One of the machines beside the bed began to beep.
A rattling sound drew Lisa’s attention to the door of the small room. The knob turned.
Lisa hastily drew both sides of her gown together and yanked up the covers.
The door swung open, and a nurse in dark blue scrubs entered. She looked to be in her late forties and was tall, her weight average. Her dark blond hair was peppered with hints of gray and pulled back in an untidy twist.
“Oh. You’re awake.” She smiled as the door swung shut behind her.
“What’s happening?” Lisa blurted. “Where am I?”
The nurse held up a hand. “Easy,” she said softly. “You’re in the hospital. Try not to get upset. It isn’t good for the baby.”
“What baby?” Lisa came close to shouting. “I’m not pregnant.”
The woman’s gaze dropped to her belly. “I hate to tell you this, hon, but it’s a little late for you to be in denial.”
Lisa shook her head. “I’m not in denial. I can’t be pregnant. It’s not possible.”
The woman’s brow furrowed. Approaching the bed, she touched Lisa’s wrist and examined one of the machines. “Try to calm down. The more you wake up, the less hazy things will seem.”
“Hazy?” Lisa parroted in disbelief. “Try impossible! I’m telling you, I can’t be pregnant!”
The woman released her wrist. “You don’t remember?”
“Remember what? Getting pregnant? I’m pretty damn sure I would remember that.”
The nurse shook her head. “The accident.” Pulling a light out of her pocket, she leaned forward and shined it first in Lisa’s left eye, then the right.
“What accident?”
“You and your husband were in an accident. A teenager was texting and…”
All the breath left Lisa’s body. Her pulse pounded so loudly in her ears that she couldn’t hear whatever else the woman was droning on about. “Husband?” she blurted.
The nurse broke off and stared at her. “Yes.”
“I’m not married.” Nor was she pregnant. She couldn’t be. But the big belly that was shoving her enlarged breasts up into her throat seemed determined to prove otherwise.
The nurse sent her a sad look. “Oh dear. We had hoped there would be no lasting damage, but…”
“But what?”
“Maybe you should wait and speak with the doctor.”
“Screw that. Tell me yourself.”
“You suffered a traumatic head injury. Though we’d hoped otherwise, it seems to have impaired your memory.”
Lisa shook her head. This wasn’t happening. “What husband?”
“Bradley Sykes.”
And the shocks kept coming. “Brad? From the Anomalous Cognition Research Institute?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know where he worked.”
Lisa pounced on the word. “Worked? As in past tense?”
“Yes.” The nurse patted Lisa’s forearm. “I’m sorry, honey. He didn’t make it.”
Her heart clenched. “Brad is dead?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry. The doctors did everything they could to save your husband, but—”
“This isn’t right. There’s been some kind of mistake. A colossal mistake. Because Brad can’t be dead. I can’t be married to him. And I sure as hell can’t be pregnant!”
The nurse studied her for a moment, then reached over and pulled the covers down to Lisa’s thighs.
“What are you doing?” Lisa wore no underwear and yanked the covers back up to cover her lap when the woman tugged the hospital gown panels aside to expose her big belly.
Retrieving the stethoscope from around her neck, the woman put the earpieces in her ears. While Lisa watched, the bitter taste of fear filling her mouth, the nurse placed the cold bell on Lisa’s tummy and began slowly moving it around. She paused, listened for a moment, then nodded. Keeping the bell in place, she tugged the earpieces out of her ears and held them out to Lisa. “Here.”
Lisa hesitated a moment, then took them. As soon as she placed them in her ears, she heard it—a low, rapid heartbeat. Moisture gathered in her eyes as she listened. The skin on her belly was stretched taut. A weird line ran down the center of it, almost like a faint pink crease. And her innie belly button was now almost flat.
“This isn’t happening,” she whispered hoarsely. Tears spilled over her lashes and raced down her cheeks. “This can’t be real.”
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said quietly. “But it is.”
Her mind racing, Lisa shook her head. “What’s today’s date?”
The nurse told her.
Seven months since she had turned in her Biology II final. “How far along is the pregnancy?”
“Seven months.”
Again she shook her head. There was just no way. It didn’t make sense. She would’ve had to get pregnant that same day. But Lisa didn’t have one-night stands. She didn’t sleep with guys on the first date or the second or the third. She was shy by nature and had been out of the dating loop for so long that she had to work her way up to that kind of intimacy. And the fact that she was self-conscious about her skinny, less than lush figure made it even harder. Hell, it had taken her almost two months to sleep with Phil, a customer who frequented the bookstore she worked at, after her mom died. And she had not enjoyed it. So no way in hell would she just suddenly jump into bed with Brad no matter how nice he was or how comfortable she felt around him.
“How long have I been married?”
“Five and a half months.”
Which implied she had married him as soon as she found out she was pregnant.
Even if she had done something completely contrary to her nature—gotten drunk and had a one-night stand with Brad—she wouldn’t have married him as soon as she found out she was pregnant.
Doubt rose. Would she?
She thought about it a moment.
No. She’d had too many friends over the years whose parents had gone through bitter divorces. She wouldn’t have risked marrying a man she didn’t love. And even though Brad was attractive, she had never felt that kind of spark with him.
The nurse smiled and patted Lisa’s arm, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I can see you need some time to adjust. I’ll be back with lunch in an hour.” She headed for the door. “Oh. And your physical therapist will stop by soon to help you.”
Lisa frowned. “Help me with what?”
“We’ve been using neuromuscular electrical stimulation to prevent the muscle atrophy prolonged immobility can cause. Your physical therapist will want to evaluate the effectiveness of the treatment and your mobility.” Without another word, she opened the door and slipped out into the hallway.
“Wait. What hospital is this?” Lisa called after her.
The door closed.
There were no windows in the room to help her determine where exactly she was. Nor was there a telephone.
She stared down at her belly.
It just didn’t make sense.
Two days later, it still didn’t make sense. Lisa slowly paced the confines of her small room. Apparently the neuromuscular electrical whatever they’d used on her while she was in the coma had worked. Though weak, she had no difficulty walking. She just tired quickly.