He was a stranger. Everyone was a stranger, Angela, the kids, Grace’s friends over the phone, the personnel attending to her. But, watching Doctor Dave run into the room mindlessly draining coffee from his cup—his face still telling how much sleep he needed— unashamedly worried for her, taking her side. She felt like he was her stranger.

He had left late last night, and promised to check on Angela and the kids. Grace didn’t know where Angela lived, but Dave promised he could contact the girl if he took a deep dive on Facebook armed with a surname the girl had provided the last time she was at the nursing station asking if she could see Grace. And he did found her after thirty minutes, there she was in a profile picture with the little boy she came with earlier that day...

He walked in, looked at the screen of the monitor and nodded. “hey stranger.” He said smiling.

“good morning to you too.” She replied, tired, but in a better mood.

“I’d get one for you, but I’m guessing you’d like to sleep soon enough.” He said, gesturing at the coffee container that had ‘Dave’ printed on, “but while the orderly is getting your order for breakfast, I brought some chips, and granola bars, French fries.” He said, lifting the polybag containing the stuffs he listed to her face. “had to pull string to get this one.” He placed the bag on top of the cabinet and brought two granola bars, he unwrapped one and handed the second to her, “I brought you Pepsi instead.” He brought the can out and gave it to her. She relished the rich blend, the fruity sweetness that filled her mouth. “it’s the good stuff right?” Dave asked, watching her face, lips tugged to a corner in unsure amusement. She rolled her eyes.

“it’s okay.” She shrugged. After swallowing. It was glorious. But she made it sound like it was passable.

“how are you feeling?” he asked after an uncomfortable silence when he distracted himself with the monitor screen again, mindlessly munching. For a guy who seemed quite fond of junk food, he seemed in good shape. She decided not to mention it. He is a stranger, who gives off a flirtatious vibe. She wouldn’t want to poke the bear.

“better.” The pain had lessened, maybe because of the pain meds or the titanium bar lodged in her thigh bone, but she felt better. And having Dave’s company made it a whole more so. Interrupting the gossips that echoed from the nursing station when it all goes quiet.

Her friends had called, most insistent of them was a man called Raymond who sounds nothing but worried sick, and chirpy Susan who couldn’t wait to hop on a plane and make it to the country, she would arrive today being the day after her surgery. They were more than she could handle, and though they meant well, they made her head ache, all dotting, and worrying and asking questions, adjusting their schedules just to hop on a plane and make it back.

Grace refused to see anyone, the day before, when the neurosurgeon told her that it was an option. Besides, it was the day of her surgery. It afforded her some silence to think into the yawning emptiness of her memory, and wonder what her life had been like while she shirks in trepidation of what remained to be revealed.

“how are the kids?” she had asked Angela. The girl only reply was that they are fine, she wanted to ask if they were hers after a long silence but the girl decided to go into details about how Jesse is worried sick that he was responsible for the accident—apparently she had pushed him out of the road to save him at her own detriment—and how Victor is surprisingly not making such a fuss. “I keep telling them aunty Grace will be alright, she’d be home soon. My parents wanted me to bring the kids to our house, makes it easier.” She said, “if you’ll allow?”

She felt like the wrong person to make decisions as to the whereabouts of the kids, “I’m sure it would be fine,” her reply was more out of consideration for the girl and the kids, than a certainty that it was the better choice. Beside what choice was there? accommodate them with her broken leg, a throbbing headache, pretending to recognise them? She couldn’t remember Angela’s parent, but the parent of the girl that had been the only one taking care of the children—which as she gleaned, were not hers, thank God! —couldn’t be a wrong choice. “tell them I’m grateful.” She said.

The brief visit from Angela ended when the neurology team came in. Then the orthopaedics team came in to prep her for surgery. “nobody told me about this before.” She was shocked, when they told her that the best option for a repair was putting a metal rod into her thigh bone. It sounded dangerous, at the very least unnatural. There she was staring befuddled at the face of the impatient bald man who made a point of telling his team how rapid his flight was to the country just to attend to Grace’s –air quote—special case. “he’s the best.” Dave assured her, when they had all gone having half convinced half coerced her into signing a consent form. They meant well, obviously, but that’s how it felt.

“I’m serious.” He said in response to her raised brow and pensive sigh. He sat by her, there was something about his free disposition, sitting on the bed for example, that made her wonder. “he’s a bit of,” he tilted his head sideways, “heady and pompous, but if I ever had a fracture again,” his voice was low again, he talked slower in a way she found both engaging and exciting, “in this country, he’s the one I’d rather fix me up.”

