.’ I’m your friend for life—memory or no memory. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m here.”

  Kendall raised her head. Tears glistened in her eyes. “I really appreciate you. It feels like you’re the only thing I have to count on in this whole wide scary world.”

  She laid her head back against his chest. He closed his eyes and held her close. Lord, help me to be the man she needs me to be.

  Brady’s pager vibrated. He removed one arm from Kendall and pulled it from his pocket. “My partner is ready, so I have to go.” Kissing the top of Kendall’s head, he shoved the pager back in his pocket.

  Her teary eyes made it all the harder to leave. “Hopefully I’ll be back tomorrow. If not, the next for sure.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

  Fighting the urge to kiss her lips, Brady turned quickly and left.

  “Sorry, Mitch,” he said when he reached the ER. “I lost track of time.”

  “How’s the patient?” Mitch asked on their way through the sliding doors and back to their ambulance.

  “She’s struggling. Can you imagine having no idea who you are?” Brady shook his head.

  “No, I sure can’t.” They climbed into their vehicle. “I’ve never understood how a person can forget everything about their personal existence, yet can remember how to function in daily life.”

  “From everything I read, it has to do with the location in the brain. The limbic system is responsible for memory retrieval. Often with amnesia, relational memory is impaired while procedural memory remains intact. So a person with amnesia can’t remember their own name but often can do all the procedures they’ve learned throughout life such as riding a bike, eating, and using a telephone.”

  “The brain is a complex piece of equipment, isn’t it? So what you’re saying—in a sense—is that different types of memories are stored in different file drawers. The top drawer may be jammed shut, making retrieval of the stored information impossible, but the other drawers still open and close fine, making their file folders fully accessible.”

  “You got it, my friend. And Kendall’s personal life, her relational life, is stuck in drawer number one.”

  “What if she’s married?”

  Brady avoided that line of thinki
ng. “There’s no reason to assume she is. Her finger is as bare as mine.”

  “Not everyone that’s married wears a ring.”

  “True, but don’t you think her husband would come looking for her?”

  “Unless he was the one who ran her down.”

  Four

  “You’ve been watching too many cop shows. But by now someone should be looking for her. Frankie ran her fingerprints, and there’s no match.”

  “Well then, she’s not a criminal, or at least one who’s been caught.”

  Brady rolled his eyes. They were back at the department. “You are so reassuring, buddy.” Brady climbed from the cab, and the conversation ended.

  The next afternoon, another emergency call took them back to St. Mary’s. He left Mitch to finish in the ER and headed to the rehab center. He found Kendall in her new room reading her Bible. At the sight of her, his heart danced a little jig.

  “Hey, you.”

  Her face lit up. “Brady.”

  “Love your new crib.”

  “Crib?” Her brows drew together.

  “Digs?” She still looked perplexed, so he tried again. “Pad?”

  She smiled. “You mean my room?”

  He nodded. “Maybe you hail from some small Iowan farm town or somewhere the ever-changing English language has yet to hit.”

  “Maybe.” She seemed more contemplative than usual.

  “How was your day?” He stood in the doorway of her small space, leaning against the jamb.

  “Grueling. Between Tom, Stan, and Brenda, I had hours of hard work. Your mom was here at lunch and helped me eat. She brought the flowers.” A vase of purple daisies graced her nightstand. “She’s very sweet and thoughtful. Makes me wonder what my mom is like.” Kendall shrugged. “Do I even have a mom?”

  “I’m sure you do—somewhere.”

  “In that small farm town in Iowa?” Her sense of humor always kicked in when she needed a light moment.

  “Brady, why isn’t anybody looking for me? Isn’t there a soul out there who cares where I am? Does anyone even know that I’m gone?”

  Brady sat on the edge of her bed. He’d been asking himself the same thing, but he needed to be positive for her sake. “It’s a little soon for people to wonder. Lives are busy, and people don’t keep in touch like they should. Any day now someone will try to call you, get worried, and contact the police. And voilà—you’ll be reconnected.”

  She smiled at him. “You, Brady Cooper, are an eternal optimist. I sure hope you’re right. You, my lifetime friend, are the silver lining in the very dark cloud that is my life right now.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. It was the first time she’d initiated affection. She lowered her chin and pulled her hand back, and Brady caught a glimpse of pink highlighting her face.

  “I’m in constant contact with my dad and brother regarding your case. They’re keeping a close eye on the missing person file, checking it several times a day. My dad has guys checking a list of no-shows at University of Nevada–Reno. Something will turn up.” His confident tone didn’t reflect his doubt. It just has to.

  “You’re right. Something will turn up sooner or later. Sometimes the fear of the unknown overwhelms me, and I quit thinking rationally. I’ll try to get a grip.”

  Brady glanced at his watch. “I need to get back to the ER in a couple of minutes. Anything else I can help you hash out while I’m here?”

  “Yes.” Her somber tone caught his attention. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Anything.”

  “Are you married?”

  “No. You?”

  She glanced at her finger. “I don’t have a ring or a line from one, so I’d say no.” She raised her gaze back to him. “Have you ever been married?”

  “Nope.”

  “I don’t feel like I have, either, but I don’t really know for sure. How about a girlfriend?”

  “Naw.”

  “Good thing. I don’t think she’d appreciate all the time you’re spending with me.”

