A Thanksgiving To Remember. Margaret Watson
grabbed Tom’s chart and glanced at it. “About the same, it looks like.”
“Is he still unconscious?”
“As far as I know.”
Tina nodded. “I think I’ll look in on him, as long as I’m here.”
Tina hurried away from the desk and stepped into Tom’s room. It was much brighter in the light of day, and the sunlight slanted off his face, making his beard look dark and heavy. It didn’t look like he’d moved since she had left a few hours before.
She stood watching him for a moment, then sat down in the chair that still stood next to his bed. “Hi, Tom,” she said in a low voice, as she watched him. “I just stopped by to see how you were doing before I reported in to work.”
As she spoke to him, she thought she saw him stir. She paused for a moment, then spoke again, in the same low voice. “Are you getting ready to wake up? It’s all right. You’re safe now, and there are a lot of people here to help take care of you.”
This time he definitely moved, and Tina’s hands tightened on the bed rail. She saw his throat muscles ripple as he swallowed once, then his eyes fluttered open.
Her first thought was that he had beautiful eyes. They were light brown, the color of well-aged whiskey. When she realized what she was thinking, she shook her head. What was the matter with her?
She leaned toward the bed. “Hello, Tom,” she said in a low voice. “How do you feel?”
He looked up at her, a puzzled look on his face. “Who are you? Where am I? What’s going on?”
It wasn’t unusual for accident victims not to recall their accident once they recovered consciousness. “You had a car accident last night, just outside Grand Springs city limits. You’re at Vanderbilt Memorial Hospital, and you’re going to be fine.” She smiled down at him and lightly touched his hand. “The doctor can tell you exactly what’s wrong with you, but you have a cut on your head that we sutured, and you had a concussion. Hold on a minute, I want to get the doctor.”
She hurried out of the room and down to the desk. “Sue, Tom Flynt just woke up. Will you call the doctor? I’ll go back and stay with him.”
Without waiting for an answer, Tina hurried back to the hospital room. Tom Flynt was trying to sit up, and Tina eased him back onto the bed. “Why don’t you wait until the doctor gets here before you try to get up? He’s going to want to take a good look at you, Mr. Flynt.”
He stared at her, and she saw the confusion in his eyes, and the growing fear. “I don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice harsh and scratchy. “What car accident? What’s Grand Springs? And who is Tom Flynt?”
Chapter 2
Without pausing to think, Tina took his hand again. This time, his fingers curled around hers, holding on with an intensity that almost hurt.
“You’re Tom Flynt,” she said gently. “That’s your name.”
He frowned up at her. “That doesn’t sound familiar.”
“You had a car accident. Do you remember anything about that?”
She watched him thinking, then he began to shake his head. He stopped immediately, pain creasing his face. “No. I don’t remember anything about a car accident.”
“That’s not unusual. The mind often blocks out traumatic memories. Many people who have been in an accident can’t remember what happened.”
“What did you say my name was?”
“Tom Flynt.” She waited to see if there was any recognition in his eyes. There wasn’t.
“What was the name of the town?” he asked.
“Grand Springs. In Colorado,” she added.
She saw the fear creeping into his eyes. “Do I live here?”
“I have no idea, Mr. Flynt. The police haven’t told me.”
“Police?” The tone of his voice changed, became more urgent. “Why are the police involved?”
“Because of the car accident,” she said patiently. “They’re investigating it.”
She saw him frown again, as if he were trying to concentrate. “There’s something I need to remember.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Flynt,” she said. “Your memories will probably come back very soon.” She heard a noise at the door, and turned to see Dr. Steve Wilson standing there.
“Good morning, Dr. Wilson.”
“Hi, Tina.” The doctor gave her a quick smile, then looked past her to the patient on the bed. “I understand that Mr. Flynt has woken up.”
Tina reluctantly let go of Tom’s hand, then stepped aside. “Just now.” She didn’t want to examine why she was reluctant to break contact with her patient.
Steve Wilson sat down in the chair next to the bed and talked to Tom Flynt for a while. Then he stood up and examined him. He made some notes on Tom’s chart, then sat down again.
“You’ve had a concussion, Mr. Flynt, and two cracked ribs. One of the fractured ribs abraded a lung, and although the bleeding into your chest was minimal and appears to have stopped, we’ll need to keep you in the hospital for a few days to let it heal. All in all, though, I’d say you were darned lucky.”
Tom Flynt watched the doctor steadily. “I didn’t recognize my name, or the name of this town.”
Steve nodded. “You’ve got amnesia. It’s not uncommon after head injuries and traumatic events like car accidents, but your memory seems to be totally gone, which is more unusual. I’m confident it will return, but it might take a few days. And just in case, I’m going to have a specialist take a look at you.”
He turned to Tina. “Let me know if anything changes,” he said. “I’ll be in later.”
Tina noticed that Tom watched Steve Wilson carefully as he left the room. When he had disappeared down the hall, Tom looked back at her. “He seems distracted. Do you know why?”
Tina was stunned. “For someone who can’t remember his name, you’re certainly perceptive. And if he’s distracted, it has nothing to do with you. Steve is having some problems at home right now.”
Tom nodded. “I thought something was wrong.”
“It hasn’t affected his work. He’s a great doctor,” she said quickly. “And everything he said was correct.”
“Don’t worry, I believe him. It’s hard to argue that I don’t have amnesia when I can’t remember my name.” He gave her a wry smile.
His brown eyes were warm and glowing, and, just as she had thought, the lines around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Her stomach swooped and dipped, and she tightened her grip on the bed rail.
“Do you have any questions I could answer?” she asked hurriedly.
“Can I look in a mirror?” he asked.
“Of course.” She found a hand mirror in the bathroom and handed it to him.
Tom took the mirror with the same sensation of unreality that had enveloped him since he’d woken up to see the nurse smiling down at him. He stared at the face in the mirror for a long time, but it looked utterly foreign to him, as unfamiliar as the name “Tom Flynt.” He struggled to beat back the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Finally, he handed the mirror back to the nurse who stood next to the bed. He noticed that his hand was shaking.
“I don’t look familiar at all.”
“It’s all right,” she said quietly. “Don’t try to force yourself to remember. That will only