His Badge, Her Baby...Their Family?. Stella Bagwell
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The nurse turned a pointed look on Geena. “You didn’t eat all of your breakfast. How are you feeling? Head still hurting?”
Geena glanced at him, as though to seek his advice about divulging her name. Her first name, at least. But the idea must not have appealed to her, because she answered the nurse’s questions without expanding on the news.
“It’s only a dull ache. I can bear it.”
“Baby still moving about?”
Smiling faintly, Geena nodded. “I’m convinced he or she is going to be an athlete.”
“Great,” the nurse replied. “I’ll take this tray out of here and let you finish your talk with Detective Parcell.”
Vince watched the nurse leave the room before he turned back to Geena. “You didn’t correct her about your name or say anything about us,” he stated the obvious.
She looked away from him and swallowed. “No. I started to. But I need to think about all this before I say anything. Later today, I’ll let her in on the news that I’m not Alice in a fairy-tale world anymore.”
Too bad this wasn’t a fairy tale they could both wake up from, Vince thought dismally. It would save them both a lot of awkward misery. But this wasn’t a dream. It was reality. Something he dealt with every day.
“Well, it’s time I leave and let you rest,” he told her. “You’ve had enough excitement for one morning.”
Her gaze jerked back to his face. “You’re leaving? But I have so many questions! Can’t you stay just a little longer?”
Her legs were dangling over the side of the bed and Vince’s gaze followed the blue fabric of the hospital gown to the point where the hem stopped at the middle of her shins. Below it, he could see her calves were smooth and shapely, her toenails painted a bright neon pink.
There were so many things about her that had changed, he realized, yet so much that was still the same. And he suddenly wondered why he was noticing all these little things about her. Nothing about her gold-spun hair, creamy skin or pink toenails had anything to do with her current predicament. Yet he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her.
“I can’t give you answers now. My partner and I are pasting your photo on every form of social media. I’m certain there will be someone out there who will see it and give us the information we need. In the meantime just be thankful that you and your baby survived the car accident. Things could’ve certainly been worse.”
“Believe me, I’ve very thankful for that. But I—can’t you tell me a bit about us? Our marriage? You said we lived in Reno?”
Suddenly remembering the small photo he’d brought with him this morning, he fished it out of his shirt pocket.
“Just in case you still have doubts—here’s a picture of the two of us on our wedding day.” He handed her the snapshot. “We didn’t have the money to have a professional photographer at the ceremony. A friend took this.”
Vince watched her study the image of the smiling couple standing beneath an arch of flowers. He’d been dressed in a borrowed suit and a friend had made Geena’s simple white dress. Everything about the wedding and small reception had been modest, but neither of them had cared. They’d been deliriously in love.
But she didn’t remember that. She didn’t remember the nights they’d made passionate love. And maybe he should thank God for that. Because he was doing enough remembering for the both of them.
“Did we have children?” she asked. “What happened?”
Lifting her head, she looked to him for answers. Vince couldn’t give them to her. At least, not all of them.
Turning away from her, he walked back over to the window. The man with the cigarette was gone. And it was definitely past time for Vince to be gone, too.
“No. We didn’t have children. And we simply decided that our lives were on different courses, that’s all. We parted on friendly terms. After that, I moved down here to Carson City. I’d not seen or heard from you until last night when I walked into this room and saw that you were the accident victim.”
“I see,” she said quietly. “So everything ended between us long ago.”
“Yeah. It ended.”
Awkward silence stretched for long moments before she finally spoke again.
“Well, I must have had family other than you. Clearly my father is gone and my mother is questionable. I don’t have siblings, but what about grandparents, aunts or uncles? Have you tried to contact them?”
“Your grandparents are no longer living,” he informed her. “As for aunts and uncles, your father had a brother, Mort Cummings. He lives in Montana now. I’ve already spoken with him. He lost touch with you a few years ago. Other than him I don’t recall any aunts or uncles you were well acquainted with.”
“Cummings,” she repeated thoughtfully. “So that was my maiden name?”
“That’s right. Your mother’s name is Rhonda. Your dad’s was Gerome. I understand he had a heart condition. That’s why he died when you were still so young.”
She placed the wedding photo on the mattress next to her thigh, then pressed her palms to her cheeks. “I should be feeling grief or loss or something about my parents. But I can’t feel anything! Not about people I don’t know or remember. Oh, God, this is awful. So awful.”
The fear and frustration in her voice pierced his heart. “You can’t deal with everything at once. Don’t worry about figuring out where your present family is or how you’re going to find them. Leave that to me and Evan. All those feelings you’re talking about—they’ll come to you once your memory returns.”
Dropping her hands, she stared at him. “I don’t even know if I have other children or a husband!”
He tried to muster an encouraging smile. “No. But you’ve learned your name is Geena and you’re twenty-nine years old. And you once had a husband named Vince. That’s a start. We’ll figure out the rest.”
Before she made any sort of reply, the phone holstered to the side of his belt vibrated. After quickly scanning the text message, he said, “I have to go. If we learn anything that progresses your case, I’ll let you know.”
In afterthought, he extracted a personal card from his wallet and handed it to her. “My number is on there. If you need me or if you remember anything, no matter how slight, call me. Okay?”
She nodded and then suddenly her lips began to quiver. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been difficult and you’re trying to help. Thank you for that. Really.”
Lifting her hand, Vince gently patted the back of it. “Don’t worry about anything. The best thing you can do is take care of yourself and your baby and let me do the rest.”
She gave him a brave nod, and before Vince could get mushy over