FINDERS KEEPERS

Carl, not Jacob. She simply had to remember he was now a man with a real identity and a real life. Gone forever was the individual he?d created within the confines of the clinic. She?d watched him bloom during rehab; he?d been the breath of fresh air they?d all needed. So it had hurt to watch him mourn something he couldn?t remember. Despite her misgivings, she could not have kept him with her any longer.

"I?m sorry Dr. Seagrave, but Mr. Hutchins is with the children at the moment. He asked me to show you to the living room." Jules nodded and followed the woman who?d introduced herself as Claudia through a maze of passageways. In the dim light she caught glimpses of artwork and family mementos mixed together on the walls. She had to admit the woman had taste.

She caught sight of a grand staircase as they emerged in the foyer. Pausing, Jules sniffed the gorgeous flower arrangement on the hall table. Fake, but beautiful nonetheless.

"You may wait here." Claudia motioned her into the living room. "Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you."

Once alone, Jules looked the room over with a critical eye. It was homey, well lived in. Formal enough for Bay City society yet able to accommodate growing children comfortably. She ran a hand along the curve of the piano and paused to look at a group of photos. Smiling, unfamiliar faces stared back at her. She wondered which of those faces had missed him during his absence. Had they grieved for him the way she had after setting him off in the Keys? She?d walked around for days afterward in a haze, clutching her lone photo of Jacob to her heart like a schoolgirl.

Carl. "His name is Carl," she repeated under her breath.

Moving to the edge of the sofa she smoothed her silk skirt and needlessly tidied her hair. Exhaling nervously, she snatched a magazine from the coffeetable. "Brava. Never heard of it," she mumbled and put it back. The tension in her tummy tightened in anticipation. If only she hadn?t lied.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," his voice boomed from the foyer, making her jump. "Startled you did I?" he asked, grinning ear to ear.

"Somewhat," she croaked. Standing, she took in his appearance. Black wool slacks and matching turtleneck set off the flowing white hair that streamed unfettered down his back. As always his snowy beard was impeccably groomed. Not for the first time she was glad she?d suggested it.

"What? Did I miss some finger-paint?"

"No, no. I?m just remembering," she covered, embarrassed at having been caught.

"The good old days, eh?"

"Absolutely."

"Some of them were. Are you hungry?"

"Starving, but I was just in your kitchen and there?s not a thing on the range." She followed his retreating form as quickly as she could.

"That?s because I?m your chef tonight," he said over his shoulder. He waited for her at the top of the stairs. "Rachel has yet to make it home, but that simply gives us more time to become reacquainted. Do you feel like assisting tonight my dear? Fortunately I?ve become more proficient and there?s little chance we?ll burn the kitchen down this time."

"Jacob," she began only to catch herself. Exasperated, she sighed. "We need to get this out of the way. In this place, you are Carl. But I know you only as Jacob. Which do I need to call you? I have to admit I?m having trouble with the name Carl."

"I didn?t care for it myself." He stopped. "There are things about my time at the clinic of which Rachel knows nothing. I have neither volunteered the information nor has she pressed me for it. For reasons all my own, I would appreciate it if she didn?t learn them just yet." Carl squeezed her hand and smiled reassuringly. "I don?t mind the name Jacob."

"Okay. Jacob." She smiled as he moved away and began flipping through cabinets. Jules could keep his secret. Their secret. Especially when he asked so nicely.

Rachel threw papers into her briefcase well aware she was late for dinner. She was supposed to have been home more than two hours ago helping Carl quiet the grubs and cook dinner. But first there?d been the meeting with Accounting. Then a problem in Shipping and another in Sales. Not to mention the trouble with the Book Division. With a sigh Rachel clamped the case shut and headed for the door. Hopefully she?d be home in time for dessert.

"You still haven?t told me why you are in Bay City."

His question startled Jules from her contemplation of his hands. He moved so easily in the kitchen, enjoying the act of creating. From chopping to measuring to keeping track of the simmering pots, he was a natural in a world she avoided. Personally, she couldn?t abide working in the kitchen. However, she could watch him all night.

"Have you always been so forthright?" she asked.

"Rachel tells me I?ve always been to the point in my dealings with others. She told me I never shied away from speaking my mind. Of course, when I returned I wasn?t sure of my place so I was frank in a rather timid way. Didn?t wish to rock the boat, step on the familial toes. I had to come out of that quickly." He peered into a pot as he slowly stirred its contents. "I am not the man I was before the surgery."

"And that bothers you?"

"Of course. In my hospital bed I would lie awake and imagine my life. Who I was, what sort of person I had been, all those components of my life were left to my imagination. Then you helped me find Rachel and with her I began putting myself back together."

Jules didn?t miss the sadness in his voice. "But it?s not enough."

"No, no. Rachel and the grubs are my world. Without them I am meaningless. It?s just that the memories are not what I expected."

