Winners

by Danielle Steel

“And if you do? What if you lose the use of your arms next time? Like Teddy. Or hurt your head. Lily, no!”

  “Yes! Bring me my ski clothes, Dad, or I’ll ski in jeans.” And he knew she would. They battled for the next ten minutes, and finally he relented when she insisted that the two ski instructors with her would keep her from getting hurt. “I want to compete in the Paralympics. I’ve been training for all these years.” It was the first time she had realized that she could still compete in downhill skiing, even if it would be different than before. Her life didn’t have to be as radically changed as she feared. And she was going to fight for it. He finally agreed to bring her clothes. “Just bring me a plain jacket, Dad. And a pair of black pants.” She didn’t want to wear her racing uniform, or her Olympic ski team jacket. “Do I have a plain helmet in the closet?” She couldn’t remember if she did.

  “I’ll find one. This is crazy, Lily. If anything happens to you, I swear I’m going to kill that physical therapist you call a Marine drill sergeant. This is the last thing I want you to do.” He sounded near tears.

  “It’s the only thing I want to do, Dad.” And he knew she meant it. He looked bitterly unhappy when he brought her clothes over that night in an Olympic bag. But the clothes were without emblems or insignia, and he had found a plain blue helmet at the back of the closet that she used to wear. She tried it on, and it still fit. He didn’t tell her that he had been about to give her ski clothes away when they emptied the closet to build the elevator. He never thought she’d use them again. They talked for a few minutes when he dropped them off, and left. He had things to do that night. Jessie had sent him some résumés to look at, and he wanted to go through them, of neurosurgeons at Stanford and Mass General and one in Los Angeles at UCLA who she thought were possibilities for The Lily Pad, one as a director, and the others as staff.

  Lily was heading for her room, with the bag of ski clothes on her lap, when Teddy caught up to her, and asked what she was carrying.

  “My ski clothes,” she said, victoriously. “I’m going to Winter Park tomorrow. Phil set it up.” He had never seen her so excited, and he grinned.

  “Are you trying out for the Paralympics?”

  “I want to check out how I like chair skiing, and then I’ll see. If I can do it, I want to compete in the Paralympics.” He could see how determined she was from the look in her eyes and the tilt of her chin.

  “So do I,” he admitted to her, and she turned to smile at him.

  “Which event?”

  “They have a chair rugby demonstration at the Winter Games, although it’s a summer sport. Phil says I can do that. I can use my electric chair for rugby.” Which he couldn’t in all sports. “They won’t allow them in basketball, but they do in rugby.”

  “It’s pretty rough, from what Phil showed me on the film,” she said with concern, and Teddy laughed. He was a seventeen-year-old boy after all.

  “Yeah, but it looks cool, doesn’t it?” They both laughed conspiratorially and went to their rooms.

  Lily left in one of the vans the next day, wearing her ski clothes, and ready for Winter Park. When they got there, the two instructors Phil had booked for her were waiting. They fitted her onto the small chair on the monoski and strapped her in. They got her on the chairlift, and one of them rode with her. As the chair took off, she felt a strange, familiar feeling and remembered the last morning she had been on a chairlift, in Squaw Valley, minutes before she fell. She was very quiet as she rode up, trying not to think about it and to focus only on skiing again. They got her off the lift easily. She had decided to try the monoski for better control. And as she sat on it, suddenly everything was familiar. She adjusted her goggles, and took the poles in her hands with the small skis at the tips to help balance her. She glided a little to get the feel of it, as one of the instructors talked to her, and then she took off, slowly at first to get acclimated to the monoski and little seat. She was surprised by how easy it was, and how good her balance was in the chair. She hardly needed the poles. After years of training and instinct, she shifted her weight easily for balance, and started to pick up speed. She could see the instructors on either side of her, but she was a natural on the single ski. It felt just like it always had as she went down the mountain at full speed, with the wind on her face and the snow beneath her skis. She hit a mogul and took it easily. She was fearless as she flew down the mountain and felt as though she had grown wings instead of legs. They got to the bottom too quickly for her. She was laughing and talking and there were tears running down her face.

