sitting down in a chair before the receptionist. Rather than take the chair next to her, he stood behind her.
The woman on the other side of the desk had to be approaching retirement age and was definitely cheerful. She gave each of them a wide smile as they approached her.
“You caught us at a good time,” the receptionist, Rebecca according to the name tag pinned to her left shoulder, told them. “So, what brings you to the emergency room tonight?”
“He did,” Venus answered, turning her head toward the man behind her.
“She means besides that,” Trevor interjected, then took over the narrative. “She almost drowned tonight.”
Sympathy flared in the woman’s brown eyes as she appraised the would-be patient in front of her. “And you want us to check you out for any ill effects?”
Again, when Venus didn’t answer quickly enough, Trevor took over. “The ill effect is that she can’t remember who she is or anything about how she got into the ocean to begin with.”
“The ocean,” the receptionist repeated, looking surprised by the information. And then she nodded. “That would explain the damp clothes,” she surmised. The smile on her lips indicated she was a tad chagrined. “I thought you were talking about falling into a swimming pool.” Typing, she made a notation on the screen, then automatically asked, “Do you have any identification?”
Impatience had woven through her the second she’d walked through the doors.
“If I did, I’d know who I was, wouldn’t I?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Trevor flash her a look. Everyone couldn’t be as nice as he was, she thought defensively. And she had a feeling that she wasn’t in Trevor’s league when it came to being laid-back.
“Right.” Rebecca hit several keystrokes, then glanced up again. “No insurance cards, either, I take it.”
“No anything,” Venus replied, doing her best not to sound impatient.
Trevor saw the receptionist look at Venus, then raise her eyes to his. “And how would you like to—”
Trevor anticipated her. Before the receptionist could find a comfortable way to ask the question, he had his wallet out and produced a credit card. Leaning over the desk, he handed it to her.
“Put it on my card,” he instructed.
After taking the card from him, the receptionist rose. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. “I just have to run this through.”
“I don’t feel comfortable about this,” Venus told him as the receptionist went to a room behind the registration area.
“It shouldn’t take too long,” he assured her. In his opinion, she really needed to get checked out, just in case something was wrong. “She said they weren’t busy tonight.”
Venus waved away his words. “No, I mean having you put this on your credit card.” It was hard to believe selfless people like this man were still around. “How do you know I won’t skip out on you once my memory comes back?” she challenged.
“I just know.” When she looked at him skeptically, he added, “Call it a hunch.”
“I call it being foolhardy,” she retorted.
“Why?” His mouth curved in amusement. “Are you planning on skipping out once your memory returns?”
“No,” she answered with feeling. “But you don’t know that for sure.”
He gazed into her eyes and her stomach went queasy. That was twice now that she’d reacted to him this way. Why?
“I just know,” he told her softly.
The receptionist returned with the paperwork before Venus had a chance to challenge Trevor again. He signed on the line allotted for his signature. In less time than it took to house the paperwork in a folder, they were being ushered into the rear of the emergency room where all the beds were.
Most of them were empty.
The attending nurse took down more information, although it, too, was sparse beyond Trevor’s recounting of the events. Venus had nothing to add because she couldn’t remember.
X-rays and blood work were ordered.
An orderly wheeled her away to the lab, leaving Trevor to sit and wait and wonder if he was getting in over his head. Normally, these days, the most interaction he had with women outside his family was to ask them if everything was all right with their meal. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been out socially.
The thought made him smile. His father and Kate would be happy about this. Any girl in a storm.
The physician on duty reviewed the films and glanced at the lab report. His expression indicated that he was unimpressed by either.
“Everything looks normal,” he declared, returning the X-rays to the oversize manila envelope that protected them.
“But I can’t remember anything,” Venus protested.
The physician seemed fairly unconcerned. “There’s no evidence of a concussion and no tumors or lesions are indicated. Most likely, what you have is a case of hysterical amnesia.”
“Hysterical?” she echoed with distaste. Venus didn’t care for the term’s connotation. She was fairly certain she wasn’t the hysterical type and resented being categorized that way.
“Hysterical amnesia brought on by a trauma, either physical or emotional,” the doctor explained. “In either case, most people suffering from that recover their memories in a few days.”
Venus zeroed in on the crucial word. “Most people, but not all.”
“No, not all,” the doctor freely admitted. He glanced at the chart again, then placed it at the foot of her bed. He looked at Trevor as he continued, “But there’s no reason to believe that you won’t.”
“Are there people who never recover from amnesia?”
The emergency room physician appeared reluctant to comment on her question. Venus waited for an answer.
“Every now and again, yes, a few never recover their memory. But again, there’s no reason to believe that you’ll number among them.” A hint of a smile creased his thin lips. “You’ll get your memory back.”
That wasn’t enough. She needed facts. “Give me a good reason to believe that I will.”
The doctor seemed weary. It was apparent that he wasn’t accustomed to justifying his opinion, but he humored her.
“Well, you’re young, healthy and in very good physical condition. Those are the best conditions. Give yourself a little time.” He glanced at the man beside her, silently enlisting his aid. “Nearly drowning is a pretty intense experience.”
A restlessness continued to consume her. “So’s not knowing who you are.”
The
