Chpater 3

            Layla was more nervous than a girl going off to college. Of course, she never went to college, so how would she know what that feels like?

            Dr. Samuelson sat down across from her. “I think it’s best that we start off with your earliest memory. If we can’t get you to remember anything in the first few sessions, then we’ll graduate into hypnosis.”

            “All right,” Layla said.

            “I got a copy of your medical records from the clinic that treated you in New York. You were unconscious for almost a full day and then you came out of it with no memory of your life or even what your name was.”

            “That’s correct,” she confirmed.

            “It also says here that the CT scan showed that there was no physical reason why you can’t remember your past. The attending physician wrote that he believed it was emotional trauma that was causing the memory block.”

            “Yes, I remember him telling me that. He had recommended a psychiatrist then.”

            “Why didn’t you see one?”

            “My husband was against it. He said that he didn’t want me to upset myself. Then he asked me if I really wanted to remember how my parents abandoned me and put me up for adoption when I was six years old.”

            “Oh,” she said.

            “Yes, that revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. I got pretty upset and realized that he was right – at the time. I couldn’t handle remembering that in my fragile state.”

            “And now you think you can?”

            “I know I can because I have no choice. It’s starting to bother me that there is a huge chunk of my life that . . . I don’t know about.”

             Dr. Samuelson nodded. “Okay, let’s go back to the time in New York. Tell me what you remember when you woke up.”

            “I woke up in a place I didn’t recognize. I looked around, and I was all alone in the room. That’s when I realized that I didn’t even know who I was. I tried to get out of the bed, and that’s when I realized my neck was in a brace, and my leg was in a cast up to my thigh.”

            Dr. Samuelson put the medical file on the coffee table. “Yes, it said that you had a sprained neck and your leg was broken in two places. The file said that you were in a car accident.”

            “The medical staff said that I was probably hit by a drunk driver who was able to flee the scene of the accident.”

            “The cops couldn’t get any information from your crashed car?”

            She shook her head. “Cops? There was one county deputy that came to see me. I was outside of the city. He claimed that he couldn’t even find a car. Poor Damien couldn’t remember where it was. If Damien hadn’t gotten worried and looked for me, my baby and I would have died in the car.”

            “So you remember you were pregnant when the crash happened?”

            “No. I didn’t know I was pregnant at all. Damien didn’t know either until he got me to the emergency room. The staff figured it out. I was only four to five weeks long. I was lucky that I didn’t miscarry. I did go into labor a month before my due date, and they did a C-section as a precaution. Luckily, Keisha was born without major health complications.”

            “Was she put in an incubator?”

            “Yes, but it was only for a week. She weighed exactly five pounds when she was born. Once she gained a little weight, and it was obvious she had no signs of impairments, we were able to take her home.”

            “That’s one lucky kid.”

            “She is, and I am grateful. With the exception of my husband, she is the light of my life,” Layla said with pride.

            “What else happened at the clinic?”

            “After I woke up, I called out. ‘Hello. Hello.’ A nurse heard me from the hallway. She was pretty surprised to see me awake, but she called the doctor, nevertheless. Once the doctor checked my vitals, he said he was going to get the receptionist to call my fiancé at his hotel to let him know I was awake. They must have warned Damien that I didn’t have my memory because when I laid eyes on him, he introduced himself as my fiancé.”

            “Dr. Miles is a neurosurgeon, right?”

            “Yes. Damien had just gotten his license two years before the accident. He told me that we were waiting to get married until we could afford a house, but he said we should get married sooner rather than later because I was pregnant.”

            “Well, I’m sure that was a shock in the state you were in.”

            “More than a shock. I was freaked out. Here was this man, who was good looking by the way, telling me that we were engaged, and that I was around five weeks pregnant.”

            “How did you handle it?”

            “Not well at first. Don’t get me wrong, I thought Damien was adorable, and I told him so, but I also told him I wasn’t ready to be a mother. Especially since I couldn’t even remember how old I was.” Layla smiled. “Damien was so patient and understanding. He just helped me through my fears and my freak-out episodes.”

            Dr. Samuelson smiled. “Sounds like he loves you very much.”

            “Yes. I was in the clinic for two weeks. One of the reasons was because we were in New York, and our studio apartment was in DC. The doctor didn’t want me traveling so far because he thought it would jeopardize my recovery.”

