In Love with a Stranger

Chapter 1 – Nightmares

HANNAH

I looked down at myself, seeing I was in thin pajamas. He was going to leave without me knowing. I’d caught him sneaking out. I was barefoot, it was still dark and cold, as fall had come early here in New York. I jumped in his cab as it pulled away, not wanting him to leave. “You were going to leave without saying goodbye.” I remembered my throat being scratchy and sore, like I’d been crying a lot.

“I said goodbye last night.” He kissed my fingers, but my eyes stayed focused on his lap, ashamed. “You shouldn’t have come. I told you I had to go, Hannah, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

I was suddenly on the sidewalk. “Get on, now. You’re going to freeze to death out here in this wind.” He gripped my shoulders, turning me toward another cab. “I told you not to get out. You shouldn’t have come along in the first place.”

“But…”

“No buts.” He passed money to the cab driver. “Take her home.”

I awoke suddenly, upset again. I’d had the same dream many times, and I could never see his face. I was sure he hadn’t been a stranger, because I knew I had loved him, and he had pushed me away. He hadn’t kissed me goodbye. I could only conclude he hadn’t loved me in return. It hurt so deeply, every time I remembered it. The crushing pain in my chest held me captive in bed, until my daughter came in and dragged me out.

I hated that dream. It always came before a bad day. The other one was my favorite. He’d called me beautiful, with that rich English accent, though I couldn’t recall where he’d originally been from, or what his name was. I’d woken up to him calling my name, only to find my daughter instead of him, shaking my shoulder to wake me. I hated it, I hated him, and I hated myself for not remembering more and for never having had the guts to really try and find him. The pain in my chest from just the memory of him leaving me was so acute that I was terrified to endure more. I didn’t think I could handle it without a complete mental and emotional breakdown.

“Morning, Mommy!” My daughter jumped on my bed and picked up on my solemn mood. “Bad dream?”

I never told her about them, I just pulled her into my arms and hugged her tightly. “I love you, Penny.” I kissed her chestnut curls. “You make my bad dreams go away. Thank you for coming to wake me.”

I gave her a quick tickle, cheering up instantly, when I heard my daughter laugh. I glanced at the clock and saw it was time to get her off to school. It was another day in New York, another day I stayed somewhere I didn’t belong. For some reason, I could never force myself to leave. I couldn’t leave the last place he’d likely been, even if he never returned for me. I figured it was my subconscious holding me in place, because every time my father suggested I leave, which was still often, I became a crying, hysterical mess. I couldn’t go, I couldn’t leave where he might’ve been, where he might be again someday. He could return and remember me, even if I couldn’t remember him.

I knew my hope was in vain. It was now seven years later, and no one had ever come to claim me, to find me and to step up as the father of my daughter. I was scared that knowing about her was what’d pushed him away. Had he not wanted children? Had he thought I’d cheated?
Had
I cheated? I didn’t think I would’ve done such a thing, but I’d never imagined being in love with a man who was virtually a stranger, either.

I didn’t know why, but I’d apparently never let my friends or family meet him. My father had told me I’d called him on the phone from the airport, saying there wasn’t time, that we were already leaving, and so I’d never introduced them. He’d said I’d insisted I was in love and was leaving with him for New York.

When I’d completely disappeared for the six months I’d been in a coma, dad had been sure that “foreign bastard” had killed me and fled the country. He’d called him Jack, after Jack the Ripper, when I’d started trying to look for him, and he quickly discouraged me from pursuing it any further. The fear of rejection didn’t help, either. Of what little I could remember right before my coma, that memory of him leaving me was the clearest of them all, and it hurt more than anything I’d ever felt in my life.

Pushing my gloom aside as best I could, I unlocked the door to my bookstore and flipped the sign to say open.

And so another day began.

My life was good. I loved my job, and I loved my daughter. I had good friends, and I liked to focus on the future, because when it came to the past, it hurt too much to think about it, or rather try to think about it.

