Carmen Green - The Husband She Couldn't Forget

“You have your arm out the window, your sunglasses on. You wave to people, blow your horn. You’re going somewhere. It’s fun.”

“You’ve seen me driving?”

“Yes, I’ve seen everyone driving. Even Purdy and she’s not a good driver. She’s hit everybody’s car.”

Melanie’s mouth fell open. “No way.”

“Does that mean am I lying? I’m not. I’ve seen her. Horace and I have seen her hit cars in the parking lot.”

Melanie cracked up and looked around. “Did Horace tell you not to tell people?”

He considered her question for a moment. “Maybe he did.”

She patted his arm. “Let’s talk about something else. May I ask you something?”

“My life as far as I remember it is an open book.”

“Okay,” she said, and he liked the way she squeezed her lips together. “Why don’t you have a sock on your left foot?”

He stretched his long leg out and flexed his foot.

“Melanie, we were having a hard time earlier with west. I’m not sure if it was me, but let’s just say it was. I decided that to spare your foot anymore damage, I wouldn’t wear a sock on this foot as long as your toes are healing. No sock will remind me that left is west.” He stood up. “Left is west,” he said and turned left.

Melanie applauded. “If left is west, which way is south?”

Rolland stopped and closed his eyes. Other patients and their family members walking by on their way to the dorm watched Rolland.

Melanie gave them the sign to be quiet.

“If you’re facing north and west is left of north, then south is left of west?” Rolland pivoted to the left and looked at Melanie expectantly.

“Yes! Rolland, that was great.” She’d gotten off the swing and hurried over to him. “Which way is east?”

“Left,” he said confidently.

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.

“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?”