“When my fellowship ended, I knew at once where I wanted to devote my attention—to Thea Hughes. I had no idea what I would find in her, but my professional curiosity demanded I work with one of the world’s worst cases of amnesia.” She gave me a wry grin. “Maybe my ego had a little to do with it, too.”
My throat was dry. “And?”
“Her file reads as if she were a typical traumatic brain injury patient with no hope of recovery. But between seeing her in person and this conversation right now, Mr. Whelan, I’m quite dumbstruck at how Thea’s case and Dr. Milton’s recent work might intersect.”
I stared. “Is Thea a candidate for whatever he’s working on?”
Dr. Chen smiled. “We’ll see. Can we speak again? I find those who work with patients on a daily basis often know more than their physicians.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to be working here much longer.”
“That’s a shame. Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be here.” She held up the drawings. “I’m going to be here quite a lot.”
Chapter 17
Jim
For the next few weeks, Dr. Christina Chen kept every one of her promises to Delia. She spent hours with Thea, observing her, asking careful questions and taking notes. Pages and pages of notes.
Not that I witnessed it myself. I kept my own promises, staying away from Thea, and Rita kept me updated.
“I think Dr. Chen has a plan,” she said. “I think she might be able to do something for Thea.”
I sank into the chair in the break room. “That’s good.”
“Good?” Rita laughed. “Dr. Chen knows you knew Thea needed more than Magic Markers and scratch paper. You should—”
“I’m leaving,” I said.
Rita stared. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to put my two weeks in with Alonzo. I should have done it two weeks ago, but…”
But I wanted to make sure Thea was going to be okay first.
“Nope,” Rita said. “I won’t let you.”
“It’s okay. It’s better this way.”
“For who? Delia? But not Thea.” She leaned toward me. “She’s doing well, painting again, but she’s not like she was. She’s not as happy as she was when you were taking her for walks and—”
“She’s not as happy because she’s still recovering from Brett,” I said. “It’s not me.”
Rita crossed her arms and flumped back against her chair. “You were right about what made Thea happy, Jim, except you forgot to include yourself in that equation.”
“It’s better—”
“Stop saying that,” she cried. “It’s not better for you and Thea.”
“There is no ‘me and Thea,’” I said, my skin burning. “F-F-Forget it.” I got to my feet and went to the door.
“Jim,” Rita said, her soft tone stopping me. “You’re a good man. That you’re willing to leave her only proves it. But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“You put Thea’s happiness in all our faces. You made it important.”
“Because it is.”