  “I can do it!” she shouted at them. “I can still ski! I want to do it again!” They took three runs that day, and Lily picked up speed and balance each time as she learned how her weight shifted on the chair. She was a natural, and the instructors could see it. Her years of diligence and training had served her well. She was an obvious choice for the Paralympics, but more than that, she felt as though she had returned to the land of the living. She hated to leave the mountain after the third run, but the instructors had other bookings. She took off the ski and got back in her wheelchair. As she did, she felt like a bird taking off her wings, but at least she knew now that she could still fly. The driver helped her into the van, and Lily sat grinning broadly all the way back to Craig. She had never been as happy in her life. Phil Lewis had given her her life back. She could ski! And no one could take that from her.

  Chapter 15

  CAROLE ARRIVED IN Denver late on a Friday night, and went straight to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, where Bill had booked a room for her. She had flown from Boston after work, and she had no idea what to expect from Bill, or what the site for his future rehab center would look like. She had agreed to meet him and Joe at the hotel for breakfast the next day, and then they were going to look at the property he had just bought.

  Bill had already been out to see it several times with Steve Jansen, and they both had lots of ideas about how to make it work. They agreed on the use of the two main buildings, and the smaller buildings offered a range of possibilities, either for patients or as offices. The gym was impressive, and Steve had suggested building an Olympic-size pool at the back of the property in an enclosed building, and Bill liked the idea. Steve was immensely pleased with the buildings on closer inspection, and the fine construction that had been done there. They needed very little work, other than handicap accommodations, lifts, ramps, and the kinds of things he was adding to Bill’s house for Lily.

  Carole was already waiting in the dining room of the hotel when Bill and Joe got there. Her long, straight dark hair was sleek and stylish—and neither of them had any idea it was a wig. She looked pretty and youthful, and Bill noticed that she had a lithe, athletic figure in black pants, a black turtleneck sweater, and high heels. She had tossed her short fur jacket over a chair. And Carole was intrigued as Bill walked across the dining room with a tall, attractive man who looked slightly older than he. Both of them were wearing sport jackets, and she guessed who they were immediately. Bill had a look of command about him that you couldn’t miss, but he had a pleasant face, and she noticed he had kind eyes when he introduced himself and then Joe.

  Both men ordered a healthy breakfast of bacon and eggs. Carole had coffee, grapefruit, and whole-wheat toast, as Bill brought out the lists of suggestions Lily and Teddy had made for things they wanted to see offered at The Lily Pad, for both younger and older kids. There was a strong emphasis on art and music on Teddy’s list, and on sports on Lily’s. She had suggested sports teams, competitive games, and a sporting event based on the Paralympics, to be held every year. And Bill also had a list of the recreational activities provided at Craig, some of which would work for younger kids too.

  “You should have a peer counseling program,” Carole suggested. “Maybe even a buddy system, matching up an older child or adolescent with a younger one, so that each child has a ‘big sister or brother,’ and also match each teenager with someone in their twenties. It’s a tremendous support system. And a college co
unseling service for kids who have to apply while they’re in rehab. And possibly a service to find internships outside the facility so they get used to having jobs right from rehab to make that process easier for them when they get out.” She handed Bill and Joe each a list of counseling-related activities she had come up with, all of which sounded good to both of them. They pooled their suggestions all through breakfast, and Carole gave Bill dozens of new ideas.

  “Do you implement things like that at Mass General?” Bill asked with interest.

