Chapter Ten

Tammy typed another parameter into her computer. "Incorrect Password" appeared on the screen yet again. Sighing, she tried another. It didn't work. She was preparing to again when the phone rang.

Thinking that it might be David again, she rushed upstairs to answer it.

"Is this Tamellyn Brinkman?" a voice asked.

"Uh, yes," Tammy responded. Lack of memory did not change the name on her driver's license.

"Good," the young man identified himself as an insurance adjuster. "Can I ask you to describe the accident that occurred on..."

An inexplicable fear shot through Tammy's heart. "Uh, I can't help you with that," she told the man. He politely asked her why not.

Tammy felt herself growing agitated. "I just can't help you," she insisted. "I d-don't remember anything... about the accident."

"Mrs. Brinkman. Were you driving a blue Pontiac licensed to you and your husband on the afternoon of..."

"I can't help you," Tammy repeated, shaking her head.

"Are you suggesting that you were not behind the wheel Mrs. Brinkman?"

"I said I can't help you! I-I've got to go." She hung up the phone and moved away from it as if it were the enemy. And indeed it was. As she stared at it, a rapid rush of images flashed through her mind painful in their intensity. She pressed her fingers to her temples, attempting to stem the tide. The flashes rushed on, making her dizzy. And then, just as suddenly they stopped.

She collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor.

David entered his home to find it silent. Dropping his keys on a table in the entry hall, he continued on into the house. The kitchen was dark, so he stepped toward the stairs and looked up. All the lights were off upstairs, so he continued on toward the door that led to the basement. It was open, but a sound from the den caught his attention.

"Tammy?" he called her name softly. Continuing further into the room, he found her huddled in a corner. "Tammy?" he whispered, reaching for her.

She jerked away from him, her eyes glazed.

"Tammy?" he tried again. Moving slowly as if he were afraid of spooking a frightened animal, he stooped to the floor and edged closer. "What happened, honey?" he asked. He had never seen her like this before. It terrified him.

"Tammy, honey. It's David," he told her, edging ever closer.

At the sound of his name she blinked and her eyes cleared. Moments later she launched herself into his arms. Heartbreaking sobs wracked her body as he held her tightly against him.

"Shhh," he murmured into her hair. "It's okay, honey. It's okay." He held her until she cried herself out. Exhaustion must have taken over then, because her head drooped against him, and with a shuddering sigh, she fell asleep.

David hauled himself into a standing position, keeping Tammy cradled in his arms. He carried her to the guest bedroom and removed her shoes and slacks. Although he was sure she wouldn't appreciate the later, she would be more comfortable. He then drew the covers up over her.

~*~

"Dr. Gaylin, please." David spoke in an urgent whisper. He used his office phone because he didn't want to be too far away from Tammy in case she should wake up. The receptionist was not so easy to get by, however.

"No, I'm not a patient. But I've discussed my wife with him. Please, I need to speak with him. It's urgent."

David sighed in frustration as the receptionist carefully explained that Dr. Gaylin was a very busy man, and that he would have to make an appointment for another consultation.

"Just tell him it's David Brinkman. It concerns Tamellyn Brinkman. She went into some kind of a ... a state. Just tell him that. Please."

She seemed to be considering his request, and then Dr. Gaylin's voice came on the line. David quickly explained what he had found when he returned home. Dr. Gaylin's tone sharpened as he shot rapid-fire questions at David. When the old doctor paused thoughtfully, David took the opportunity to ask a question of his own.

"What do you think? Is she going to be okay?"

"Patience Mr. Brinkman," Gaylin told him. "As frightening at the incident may have been for her, it may herald progress. It is possible that she has remembered something that caused her a shock. My recommendation is that you allow her to rest, and when she awakens, simply ask her what happened. That is the only way to know for sure."

David closed his eyes and shook his head. He could have figured that out for himself. "Thank you, very much, Dr. Gaylin," he said, hoping that his tone wasn't too dry. "I'll do that."

"See that you do," Gaylin replied, knowingly. "I should like to see her in seven days. My receptionist, Nancy, will make an appointment for you. Hold on."

David obediently did as Gaylin suggested, though he was having doubts concerning whether the old doctor knew what he was talking about. Arguing would do nothing to help Tammy, and he had been gone from her for too long already.

When he returned to the guest room, though, she was still sleeping. Settling on the floor beside the bed, his back pressed against the wall, he watched her sleep. Heavy shadows were beneath her eyes, and her mass of hair was in complete disarray but she was beautiful to him. Exquisitely beautiful. And he wanted her back.

"Oh, Tammy," he murmured softly. "Come back to me. I miss you."

Tammy opened her eyes and found herself staring at a white wall. She blinked, momentarily uncertain of where she was. Memory began to return...she remembered being in the den and... and... what? She rolled over unto her back, simultaneously recognizing the guest room and a dark form in her peripheral vision. It was David.

He sat on the floor, half slumped in a corner, fast asleep. He must have kicked off his shoes at some point, as they lay nearer the door than his feet. And his shirt, wrinkled was an understatement. She hated to think how stiff he was going to be if he had spent the night there on the floor.

"David," she whispered his name. When he only grunted, she pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed. "David," she called again more loudly.

His head jerked, and he opened his eyes and looked directly at her. "Tammy?" he whispered and fought a yawn. "Are you okay?"

Tammy had to smile at that. "You're the one who slept on the floor. Maybe I should be asking you that question."

David returned her smile ruefully as he pushed himself stiffly into a more comfortable position. "Yeah. Oh! I must be getting old."

Tammy giggled at him. "This is all rather amusing, and before I begin to make this more of a habit, do you mind telling me what happened? The last thing I remember was being in the den."

David's smile faded away. "You mean you don't remember?"

Tammy looked at him oddly. "Remember, what?"

David scrubbed his hands over his face before looking at her again. He moved as if to take her hands, but stopped himself. "Tammy," he began, his eyes intent. "When I came home yesterday, something had happened. I found you in the den. You were...you were very upset."

Tammy felt something like a tickle in the back of her mind, and then suddenly she remembered. The phone call. She gasped at the memory, backing away from him.

"What is it?" David caught her arm. "Tell me what happened. What's wrong?"

Tammy shook her head, battling confusion and an uprising of fear. "I don't know," she told him. "I don't know."

"Did you remember something?"

"I don't... yes, but I don't know what it means. I..It happened after the insurance company called and--"

"The insurance company?"

"They wanted to know about the accident," Tammy told him.

"They shouldn't have called you," David said. "I told them--"

"Why shouldn't they have called me?" Tammy asked, preferring any other emotion to fear, even if it was anger. "You don't have to protect me."

"Yes I do have to protect you," David replied, his voice softening. "And I'm so sorry that this happened to you. I shouldn't have left you here."

Tammy opened her mouth to continue the conversation, to push him into an argument, but found she didn't have the heart for it. He looked so tired, and he had slept on the floor beside her bed, not to mention the way he had held her the day before. She couldn't push him. Instead, she reached a hand to touch his. "It wasn't your fault."

David's hand convulsively grasped hers back. An expression that warmed Tammy to the tips of her toes crossed his face. She smiled gently at him, and helped him move stiffly to his feet.