Ophelia had called last night, asking if she could pick up Penelope from school and take her shopping. I knew by now that protesting was pointless and agreed to it.  After I’d gotten Penelope to bed, I’d spent the evening reading a good book, trying not to think of what’d happened to me seven years ago.

I’d woken up one day in a hospital, with no idea how I’d gotten there. Six months of my life had passed, as I’d lay comatose and roundly pregnant, with a very worried blonde beauty sitting by my side. Ophelia Harper had been the stranger who’d found me slumped in an alley with a severe head injury. She’d run and gotten help, lying about being my sister, so she could stay with me. She was new to the city and didn't have any friends. She wasn't big on being friendly with other women as it was. She was so beautiful that it intimated other women, making it hard to keep true female friends. Feeling lonely, she’d sat and talked with me.  Being comatose couldn’t have made me very good company, but Ophelia had somehow been okay with that.

Seven years ago…

I was surprised and a bit disoriented, when I awoke to a woman painting her toenails, talking casually about her brother moving into town. She was so focused on her pedicure that she didn't realize I was awake, until I yawned and commented that it must’ve been nice to have a brother. She jumped, spilling polish all over, and grabbed her chest to try and contain her beating heart.  I giggled at the sight of this crazy woman freaking out.

"Oh, my God, you're awake! Oh, thank God! I'll get a nurse.  Yes, a nurse.  Oh, wait, I didn't know your name, so I told them you were my sister, Mary Harper," she said in a rush, “Nurse, got to find a nurse!”

I didn't say anything, as the frantic woman ran out the door screaming, "She's awake! She's awake!" The nurses walked in and smiled, and one of them slipped off to get the doctor.

"How are you feeling this morning, Ms. Harper? You’ve had your sister worried. She’s visited you every day since you’ve been with us," the nurse said, looking at me carefully.

"I'm fine, just groggy and achy." I stretched and tried to sit up, and that was when I suddenly noticed my distended stomach. "Oh, my God, what’s wrong with me?"

I tentatively put my hand on my rounded abdomen, and the nurse just smiled tightly. "The doctor will be here in a moment, Ms. Harper.  Just lie back and relax until he gets here." 

Lie back and relax?  She had to be kidding, right?

A doctor walked in a few moments later, holding my file and smiled. "Harper, Mary," he read the name and looked up at me with his baby blues, smiling. “I’m Dr. Geoffrey Graham.  Welcome back to the waking world.  You’ve been out for quite a while."

"Uh, could you tell me what’s going on?" I asked.  I was in no mood for humor at the moment.  I wanted some answers.

"Certainly, I know this is a bit of a surprise to you, Ms. Harper, but you’ve been in a coma for six months. It was determined when your sister brought you in that you were pregnant.  Were you aware of this fact?"

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. There was no way I could’ve been pregnant.  I was a virgin for heaven sakes!

I shook my head no. "That’s impossible.”

"What’s the last thing you remember, Ms. Harper?"

I tried desperately to remember what’d happened. "It was after graduation…I’d just finished my literary degree. I went and had dinner at the café. I paid and was getting ready to leave, and…that’s it, that’s the last thing I remember."

"Is there someone you’d like to contact? Your sister said she didn't know who your boyfriend was."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

Dr. Graham flashed a knowing smile at me, and I snapped at him. "I don't, and I can't be pregnant, I'm a virgin. I’ve never even…"  I couldn’t finish that thought.  He didn’t need to know exactly how inexperienced I was.

His face twisted into a pout. "Well, I’m afraid you’ve had some memory loss, but it should come back gradually, once you get back into your routine. Your OB/GYN will be in soon to check up on you, so will your physical therapist. They’ll set up future appointments, we’ll do a few more tests, and then you’ll be free to go home, okay?"

I just nodded my head, not really sure what it all meant.