  “We’re not set up for it,” she answered. “I do one-on-one counseling with my patients, although I follow them for a long time after discharge, and even after rehab. I want to know how they’re doing, and help them with problems later. I run several groups, which is something you could do with the older kids in your facility. Teenagers have a tough time adjusting to the world, even without spinal cord injuries. With that added to the mix, they have a lot to deal with in school, in dating, with their parents, siblings, peers. Drugs and alcohol are still an issue, as they are for anyone at that age. And I had an experience myself last year where peer counseling made a big difference in my treatment. I had breast cancer,” she said simply, “and sometimes my peer counselor was more informative and more practical than my physician.” She said it easily, although she hadn’t intended to. But she felt comfortable with them, and they both looked impressed. She was an incredibly competent woman, who knew her business, and had given a lot of thought to their project, and had made excellent suggestions. “I’m healthy now, by the way,” she said to Bill, “in case you’re concerned. My treatment was successful,” she added matter-of-factly.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said quietly, and meant it. He noticed that Joe hadn’t said a great deal through the meeting. He mostly listened to Carole, and looked impressed by everything she said. And the more he heard from her, the more Bill wanted to convince her to come and work at The Lily Pad, and head up all their psychologically related services. She was every bit as good as Jessie had said, and Bill wanted her desperately for The Lily Pad. He mentioned it at the end of breakfast.

  “Other than kidnapping you, which I’m not ruling out, what do we have to do to convince you to move to Denver and work for us? We want to run a top-notch, state-of-the-art rehab center for young people, with every possible psychological support service, and art, recreational, and sports programs that will knock your socks off.”

  “You already have,” she said to Bill. “I love what you’re doing and what you intend to do, and how you think. What you’re planning sounds terrific, but I’m an institutional snob,” she admitted with a grin. “It’s hard to give up working at Mass General. It’s a teaching hospital for Harvard and it looks pretty good on my CV,” she said honestly.

  “So does starting up a rehab like ours, in full charge of all psychological services. You can hire as many support people as you want.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” she said, taking another sip of coffee. “I like everything you’ve said so far. I’d want to consult for you. I can come out any weekend you need me, or during the week for important meetings, with a little advance notice, so I can reschedule my patients. They allow me to do consulting.” Bill could sense that it was the best he was going to get from her for now, but he had every intention of wooing her away from Boston eventually, if he could. He loved the challenge. And Carole Anders was impressive. It didn’t surprise him that she had worked with both Harvard and Stanford.

  After breakfast, Bill drove them to the property and walked Carole through every building and then all over the grounds. He had told her to bring rough shoes, as parts of it were muddy from recent rains, and she wore running shoes and looked into every room, closet, shed, and inch of the property with him. He told her what he was going to change and clear and where the Olympic-size pool would be in its own building. They looked at the gym, and figured out which of the smaller buildings would be good for offices. And the two main buildings with all the bedrooms were already beautiful. Carole was in awe of what he’d bought, and his plans for it as a rehab center. Although Craig was efficient and the best in the country, and there were other facilities for children, The Lily Pad was going to be a gem. And she liked his plans to admit some patients on scholarship, according to need. He had all the right ideas, and she fell even more in love with the project as soon as she saw where he intended to put it. It was a beautiful, peaceful, happy place with a great feeling to it, and the buildings, even empty, were cozy and elegant at the same time. It would be a wonderful, positive environment in which to work and live.

  “When are you planning to open, by the way?” she asked him as they walked around.

  “A year from this summer. I’d like to open our doors in August of next year, if it’s feasible, depending on the staff and director we find, and how quickly. That’s sixteen months from now. I think we can do it.”

  “I do too,” she said, mulling it over, “since you already have the physical buildings. All you have to do is build in accommodations. You don’t have to build from the ground up, which makes a big difference.” It was why he had been willing to pay handsomely for the property in the first place.

  “Jessica Matthews has already given me possible names. I’ve been in touch with them, but there’s no one on the list who’s the right medical director yet.” He was honest with her.

  “It’s a shame Jessie won’t do it,” Carole said, as they walked back to the car after two hours on the property. They had seen everything.

