Life as I Know It (3 page)

This was one hell of a dream, I told myself, hastily covering the ring over again with the tape. But dream or otherwise, I
hadn’t missed the signs of anxiety in his demeanor when he’d mentioned the children.

“What else?” I queried. “About the children? You were holding something back then.”

“I was going to add, ’especially Teddy,’” Grant said quietly.

“Teddy?”

“Edward, the younger of the twin boys,” he explained. “There were complications at their birth. Toby was breech, and took a long time coming out. Teddy didn’t get enough oxygen to his brain while Toby was being born. He’s got… learning difficulties.”

I pondered this last piece of news with a sinking heart. I might be experiencing a vivid dream, but I was still here, living this life until I awoke, and it seemed to be getting more complicated by the second. How could I be capable of being a mother to all those children? Especially a child with special needs. What sort of wonder woman had this Lauren been? I hoped I would wake up soon, because if Dr. Shakir was right and this was somehow real, I seriously doubted that I would ever be able to match up to her.

I suddenly felt very tired. Something in my face must have alerted Grant, and he stood up quietly. “I’ll take the children home,” he said, stooping to plant a kiss on my forehead. This time I didn’t turn my face away, but he must have seen the flicker of apprehension in my eyes because I saw the sorrow etched upon his face.

“I hope the children won’t be upset not to see me,” I murmured guiltily.

“They’ll cope for now,” he answered firmly. “We all will. Look,” he added, “can I bring them back this afternoon, when you’ve rested?”

I nodded, wishing I had the courage to refuse him, but it seemed so petty when the children were obviously missing their mother so much, and anyway, I told myself, I might have woken up by then.

As the door closed behind him, I lay back against the pillows with a groan. “You’d better be wrong, Dr. Shakir,” I mumbled to the ceiling. “I’m Jessica, not Lauren. I’ll wake up soon and prove I’m still me.”

Grant returned later with a huge bunch of flowers that the nurse put in a large vase next to the small vase containing the flowers one of the girls had brought me earlier. Nurse Sally, as she liked to be known, had extracted the flowers from the child before the family had left, promising her I would get them.

“Sunflowers, my favorite!” I exclaimed when Nurse Sally had left us alone together.

Grant looked intently at me, hope lighting his features. “You’ve always loved them,” he whispered, taking my hand. “Do you remember that monthlong vacation we took in Provence, before we had the children? Those fields of towering sunflowers seemed to go on forever and we filled all the jars and vases in the villa with them.”

“I love sunflowers in my real life,” I replied stubbornly. “The life where I’m not married and have no children.”

“Stop it, Lauren,” Grant said, abruptly letting go of my hand. “There is no other life!” He closed his eyes for a moment, as if to contain himself, then opened them again, and even though I hardly knew him I thought he looked drained and weary. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m struggling with this as much as you are. I don’t know what to do.” He sank down onto the visitor’s chair and ran a hand tiredly over his eyes. “I can’t bear it that you don’t
remember us,” he said quietly. “All those years, all the experiences we’ve shared, the loves, the sorrows, the energy we’ve put into our children. If you don’t recall any of it, it’s as if it’s all gone, it might as well never have happened. I feel like I’ve lost you.” He leaned toward me, but I instinctively pulled back from him and he regarded me with haunted eyes. “I love you, Lauren. When they called to say you’d been rushed in here, and that your heart had stopped, I thought you were dead. Have you any idea how that feels? I thought I’d lost you forever, and I realized I couldn’t bear it. When the doctors said you’d live, I was so, so grateful. But you’re not really here with us, are you? I’ve lost you after all.”

I stared at him in dismay, not wanting to hurt this stranger, but unable to help him, either. It was bad enough that I’d unwittingly arrived into this nightmare; now I had this man’s distress to cope with, too. Why wouldn’t I wake up? I’d never dreamed so long and so realistically before. Once, when I’d eaten a particularly hot curry when out with my girlfriends, I had dreamed strange haunting dreams on and off all night, but never anything like this. How long would it last?

I looked into his tortured face, saw the tears not far away, and realized that while I was here I was going to have to deal with the situation as best I could.

