Accidental Family. Joan Elliott Pickart

his hands as a construction worker might,” the doctor said. “All right, let’s recap what we know. The driver’s license in your wallet, David, was a temporary one, indicating you probably moved recently and applied for a license with your change of address. The fact that we got your telephone number from the new listings operator strengthens that fact. But where you moved from, we don’t know.

      “We can surmise that you relocated approximately a month or so ago because that’s when you enrolled your daughter in day care. Did you move across town? From somewhere else in California? Or from the other end of the country?”

      “Damned if I know,” David said wearily.

      “You left your previous employment,” Dr. Hill went on, “as evidenced by the lack of information on the day-care application and you saying you’d provide the data later. You’re either looking for work, or a position is being held for you somewhere here in Ventura.”

      “But wouldn’t the company be attempting to find him?” Patty said.

      “Not if he arrived in town early to get settled in,” Dr. Hill said. “The address on your driver’s license is for a very affluent part of town. Whatever you do is lucrative.”

      “Maybe I’m a hitman,” David said, then his eyes began to drift closed.

      “He’s exhausted,” Patty said. “I’d best be going.”

      David’s eyes flew open. “No, wait. What about my daughter? What’s going to happen to Sarah Ann?”

      “She’ll stay with me until you’re released from the hospital,” Patty said.

      “I can’t ask you to do that.”

      “Do you have a better idea?” Patty said. “You have to trust me, David, know that I’ll give Sarah Ann the very best of care. I’ll keep her home with us rather than take her to the Fuzzy Bunny so she can play with Tucker. I’ll tell her that you have a boo-boo and will see her as soon as you can. I repeat…do you have a better idea?”

      “No,” David said quietly. “No, I don’t. I have to get out of this place. I have responsibilities. A child, a home, maybe a job I’m supposed to report to. Ah, hell, I hate this. I can’t live this way. Doc, fix me.”

      Dr. Hill chuckled. “Patience, patient. Amnesia takes its own sweet time. Besides, we’re keeping that leg elevated for the next several days to be assured there’s no infection brewing before we fit you with a walking cast. You’re stuck in that bed for now, David.”

      “And I’m tending to your daughter,” Patty said, getting to her feet. “Sarah Ann is going to need clothes, though. I’m a member of a huge extended family with oodles of kids. Someone surely has clothes to fit her.”

      “No, that’s not necessary,” David said. “The keys that were in my now-totaled vehicle are in the drawer there. Go to my house and get Sarah Ann what she needs.”

      “I wouldn’t be comfortable going into your home, David.”

      “But maybe she has a favorite toy she’ll suddenly realize isn’t with her, or a blanket she usually sleeps with or something,” David said. “She needs her own things around her. She needs her father, too, but… Hell.”

      “I agree with David,” Dr. Hill said. “Sarah Ann is caught up in the adventure of being at your house at the moment, but from what you’re saying she and David are very close. I think it would be best that she at least have clothes and toys that are familiar to her until she can be united with the person who is the center of her existence.”

      “Well, all right,” Patty said. “I’ll go to the house and get her some things. I’ll call you here tomorrow, David, and see how you’re doing. Maybe I should have you talk to Sarah Ann on the phone.”

      “Good idea,” Dr. Hill said. “She’s too young to be allowed to visit here in the hospital, but hearing her father’s voice might be reassuring.” He glanced at his watch. “I have an appointment. David, take a nap. Patty, it was a real pleasure meeting you. David and Sarah Ann are very fortunate to have you in their lives during this crisis.”

      Dr. Hill hurried from the room.

      A sudden and heavy silence fell over the room, and Patty became acutely and uncomfortably aware that she was alone with David Montgomery.

      Not that David Montgomery knew that he was David Montgomery, per se, nor did he have a clue that he had made hearts go pitter-patter each morning when he’d brought Sarah Ann into the Fuzzy Bunny. Well, not her heart, of course, but Susan certainly worked herself into a dither when she saw him and…

      “Patty?”

      Patty jerked at the unexpected sound of David’s deep, rumbly voice.

      “Hmm? Yes? What?” she said.

      “I just wanted to say how grateful I am that you’re taking care of my daughter. There really aren’t words to express my gratitude.” David paused and frowned. “I wish I knew what Sarah Ann looks like so I could picture her in my mind. And where is her mother? Maybe Sarah Ann is with me because it’s my turn to have her according to a visitation schedule of a divorce.”

      “Maybe,” Patty said, nodding slowly.

      “Do you think it would be appropriate to ask a three-year-old about her mother? You know, ‘So, Sarah Ann, where’s your mom, honey?’”

      “Well, sure,” Patty said. “If the opportunity presented itself so it could be done smoothly without Sarah Ann feeling as though she’s being grilled or something. I’ll try to do that but I can’t promise anything.”

      “Fair enough,” David said, then yawned. “Excuse me. It’s not the company. I’m just wiped out.”

      “Dr. Hill said you should take a nap,” Patty said. “I’ll be on my way.”

      “The keys to the house are in that drawer there.”

      “Oh, yes.” Patty opened the drawer and removed a key chain. “Vehicle, house,” she said, looking at the keys. “I remember your address so I’m all set.”

      “They told me my SUV is totaled. Some guy ran a red light and smashed right into me. I don’t remember anything about that. Hell, I don’t remember anything about anything. Dr. Hill said I shouldn’t try to force my memory to return, but it’s so frustrating not to know…. Enough of my complaining.”

      “Sometimes,” Patty said softly, “things happen in our lives that we wish we could remove from our memory bank because they’re so painful and… I’m not saying I’d like to have total amnesia like you have. That must be so frightening, so awful. But I wouldn’t mind erasing some events. You know, like chalk from a blackboard.”

      “Your husband…ex-husband hurt you very much, didn’t he?” David said, looking directly at her.

      “Well, that’s another story,” she said. “The issue at the moment is that you’re going to take a nap and I am off to collect the children, then go to your house to get your daughter some clothes and toys. I’m still not that comfortable about going into your home but… I’ll speak with you soon, David.”

      “Thank you again. Don’t give another thought to going into the house. I’m trusting you with my daughter so I’m sure not going to worry about the material things in my house. You don’t look like a hardened criminal who’s going to rob me blind anyway.”

      Patty smiled. “No, I’m not. Well, goodbye for now.”

      “Bye,” David said, then watched as Patty crossed the room and disappeared from view.

      He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would give him a break from the physical pain he was in and from the emotional distress of having no memory, no sense of who he was, or what kind of a man he was.

      Patty said he was a wonderful father. That was nice to