Of Body And Soul (20 page)

She finally sat on the sofa and picked up the other details of this opulent but warm room. A tall crystal vase of white calla lilies sat on a detailed carved sideboard next to a doo
rway, which she presumed was the doctor's office. The graceful lilies leaned toward the door, as an invitation to peace and tranquility.

Vivaldi's
‘Four Seasons’ filled the room, and she rested her head on the back of the sofa and closed her eyes, enjoying the seduction which the office offered.

Dr. Mendoza stared at Andrea from his office doorway. He smiled when he saw her eyes open. He walked over to her, reaching out to help her off the sofa. "Are you ready to find your ye
sterdays, Mrs. Purcell?"

The rich timbre of his voice gave her the confidence she needed. She couldn't do this alone. She wasn't strong enough. And she really wasn't sure she even wanted to do this. 
He led her to a chair in his office. She was pleased when he sat across from her instead of behind his desk. He took her cane and leaned it against the desk. "Do you need a footstool for your leg?"

"No, that won't be necessary." She straightened up in the chair and looked directly into his eyes. "Why can't I remember anything?"
             

"That's what we're going to find out. Most of the time, in cases like yours, it's because of a traumatic experience prior to the initial accident."

Andrea nodded in acknowledgement. "So, you're saying I'm purposely bringing on this memory loss?"

"Unconsciously, yes."

"That's impossible. I know my husband left me when I told him I was pregnant. Grayson told me that. If that's the case, why don't I feel terrible about it? I know I had a happy childhood.

Grayson also said I had wonderful parents and a future as an acclaimed artist.

"The love my husband and I had for each other had to be real or I wouldn't be pregnant. I don't know why he left me. Only he can answer that."

"
These are the questions you must ask yourself. Do you want to find your husband?" Do you really want to know your past? Will it be
too
hurtful for you to endure?

She shrugged. "Sometimes I wish
he was taking care of me. But I'm not sure.” Andrea placed her hand over her heart. “No matter how bruised this is,” she patted her chest “it's still beating. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well," she looked at him. "Have you ever ridden a horse, Doctor?"

He nodded his head.

"Then you'll understand. It's like jumping on the back of a horse, fantasizing as you race through the fields that it will take you to the ends of the earth. You know Doctor, this is how I feel about my amnesia. I'm racing ahead to make my tomorrows.”

"Well, what about your yesterdays?"

"I've decided yesterday's sorrow can be tomorrow's joy."

"Then you don't want to discover you
r past?"

"Yes . . ., I do, but . . .
I'm happy now. I haven't told anyone this,  but I've fallen in love with my nurse. Do you know Kurt?"

"Yes, I met him briefly. Don't you think you're just me
smerized by him? By his attentiveness, his caring?"

"No, it's more than that. H
e's not just my caretaker. And I feel I'm more to him than just a patient. He understands me and I sense, no, I
know
he's fallen in love with me."

"Aren't you taking too much for grant
ed?"

"No, I don't think so. Whenever we're together, which is most of the time, he can't take his eyes off of me. I can see the hunger in his eyes and I know he can see it in mine. He's trying to keep a professional relationship between us, but he's finding it difficult."

"That's something the two of you will have to work out when you regain your memory. But for now, you must make every effort to get better. Have you had any flashbacks at all? Do you remember anything? Andrea, no matter how trivial it may seem to you, I need to know."

"I have this recurring dream. I see myself in a room, a bedroom, a hotel room, I really don't know. I hear noises from an adjoining room. When I enter the other room, there's a man
standing with his back toward me. Just as he starts to turn around, I wake up." 

"It seems to me
if we can take you back to that room you may remember. Would you agree to hypnosis?"

"I don't know." Andrea reached for her cane. She tapped it soundlessly on the Oriental rug. "Why do I have to go back? Is it so important that I know my past?"

"Listen to yourself. Don't you want your child to have a heritage? Don't you want him to know his father?”

"To know a father who walked out on him. Do you call that a good
birthright? How do you think he'll feel, when he's old enough to understand his father left because of him?"

"Please, be reasonable. You can't go on for the rest of your life not knowing the past."

Andrea thought about what he said. For a moment, they stared silently at each other. A great melancholy seemed lodged in her heart. Despair ignited within her. as it does with the powerless.

"Why can't I? Is it so wrong never to go back?" She held up her hand to stop his reply.
              “No, I need to give this considerable thought," she said coldly. Andrea got painfully to her feet and limped from his office.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Grayson was waiting for her outside the doctor's office. "So, how did it go?"

Andrea looked at Grayson and shook her head. "Not now," she said, as tears flooded her eyes.

