“You’re a fucking lab rat. You aren’t even an agent.”
“And on that sisterly note—”
“Wait. Wait. I’m sorry.” Lauren blows out a heavy breath. “Can you come up here tomorrow?”
“I have to work. I need to file the paperwork with the hospital.”
“I will tell you everything, okay? But I want to do it in person, not on the phone.”
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“No. Just...for Christ’s sake, Juliet, cut me some slack. Come here tomorrow, and let’s talk.”
The uncharacteristic vulgarity surprises Juliet. Lauren doesn’t curse. She doesn’t lose her temper like this. She doesn’t threaten, and she doesn’t speak harshly. The past few weeks are taking their toll.
“On one condition,” Juliet says.
“Fine. What?”
“After you finish explaining, you let me take your deposition that you didn’t know Mindy wasn’t yours. It will help you in the long run, Lauren. You don’t want the investigators looking at this the wrong way.”
Another sigh. “You won’t leave this alone, will you? Trust me. After we talk, there won’t be any need for depositions or investigations. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hangs up, and Juliet is stunned.
What in the hell is going on?
17
VAIL HEALTH HOSPITAL
Lauren hangs up the phone, trying to quell the growing panic that threatens to engulf her. Juliet is going to use her rapier mind to reopen the deepest wound Lauren has, whether Lauren wants her to or not. Her whole world is going to collapse.
She can’t let it happen. She has to stop her sister.
Lauren can hardly believe how much their lives have changed. It is like a waking nightmare, every day pushing them deeper into a labyrinth that has no path out. And now Juliet is going to ruin everything.
Again.
Think. Think!
Lauren returns to Mindy’s room, to the big lounge chair under the cozy blanket, the book she hasn’t read a page of nestled beside her. Her hair is in a messy bun on the top of her head; she is wearing thick shearling Uggs on her feet. There was a time when Lauren wouldn’t leave the house without a shower and full face. Now, she barely manages to drag a brush through her hair. She knows how she looks. Like an unkempt, worn woman. She doesn’t even care.
Mindy sleeps beside her, exhausted, thin, her hair sparse, her collarbones jutting out.
Lauren strokes Mindy’s forearm, rebuilds her child into the girl she remembers.
How her dark lashes used to lie across her cheek—when she had any, that is.
How her muscles gleamed, defined and taut.
How her skin turns the color of warm tea in the summer.
How when Mindy was little, she couldn’t wait for the weekend, because that meant they’d be packing up the car and heading somewhere fabulous to spend the weekend together. They’d ski all the mountains, drink cocoa by the fire, sit in hot tubs to ease sore muscles. Those days were golden. They were perfection.
How her daughter used to want nothing more than to spend all her time with her parents, in their pockets, to the point where they used to take her to her room and hand her a book so she could learn how to have quiet alone time.
Now, the arriving weekend has them back in the hospital overnight because Mindy’s pain was off the charts this afternoon. While her daughter sleeps, drugged and incoherent, Lauren is met with a sleepless night of endless beeping, coughing, cries, fluorescent lights. Snow, too, gray icy snow that batters the windows and leaves them all chilled. Lauren can’t believe they used to spend all their time in it. She never wants to see snow again. If Mindy survives...her mind chokes on that thought, the wail building inside her.
She has to survive.
We have to survive this.
A soft voice interrupts her thoughts. “Mrs. Wright?” The nurse smiles timidly. She is a CA—clinician’s assistant—a new girl, quiet and sweet, with squeaky clean blond hair in a bouncy ponytail.
“I was wondering if you have a minute. Not me, um, Dr. Oliver.”
A trill of panic spreads through Lauren’s chest, almost blinding in its intensity.
“What is it? Is something wrong?”
“No, he’s in his office and asked me to grab you. I’ll stay with her while you go. In case she wakes up. I know Mr. Wright isn’t here.”
Lauren nods and stands, carefully folding the blanket and setting the book on top of it. She doesn’t bother to mark her page.
“What’s your name again?”
“Oh, I’m Lolly,” the girl says, her dimples practically boring holes in her cheeks. “I’m doing my oncology rotation. I’ve heard so many good things about Mindy. I can’t wait to meet her.”
Lauren bites back the tears, the snappish comment. This girl looks barely old enough to have an after-school job, much less be training at this level. She forces herself to smile.
“Well, don’t wake her, but if she does, talk to her about anything you want. She’s terribly bored. Most of her teammates, friends, are out on the slopes, and she’s stuck in here.”
“I bet. You go on. Dr. Oliver is waiting.”
Lauren puts her phone in her back pocket and dutifully follows the hallway down to Oliver’s office. He is behind the big desk, the room a warm jumble of photos and books and lamplight. No fluorescents. She closes her eyes and opens them again, realizing the strain she’s been under in Mindy’s all-fluorescent room.
He looks up, his eyes kind, and smiles, gesturing her to a seat across from him.
“What’s going on?”
“Hi, Lauren. I wanted to see how you were holding up.”
“Oh. Well, as good as can be expected. Mindy is such a champion. She’s being so strong, and—”
“But how are you, Lauren? You and Jasper.”