“you’ve had this kind of procedure before?” she asked, hated the helplessness in her voice, but not as much as she hated having the world of the ortho team watch with googled eyes, mindless clacking at computer screen, or writing case notes like she was some sort of science experiment.

Dave nodded with a smile, “I was nineteen, and…” he looked her in the eye, like it was supposed to tell her something she couldn’t catch, then sighed, “I was running after this girl down some stairs…” he laughed, when she rolled her eyes, “I was an idiot in love.” He said, “then my leg broke.”

She laughed. It had to be the silliest story. But he was serious. After a pause, in which she realised it was likely true. He nodded, “I couldn’t believe it too, but I had osteosarcoma,” she guessed it was as bad as it sounded, “…a tumour in my shin bone, it made it fragile, so it broke.” There was something serious in his voice, and a faraway look in his eyes that drained the scepticism of it all from her mind so she could see how they were making the best choice for her. “so I needed to have surgery, I was scared, but I eventually had the surgery,” his smile was weak, “that and chemotherapy, lots of chemo, lost me my dreads. But then here I am. With nothing but a scar and a little limp.”

Lie or not, the limp was there if you looked close enough. That was true. He had turned what should look like some sort of deformity into a bounce. He had the air of some fighter, the height, body, and jaws to match.  There was intelligence behind those eyes, and some fire too. The timbre of his voice as he told the story, carried with a rumbling that shook her to the bone, weirdly in a good way, reassuring. She could look at that face forever, but she always tried not to stare too long enough, she’s pathetic enough without being clingy.

When the orderly came to wheel her to the operating room, she wanted to ask if Dave would be there too. “will you…?” looking at his tired eyes and how he had hovered since dawn, whether it was his fault or not she wasn’t so sure she wanted to bother him unnecessarily. He still wore the T-shirt and jeans from the night before, looked like he could use a break, a bath, and a shave. “never mind.”

“you’re gonna do great.” He did a thumbs up, with that confident roughish smile that tells you all is well with the world and waved as she left.

The sight of shiny silver equipment made her cringe, the sharp scent of whatever cleaning agent they cleaned with, the thought that someone had laid here minutes or hours ago, that someone had probably died here sometime. The glare of the overhead lamp, the grim face anaesthesiologist who gave her an epidural numbing feelings from her waist down. Her heart raced when the lead surgeon entered, then they placed a shield mid torso, so she couldn’t see what they do down there. Then they began work for the long hours. She must have dozed for a while, but when her eyes opened, and for that brief moment she was anxious, unsure where she was or what was happening, he was there, Dave was there behind the glass above which was a plaque ‘Observation room.’ He stayed there the rest of the surgery. She’d turn her face and realise that he’d been staring, his brows furrowed, hand held in prayer pose as he watched mawkishly, whenever their eyes meet, the lines tainting his face would disappear, and he’d wave, nod, and smile.

“why are you being so nice to me?” She had asked that night when he promised to find Angela.

He was at the door, on his way out, “I guess I just feel responsible.” He slowly replied, in that same solemn timbre, “sleep tight stranger.” And was gone.

**

“Earth to Grace,” He waved across her face bringing her back into the moment at the snap of his fingers. “you had me worried there.”

“about what?”

“you don’t want to know.” He slowly said. Then gestured at the junk food.

After she’d devoured two granola bar and chased it down with pepsi. Dave hosted a video chat for her and the kids, they seemed happy to see her, even the little victor—bib and mouth stained custard yellow—squealed, reaching for the screen which Angela kept trying to keep beyond touch.

“Saying buh bye to uncle Dave and aunty Grace.” Angela said in a fagged out falsetto, as he swished the camera, and stood up. Victor wailed. “I hope you are alright ma?” Grace nodded in reply and winced when the pitch of the boy’s cry went up all of a sudden, “gotta go.” Angela looked embarrassed and tired.

Had that been my life, two kids, a dance career, and a failing business? Grace wondered.

Close up that morning as he brought the screen closer she could smell the faint hint of aftershave, he looked cleaned up, and was wearing blue scrubs that fits in all the right places. He smiled and proffered another bar. “Don’t you have patients to attend to?” She caught herself staring too long at his face, he didn’t appear to notice, but she’d ask the question in defence.

“nope,” Dave idly replied, “I’m off duty see?”

Grace shook her head.

“you don’t like guys in scrubs? I get it.” he suddenly looked serious, pained, even, “I’m out of clean clothes around here.”