The drive back to Wyndemere wa
s exhausting for both of them. Snow fell and made the roads and the trees look as if they had been dusted with confectionery sugar. It was a spectacular drive back, but neither of them saw the beauty.

By the time they reached home, Grayson could see the softening in Andrea's eyes as she wit
hdrew from the hurt she must have experienced in the doctor's office. She helped Andrea to her room and tried to make her comfortable.

"Do you mind, Grayson? I need to be alone."

"No, of course not, dear. If you need anything, I'll be at home.”

Andrea smiled. "Thank you,"
she said and kissed Grayson's cheek.

Grayson closed the door and leaned against it. "The poo
r child," she said in a whisper.

“
How is this ever going to end?" On the way back to her quarters, Grayson peeked into the dining room and saw Kurt reading the newspaper. "Kurt, I'm glad I've finally gotten you alone. How are things going with your sessions?"

"They're going great. You know
, Grayson, if I had trusted my other therapists, possibly all this could have been avoided. I realize I've over-reacted to my childhood problems. The doctor insists my thinking is way off base. I let my childhood nightmares become my adult monstrosities. Now, I know I'd do anything to protect Andrea and our child."

"Then you must start filling Andrea in on your life together. You must help her reme
mber. Dr. Mendoza is worried about her. He feels she's going deeper and deeper, and if someone or something doesn't jar her soon, she may never come back to us."

"I can't tell her yet, not yet," he
said, running his fingers through his hair. 

"Why? Why can't you tell her? Are you afraid of what she'll do?"

"Yes. Damn it, Grayson. Yes, I'm afraid. I said terrible things to her, the night I walked out on her. I'm to blame for the accident, and I'll never forgive myself for that." 

Gray
son walked over and put her arm around his shoulder. "Give yourself a break. Can't you see she's in love with you?"

"Yes, I know she's in love with me. Kurt, the nurse, not Kurt, her husband."

"Be kind to yourself and tell her."

"I will."

"Promise?"

He nodded his head in agreement, walked over to the bar
, and poured himself a scotch. He turned to Grayson, "Want one?"

"Yes. Thanks. I think we both need this." She raised her glass to his
and said, "To your happy tomorrows."

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Kurt
quietly opened Andrea's bedroom door. He stood over her, watching her sleep. She turned, taking the pillow with her and hugging it to her chest.
What could she be dreaming
, he thought? Dr. Reynolds had taken the cast off a week ago  and she was moving remarkably well. She may have lost her memory, but her determination is the same. He was about to leave when she suddenly called to him.

"Kurt, did you come to give me a back massage? I haven't had one in such a long time."

"Good morning. I thought you planned to sleep the rest of the day. Come on, get up," he said, as he drew the drapes open to a day of sunshine.

"But
I want a back massage."

"No. I think you've been pampered enough. It's time for you to get a move on." He pulled the comforter from her body and took in a deep breath. "Damn it, Andrea, why didn't you tell me you were naked under there?"

"You didn't ask," she teased.

She looked into his eyes and saw the naked hunger escaping. She studied him silently and his cool blue eyes studied her back. He quickly averted his eyes from
her nakedness and walked across the room. "Get dressed," he commanded, "and wear something warm." He threw a chenille robe at her and slammed the door behind him.

She smiled and jumped out of the bed quicker than she should have. "Ouch," she
said.

"Are you okay in there?" he yelled from the other side of the door.

"If you were any kind of a nurse, you'd help me bathe and dress," she said and giggled.

"Andrea, be serious. Get dressed and meet me in the dining room for breakfast."

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

She limped slightly as she walked over to the table. Kurt stood and pulled out a chair for her. 

"Are you angry with me?" she asked mischievously.

"No, but you must stop baiting me." The power of his gaze stunned her.

"Well . . . .”

"Don't." He held up his hand. "Damn it, let me say this. Every time I try to talk to you about something in your past you get glib. Aren't you interested in your life before the accident? 

Right after the accident you wanted to know everything. Now, you act as if your previous life has no meaning. Do you enjoy not having a past? What's with you?" His words were sudden and raw
and extremely angry.

Confused and furious, she jumped up from the chair and turned on him with an abrupt show of defensive spirit. "How dare you talk to me like that? You're only my nurse. I'll report you to Dr. Reynolds."

"Sit down and stop acting like a child," he said, grabbing her hand and pressing it tightly. "Sit down."

She sat back down and the waiter approached the table to pour her a cup of decaf. She turned to him. "I prefer regular coffee, please."

Kurt pointed his finger towards her cup. "Pour it, Eric."

"I don't like decaf," she said def
iantly.

"You've been drinking it since you had the accident."

She looked at Eric and he nodded and smiled. "I have? Then I guess it's not all that bad," she said. She looked sheepishly at Kurt, and he looked directly at her and they both laughed.