She is silent for a moment. “Considering we might lose our daughter? Pretty shitty. Excuse my French.”
Dr. Oliver looks delighted. “No excuses necessary. I’m glad to see you still have some fire left. I know it’s hard. For the record, you’ve been amazing. You both have. But I think you need to get yourself together. Go on home. You can come back and get her tomorrow.”
“No, thanks.” She knows she sounded mulish, but what is she supposed to do? Abandon her sick daughter? Never.
The doctor steeples his fingers. “Listen to me. You’re no good to her like this. You are holding up well, considering. But you’re as diminished as she is. She’s watching you fade into nothingness, and it’s hurting her, badly. You’re hurting yourself, too.”
“Did she tell you this? What do you mean?”
“Lauren, the girl’s face is glass. She’s trying to hide it so hard. But yes, she did mention it to me. She’s worried about you.”
“You talked to her? What else did she say?”
“Yes, I talked to her. When I was adjusting her port in our appointment yesterday. I’m not only about the science, Lauren. The psychology of her illness is important to me, too.” His smile moves to something warmer. “She’s so feisty. She wanted to know why you and Jasper weren’t a match. She made me explain the science behind DNA.”
Lauren’s heart skips a beat, then rushes back to life, flooding her with adrenaline.
“You aren’t supposed to speak to her without us.”
“Lauren—”
“And what did you tell her, exactly? What did you explain?”
She sounds harsh and paranoid. She doesn’t care. Oliver frowns briefly.
“We talked about how the DNA match works. You want a rundown? I’d expect you to have already done all your research on it.”
“I have, but—”
He waits.
Lauren takes a deep breath. “We aren’t matched for a reas
on.”
He nods as if he’s been waiting for her to bring it up all along.
“I just... I didn’t... You didn’t tell Mindy, did you?”
“Of course not. I emphasized it’s often difficult to find a match with parents, which is why we have a donor database. And, Lauren, you don’t owe me any explanations. You’re that girl’s mother, and that’s all I need to know. But I’m glad you’ve mentioned it, because this is what I wanted to talk to you about. It would be good for us to get in contact with the biological family. There may be a match there, save us the trouble of going wide.”
But she is already shaking her head, so he holds up his hands.
“You don’t know where they are? It was a closed adoption?”
“Yes.”
“I understand. Just curious, why didn’t you tell me to begin with?”
“I didn’t know it was going to matter. I thought between the three of us, someone would match. I guess I’m not as schooled in the finer points of science as my sister.”
“I see. Well, we’ve loaded Mindy’s profile into the system and put out an urgent request for donors. We’ll find someone soon, I hope.”
“Dr. Oliver, what happens if we don’t?”
He smiles again, and this time, it is sad.
“I won’t lie to you, Lauren. Her numbers aren’t improving. But let’s not think that way, okay? Now, I want you to pack it in for the night. Go home. Spend some time there. Give Mindy a little space. She’s tired of being brave and is putting up as good a front as you are. Oh, and, Lauren?”
“Yes?”
“Your arm is bleeding. I noticed you scratching at it. I can give you some Ativan if you think it will help.”
She looks down at her arm, aghast to see blood on her shirt. Her nail is rimed with red. She was dragging it across her skin without realizing it while they talked, and she’s opened a wound.
“I’m fine,” she says sharply. “Thank you for pointing it out. I’ll get a Band-Aid from the nurses’ station.”
Lauren leaves the office angry. Angry at God, at Dr. Oliver—who doesn’t deserve it, the man is a saint—angry at herself, for her incredible lack of discipline. Scratching open her arm like a common dog. She has to get herself together.
18
Juliet shows up midmorning, looks Lauren up and down and shakes her head.
“My God, you’ve lost even more weight since I was here. When’s the last time you had a decent meal—not from the hospital kitchens? Hey, are you bleeding?”
Lauren glances down at her arm. The Band-Aid needs changing. She has gone too deep. So much for getting herself together.
“I’m fine. Mindy—”
“Needs her mother, yes. But she needs you whole and healthy, not a shadow of yourself. Come on. We’re going to go get a gigantic cheeseburger, and ten orders of fries, and you’re going to creak when you’re finished. And you can tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Junk food is not—”
“Since when is a cheeseburger junk food? For heaven’s sake, I remember—”
Lauren holds up a hand.
“Onion rings. I want onion rings, too.”
“You’re on, sister.”
“Let me get my purse.”
Juliet walks with her to Mindy’s room. Mindy is still asleep. The CA is sitting quietly, reading Lauren’s book. She smiles and motions toward Mindy with a thumbs-up. Lauren nods, whispers, “We’re going to get some food, can you stay?”
“I’m here for the next couple of hours. You go on.”
And Lauren realizes Dr. Oliver has given her Lolly as a gift. He really is a good man. They are so lucky.
Juliet drives, her Xterra plowing through the icy streets. They don’t talk. Lauren isn’t ready. It feels so wrong to be gone but also so freeing, like she can do anything. She can bail, run to Mexico and never come back. Do it. Run, now! She tells that ridiculous voice to shut up. She dabs at her arm with a tissue. The bleeding has stopped. It’s long sleeves for her for the next week until it heals.
