The Second Mrs Adams. Sandra Marton

he said, “about what happened last night...”

      “I don’t want to talk about it.”

      “No, neither do I. I just want to assure you it won’t happen again.”

      “No,” she said. Her eyes met his. “It won’t.”

      “We’ve both been under a lot of pressure. The accident, your loss of memory...”

      “What about before the accident?”

      “What do you mean?”

      Joanna hesitated. “I get the feeling that we...that we didn’t have a very happy marriage.”

      It was his turn to hesitate now, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie.

      “It was a marriage,” he said finally. “I don’t know how to quantify it.”

      Joanna nodded. What he meant was, no, they hadn’t been happy. It wasn’t a surprise. Her husband didn’t like her very much and she...well, she didn’t know him enough to like him or dislike him, but it was hard to imagine she could ever have been in love with a man like this.

      “Did Dr. Corbett tell you not to discuss our relationship with me? Whether it was good or not, I mean?”

      “No,” he said, this time with all honesty. “I didn’t discuss our marriage with Corbett. Why would I?”

      “I don’t know. I just thought...” She sighed and tugged at the hem of her skirt. Not that there was any reason to. The hem fell well below her knees. “I just thought he might have asked you questions about—about us.”

      “I wouldn’t have answered them,” David said bluntly. “Corbett’s a neurosurgeon, not a shrink.”

      “I know. I guess I’ve just got psychiatry on the brain this morning, considering where we’re going.”

      “Bright Meadows? But I told you, it’s a rehab center.”

      “Oh, I know that. I just can’t get this weird picture out of my head. I don’t know where it comes from but I keep seeing a flight of steps leading up to an old mansion with a nurse standing on top of the steps. She’s wearing a white uniform and a cape, and she has—I know it’s silly, but she has a mustache and buck teeth and a hump on her back.”

      David burst out laughing. “Cloris Leachman!”

      “Who?”

      “An actress. What you’re remembering is a scene from an old movie with Mel Brooks called...I think it was High Anxiety. He played a shrink and she played—give me a minute—she played evil Nurse Diesel.”

      Joanna laughed. “Evil Nurse Diesel?”

      “Uh-huh. We found the movie playing on cable late one night, not long after we met. We both said we didn’t like Mel Brooks’ stuff, slapstick comedy, but we watched for a few minutes and we got hooked. After a while, we were both laughing so hard we couldn’t stop.”

      “Really?”

      “Oh, yeah. We watched right to the end, and then I phoned around until I found an all-night place to order pizza and you popped a bottle of wine into the freezer to chill and then...” And then I told you that I loved you and asked you to be my wife.

      “And then?”

      David shrugged. “And then, we decided we’d give Mel Brooks’ movies another chance.” He cleared his throat. “It’s got to be a good sign, that you remembered a movie.”

      She nodded. “A snippet of a movie, at least.”

      “Anyway, there’s nothing to worry about.” He reached out and patted her hand. “Believe me, you’re not going to find anything like that waiting for you at Bright Meadows.”

      

      She didn’t.

      There was no nurse with a mustache and too many teeth waiting at the top of the steps. There were no dreary corridors or spaced-out patients wandering the grounds.

      Instead, there was an air of almost manic cheer about the place. The receptionist smiled, the admitting nurse bubbled, the attendant who led them to a private, sun-drenched room beamed with goodwill.

      “I just know you’re going to enjoy your stay with us, Mrs. Adams,” the girl said.

      She sounds as if she’s welcoming me to a hotel, Joanna thought. But this isn’t a hotel, it’s a hospital, even if nobody calls it that, and I’m not sick. I just can’t remember anything...

      No. She couldn’t think about that or the terror of it would rise up and she’d scream.

      And she couldn’t do that. She’d kept the fear under control until now, she hadn’t let anyone see the panic that woke her in the night, heart pounding and pillow soaked with sweat.

      Joanna turned toward the window and forced herself to take a deep, deep breath.

      “Joanna?” David looked at the straight, proud back. A few strands of dark hair had come loose; they hung down against his wife’s neck. He knew Joanna would fix it if she knew, that she’d never tolerate such imperfection. Despite the straightness of her spine, the severity of her suit, the tumble of curls lent her a vulnerability. He thought of how she’d once been...of how she’d once seemed.

      All right, he knew that what she’d seemed had been a lie, that she wasn’t the sweet, loving wife he’d wanted, but even so, she was in a tough spot now. It couldn’t be easy, losing your memory.

      He crossed the room silently, put his hands on her shoulders. He felt her jump beneath his touch and when he turned her gently toward him and she looked up at him, he even thought he saw her mouth tremble.

      “Joanna,” he said, his voice softening, “look, if you don’t like this place, I’m sure there are others that—”

      “This is fine,” she said briskly.

      He blinked, looked at her again, and knew he’d let his imagination work overtime. Her lips were curved in a cool smile and her eyes were clear.

      David’s hands fell to his sides. Whatever he’d thought he’d seen in her a moment ago had been just another example of how easily he could still be taken in, if not by his wife then by his own imagination.

      “I’m sure I’m going to like it here,” she said. “Now, if you don’t mind terribly, I really would like to take a nap.”

      “Of course. I’d forgotten what an exhausting day this must have been for you.” He started for the door. Halfway there, he paused and swung toward her. “I, uh, I’m not quite certain when I’ll be able to get to see you again.”

      “Don’t worry about it, David. This is a long way to come after a day’s work and besides, I’m sure I’ll be so busy I won’t have time for visitors.”

      “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

      Joanna smiled. “Safe trip home,” she said.

      She held the smile until the door snicked shut after him. Then it dropped from her lips and she buried her face in her hands and wept.

      Until today, she’d thought nothing could be as awful as waking up and remembering nothing about your life.

      Now, she knew that it was even more horrible to realize that you were part of a loveless marriage.

      

      “Mr. Adams?”

      David looked up. He’d had his nose buried in a pile of reports he’d dredged out of the briefcase he always kept near at hand until the voice of his chauffeur intruded over the intercom.

      “What is it, Hollister?”

      “Sorry to bother you, sir, but I just caught a report on the radio about an overturned tractor trailer near the tunnel