Kurt glanced at his watch. "Finish your breakfast. I plan to take you to
Santa Fe for the day."

"Sante Fe." She leaned over the table and kissed h
im. "I'd love that."

"Andrea, don't you ever let up?" He got up from the table and stood over her "So are you ready? We need to let Grayson know we'll be gone for the day."

"Didn't you get enough sleep last night? You're such a grump," she teased, as she finished her breakfast.

"I'm sorry, but it's after ten and I want to get on the road."

Grayson watched as they walked to her house. Andrea held onto Kurt's arm so as not to fall, and one could see how the two of them fit like a hand in a glove.

"Hi, what's going on?"

"Kurt's going to take me to Sante Fe for the day. We just stopped by to let you know."

"Will you be back for dinner?"

Andrea looked at Kurt for an answer. "If Andrea's a good girl, I'll take her out to dinner."

"Watch out for the weather," Grayson, s
aid. "It can turn nasty in a matter of hours."

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

For the first fifteen minutes they drove
in silence.  Every once in a while Andrea focused on Kurt. Something nagged at her and she didn't know what or why. It was as though something inside her, her memory, or lack of, required the reality of a proven betrayal.

Andrea understood the only alternative was to confront her amnesia even though it seemed unbearable. Would she lose Kurt if she remembered her past? Would she want her hu
sband to be a part of her child's life or would she want Kurt to be her child's father?

She didn't even know her husband's name. She
had never asked, and no one offered to tell her. A peaceful calm came over her as she looked at Kurt. At this very moment, she decided she should go back.

"Andrea. Is something wrong?"

"What? What did you say?"

"You looked as if you were in a trance. Are you feeling okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I've made a big decision. I'm going to tell Dr. Mendoza I'm ready for hypnosis.”

Kurt gave her a quick look. "Are you really?" he asked.

She took his hand. "I think it's time, don't you? Its really not fair to my baby to never know his Dad, and I need to know for myself why he left me. It couldn't be just because I'm pregnant? And if he did leave me because of the baby, there had to be a logical reason." She looked at Kurt, hoping he'd say something about how he felt for her.

"Why don't we just enjoy the day
, and tomorrow you can call Dr. Mendoza for an appointment."

"Kurt, I need to know if you feel the same way about me as I feel about you. You've gi
ving me every indication you want me, but you've never made any advances toward me. Why?"

"Why? First of all, you're a married woman. Second, I'm your nurse."

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to find my past even if it means going back to my husband?"

"I think you need to talk to Dr. Mendoza first before you can decide. You don't know how you're going to feel once you find your past. You may be totally forgiving of your husband."

"Yes, I may forgive him, but will I love him?"

Kurt shook his head. "There's a life out there for you and only you can give it direction."

“The question is . . . do I want to?”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

They
continued
without speaking. As they approached the Rio Gorge Bridge,” Kurt asked, “Do you want to walk out on the bridge?”

“I’d love to do that.”

Kurt helped her out of the car and led her to the middle of the bridge.

Andrea looked down. “Whew
! I feel dizzy.”

"Well, according to this information, the bridg
e is six hundred fifty feet above the Rio Grande. It's magnificent, isn't it?"

"Yes," she responded, and pulled slightly away from him.

"Is something wrong? You've been acting strange all morning. Is the ride too much for you and the baby?"

"No, I've seen enough. Why don't we just go to Sante Fe
, and visit some of the museums before it gets too late?"

He nodded in agreement and helped her back to the car.

The streets of Sante Fe were bustling with people because of the religious feast days. In the plaza, Pueblo Indians dressed in their ceremonial costumes stood in groups, waiting for the ceremonies to begin.

Kurt and Andrea watched in
awe as the ceremonies unfolded. It was difficult to pull themselves away. They were running out of time and there was so much to see and do.                            

"Andrea, I think we should be going. We've been here for five hours."

"I know, but these artists are magnificent. I can't get over how they play their colors. The te
xture and media is beautiful. The museums and art galleries . . . “ She raised her arms in surrender. ”I'd love to take some classes here. Do you think that would be possible?"

He looked at her.
She was a phenomenon. He hadn’t thought she could be more beautiful. But pregnant, she radiated. He wanted to blurt everything out to her at this very moment. "You'll have to ask Doctor Mendoza how much longer you'll be staying in New Mexico."

She looked at him,
a question written on her face.

He turned from her. "Come on, let's go."

"Kurt. What's the matter?"

"I have to leave in a few days."

"What? Why? Did you accept a job somewhere else?"

"You might say that."

"Why? I thought you wanted to help me?"

"I do," he said, "but . . . .
"

"But what?"

"Things are getting out of hand with us.”

She looked at him, knowing full well what he was saying.