“We could go to the Little Diner—” Juliet starts, but Lauren knows what she wants.
“Why don’t we go to the Arapahoe Cafe.”
“In Dillon? Seriously?”
“Forty-five minutes to heaven. If you’re up for it.”
“Absolutely. Let’s do it. I haven’t eaten there in forever.”
Juliet whips the truck around and gets onto I-70 heading east toward Denver.
“Please tell me what’s going on,” she says quietly, and Lauren rests her head against the window. This isn’t going to be avoidable, she knows, and she doesn’t want to keep fighting everyone.
“Juliet—”
“Why didn’t you tell me Kyle died? I know I’m not your confidant, but he was part of the family.”
Lauren doesn’t move but cuts her eyes toward her sister. “Because he was out of our lives and I didn’t feel like dragging him back in.”
“Hard to drag him in from the grave. I just thought you would have told me. He had a diving accident?”
“Yes, somewhere off some reef. Baja, I think, something like that.”
“I didn’t know he was into scuba.”
Lauren shrugs. “He was into a lot of things you didn’t know about.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me what the hell is going on. Mindy doesn’t register as a blood relation to us, the man I thought was her biological father is dead, and you’re acting like the fucking sphinx over there, all mysterious and weird. I want you to tell me what’s going on. I want you to tell me the truth. If I have the truth, I might be able to help you.”
Lauren laughs, harsh and bitter. “There’s no helping this situation. You couldn’t possibly understand.”
“Try me.”
Should she? Could she? It’s all she’s been thinking about. What difference does it make at this point what Juliet knows? Surely she can be trusted. She is Lauren’s sister, not some nurse or doctor or coach. Her flesh and blood.
“No matter what I tell you, I need your word it will not leave this car. You cannot mention this to Mindy, the doctors, or Jasper. Especially Jasper.”
Juliet drags her finger across her chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“This is my story. No one else’s. You have to promise you’re not going to run off to your bosses when I finish.”
“Well, it’s Mindy’s story, too, but that’s between you and her. I swear, if you’ve done nothing wrong, then tell me already, and I promise I won’t interfere.”
“I had a miscarriage.”
Juliet’s face is neutral, though she touches Lauren’s hand gently. “I’m so sorry. Was this recent?”
“No. It happened when I was six months along. After Kyle left.” She ignores the shocked gaze of her little sister.
“Why you didn’t tell any of us?”
“You have to understand where I was at that time. Kyle was a raging asshole. I wanted a baby so badly, and he didn’t. I thought for sure once he got used to the idea, he would be thrilled, but I was wrong. I waited until I was really showing, until all the checks and tests were clear and there was no chance of the baby having any issues, and when I told him, he lost his mind. Punched me, punched my stomach, beat me up. And then he said he was filing for divorce and was thinking about taking a job at some bookstore in California. He was going to write, he claimed. He’d sold a short story to some little podunk magazine, and it sparked his creative streak. He’d always wanted to write novels and live at the beach, that I do know. But I thought for sure he’d want a family along with that dream. I was wrong.”
“So you miscarried when he beat you up? If he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him myself.”
<
br /> “No, it was later, almost two months. Though I’m sure that’s what caused it. Something went wrong at that point. I never felt quite the same after. And when the blood started...he was long gone by then.”
Juliet is silent, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are white.
“God, Lauren. I am so sorry. That couldn’t have been easy.”
Lauren nods. “It was a long time ago.”
“But Mindy?”
“When I was in the hospital, the doctor I saw was very sympathetic. She said I had a severe clotting disorder, that it was a miracle the baby made it as long as she had. She mentioned that the odds of me ever carrying to term were very, very low.” The words start to come faster and faster until they are a torrent. So many lies, mistruths, omissions—years of hiding the whole story. It pours out of her like a tsunami.
“It was devastating, and I probably wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should have been. I’d miscarried before, you see, a couple of times, but early, when I was only a few weeks along. I read up on multiple miscarriages, saw that the doctors were starting to recommend baby aspirin, took it for a couple of months, and voilà, got pregnant again. That time, it stuck.
“Then Kyle was a shithead, and I lost the baby, and this doctor was so kind, and she made it so clear I couldn’t have another. She said she had a patient, a teenager, who was going to have a baby right when mine had been due, who wanted to put it up for adoption. A little girl, just like mine.
“She set everything up for us. It was a closed adoption. The mother didn’t ever want to be contacted. I suspect she had been raped or something because she was so adamant about giving up the baby and moving on. I met her once, two days later. She was pretty. Haggard, too haggard to be that young. She took one look at me and hugged me, said, ‘Thank you, take care of her,’ and then I didn’t hear or see anything until the baby was born. The doctor called, I went to the hospital, and took her home.”
Juliet is shaking her head.
“But your party, your stomach... I mean, I saw you in the last couple of months. You weren’t huge, but you looked pregnant. You never said you weren’t pregnant.”
Tear Me Apart Page 10