  “I think so too. She said her kids won’t leave Squaw Valley, and it’s hard to argue with that,” Bill said ruefully.

  “I think they’re having a tough time without their dad,” she said carefully. “It’s a big blow for all of them. He was a great guy.”

  “He died the night she was operating on my daughter,” Bill said, with deep sympathy for her. It had created a strange bond between them. Tragedy had struck them both at the same time. And he still felt guilty about how hard he had been on her, about Lily. He hadn’t realized then how capable she was.

  “Someone will turn up,” Carole said confidently about the director. “I’ll keep my ears open in Boston.”

  “Thank you,” Bill said, and then suggested they stop by at Craig to see Lily, so Carole could meet her. They went to get something to eat on the way and it was almost four o’clock when they got there, and Lily had just come back from an outing. They had gone to a supermarket that morning, and a department store that afternoon. She had two big shopping bags on her lap from Neiman Marcus, as they helped her out of the van and into her chair, and she looked up and saw her father with Joe and Carole, and she smiled, happy to see them. She knew Carole was a friend of Jessie’s, and had come to talk to her father about The Lily Pad. He had told Lily all about her.

  Lily wheeled her chair into the building, and they went to the visiting center to sit and talk for a while. She still had her shopping bags on her lap, and her father rolled his eyes.

  “There’s a class I wish they wouldn’t teach you here. Shopping. You always did fine without help.” But they had actually taught her how to negotiate stores, get waited on, get through the aisles, find what she wanted, and catch salespeople’s attention without being rude or ignored.

  “I love to shop too,” Carole confessed. Lily could see it. She was wearing stylish black slacks, and Lily had noticed her short fur jacket and expensive high heels. Carole had style and a good look.

  “I wish we had a hair salon here,” Lily suddenly said out of the blue. “I love your hair, and I haven’t had a haircut since Christmas. I love manicures and pedicures, and I haven’t had one since I got hurt.” She had noticed Carole’s shell pink nail polish too, and perfectly done nails.

  “Put that on the list,” Carole said to Joe, who was sitting next to her, and listening to the conversation with interest. He had noticed how impeccably groomed Carole was. “Hair salon. Or maybe an arrangement with a local hair salon to bring people out to
do the girls’ hair and mani pedis a couple of times a week. Or field trips to a salon in town.” They were the things that made young girls feel good. “I was sick last year,” she said to Lily, “and I couldn’t have manicures because of the risk of infection, and I really missed them too.” She smiled conspiratorially at Lily, who really liked her. Carole was warm, open, and direct.

  They talked about Craig then and the activities Lily was doing there. Carole was enormously impressed, and even more so when she heard that Lily had started skiing, and was planning to enter the Paralympics.

  “I was training for the Olympics when I got hurt,” Lily explained.

  “I know. The Paralympics are impressive too. I went once, and it’s every bit as stunning as the Olympics, maybe more so. How did you get interested in it?”

  “My physical therapist here showed me a DVD. And he arranged for me to go skiing. I’m going to enter in Alpine racing. My dad’s not too keen on it,” Lily said, glancing at Bill. “He’s afraid I’ll get hurt, but he never worried about that before. And I didn’t get hurt skiing.”

  “Yes, but things are different now,” he said with a worried look.

  “They don’t have to be,” Carole said clearly. “People with spinal cord injuries can do just about what everyone else does, with some adjustment.”

  “They teach scuba diving here,” Lily said with a grin, “and a whole bunch of other stuff. A lot of people play golf. My friend is entering in quad rugby. I wish there were a girls’ volleyball team here, but there aren’t enough people who want to play right now.” She sounded like any other seventeen-year-old as they sat there, talking about the sports she enjoyed, and her passion for downhill racing. She said it worked well for her with the chair and monoski and was a lot easier than she’d expected.

  “When are you going back to school?” Carole asked her.

  “In May.” Lily’s face clouded over as she said it.