The blonde-haired woman came back in and smiled weakly. "Um, hi, I'm Ophelia Harper. I found you in the alley not far from my store and brought you in. Apparently, you hit your head pretty bad or something, because you had a really nasty head wound. I was worried about you, but they wouldn't tell me anything, so I told them I was your sister."

"Was…was I raped?" I asked with a weak voice.

"No, they said you weren't attacked like that. Thank God." Ophelia put her hand on my tummy. "So, you don't know who, then?" Ophelia looked up at me with sad eyes.

"No, this is impossible. I'm a virgin. I've never…I didn’t…" I was getting upset, and Ophelia grabbed my hand, holding it comfortingly.

"Hey, it’s okay, I believe you."

"How can you believe me with this in front of you?" I gestured to my stomach.

"Well, I believe you don't remember, and that, my dear, is a little girl," Ophelia said with a smile.

"A girl?" I asked worried. "You're not kidding?  So I'm really pregnant? This isn't some horrible joke?  God, that’d be just like Brody."

"Brody?"

"He’s my best friend. Has anyone come to see me?"

"Well, no."

"Where’s my phone?"

"I don't know, you didn't have it on you, or a purse or any identification, nothing, hence the name Mary Harper.  What’s your real name?  Do you remember it?"

"Yes, it's Hannah, Hannah Madison. So, no phone?"

"Unfortunately, no.  Would you like to use mine?" Ophelia offered.

"Please?" I dialed my dad’s number, sure he’d be worried about me. It rang a few times, and I was surprised when Brody answered the phone, not my dad. “Brody, where’s my dad? I need to talk to him. I’m in the hospital and-”

He started right in on me. "Hannah? Where are you? What happened to you? Why are you in the hospital? What did that bastard do to you? I’ll kill him!"

I started crying. "I don't know, Brody. I don't know what happened. I’ve been in a coma for six months and…oh God, Brody, I’m pregnant. How can I be pregnant?"  I was full-on panicking now.

"Hannah, calm down, I’m on my way. You just need to tell me what hospital you’re in and where.”

“Where’s my dad, Brody?  Why did you answer his phone? I want my dad.”

“He’s working late and wanted someone to be around to answer the phone in case you finally called. It’s a good thing he did. Now tell me where you are, and we’ll get there as soon as possible.”

“What the name of the hospital I’m in?” I asked Ophelia.

"St. Joseph's West in New York."

"I'm in St. Joseph’s West in…NEW YORK! What the hell am I doing in New York?"

"Your name, tell him you’re going by Mary Harper," she reminded me.

“I'm buying the tickets now. We’ll be there by five o’clock this evening, okay? We're coming. Is he still around?"

"Who, Brody?  Who the hell are you talking about?"

"That guy, the foreign guy you ran off with! You didn’t tell me his name. Don't you remember? You met him at the café after graduation.  That’s all your father told me." I could hear Brody frantically packing in the background.

"I don't remember anything, Brody. I only remember graduation, taking pictures with my dad and then having dinner, that’s it.  That’s where my memory stops."

"Hannah, you're missing nearly eight months of time.  You met him on your last day in Carson City at the café, and you were totally gone over him.  You told your father you’d met someone and were heading off to be with him. Your dad was so pissed.  How can you not remember any of this?"

"I don't, okay!  I don't remember anything after walking out of the café."

"It's going to be fine, just calm down and take a few deep breaths.  I’m on my way out the door. The flight gets in just before five o’clock. I'm on my way, Hannah. Scott’s going to jump out of his skin when he hears we found you. I’ve got to go if we’re gonna make the flight."

I let out one more sob and let him go. At least I’d be seeing my dad soon.

When my dad and Brody arrived, they almost squished the guts out of me, hugging me in relief. Brody hadn’t told my dad I was pregnant, and he really flipped when he found out. I think the fact that I didn’t remember conceiving her got me off the hook. There was no angry response or disappointed looks, just the occasional worried glance, and I was sure all daddies felt that way when their daughters were expecting.