"I thought your memory was returning at a remarkable rate? Director Thacker told me so just last month."

"It has, but not the way I hoped it would. I?ve learned memory is tricky. Some are vividly detailed and involve all my senses. Others are merely that ? memories. Memories without anything to accompany them."

"Not very satisfying I take it."

"It?s damn annoying! It is as though a movie is playing in my head in which I am the star. I watch myself, yet I do not receive any of the emotions. Someone can tell you about your past, but if you?ve lost the firsthand experience of it, you feel half alive."

Jules watched his shoulders slump in defeat. As always with him, she felt a confusing array of emotions. Though she was grateful the procedure she developed had saved him, the fact that it had stolen his life angered her.

"We didn?t know what would happen with this procedure." Her forehead wrinkled as she pinched her nose. "As you know, you are my first success. Since the day you woke from your coma it?s been a game of wait and see. Those days following the surgery were tense and we had no idea if you?d even be cognizant. But, you floored us. If only we?d considered the consequences."

"John Doe survives but loses himself in the process. The world is different when you are the ?medical miracle? on the nightly news."

Jules sighed. "I should never have let you go. You weren?t ready." She moved to his side and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "You needed to stay at the clinic longer. Perhaps a little more counseling, more therapy. After all, YOU were my first."

"You didn?t believe me ready?"

His hurt tone tore at her. "I did at the time."

"However, you are now thinking differently. Do you find my return to society unacceptable? Or are you merely afraid of the medical consequences?"

"I didn?t say that! I should have studied the affects of the surgery a bit longer. Helped you prepare."

"You, more than anyone, made my survival possible. No man could have a better friend. I?ve never had a better friend. At least one I can remember," he chuckled.

"Our relationship has defied the patient-doctor definition from the very beginning. The line between us has never been a very clear one, but I want to be both to you now. If you?ll let me, I want to be here for you. I came to Bay City for you."

Her words puzzled him. "To help with my recovery?"

"Yes," she admitted and mentally crossed her fingers. Where this was coming from she had no idea. "Due to a generous donation from a former patient," she looked at him pointedly, "they have allowed me to follow said star patient and continue monitoring his progress. Once I am satisfied, then the report will be written for all the world to read."

"I am why you?re here?"

"You, and the further development of the procedure. Before you it was considered too radical. Now it appears as though it could be a viable option for some patients." Jules plopped down at the table. "All I need is your approval."

Carl didn?t answer at first but went about setting the table around her. She knew she was taking a chance telling the tall-tale, but now that she was within reach of her heart?s desire there was no turning back.

Planting himself next to her he gave her the dazzling smile she?d missed. "How can I not help the woman who gave me back my life?"

Jules broke into her own smile. "You won?t regret this, I promise."

"Is everything set with BCUH? They must be thrilled to have such an incredible physician as yourself on their roster."

"They?re very pleased," Jules answered uneasily, hoping he missed the hesitation in her voice. "What about your wife? Are we not waiting for her."

"She works late some nights. We could wait, but I am famished."

He sat across from her and her tummy flipped. The appetizing aroma was making her mouth water. Poor Rachel, she thought, you have no idea what you are missing.

Slamming the car into park Rachel cursed and checked her watch. 11:15. A stream of expletives that would shock the most hardened soul spewed forth from her dainty mouth. For more than two hours she?d sat in traffic. Unable to go forward or backward or anywhere for that matter, she?d been reduced to watching the precious minutes tick away. If only she?d left earlier, she?d have been home with her family and Julie.

With a final push Rachel was through the mansion?s rear entrance. Careful to lock the door behind her, she walked through to the kitchen. No one. Disappointed, she placed her things on the table. Checking in the fridge she found the carefully wrapped leftovers left by her sweet husband.

Kicking her shoes into the breakfast alcove, Rachel made her way upstairs without turning on a light. Checking the grubs first, she found them asleep. Not wanting to wake them she slinked down the hallway to her room. One of the bedside lamps was on, casting her loving husband in warm light. He wore his dark brown pajamas and the volume of poetry she?d given him for Christmas was draped across his chest. He presented an inviting picture and all she wanted was to crawl next to him and fall asleep.

"Care to join me?" he asked, voicing her thoughts with a sleep-tinged drawl. Without a word she crossed the room, removed the book and scrambled atop him.

"Your presence was sorely missed this evening my darling. I worried as well, but I knew you were fine." His arms locked around her as he kissed her. "We waited as long as we could."

"Tonight has been one long string of terrible coincidences. All I?ll say is I hate traffic." Rachel wiggled against him. "I wish I could stay like this all night."

"But you have paperwork."

"Paperwork and an early meeting and a very empty stomach."

"Would you like me to stay up with you?"

"Un-uh. I won?t be long." Kissing him on the lips she rose to change into pajamas. As she undressed, his eyes followed her every move. "Like to watch do you?" she teased.

"Only you my darling, only you."