She'd opted to wear flip-flops on her feet and toed them off the instant she was in the car, keeping them within reach should she happen to need them.
Other than the dull ache in her temples, she couldn't be more comfortable.
"If you need to stop for any reason just let me know," Ash told her. "And if the driving gets to be too much we'll stop and get a hotel room."
"I'm sure I'll be fine." If it were at all possible, she wished they could drive straight through until they got to San Francisco, but it was a twenty-four-hour trip and she knew Ash would have to sleep at some point. Still, she wanted to stay on the road as long as possible. The sooner they got home, the better. She was convinced that once she was there, surrounded by her own possessions, her memories would begin to return.
Ash turned onto the I-20 on-ramp, hit the gas and zoomed onto the freeway, shooting like a rocket into traffic.
"This is pretty nice for a rental," she told him.
"It's not a rental," he said as he maneuvered left into the fast lane. "This is my car."
His car? "I thought you flew here."
"I did, but I wanted you to be comfortable on the way home so I arranged to have my car brought to Texas. It arrived yesterday morning."
That couldn't have been cheap. She'd never asked Ash about their financial situation, but apparently CFOs at San Francisco ad agencies made decent money.
"It looks expensive," she said. "The car, I mean."
He shrugged. "I like nice cars."
"So I guess you do okay? Financially."
He flashed her a side glance, one of those funny looks that had become so familiar this past week. "Are you asking how much I make?"
"No! Of course not. It's just, well … you wear expensive clothes and drive an expensive car. So I'm assuming you make a decent living, that's all."
"I do okay," he said, a grin kicking up one corner of his mouth, as though the idea of her even asking amused him. And she knew that if she asked exactly how much he made, he would probably tell her. It just wasn't that important.
All that mattered to her was how wonderful he'd been this week. Other than running an occasional errand, or stepping out to pick up food, Ash hadn't left her side. He got there every morning after visiting hours started and didn't leave until they ended at ten. She had been off her feet for so long and her muscles had deteriorated so much that at first walking had been a challenge. Because she was determined to get out of there as soon as humanly possible, Melody had paced, back and forth, up and down the corridors for hours to build her strength. And Ash had been right there by her side.
At first, she'd literally needed him there to hang on to, or to lean on when her balance got hinky. It was frustrating, not being able to do something as simple as taking a few steps unassisted, but Ash kept pumping her full of encouragement and, after the second day, she could manage with only her IV pole to steady her. When they finally removed her IV, she'd been a little wary at first, but realized she was steady enough walking without it. Yesterday she had been chugging along at a pretty good pace when Dr. Nelson came by to let her know she would be released in the morning. He had already discussed her case with a neurologist in San Francisco-one of the best, he said-and Melody would go in to see him as soon as they were home.
Melody's lids started to feel droopy and she realized the pain pills the nurse had given her right before she was discharged were starting to kick in.
Ash must have noticed because he said, "Why don't you put your seat back? It's the lever on the right. And there's a pillow and blanket in the backseat if you need them."
The man thought of everything.
It was plenty warm in the car, even with the air on, but the pillow sounded good. She reclined her seat then grabbed the pillow from the back and tucked it under her head. She sighed and snuggled into the buttery-soft leather, sure that her hospital bed hadn't been half as comfortable. She wanted to stay awake, to keep Ash company, but her lids just didn't want to cooperate, so finally she stopped fighting it and let them close. It couldn't have been ten seconds before she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Six
Melody woke, disoriented and confused, expecting to be in her hospital bed. The she remembered she'd been set free and smiled, even though her head ached so hard she was sure that her eyeballs were going to pop from their sockets.
"Have a good nap?"
She looked over and saw Ash gazing down at her, a bottle of soda in his hand. Only then did she realize they were no longer moving. She rubbed her eyes, giving them a gentle push inward, just in case, and asked, "Why are we stopped?"
"Lunch break."
She looked up and saw that they were parked in a fast-food restaurant lot.
"I was just going in to grab a burger. Do you want anything?"
"No, I'm good. But my head is pounding. What time is it?"
"After three."
She'd been asleep for five hours?
"It's probably the elevation. Do you need a pain pill?"
She nodded, so he opened the glove box and pulled out the prescription they had filled at the hospital pharmacy. "One or two?"
One pill wouldn't put her to sleep, and she would be able to keep Ash company, but gauging the pain in her head, she needed two. "Two, I think."
He tapped them out of the bottle and offered his soda to wash them down. "I'm going in. You sure you don't want anything?"
"I'm sure."
While he was gone she lay back and closed her eyes. She must have drifted off again because when the car door opened, it startled her awake.
Ash was back with a bag of food. He unwrapped his burger in his lap and set his fries in the console cup holder. It wasn't until they were back on the highway, and the aroma permeated the interior, when her stomach started to rumble in protest.
Maybe she was hungry after all. Every time he took a bite her jaw tightened and her mouth watered.
After a while Ash asked, "Is there a reason you're watching me eat?"
She didn't realize how intently she'd been staring. "Um, no?"
"You wouldn't be hungry, would you?" he asked.
She was starving, but she couldn't very well ask him to turn around and go back. "I can wait until the next stop."
"Look in the bag," he told her.
She did, and found another burger and fries inside.
"I kind of figured once you saw me eating you would be hungry, too."
"Just one more reason why I love you," she said, diving into her food with gusto.
She was only able to eat about half, so Ash polished off the rest. When she was finished eating the painkillers had kicked in and she dozed off with her stomach pleasantly full. A few hours later she roused for a trip to the rest stop, and as soon as the car was moving again, promptly fell back to sleep. The next time she opened her eyes it was dark and they were parked in front of an economy hotel. She realized that Ash was standing outside the open passenger door, his hand was on her shoulder, and he was nudging her awake.
"What time is it?" she asked groggily.
"After eleven. We're stopping for the night," he said. "I got us a room."
Thirteen hours down, eleven to go, she thought. Maybe this time tomorrow they would be home.
He helped her out and across the parking lot. All the sleep should have energized her, but she was still exhausted, and her head hurt worse than it had before. Maybe this trip was harder on her system than she realized.
Their bags were already inside and sitting on the bed.
"They didn't have any doubles left and there isn't another hotel for miles," he said apologetically. "If you don't want to share, I can sack out on the floor."
They had shared a bed for three years. Of course, she had no memory of that. Maybe he was worried that she would feel strange sleeping with him until they got to know one another better. Which she had to admit was pretty sweet. It was a little unusual being with him this late at night, since he always left the hospital by ten. But actually, it was kind of nice.
"I don't mind sharing," she assured him.
"How's your head feel?"
She rubbed her left temple. "Like it's going to implode. Or explode. I'm not sure which."
He tapped two painkillers out and got her a glass of water. "Maybe a hot shower would help."
She swallowed them and said, "It probably would."
"You can use the bathroom first."
She stepped in the bathroom and closed the door, smiling when she saw that he'd set her toiletry bag on the edge of the sink. He seriously could not take better care of her.
She dropped her clothes on the mat and blasted the water as hot as she could stand then stepped under the spray. She soaped up, then washed and conditioned her hair, then she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, letting the water beat down on her. When she felt herself listing to one side her eyes flew open and she jerked upright, realizing that she had actually drifted off to sleep.