Underestimated (36 page)

gentleman pushed the joystick on his chair and came to me.

“How are you, Morgan?” he asked with a warm

smile, reaching for my hand.

“I wish I remembered,” I smiled down at him. My

hand in his didn’t feel like it did when Drew held it. This

man felt genuine.

“We’ll help you with that. I’ve hired the two best

nurses in the state of Nevada. They will make sure you get

better,” he assured me.

“I’m very sorry. I know that I am supposed to

know who you are, but I honestly don’t,” I explained.

“That’s not important right now. My name is

Randal. Let’s get you better before we worry about that,

uh?”

I smiled with a nod. He turned his chair and pretty

much demanded Drew’s attention.

“I’ve got Terri and Melissa set up in the north

wing. They will see to Morgan’s needs. I want her taken

care of, and that’s an order. Do you understand?” he asked

Drew.

“Yes sir. I will be sure of it,” Drew said, bowing

down to the man. I wondered who he was and why Drew

was so intimidated by him.

Randal Callaway didn’t come into the house with

us and left with the third nurse.

I stood immobile once we were inside. Drew

dismissed the two women and turned to me.

“Do you remember this place, Morgan?” he asked,

staring very intently at me, probably trying to read my face

and figure out whether or not I did.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. I didn’t remember. I

didn’t remember at all, and nothing about the magnificent

home did anything to jog my memory.

“That’s okay. It’ll come,” he smiled, and I heard

the Derik guy snort.

“I kind of wanted to talk to you about something,” I

said to Drew.

He dismissed Derik, and held my elbow while we

walked into the living area.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

He did come right back and sat beside me on the

sofa.

“What is it, Morgan?” He asked, turning his legs

toward mine. I moved. I didn’t want his legs touching

mine.

“I know that we are married, and all, but I really

think I need to sleep alone for a while. This is all like very

new to me, and I am having a hard time figuring out where

I fit in.”

Drew smiled as a lady brought in two cups of hot

tea. I didn’t recognize her either.

“It’s okay, Morgan. I have already moved your

things to a nice suite upstairs. I thought you might feel that

way.”

I smiled. “Thank you, but is there a bathroom up

there. I realized as soon as I had asked that it was a stupid

question. Of course, there were bathrooms up there. The

house was amazing.”

“Yes, there is one in your suite,” he smiled.

I sipped the warm tea, but really didn’t want it. I

just wanted to lie down.

“Do you mind if I go there now? I’m a little tired.”

“Not at all, you rest, and I will have some food

brought up to you when you wake up.”

“Thank you.”

I held the rail going up the stairs and Drew walked

beside me, holding my arm. I wondered why he put me in

a room upstairs. He knew that I had a broken pelvic.

When I got to the top of the stairs, I stopped. There

were so many rooms, all with closed doors. Drew didn’t

help me figure out which one I should go into.

“Do you mind helping me out here a little?” I

asked. It came out sort of cold.

“You don’t remember which one is your room?”

I looked at him oddly. “My room? I thought that

you moved my things in here after my accident.”

“I did, I was just trying to help your memory

along.”

How was confusing me going to help me get my

memory back?

He opened the door, and I looked around. That

room did feel maybe a little familiar, but I wasn’t sure if it

was a good feeling. I almost felt like I was going to have a

panic attack being in there, but didn’t know why.

“I’ll leave you to rest. If you need anything, just

pick up that phone and hit one. It goes right to my office”

Drew smiled.

“Thank you,” I smiled back.

I walked around looking at the room. It looked like

he had taken all of my things from our shared room and

brought them to that room. A jewelry box sat on a vanity,

and I opened it to find some beautiful pieces. I walked to

the walk-in closet, and none of the expensive clothes were

ringing a bell. I ran my hand across the fashions and

walked to the back of the enormous closet. I had more

shoes than any one person could wear in a life time. I was

rich. I was really, really rich. Okay. Maybe Drew was the

rich one, but none the less.

I walked into the bathroom and was happy to see

the jet tub that was calling my name. I started the hot

water, and walked back to the bedroom to find

comfortable clothes that weren’t so fancy. There were

none. I had expensive nighties, not a cotton t-shirt in sight.

I opened the underwear drawer and frowned, pulling out

something that I thought was supposed to be panties, but

wasn’t honestly sure. What was the point in wearing them?

That just wasn’t going to work. I wanted

comfortable flannel pants, underwear that covered my ass,

and a soft cotton t-shirt.

I walked over to the phone and hit the number one.

“Is something wrong?” Drew asked.

“Yeah, kind of,” I stopped talking when I heard my

voice coming from his end of the phone. How was that

possible?

“What’s wrong, Morgan?”

“Are you sure these are my clothes?” I asked. I

didn’t hear my voice on the other end that time and blew it

off as another side effect to my brain injury.

“Yes, I am very sure that those are your clothes.”

“Well, I would like some comfortable sweats or

flannels, some normal panties, and maybe some socks.

Didn’t I wear socks?” I asked.

“Not very often, you wore pantyhose mostly. I will

send someone out to get you a few things.”

“Thanks, do I have a laptop?” I asked.

Drew didn’t speak. He kind of acted like I took

him off guard for a second.

