Mirror Image

by Curry, Edna

  It seemed strange to be discussing grown-up things like falling in love with a five-year-old girl. But Emy seemed to have a mind equal to her own.

  Laurie said, “That might take too long! He’ll be grieving for LaRae and won’t want to date anyone for a long time. Besides, I live so far away. What could I do in Minnesota to get close to him? How could I make him notice me?”

  “That will be a problem. I can’t tell you how to work it out.”

  “We used to play a game, LaRae and I. We’d pretend to be each other, just for the fun of fooling people. Do you think it would work now?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll just have to do your best. Do you want to try?”

  Laurie looked at Emy, then around her. It was so beautiful and peaceful here with LaRae and her parents. The sweet fragrance of roses filled her nostrils. She could hear LaRae and her mother’s beloved voices and wanted so much to drift over to join them.

  Yet Laurie felt a strong urge to go to Jass and Susie. It’s my fault LaRae is dead. I was driving and had the accident. I have to go back and protect Susie.

  Her gaze swept back to Emy. “Yes, I want to do it.”

  Emy smiled, evidently pleased at her decision. “But there are rules,“ she cautioned.

  “Rules?”

  “I can’t come with you to help. You have to do it on your own. I can’t give you any help, like LaRae’s memories. You’ll still be Laurie, just pretending to be LaRae.”

  Laurie stared at her in panic. This was so important a step, what if she was making the wrong decision? “But, how will I know how to protect Susie? What and who do I watch out for?”

  Emy shook her head. “I can’t tell you that. Your love will have to be strong enough. It will sharpen your instincts. Love, and your memory of what happened to me, to us as children. It’s already had a strong influence on your life, hasn’t it?”

  Laurie looked at her friend, and knew that was true. “Yes. Yes, Emy, it has.”

  “Go then. Walk back into the dark tunnel. Good-bye, Laurie. I’ll be watching.”

  Chapter 2

  Laurie awoke. The brightness of lights hurt her eyes, making her squint against them. Pain knifed through her as she sucked in a breath. The room whirled around her. The sharp smell of antiseptic told her she was in a hospital. She moved her left hand and discovered that she was on a padded table of some kind. A tube trailed down the back of her hand.

  What happened? What am I doing here?

  “She’s coming ‘round, doctor.”

  “Good.”

  Someone moved into her line of vision. She could see only a narrow strip of tanned face. Bright blue eyes regarded her from between green cotton cap and mask. “How do you feel?”

  Fear made her angry. “I hurt everywhere!” Her voice came out in a croak. She coughed and tasted blood.

  The doctor eyed her from behind his mask. “Better than not hurting.”

  "Where am I?”

  “You’re in the emergency room at San Francisco General hospital,” the doctor said.

  “What happened?”

  “A car accident. You’ve got a fractured right arm and a couple of cracked ribs, besides a deep gash in your cheek."

  Her hand reached to the awful pain in her cheek. “Oh, no, not my face! It’ll show for pictures....”

  ”Don’t." A nurse pulled her hand away. "It’s an open wound. We don’t want it contaminated.”

  “Of course."

  "A surgeon is on duty. I’m going to send you up to surgery and let the expert take care of your face, okay?”

  Surgery? The room whirled again as she tried to speak. “My purse....”

  ”Don’t worry about it. It’s in safekeeping along with your jewelry. They were looking for some ID and found your insurance card in it. I’ve set and cast your arm. Now the nurse will give you another shot, then up you go to surgery.”

  Laurie tried to look around the emergency room, but white curtains and the doctor and nurse cut off her view. “Where’s my sister? Was she hurt, too?”

  “We’ll talk about her later. She’s here in the hospital -- in another room.”

  “This will put you out.” Before she could object, the nurse poked a needle in the IV in the back of her hand and everything went black once more.

  ***

  When Laurie woke again, it was dark. She felt nauseous, and hurt everywhere. Her mouth felt as if it were full of cotton. She moved her tongue over her parched lips experimentally and tried to swallow. Turning her head to her left, she could see lights through the partly opened door.