“I’m sorry, Grant. I didn’t want any of this to happen,” I told him quietly. “It isn’t anyone’s fault. I understand that you want things to be like they were before, but they can’t be. I don’t remember being your wife. I don’t want to be Lauren. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

He stared at me with tear-filled eyes, then rose from the chair and came to perch on the edge of the bed. He took my hand in
his and squeezed it, and it took all my willpower to leave it where it was.

“You’ll stay with us, though, won’t you?” he asked. “You won’t leave us?” I was still desperately contemplating my answer when the door opened and Nurse Sally shepherded the children into the room.

“Mummy!” they shrieked, bounding toward us.

“Careful now,” Grant admonished them, rising awkwardly and sniffing back his tears as the children climbed around us on the bed. “Don’t forget Mummy’s not well.”

Feeling as if I were watching myself in a strange play, I let Grant introduce the children to me. The children had been told I’d lost my memory and seemed to find it amusing that I didn’t remember who they were.

“Sophie here brought you the flowers,” he told me, smiling proudly at his elder daughter.

“Thank you, Sophie,” I said, taking in the long chestnut hair so like her father’s, the frank green eyes.

“Nicole made you the get-well card.”

“It’s lovely,” I told her with a smile. “You got my hair just right.”

“It was what it looked like when the lightning got you,” she answered. “It stuck up just like that and sort of glowed.”

I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach.

“You saw it?” I asked in dismay. “You saw the lightning strike me?” Nurse Sally’s question about who I’d been with at the time of the accident echoed in my ears.

Nicole nodded. “It was awesome!”

“Nicole!” Grant scolded his daughter. “Don’t make it sound as if you enjoyed seeing Mummy getting hurt.”

“I saw it, I saw it,” cried one of the twins as he jumped at the
end of the bed, narrowly missing my feet and causing waves of pain to shoot across my back. “Mummy was on fire!”

Grant looked as if he were about to chastise the boy I assumed was Toby, when a sorrowful little voice from the corner piped up. We all stopped talking as the second twin repeated sadly, “That isn’t Mummy. My mummy’s gone, and she’s here instead!”

A hushed silence
filled the room. We all turned to where a small redheaded boy stood eyeing us from the doorway, tightly holding a soft, brightly colored ball.

“What did you say?” I asked softly.

“Mummy’s gone. She caught fire, and now you’s here. I want my mummy!”

And Teddy began to cry.

I realized I was clenching my hands together so tightly that the beautifully manicured fingernails were digging painfully into my palms. My breath, which had left my body in a rush with Nicole’s revelation, was having trouble drawing back into my lungs. The fact that it seemed Teddy could see me, Jessica, and not his mother changed everything.

The boy’s comment had first filled me with a sick kind of dread that this wasn’t just a ghastly dream after all—but in the next heartbeat I felt the beginnings of hope. I wasn’t alone anymore in this strange place where everyone insisted one thing while I believed another. This small child saw past the outward
appearance of his mother’s body and into the person inside. I wanted to hug him for joy.

“Come here, er… Teddy.” I reached out a hand to him. Some instinct told me to take things very slowly.

He eyed the offered hand suspiciously but I gave him an encouraging smile as he inched a step or two closer before stopping. Realizing he wasn’t going to come any nearer, I fixed my eyes on his. Something in his expression warned me to be as honest as possible with him. “You’re right, Teddy. I’m not the same mummy as before. I don’t know what’s happened…” I ran my gaze over his confused, tear-stained face and felt a gamut of emotions run through me. I felt a deep sympathy for him, gratitude, and a mixture of relief tinged with fear for myself at his reaction. Struggling to find the right thing to say to comfort and reassure him, I shrugged and ended helplessly, “It’ll be all right, Teddy. Everything will sort itself out, you’ll see.”

Teddy wiped his nose on the cuff of his blue sweatshirt and sniffed loudly.

“Don’t be so silly, Teddy,” Grant said, going over to the boy and picking him up. “Come and give Mummy a kiss.”

Grant lifted the boy onto my lap, and I reached out to pat him awkwardly.

Teddy twisted his shoulder away from my touch and scowled at me.

“Teddy!” Grant admonished him, giving me an apologetic glance.