“no… I…” she stuttered. He laughed, obviously pleased by the effect of his acting, she reached for her heating cheek with her palms. He smiled wickedly. “wear whatever.” She said, felt like throwing the wraps crinkling in her fist at him for making her feel embarrassed, she instead munched carelessly, raising a brow and tuts in response to his surprised look. “I’ll eat anyhow I like.”

“so you’re just taking responsibility till someone take your place?” she later asked. Susan and Raymond, the two people who took turns getting updates about her wellbeing will be in town today. She guessed, she’d stop being his burden then. To be honest, she couldn’t wait to be able to bear her own weight around here, and not have people worrying over her like she was fragile which she’d rather not think of herself as, broken bone regardless. It was a damn car crash, she thought with some angst. And the damn amnesia. But she’d miss this, the way he made her feel seen, the laughter, his intrigue, and the whole manly package gracing her darkest days, she’d miss that routine.

“Nope.” He sounded very confident, “I doubt you’d prefer any other company to mine given time,” he popped his fingers just by making a fist, “besides, I love competition.”

“my friends and I go way back,” they all claimed so. She didn’t want to talk about the part where Susan warned against being too close with him, she sounded like Grace’s life depended on it. She looked at the window, envied the free birds, “I just don’t remember yet.”

“well then, I’ll just have to up my game. Tell me what I can do, to keep on the top of the list of your favourite people? you know, somewhere close to that adorable cousin of yours.”

“he is adorable isn’t he?” Something about the little boy made her heart feel funny. Apparently, her Aunt had died, leaving her children behind, she didn’t get details, neither Angela or Susan who promised to explain everything on arrival, gave her much to work with.

“you’d be on your feet soon enough to do whatever weird stuffs flies his kite_” he paused, then spoke like it was some secret, “I know a thing or two about kids.”

“oh really? like?”

“they like anything sweet, dirty diapers are disgusting but you must keep making faces and sound like it’s alright. If they ever fall down trying to walk or crawl, don’t gasp, don’t shout, just laugh with them like it is the most hilarious thing,” He shrugged, “I won’t give away all my tricks, besides, you’ve not promised my name on that list. But I’ll give you the time you need to weight the competition and decide that I’m a great friend when I choose to be.”

“and when you don’t choose to be?”

He looked away, thoughtful. “I’m not answering that question.”

Grace noisily sipped the last of the drink, she sighed. Marvellous.

“I’m a very likable person is what I’m saying.”

“that sounds pompous and heady.” She said, in Dave’s own comment about the ortho surgeon.

“doesn’t sound so bad, now that you’re all better,” he nodded knowingly, “with an attitude I might add.”

“I guess Dr Alex totally agrees.”

“what?” he asked, looking more amused than surprise. Grace had been right; she may have lost memories but her emotional intelligence was intact. Dr Alex and Dave were an item.

“Anyone can tell you’re both an item.”

He shrugged, “I guess one may say that.”

An uncomfortable silence settled after that, he picked his coffee and took a long swig.

“out with it.” Grace said, quelling her own wayward thoughts.

“Queen and I are supposed to have dinner at my parent’s place. She is reluctant to give an answer, made me wonder if I’m taking things too fast.” For someone who stared right at her face when he talked, he was looking away searching for the remote control of the television the rest of the time he talked.

“have you asked her how she feels?” she could guess he hadn’t, “you should get your answers.” She smiled, “for the record, I think you’ll both make good couples. I like her,” Grace said, and in response to Dave’s jealous eye roll, she added, “she’s hot, confident, and beats you when it comes to beside manners.” She said with a weak laugh, covering her own uncontrollable feeling of disappointment expertly.

“what?” he laughed, “I’ve got bedside manners.”

Grace gestured at him head to toe, he followed. He was seating in one chair, his legs plopped on the next at the far end, he had one hand at the back of his head as he munched carelessly. He shrugged and sipped some more coffee. He shrugged, “I’m off duty.”

“this guy is taking too long, what did you order?” He asked after switching to a music channel. Sam Smith’s ‘too good at goodbye’ played on. She like the slow tempo, the guy’s great vocals, the lyrics were just sad, she felt she might cry.

“he told me fried rice and chicken sounded great.” Grace told him.

Dave stood up, “I should go see what he’s up to, but personally I’d be partial to a nice mound of amala and ewedu…”

Everything happened so fast. Something held her chest, squeezing tight, a spasm of cough rippled out, the machine began beeping erratically, a cart clattered to view as voices echoed around, Dave placed a mask over her face, he kept talking, his hand pressed on hers, and squeezed calmly, a gesture of assurance, she guessed. But she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t respond, she could see it all in his eyes, he was scared, it scared her too.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thanks for reading. Y'all know I love you.