            “Then you went back to DC?”

            “Yes. Damien was afraid that it would be too difficult for me to hobble around a large airport, so he rented an SUV, and we drove back.”

            “What were you two doing in New York, anyway?”

            “He was attending his first medical conference. I went with him for moral support, and I had never been to New York before. His mother had given us the money to attend. She thought it would skyrocket his career.”

            “I take it that you didn’t remember his parents either?”

            “No. I had never met his father. He had died three years before we met, but he was a doctor, too, an orthopedic surgeon. I’m told he was very good at what he did. Damien’s mother was nice. She still lives in DC. She’s a retired nurse now. His parents met at the hospital they both worked in and fell in love.”

            “How is Damien’s mother toward you?”

            “Great. She would sit with me at the apartment while Damien was at work. She showed me the Miles family photos. She explained who everyone was and how they were all related.”

            “Does he have any siblings?”

            “No. He’s an only child. Mrs. Miles had gone on about how happy she was that Damien had a nice woman to marry, and he wouldn’t be alone anymore. Once my leg and neck had healed, Mrs. Miles gave us money to elope to Vegas and have our honeymoon there. I was able to buy a white satin dress, and Damien wore a nice fitted suit. A few months later, I had Keisha. Damien’s reputation as a neurosurgeon had picked up, so we weren’t struggling as bad as before. If it wasn’t for Mrs. Miles paying for my medical bills from New York and from the hospital in DC when I had Keisha, we wouldn’t be where we are today. We owe that woman a lot. Either we call her once a week, or she calls us. She adores Keisha.”

            “Did you have a job?”

            “I was a waitress before the accident. When Damien called the restaurant and told them what happened to me, the owner expressed his sympathy, but he couldn’t hold my job until I got better. However, he did say that when I was ready, I could reapply for my position if he had an opening.”

            “Did you?”

            “No. I was pregnant with Keisha, and I knew I would have to stay home to take care of her. Childcare in DC is outrageous.”

            “It’s outrageous everywhere anymore,” Dr. Samuelson commented.

            Layla nodded.

            “You didn’t have any friends at your job?”

            “Not really. Damien had said I got along with my co-workers, but I wasn’t close to them. But he didn’t have to tell me that because no one from the restaurant ever called to see how I was. Not even the owner. I chalked it up to life in the big city.”

            Dr. Samuelson made notes on her notepad. “Why did you two leave DC?”

            “Damien’s reputation for being a brilliant neurosurgeon was spreading like wildfire. He had written several research articles for several medical journals. He learned that he could make twice the money in Florida, especially in the Tampa area because they were short of neurosurgeons. He asked me if I was willing to take a chance.” Layla grinned. “I was. His mother loaned us money for the down payment for the house we live in now, and we were able to pay her back a year after we moved. Our gamble paid off. We live in a pretty posh neighborhood, we drive gorgeous cars, we no longer have to eat Oodles of Noodles, and I don’t have to buy Keisha’s clothes from the Salvation Army anymore.”

            “That’s good.”

            “I’m very fortunate. I know that. If I can recover my memory, my life will be perfect. You know, last week, Damien said he wanted to have another child.”

            Dr. Samuelson looked up from her notepad. “How do you feel about that?”

            “Great, but I don’t think now is a good time, and I told him so.”

            “I agree. What did he say when you told him?”

            “We compromised. We’re going to wait a year. I’m hoping by then I’ll have the answers that I seek from our sessions. If not, then I’ll have to find a way to cope with my memory loss.”

            “Well, we can’t rush it. Let’s see what happens.”

            “Okay. You know–”

            “Layla, our time is about up.”

            “Oh. Already?”

            “Yes, sometimes it flies by. Before you go, I wanted to ask you if you are having any problems other than the occasional insomnia you told me about.”

            “No. Just the insomnia, but that’s not every night. Sometimes my mind won’t turn off. When that happens, it’s usually because the questions about my past are plaguing me.”

            “I got a copy of your physical from your general physician. There’s no reason why I can’t prescribe you a light sedative. You can take it as needed. It’s important that you get your rest during the time I am treating you.”

            Layla thought for a moment. “They’re not addictive, are they?”

            “They are fast acting, but not addictive.”

            “All right. I’ll give them a try.”