“I don’t mind,” I said tiredly, not wanting the boy to have to kiss me any more than he seemed to want to do it. “None of this is his fault, either. This is confusing for all of us.”

The other children ignored the interchange and chatted together while Toby jumped on the bed, jarring my burns until
Nurse Sally arrived to change the dressings and suggested to my husband that he take the children home.

“You look about done in,” she said when they had gone. She removed one of the pillows and I settled down at last to rest. “Try to sleep. You never know, your memory might come back in the morning.”

I was desperate to speak to the doctor again. I had a million questions to ask, but visions of Dr. Shakir’s fascinated expression when he’d looked at me set off warning bells in my mind, and I pressed my lips together, nodding obediently. I closed my eyes, realizing how tired I really was after the immense shocks of the day. I lay for a while listening to the sounds of the hospital around me: metal carts being wheeled, doors creaking open and closed, the soft steps and hushed tones of the night staff as they exchanged news, and then I was asleep.

Yet it seemed no time at all before I was being shaken awake. The nurse bending over me was a different girl. Nurse Sally must be off-duty, I realized dozily as I sat up, accepting the drink that was pressed into my hand. Eyes half-closed, I sipped the warm tea gratefully, feeling the heat and sweetness of it seeping into my being. Reaching out to put the empty cup on the hospital cabinet, I felt the empty space with my hand too late, and both cup and saucer fell with a crash to the floor.

Wriggling into a sitting position, I looked in dismay at the mess. The bedside cabinet wasn’t where it had been when I dropped off to sleep. It was on the opposite side of the bed and it looked somehow different. The silver light of early morning was creeping into the room from a wide window at one end of the ward. A four-bedded ward. I counted the beds with growing disbelief. Had they moved me from my windowless room in the night?

Alarmed, I found the red buzzer at the head of my hospital bed and buzzed long and hard, my hand shaking with growing confusion.

A male nurse came running.

“What’s the problem, Ms. Taylor?”

My mouth dropped open in astonishment.

“You called me Ms. Taylor,” I heard myself whisper. “How do you know my name?”

“The man who brought you in found your name and address on your dog’s collar,” the nurse replied soothingly. “Now don’t get yourself all worked up. He said to tell you he’s taken the dog home with him for the time being. He said you weren’t to worry about Frankie; she’s in good hands.”

I felt the wetness on my face and knew I was crying, though no sound escaped my lips. The nurse tut-tutted and patted my hand sympathetically.

“That’s right, Jessica,” he said. “Have a good cry. You’re probably still in shock from the lightning strike. You’re a very lucky young lady, you know.”

I nodded, leaning my head back on the starched hospital pillows, and gave a deep, shuddering sigh. So it had all been a nightmare. I’d been hit by lightning but the rest of it had been a ghastly, unsettling dream caused by nothing more than the shock of what had happened to me. I was still me, still Jessica Taylor. I peered down at my ringless fingers and wanted to sob for joy.

Glancing up, I watched as the nurse made his way back down the ward in search of a dustpan and brush. There were no small children hiding in the shadows, no husband trying to convince me I was his wife. As soon as the nurse was out of sight, I turned my face into the pillow and wept with relief.

I found it disconcerting to realize how my mind had worked
on things while I had slept. In the dream I’d pictured myself much more damaged by the chance lightning strike than it appeared I actually was. In reality, there was no drip in my arm, no heart monitors attached to my chest, and no large bandage round my neck and shoulders. It was as if I had prepared myself for the worst, and now I was pleasantly surprised to find myself almost unscathed. A very young Chinese intern came to see me soon after I’d finished the rather spartan hospital breakfast of cornflakes and toast. He introduced himself as Dr. Chin and assured me I’d gotten off very lightly.

“The burns to your back and shoulder are minimal,” he explained. “We have dressed the wounds lightly to prevent infection, but they are superficial and should heal in a few days without leaving permanent scarring.”

“No antibiotics required, then?” I asked.

He shook his head, peering at a chart that had been hanging at the foot of the bed. “We only admitted you to the ward because you had not regained consciousness, but your two-hourly observations through the night have proved satisfactory.”

“Did my heart stop at any time?” I asked anxiously.