Persuaded (31 page)

Sometimes,
late at night when there were no decent sporting events on TV, Charles watched outdoorsy
shows about roughing it in the wilderness or fishing. It always grossed Hanna
out to watch fish being gutted, but it was exactly how she felt inside now.
Empty, as if her guts had been removed and were lying in the dirt somewhere.
When Derick reached out for her, she found herself shrinking back.

“I
should shower before the boys wake up,” she said without looking at him. She
didn’t want to see the self-loathing in his eyes again, couldn’t face the
knowledge that it had anything to do with her.

THIRTY-NINE

MEMORY
LOSS

“She is altered
. . . Be1nwick sits at her elbow, reading verses, or whispering to her, all day
long.”

—Charles
Musgrove,
Persuasion

As
Derick made his way back to Kelynch, he tried to reason with himself, tried to
tell himself that Hanna just needed time to digest the news in her own way.
Some people tended to go inward when this sort of thing happened. She obviously
felt responsible for the accident, even though neither of them could have
controlled Ella’s actions or the slippery road or whatever had caused her
little pink bug to kiss the bridge.

Seeing
Hanna’s already pale face drain of color as she spoke with Charles killed
Derick, just as much as letting her turn away killed him. But wasn’t that love,
after all? Letting someone work out their own pain when all you wanted was to
draw them close and take it upon yourself?

Back
at Kelynch, Sophie and Adam were sitting at the kitchen table eating twin bowls
of Captain Crunch cereal. Adam looked so tired that Derick wouldn’t have been
surprised if he face-planted in his bowl.

“When
did you get back?” Derick asked him.

“A
little while ago,” was the bleary answer.

“Benny
sleeping?”

Sophie
shook her head. “He took a shower and went back to the hospital.”

This
gave Derick pause. Benny wasn’t exactly Mr. Social, and it wasn’t like him to
jump into someone else’s calamity out of the goodness of his heart. But then
Derick remembered Phoebe’s tragedy—the auto accident that had thrust her into
the coma from which she’d never returned. The parallel circumstances couldn’t
fail to pull Benny back into the past.

“How’s
Hanna holding up?” Sophie asked her brother.

“She
just found out, so not great. I think she just needs some time alone to deal
with it.”

“Let
me know if I can help somehow.” Sophie stood and put the empty bowls in the
sink. “Let’s put you to bed, babe,” she said to Adam, taking him by the hand
and leading him from the room.

Derick
watched them go, a feeling of unmistakable loneliness taking their place. He
ambled to his room, decided to take a shower, and felt not the least bit better
afterward. Should he go back to Uppercross? Or maybe text Hanna instead? Try to
sleep? In the end, the only thing he felt like doing was being on the water—so
he set out for the
Laconia
.

☼

Later that
afternoon, when Charles finally prevailed on his wife to go home with him to
get some rest, Benny offered to stay with Ella in case she woke up. Charles and
Mary didn’t seem to understand Benny’s motivation, but it wasn’t such a mystery
to Hanna. She knew that Ella reminded him of his fiancée, Phoebe. Mary told
Hanna that just before they’d left the hospital, Benny began reading aloud to
the unconscious Ella.

“I
don’t know why he thinks she can hear him,” Mary said, stifling a yawn.

“They
say comatose patients still sense the world around them,” Hanna pointed out.

“Well,
it’s thoughtful of him to fill in, anyway.”

Hanna
said nothing. It was better for Mary to think that Benny was acting from some
altruistic instinct than to know the truth. Some things didn’t need to be said.

Mary
yawned again. “Charles and I are going to get some shut-eye while Walter is
down for his nap, if that’s okay.”

Hanna
assured her that it was, then took CJ outside to swim. She tried not to think
about Ella, experiencing the world from behind an implacable curtain, or about
Derick’s green eyes, aflame with guilt, or about that horrible article—all her
fault in some way. The sun was beaming down from the cloudless azure sky, but
to Hanna it still felt as if rain was thrashing the ground around her—finding
its way under her skin and breaking down her heart one chunk at a time.

☼

Over
the next few days, Hanna received only one text from Derick—saying that he had
taken the
Laconia
out. Part of her wished he’d taken her with him, but the
other part knew that, even if he’d asked, she would have refused. There was no
way she could let herself off the hook so easily; if Ella was fighting for her
life, the least Hanna could do was deprive herself of the comfort of Derick’s
arms.

Hanna
didn’t miss his stormy eyes, his freckles, or the feel of his skin on hers—she
ached
for them. The way someone who hadn’t eaten in a month might ache for food. The
way an addict might ache during detox.

She
tried to shove the ache to the back of her mind, to shift it to the outskirts
of her heart. Sketching would probably help, but when she rummaged through the
bag she’d taken to Block Island, her notepad wasn’t there. At length she
settled for cleaning the house top to bottom and starting the boys’ laundry.

It was
late afternoon on day four of Ella’s coma, when Benny called from the hospital
to say that she had finally opened her eyes. The Musgroves rushed off to see
her, but Mary was unable to convince Hanna to go along.

About
an hour after they left, Hanna got a call from Charles.

“Hanna,
do you think Sophie could bring you down to the hospital?”

“I’ll
check. Is everything okay?” It wasn’t—she could hear Mary’s unintelligible
blubbering in the background.

“Ella’s
had some memory loss. She doesn’t remember her own name, or any of us. The
doctor thinks that a surge of emotion might jog her memory.”

Hanna
agreed, not thrilled at the prospect of being the cause of said emotion, but
willing to do whatever she could to help. Sophie was called and brought Adam
along when she came to pick Hanna up about five minutes later.

