Page 8 of When Forever Stays

Rhett interrupts him, “I want her here.”

Dr. Woodhouse nods in acknowledgment, then takes a few more moments to check through Rhett’s paperwork. He looks Rhett over and jots down some notes in the chart. “Well, you don’t need me to tell you you’re banged up, but I’m happy to report you don’t have any broken bones. Your concussion is concerning, but you could have gotten into a lot more danger out in those waves.” He clicks his tongue. “I will never understand why people surf alone.”

“Trust me, I won’t make that mistake again.” Rhett motions for me to come closer and then takes my hand. “I’m just grateful Dana found me.”

Dr. Woodhouse raises a brow but stays quiet. After he finishes his assessment, he says, “Tell me exactly what happened today.”

Before Rhett can answer, Nurse McFlirtly rolls a cart into the room with thread, needles, and other supplies. Dr. Woodhouse thanks her, and she scurries out the door.

Dr. Woodhouse sits on his stool and rolls over with the cart. “Now tell me exactly what happened.”

Rhett and I team up and give him a play-by-play of everything that transpired, from me finding Rhett on the beach to our arrival at the hospital. As we talk, Dr. Woodhouse stitches up Rhett’s bicep. He places a bandage over the raw skin, snaps off his gloves, and tosses them in the trash.

He jots something else down in Rhett’s paperwork.

“You’re a lucky man,” Dr. Woodhouse says.

Rhett is silent for a long moment as he stares into space as if lost in thought. “I don’t believe in luck. I believe in God, and God set this plan in motion for a purpose. He’s the One who protected me and brought me to shore instead of further out to sea.”

Excited, I ask, “Are you getting your memories back?”

“No. I just know God is a crucial part of my life.”

“That’s a promising sign,” Dr. Woodhouse says, scribbling more in Rhett’s chart before sticking the pen back in his pocket. “I hope to see you in church this Sunday, then.”

Rhett nods. “I’d like to be there.”

Dr. Woodhouse declares Rhett safe to go home.

“Dana, can I speak to you for a minute?” Dr. Woodhouse asks, then pulls me out into the hall and pulls Rhett's door closed.

“I’d prefer if he stayed with someone, at least overnight. All his test results look good, but his amnesia and the concussion are concerning. I want to make sure his symptoms don’t worsen over the next couple of days. Would you be able to take him in?”

"It’s not that I don’t want to help him, but do you think it’s appropriate? What kind of example would I be setting for the teenage girls in my group if they found out a man I’m not married to is staying with me?” I fiddle with my necklace, running the pendant back and forth on the chain. My heart races as I imagine Rhett sleeping in the room across from mine.

“Then you tell them about the Good Samaritan.” When I give him a disbelieving look, he adds, “It’s late. I’m not sure where else he could stay.”

Dr. Woodhouse is right. It’s after midnight and the only other person who could potentially take Rhett and is still awake is Crew, and he’s only awake because he’s on a shift at the fire station.

I release a resigned sigh. “I’ll talk to Crew. He’s on shift right now, but maybe he can come over after he gets off.” I’m already dreading the conversation. I made the mistake of spilling my history with Rhett during one of my low points. Needless to say, Crew has some strong feelings toward Rhett.

Dr. Woodhouse shrugs nonchalantly. “If Crew says no, at least you know you tried. In the morning, call my wife, and explain the situation so it doesn’t look like you were trying to hide anything. I’ll talk to her when I get home too.” As the women’s ministryleader of our church, Nancy is who I need to speak to if I want to keep all of this above reproach.

That gives me an idea. “Maybe someone from church is still awake.”

Dr. Woodhouse releases an uncomfortable laugh. “I hate to break it to you, but most of the congregation’s bedtime was hours ago.”

“Can’t he stay here for one night?” I plead.

“Dana, taking in a man in need for one night isn’t going to ruin your reputation or set a poor example for your small group girls. Especially if you have Crew come and stay after his shift.”

I check the time and breathe a sigh of relief. Crew gets off in less than an hour.

I rest my hands on my hips and straighten my spine. “Fine. Rhett can stay with me, and I’ll have Crew spend the night too.”

He gives me a triumphant smile. “I knew we could work this out.” Something passes over his expression, and he says, "If you have time over the next few days, take Rhett to places he frequented. Maybe see if you can meet up with some of his previous coworkers. It may help trigger a memory.”

I chew the inside of my cheek, trying to rein in my tumbling emotions. Yes, I’m very much drawn to Rhett. But the pain his abandonment brought on is still strong. The empathetic part of me wants to help Rhett get his memories back. But the bitter part of me wants to wash my hands of him.

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