Read Online Lost Identity by Leona Karr - Free Book Online

functions, but Trish only half listened. Her overriding concern was the prognosis for getting her memory back.
    “Good,” he assured her when she asked. “Try to relax and go with the program we have set out for you. Trying to force yourself to remember doesn’t remove any of the road blocks. You may recover your memory all at once, or you may experience just bits of memory, and our job will be to piece them together like a jigsaw puzzle.”
    “I hate puzzles,” Trish said without thinking, and then looked startled. “How did I know that?”
    Dr. Duboise chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Just accept it. You’re going to be a prize patient. I can tell.”
    When Andrew arrived that evening, Trish was keyed up, anxious to tell him about her day. They had a pleasant, no-frills dinner in a spacious cafeteria, and then took a leisurely walk around the grounds.
    “I spent a couple of hours in the physical therapy department,” she told him with an eagerness that gave a lift to her voice. “Guess what? The therapist said that I must be dedicated to regular exercise because I have excellent muscle tone. Isn’t that something? He put me through some pretty vigorous routines and I did really well.”
    “That’s great,” Andrew said, delighted at her high spirits. Certainly anything positive that she discovered about herself was a blessing, and he wondered if it had been her physical stamina that had saved her life.There was an animated energy that he hadn’t seen before.
    “Guess what the occupational therapist said after looking carefully at my manicured nails and soft hands?”
    “You’re a lady of leisure, or someone who doesn’t do any physical chores?”
    “That’s close enough. She told me we’d concentrate on finding out what kind of tastes and hobbies I might have. The room was filled with people painting, drawing, some working with clay, others knitting or sitting at sewing machines. None of the activities made any kind of a call to me, but when I told her that I liked music, she said we’d start there.” She gave her head a toss. “It isn’t much, but it’s a start.”
    He was delighted with her unexpected transformation. There was an energy about her that even made her more appealing. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind all day, and had been prepared to deal with pleas to let her go back to his place. All of his mental arguments were a waste of time—at least for the moment. He didn’t know if her present attitude would hold up in the face of a prolonged disappointment, but he felt as if a great hurdle had been safely passed.
    “I’m going to lick this thing,” she told him, even as she tried to still the quivering fears that lay beneath the words.
    When he told her, “Good night,” at her door, he lightly kissed her on the forehead. It was a benign gesture, void of any kind of passion or desire. “I’ll be working at home tomorrow. Call me if you run out of something to do, or someone to talk with.”
    She saw that his arms were dropped passively at hisside, and she felt that he’d taken several steps away from her even though he hadn’t moved. His expression was friendly, and nothing more. She remembered the warmth of his embrace, but he made no effort to draw her closer. Well, what did you expect? an inner voice mocked. He was obviously relieved that she wasn’t making a fuss to get out of this place.
    “Thanks, but I think they’re going to keep me rather busy,” she said, determined to let him off the hook. She’d messed his life up enough already.
    Andrew’s feelings were mixed as he drove back home. Certainly he was glad to see that Trish was determined to come to grips with her lost memory, but a part of him regretted that she no longer needed his support. He wished that they’d talked about the momentary sexual tension that had flared between them. He’d never been adept at handling confrontations. Because of his insecurity as a foster child, his way was