Immediately after my parents leave, several nurses enter the room, with needles in their hands. They take my blood, check my pulse, and talk about me as if I'm not there. It seems like it takes hours for them to finish but finally, the last nurse leaves and I am left alone in my room.
I savor the silence for about thirty seconds before another nurse enters. I recognize her as the one who was there when I woke up. Her name tag reads, "Hi, my name is Tammy."
"Well, that's it! You're all done with blood-taking and pulse-checking!" Tammy tells me. "For now, at least," she adds as a last thought.
I frown. "There's more?" I ask with disbelief.
Tammy chuckles. "Honey, you were just in a coma," she says gently. "We have to make sure your body can function properly before we release you to your family."
My family, I think, remembering the events that occurred earlier in the day.
"Will my family come again today?"
"Yes, I think they said they were going to come back and check on you. Would you like me to tell them not to? If you'd rather have a little peace and quiet, that's okay," Tammy offers.
I'm not sure what to say. I didn't know I could decide whether they came or not. I need to know who I was, I think. And the first step to that is getting to know my family. "No, I want them to come," I say out loud. "Maybe they will help me remember who I am."
Tammy smiles. "I'm glad you're eager to regain your memories, but it may take some time before you feel like Chloe Butler again. Just keep that in mind."
"I will," I promise. I just hope it doesn't take too much time, I think.
* * *
After an hour or two of playing card games with Tammy, my family returns. I can hear them before they even enter the room.
"She just regained consciousness! We need to see Chloe! I will sue if you don't let us in to see her!" my mother's voice echoes down the hall.
My family storms into the room, a nurse close behind them. The nurse looks at Tammy and I, sitting on the end of my bed playing cards.
"You have visitors," he says to me with a weak smile. He mouths to Tammy, "I couldn't stop them; she threatened to sue!"
Tammy shrugs. "The doctors know Chloe's family wants to see her again today," she explains. My mother turns to the male nurse with a triumphant smile.
"Sorry, ma'am," he apologizes as he backs out of the room.
My mother - I can't bring myself to call her Mom, not yet - turns to me. "Hi, Chloe," she greets me cheerfully. "Sorry about that. These nurses..." she drifts off and gives me a look that says "They're just so incompetent!" Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tammy roll her eyes.
"So how were all the tests?" James asks, a mischievous smile playing across his lips.
"Ugh, I hated them! All those needles..." I shudder at the thought of them.
"You never did like shots," my mother says. "When you were little, you would scream and run away at the sight of a needle."
"Even if it was me who had to get the shot," James adds.
"What else did I do? What was I like?" I ask, fascinated. Now we're getting somewhere, I think.
"What are you like," my mother corrects me. "You're still Chloe."
"Not really," I disagree. "I have no idea who Chloe Butler is! Is she a girly-girl or a tomboy? Does she like grape lollipops or cherry? Is she a good student? Does she smoke or do drugs?"
My mother's eyes widen. "Hold on, there, Chloe. I know you don't remember anything, but you're still Chloe to us, is what I meant."
"Somewhere in between, cherry, yes, and no," James supplies helpfully. I blink at him. What is he saying?
"You asked what you were like. You're somewhere in between a girly-girl and a tomboy, you hate grape lollipops, you do good in school..."
"Do well in school," I interrupt.
"That's my girl," my father says, smiling. "And to finish James's answers, no, you've never gotten into trouble. You don't smoke, or do drugs, or drink. You're a good girl."
A good girl, good girl, the words echo in my mind. Something isn't right. I just - I don't think that's right. Maybe there was something I did that I didn't tell them about. A wild party? One cigarette?
"Now, this one over here," my dad continues, throwing his arm around James's shoulders. "He's a load of trouble."
I look to James. He smiles, so I know my father is only joking.
"Any other questions, Chlo?" James asks me.
Ask about Aubrey Patrick, I tell myself. No, Tammy is right there, she'll tell the doctor. I settle on something that I hope will give me the answers I need.
"Who were, I mean, are, my friends? What are their names?" I ask.
My mother starts to list names. "Well, there's Morgan, Ansley, Bridget, Estelle, and Claire. Oh, and you've always been close with your cousin Julia, but I don't think you've talked to her recently."
"Mom, don't forget Liv!" James adds. He turns to me. "Liv is probably the only one of your friends who doesn't get lovey eyes when she sees me." He laughs. "But, hey, who can blame those other girls? Girls are just naturally attracted to me!"
I laugh. James, with his deep tan, chocolate-brown hair, and stunning blue eyes, isn't joking when he says that. I notice that a few young nurses peek in the room at him as they walk by.
"With all the girls fussing over him, you'd think he could find a wife, or even a fiancee," my mother says to me. "But no, James is still single!"
"Hey, now," James protests, putting his hands up in defense. "I'm looking for someone. It's just that no one is quite right for me!"
I motion for my family to come closer. "While you're looking, try checking out one of the nurse's stations; there are some young nurses that keep walking by just to see you one more time!" I whisper dramatically.
James grins. "I'll walk past one on the way out."
"Speaking of which, we'd better get going," my mother says. "I don't want to wear you out too much, Chloe."
I want to insist that I'm not tired, but to be honest, I'm exhausted.
"Okay. See you tomorrow?" I ask.
"Absolutely," my dad replies. They turn to leave the room. As they leave, Tammy suggests that they come during visiting hours tomorrow. My mother nods, but I can tell that she isn't making any promises.
Finally, my father's tall figure disappears from my view and I settle back in bed. Tammy comes over to the bed and straightens my covers.
"Do you still want them to visit tomorrow?" she asks.
"Yes," I say firmly.
"All right, then," Tammy answers. "Just don't get too anxious about your memories..."
"I know, I know."
But how can I not get anxious? I wonder as we start another game of Hearts. This isn't like I've lost a shoe; I've lost my memories!
I promise myself that I will get more answers tomorrow, when my family comes. I begin making a mental list of questions to ask them, starting with:
1. Did I know an Aubrey Patrick?