On
entering the recovery room, the first thing Hanna saw was that Ella looked
pretty good—other than bruising around the butterfly tape on her forehead. The
second thing she noticed was Benny sitting protectively beside the patient with
Robinson Crusoe
in his hands.

“Do
you recognize her?” the doctor asked Ella, pointing to Hanna.

Hanna
was scared of what the answer might be, terrified of what might be in Ella’s
eyes when she looked at her. But after a moment Ella just shook her head and
sent a hesitant glance at Benny. “Is she another person I’m supposed to know?”

The
grip on Hanna’s heart loosened. There was nothing like loathing or pain on
Ella’s face.

“She’s
my sister,” Mary said.

“Oh.
Who are you again?”

“My
wife,” Charles offered. “I’m your brother,” he added when there was no
response. “So Hanna is sort of your sister-in-law.”

Ella
took that in with wide eyes.

“What
about these two?” the doctor pressed, indicating Sophie and Adam.

Ella watched
them for a moment before slumping against the pillows in defeat. “I’m sorry, I
just don’t remember.”

“I
think that’s enough for now,” Benny said to the doctor, maintaining his posture
at Ella’s side.

“Yes,
I quite agree. Miss Musgrove needs to rest for a time, so everyone out.”

“But
we’re family—” Mary protested but was silenced by the doctor.

“Not
to her. Not yet. She’s had a trauma, and what she needs more than anything now
is sleep. You’re welcome to return in the morning if you like.”

At the
physician’s declaration, Ella grasped Benny’s sleeve with a desperate look in
her eyes. “Will you stay and read some more?”

Something
danced across Benny’s face, there and gone, like a ghostly ballerina. He shot a
look at the doctor, who inclined his head in agreement, then sank back down in
the chair. Ella’s face relaxed.

The
doctor asked them into the hall to discuss Ella’s prognosis. He called it
“post-traumatic retrograde amnesia” which was a fancy way of saying she hit her
head and couldn’t remember anything before that. There was hope that her memory
would eventually return in full, but it was by no means guaranteed. The doctor
recommended experiences that would stimulate her senses, and in turn, trigger
recognition. The olfactory sense had been found in studies to be extensively
linked to memory. He also warned the family against overwhelming Ella with
their expectations.

When
the doctor offered to answer any questions they might have, Charles said, “How
is it that Ella remembers Benny, but none of us?”

“She
doesn’t remember him. But he was in the room when she woke up, and sometimes
amnesia patients tend to fixate on the first person they come in contact with
after waking from their comas—particularly when there is no pressure to
remember that person. Usually it’s hospital staff or a volunteer, but in this
case it happens to be a family friend. Tell me,” he said, his voice shifting
with curiosity, “has Miss Musgrove spent much time with him in the past?”

“Very
little,” Charles said.

“There’s
no way to know for sure,” Hanna said. After all, Callie had mentioned something
about Benny’s taking them fishing, and he
had
been with Ella when she
returned home before the accident.

“And
didn’t you say that Benny stayed in the room and read to her while she was
unconscious?” Hanna asked Mary. “Maybe she recognized his voice.”

“Sometimes
coma patients have déjà-vu of things that they experienced during
unconsciousness,” said the doctor. “It’s not unheard of.”

“I
think you’re all reading too much into this,” Mary said. “Ella’s obviously not
in her right mind—she didn’t remember the car accident. She kept insisting
she’d been in a shipwreck.”

“
Robinson
Crusoe
,” Hanna said to herself, then spoke up at the questioning looks on
the faces of her audience. “It’s from the book Benny’s been reading her.
Robinson
Crusoe
is about a shipwreck.”

“Huh,”
Charles said.

“Most
interesting,” said the doctor. “Whatever state of mind your sister is in, I
would advise you all to leave her there for the time being.”

As
Hanna and the Musgroves walked out to the car, Mary said to Charles, “You
should call Derick and have him come to the hospital. I bet Ella would
recognize him.”

Hanna
vaguely registered Charles’ disagreeing with his wife, reminding her that the
doctor had said no more visitors for today—but the moment
his
name came
into the conversation, everything else faded away.

Sandwiched
in the backseat of the car between her nephews, Hanna pulled out her phone and
sent Derick a simple text:

She’s
awake.

She
wanted to add
, come home
, but she didn’t.

FORTY

GETAWAY
CAR

But these
measures, however good in themselves, were insufficient for the real extent of
the evil.

—Jane Austen,
Persuasion

When
Hanna’s text came through, Derick was already on his way back to Old Lyme. As soon
as Sophie called with news of Ella’s condition on her way to pick up Hanna, he
pulled up the anchor. Fisher’s Island, the place he’d been for the past couple
days, was only an hour away. In no time at all he was nosing the
Laconia
back into her slip at the dock. With any luck, this whole catastrophe would be
behind them soon.

He was
so excited by the prospect that it took him a second to register the mob of
flashing cameras that was waiting for him at the marina. He had known it was
coming, had been expecting it for days. Ditching the crowd would be a lot
harder from this end of the beach, with no gate to stop their progress. Going
straight home wasn’t an option since they would follow him all the way. Instead
he called Adam to come pick him up in the car. Driving the long way around to
the marina would take several minutes, but it was better than the alternative.

While
he waited, he went back to the
Laconia’
s cockpit and called the team’s
PR guy. “Dammit, Paul! I thought you said you would handle this!”

“I
did! I had a friend of mine give the press a false lead.”

“Where?
Rhode Island?” Derick said with derision.

“No,
Italy.”

“Well,
they didn’t buy it. A pack of paparazzi just showed up at the dock.”