“You did have, it was in the car when you

wrecked it.”

“Well, do you think that I could get another one?”

“Not yet. The doctor is afraid that too much eye

movement will cause seizures. You have a television. You

can watch that for a while if you want.”

“I don’t want to watch television. I wanted to do

some research on my head injury. I would kind of like to

know what I am up against, maybe find some stories from

other survivors.”

“I’ll tell you what. You get a bath and rest for a

while, and you can come down to my office and use mine

for a while. Okay?”

“Why would I take a bath?” I asked. Why would he

say that?

“Is that not what I hear in the background?” he

asked. I relaxed.

“Oh, yeah, I guess it is. Sorry.”

The hot water felt amazing, and the jet streams

were hitting sore spots that I didn’t know that I had. I think

I was dozing off a little when I heard someone in my room.

“Hello,” I called out.

“It’s just me, Terri,” the one female called. “Can I

come in?” she asked.

“Sure,” I replied, covering myself as much as I

could.

“Mr. Kelley said that you were requesting some

more comfortable clothes while you recovered. Mellissa

went out to get you some things. I brought you some

lunch,” she added.

“Thank you,” I replied. She smiled and left me to

get out. The only problem was. I couldn’t get out. Every

time I tried to pull myself up, the pain was unbearable and

shot from my pelvic all the way down my right leg. Why

the hell did I get in there?

“Terri!” I called out with no response. She was

gone. Great, how long was I going to have to stay in there

until someone came back?

I tried a couple more times with no avail. I

couldn’t lift myself out. I wanted to cry. I felt so helpless,

so alone, so lost, and now I need something for the pain. If

I ever got out the bathtub.

I heard Drew call out next.

“Morgan,” he tapped on the door.

Great. I didn’t want him to be the one to come and

rescue me.

“Can you go and get Terri for me?” I called out,

not wanting his help.

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, I just need help getting out of the tub.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He opened the door and

was smiling at me.

“I can help you out, Morgan. We slept together for

almost eight years. I’ve seen you naked before.”

I took a deep breath. I supposed he was right, and I

was being obtuse. I smiled and nodded.

He took my arm and helped me out of the tub. I

quickly grabbed the towel to cover my front. He was

looking at me with pure lust. I knew that’s what it was.

How could he look at me like that when I was hurt? I

didn’t like it. I didn’t like it one bit.

“I’m good now. Thanks,” I coolly said, wanting

him to leave.

I didn’t put on any of the clothing, and settled for

the terrycloth robe hanging on the back of the door. I lifted

the silver lid from my tray and actually felt a little hungry.

I had turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, corn and a roll. I

sat on the edge of the bed and picked at it. I guess I wasn’t

as hungry as I initially thought I was. I pulled pieces of the

roll off, dipping it into my potatoes and gravy as I looked

around my room. I felt like crying. Nothing seemed right. I

didn’t feel rich, and certainly didn’t feel like I belonged

there. Why couldn’t I remember who I was? I hated this,

and only hoped that the doctor was right, and I would

regain my history.

I covered my half eaten food and lay on the bed. I

wiped a falling tear with my thumb. I didn’t understand. I

could remember the words to songs, but not how I knew

them. I could remember whole books that I had read, but

not where or when I read them, and this place. I had

absolutely no recollection of ever living there, at all.

I slept for a couple of hours, and when I woke I

had a horrible headache, but was happy to see the freshly

washed clothes folded and laying on my bed. I took two of

the pain pills by my bed, went to the bathroom and pulled

on the normal panties, a bra from the drawer, pink and

green flannelled pants, and a simple white t-shirt.

I walked out and slowly descended the stairs. I felt

every step as the pain shot up my pelvic and back. Why the

hell would he put me on the second floor with a broken

pelvic? I intended to ask him along with a few other

questions.

“Where is Drew?” I asked the lady chopping up

vegetables in the kitchen.

“I think he’s in his office,” the lady that I didn’t

recognize explained. I looked at her, and she read my

mind. “It’s the door straight across from the living room.”

I opened the door to the office and Drew was on

the phone. He looked up with instant anger.

What the hell?...

I slowly lowered myself to the settee across from

his desk. He replaced the irritated expression with a

smile, telling whoever he had been talking to that he

would have to call them back.

“Did you also forget how to knock,” Drew asked,

annoyed.

“I don’t know. Did I always knock before I came

into your office?”

“Yes, and I would appreciate you doing so in the

future. I do conduct business in here. Is there something

that I can do for you?” Drew asked with a smirk that I

wanted to slap off of him.

“Yeah, there is,” I said, giving him attitude. Who

the hell did he think he was? “Maybe you could show me

some wedding or vacation pictures. Where did we meet?

Did we always live in this house? Do I have any friends

that I could talk to?”

“Must you walk around dressed like that?”

What?

I looked down at my comfortable attire. “Are you

concerned with the help seeing me? Did I always dress in

the fancy clothes upstairs to lounge around the house?”

“Yes. You did, and I would also appreciate you

doing that as well from now on.”

“You’re surely not telling me how I should dress,”

I asked in disbelief. Was this guy for real? Did I really

stay married to him for almost eight years? No wonder I

was in another country.

Drew got up and came to me. He took my hand and