He took her hand. "Come on, let's go. It's getting late and Grayson will be worried."

When Andrea
stepped out of the gallery to a beautiful blue sky she lifted her face to the sun feeling the cold of the day and the heat of the sun all at one time. "Oh, it feels like a hot towel on a cold body."

"Don't let the
New Mexico air fool you," he said. "And don't be lulled by this sunny weather. It can deteriorate from clear and sunny to a heavy snowfall in a matter of hours."

"Aren't you a wealth of information. Did you stay up all night reading tour books?"

"Don't be sarcastic."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound that way. I guess I'm hungry. Aren't you ever going to feed me?"

"I don't think we should stay. It feels like it's gotten colder. Maybe we should head back."

"No. Let's go over to the
St. Francis Hotel. I read somewhere that they have a traditional afternoon tea. That would be so much fun," she said. She grabbed his hand and hobbled down the street to the St. Francis.

“Do
you know where we're going?" he said.

“Yes,
I do. The hotel is supposed to be one block southwest of this Plaza."

“That’s
great," he said. "But we're going in the opposite direction."

“Oh.”
She giggled, then turned in the opposite direction.

From the moment
she entered the hotel, she felt as if time had turned back. The unique ambiance of the early 1920’s room projected a feeling of romance and casual elegance. Black wrought iron chandeliers hung from fourteen-foot ceilings. Elegant moldings graced the ceilings and walls. Huge columns jutted from soft apricot colored Mexican tile floors to the ceiling, giving the room a feeling of intimate alcoves.

Soothing
Chamber music reached out from one of these alcoves and drew them into its mood. They sat back comfortably, listening, looking, and enjoying the serene beauty.

“Do you realize
you know everything about me and I know nothing about you, except you're my nurse?"

"What would you like to know?"

"Everything,’ she said provocatively. Or” she paused. “As much as you want me to know."

He told her about the
childhood he and his sister Emily had on the Cape. Too late, he realized what he had said. He tried to cover his mistake. “Have you ever been to . . . ?”

“Yes.” She fixed her eyes on him.
"How come you never mentioned you had a sister Emily? Didn't you think it a coincidence that my best friend's name is Emily and your sister's name is Emily?"

"To tell you the truth, I never thought about it."

              She felt a sudden chill.

"What?”
he asked.

"Nothing. Go on with your story."

"My father was very abusive. Without equivocation he was an appalling and harmful father. His fists were an armada of his edicts and authority." The memory set his teeth on edge and opened the door to a lot of painful memories, which had become easier to deal with since his treatments with Dr. Correo.

"Oh, Kurt," she said tenderly. She reached for his hand and held it, as he told her of his tee
nage years and the constant physical and mental abuse his father dealt him.

"I have never figured out why he changed toward me. He loved me as a child. He always showed me affection. At times he could be funny and sometimes, I swear, he was even ge
ntle. Like this one time I was practicing to try out for the football team. He really got into to it. He hired a private coach to work with me for a month. On weekends, when he came home, he would come over to the football field and watch me. He’d tell me how good I was and how special I was. To this day, I still try to recapture that special month.

"But, when I became a teenager, he turned into a monster. The therapist said I'd become a threat to him, or maybe even a rival. The
doctor felt that my father become jealous of my looks and the way my mother treated me. You see, my Dad wasn't much to look at, but his personality made up for it. My mother fell in love with him, not his looks. He could never understand that. The older I got, the more abusive he became. He began to drink and became abusive to my mother and sister. It became intolerable for me. I took a job after school, and after work I’d go to the library and study. I worked hard and studied hard.

“When
I received a scholarship from Boston College, I went, gladly. I went away and never returned and neither did my father. The last time I saw my father was through eyes that could barely opened.” Kurt paused. “See this. This is what he left me." He pointed to a scar at the corner of his eye, "My father punched me in the face and his ring caught me. It's a wonder he didn't blind me."

Andrea gently touched his eye. "I'm sorry, Kurt."

"My mother was in a nursing home. She had lost her mind. During the holidays my sister and I would get together in Boston. During the summer, I worked on Nantucket Island and she’d come to the Island for vacation. When we received the news my father had passed away, I felt relieved. I think my sister felt the same way. Within the year, my Mom also passed away.                            Emily went off to college and got her teaching degree, and I went off and got my jour. . . .my nursing degree. Now, there's just Em and me. We take care of each other. We have since we were kids," he said and smiled, and glanced at his watch. "I can't believe the time." He motioned to the waiter to bring their bill. "We'd better leave. Grayson's going to be worried sick."

“W
hile you're paying the bill, I'll give her a call and let her know we're on our way.” Andrea gave him a quick kiss and hurried off. An electric sparkle lingered as she went to find a phone.