  “Probably not. You applying for the position?” Her bruised and swollen face grew more beautiful to him each day, but especially when she blushed, which apparently happened often.

  Kendall lowered her chin. “No. I just want to know more about you. Knowing something about your life makes me feel better since I know nothing about my own.”

  Their gazes connected, and the rush of emotion he felt for her shocked him. He broke eye contact, glanced at his watch, and stood. “My time is up,” he apologized.

  “Thanks for coming. I can’t tell you how much your kindness—”

  Brady took her face in his hands. “I’m here because I want to be. It’s not kindness nor charity.” He placed a feather-soft kiss on her forehead.

  Brady paused on his way out the door. “And if you ever want to apply for that job—let me know.”

  He caught a glimpse of her face turning bright red again as he headed down the hall.

  ❧

  Heart pounding, face on fire, Kendall couldn’t help but smile. “In a split second, Brady Cooper. In a split second.” Something about him felt so right.

  One day ran into the next, and no one came looking for Kendall. Soon two weeks had passed, then three. Her hours were full of various types of therapy and daily visits from Mrs. C. Though her memory remained gone, her life felt full.

  Dear, faithful Brady kept her busy every free minute he had. Sometimes he read to her, some days they played games, and some evenings they watched television. Brady loved sports, and Kendall didn’t mind—as long as they were together. Truth be told, he’d grown to be much more than a friend, but she wasn’t sure he felt the same. They flirted some, he often kissed her forehead, and they hugged, but everything else was undeclared.

  Today was Sunday, and he promised her a surprise. So she sat dressed and waiting in her wheelchair, wearing an outfit his mother had brought in for her—a jean skirt with one flip-flop sandal on her uncasted foot. Since she had no personal belongings to speak of, she’d been wearing extra scrubs the nurse brought her, but last week Mrs. Cooper had purchased her several outfits. They were even cute. The sage sweater she wore today brought out the green flecks in her eyes, or so his mom said.

  Brady walked in decked out in khaki dress pants and a navy blue collared shirt. His presence nearly stole her breath away. He smiled, and her heart did a somersault.

  “You look beautiful.”

  Brady’s praise thrilled her. “Thank you.” The patient tech had helped her wash her hair and get ready for Brady. “No small feat with these.” She held up both of her casted arms.

  Brady released her brake and rolled her out into the hall.

  “So what’s my surprise?”

  “I’m springing you from the joint.” He’d affectionately dubbed the rehab center “the joint.”

  Excitement pulsed through her. “Really?”

  “Really.” He pushed her through the outer doors. A shiny dark gray SUV sat parked at the curb, and Brady rolled up to the back door on the passenger side. “This, madam, is our getaway car.”

  He clicked a remote and after a beep opened the door.

  Placing an arm behind her back and one under her knees, he lifted her from the wheelchair to the backseat so she could stretch out her leg across the seat. He handed her the seat belt, and she awkwardly stretched it around herself as she sat sideways. Then he loaded the wheelchair in the back and climbed into the front.

  “Nice ride.”

  “Thanks. I bought it last year.”

  “Do they know I’m leaving?” Kendall glanced back at the center as they pulled away.

  “Don’t worry; this isn’t a patient-napping. I signed you out.”

  “Where are we going? Church?”

  He glanced her direction, raising a brow. “How’d you know?”

  “Where else would a nice boy like you take a girl on a Sunday morning?”

  Brady laughed.

  Kendall watched
the buildings, searching for something familiar, but she felt like a tourist in a strange city. Not one thing jogged her memory. Brady took the on-ramp leading onto the freeway. From the backseat she had the freedom to study every nuance of his profile, and she enjoyed the view.

  “I still go to church with my family. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Actually, it will be fun to put faces to names and stories.” She wondered what he’d told them about her.

  Once in the wheelchair, he rolled her into the nonchurch-looking building. It was large, with rows of seats forming a semicircle around a stage. The back half of the room had risers.

  “Hope you’re not going to try to roll me up there,” Kendall joked.

  “Maybe one day, but not today.” He rolled her up to the edge of an aisle about halfway to the stage. Mrs. Cooper welcomed her with a hug and introduced her to her husband. Brady took the end seat, between his dad and next to Kendall’s wheelchair. As the service began, his other siblings filled the chairs down the row.

  Kendall lost herself in the music and preaching. The pastor spoke on God’s sovereignty, which couldn’t have been more apropos. Church was strangely familiar, and she knew some of the words to the songs. She concluded that she must attend church regularly.

  After the service, Brady introduced her to the rest of the crew. “This is Delanie and her husband, Eli. Frankie, his wife, Sunni, and their two munchkins, Mason and Summer. And my brother Cody.”

  Brady’s family was warm, welcoming, and talkative. After a few minutes, everyone dispersed, saying they’d see them in a while.

  “Are we going somewhere else?” she asked on their way back to the SUV.

  “Guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

  “Like I have a choice,” she reminded him with sass in her tone.

  He skillfully lifted her once again into his SUV. She stretched out the casted leg, but she turned her body so she almost faced the seat in front of her.

  “If you had a choice, where would you go today?” He pulled out her seat belt and handed it to her, their breath mingling. His eyes grew serious and a deeper shade of blue.