  A nurse moved to her side and took her blood pressure, then pushed the gurney she was lying on. “You’re doing fine, LaRae. Your surgery’s over and you’re in the recovery room. We’re moving you up to your own room now.”

  Half conscious, she was aware of moving down a long hallway and into an elevator. Elevator doors closed, and they moved upward, then the doors opened again. They went down another hallway and through a door.

  Suddenly she had the giddy feeling of being lifted. She came down onto a soft bed. Gentle hands tucked a sweet-smelling, heated blanket around her. It felt so good to be under that warm blanket--comforting, like she was surrounded by love. A wonderfully familiar sensation. Her eyelids felt very heavy, and it was too much work to lift them.

  Again she awoke. She saw metal rails along both sides of her bed and gripped one to try to sit up. The cast on her right arm bumped into the railing and sent a shaft of pain up to her shoulder.

  She stared the cast. Her chest hurt with each breath. Even when she held her breath her ribs felt like they were poking like knives through her skin. Feeling trapped by the rail and the pain, she cried out in protest.

  A young nurse bustled in, plump cheeks rounding as she smiled at her. “Ah, you’re awake, now. I’m Mary.”

  Laurie felt the cuff tighten around her arm as the nurse took her blood pressure, then cool fingers took her pulse.

  “Could I have a drink?” Laurie asked, her voice still a frog.

  “Only ice for now.”

  Her cheek throbbed. She put up a hand and fingered the bandage on the side of her face. “Surgery to repair the gash on your face,” the doctor had said.

  “Can I get up to go to the bathroom?”

  Mary regarded her with wide brown eyes. “You’re not feeling too nauseous?”

  Laurie shook her head, which made her dizzy and not at all sure.

  Mary dropped the metal rail, and Laurie slowly swung her bare feet over the side of the bed, fighting the wave of pain that sped through her chest at the movement. All she was wearing was one of those stupid, back-less hospital gowns. She could feel the cool air flow over her body where it was open. Feeling woozy, she took the nurse’s offered arm and walked carefully to the bathroom, the nurse guiding the I.V. along.

  She relieved herself, then stared in the mirror, appalled at the disheveled young woman with hazel eyes staring back at her. What a mess she was! Not exactly ready for the camera today. Her left cheek was bandaged, and her long blond hair looked tangled and dirty.

  With a painful sigh, Laurie shuffled slowly back into the other room and sat on the side of her bed. LaRae. Was she hurt, too?

  She looked at Mary. “How’s my sister?”

  Mary paused a moment, then said gently, “I’m so sorry. She didn’t make it. She was thrown out of the car and had severe head injuries. The doctors did all they could, but they couldn’t save her.”

  Shock numbed Laurie as she stared at Mary. LaRae was dead? It couldn’t be true. She remembered LaRae’s refusal to put on her seat belt. If only she’d been wearing it, she might have survived, too! Laurie felt sick. She looked away as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “I’m so sorry. You were twins, weren’t you?” Mary said kindly.

  Laurie nodded, then winced as the movement made her face hurt. She got into bed and Mary tucked her in.

  LaRae was dead. The thought whirled through her, vibrating again
within her with each painful breath. She swallowed and stared at the bright sunlight outside her window. Suddenly she resented its cheerfulness. Why should the sun be out making everything look normal when her sister had died?

  Mary busied herself around the room, talking to and tending the older woman in the next bed. Mary glanced occasionally at Laurie, as if she weren't willing to leave her alone just yet.

  Laurie closed her eyes against the awful images of the accident her mind kept replaying. But the memories refused to stop. Grief for LaRae washed over her, tearing her up inside and bringing endless unanswered questions to the forefront of her mind.

  What about the man in the van? And the driver of the semi? She vaguely remembered seeing a flashing picture of him in her rear-view mirror--just a blue baseball cap above a wide-eyed expression of horror on a florid face in the truck cab high above and behind her. “Was anyone else hurt in the accident?”

  “Not seriously,” Mary said. “The rest of the people have been treated and released. They only had cuts and bruises, I heard.”

  “That’s good.” She coughed again, wincing at the pain that effort caused. “My chest hurts.”

  The nurse smiled ruefully. “Cracked ribs always hurt. So do broken bones and cuts. No mystery about that. I’m sure the doctor left an order for medication. I’ll get you some.” She disappeared and returned carrying a little paper cup with two small pills. “Here, take these.” She held out the pills and a cup with a small amount of water. “You can have a sip to wash these down.”

  Laurie sat up, downed the pills, then slid her feet back under the covers. Mary tucked her in and placed the call button under her hand. “Try to rest now. Just ring if you want me. I’ll be back later.”

  Laurie nodded. She closed her eyes against the painful memories. Tears slipped down her cheeks until at last, exhausted, she fell asleep.

  Sometime later the young nurse returned. She roused Laurie long enough to take her vital signs. Only the night-light dispelled the dark shadows in her room. Mary spoke in hushed tones, apparently not wanting to awaken Laurie’s roommate.

  “Can I have a drink?”

  Laurie sat up and the nurse handed her a glass of water with a straw. Laurie’s lips felt thick and refused to move properly as she sipped it. Mary handed her a tissue to catch the dribbles.

  “Your cheek’s swollen and your face will be sore for a while. But I’m sure you’ll heal up fine.”

  Laurie eased down under the covers and shook her head when Mary started to raise the rail.

  “Sorry, hospital policy,” Mary said firmly and snapped the rail into place.

  Laurie's grimaced in response, but Mary only grinned. “Sleep tight, Mrs. Markham. By the way, they finally reached your husband. He said he’ll be on the first plane out from Minneapolis.” With that Mary bustled out, her white nurse’s shoes making no noise as she walked down the hospital corridor.

  Laurie could only stare after Mary in shock. She’d called her ‘Mrs. Markham.” She’d said Jass was flying out from Minneapolis!

  Oh my God. Jass thought she was dead, and LaRae was alive. How had that happened? And how was she going to tell him the truth?

  Laurie lay awake, grieving for her sister and endlessly reliving those awful seconds before the crash. LaRae’s desperate cry of, “Look out!” echoed in her head and she thought she’d hear that awful crunch of metal and their screams forever.

  If only she hadn’t looked away just then, she might have seen that black van in time to stop. If only the truck driver hadn’t been following her so closely.

  No, she should have noticed that he was doing that, and changed lanes so that she wasn’t in his way if he was impatient. Why hadn’t she? She should have insisted that LaRae put her seat belt on. How ironic that if she hadn’t agreed that it was safer for her to drive than LaRae, LaRae would still be alive and she, Laurie, would be dead!

  It’s my fault that my sister is dead. Her stomach felt tied in sick knots. My fault that poor little Susie will grow up without a mother. Instead, she’ll have a succession of nannies. They might care about her, but they’ll never replace her mother.

  Why couldn’t it have been me who died? Who would have missed me? I have no one who needs me! Why am I alive, and a young mother dead? LaRae had everything to live for, and I have nothing—nothing but looking good for a stupid camera, so someone will buy some dumb product that they wouldn’t buy otherwise! Her pillow grew wet with tears.

  Emy’s voice in her head said clearly, “Remember that LaRae could have returned, Laurie. She made the choice not to. Don’t blame yourself.” A beautiful garden scene appeared, filling her mind with a feeling of peace.

  What a lovely dream, Laurie thought, feeling more relaxed. If only it were true.

  She should be thinking of practical things, she scolded herself. She must be strong, for Jass and Susie’s sakes. Jass would take care of the funeral arrangements. They had few relatives, their parents had been dead for years, and there was only old Aunt Martha, except for assorted cousins scattered around the country. Someone would have to call them, she supposed. She’d worry about it later. After she told Jass.

  It seemed to Laurie that she’d just gotten back to sleep when a nurse again came to take her vitals, this one a gray-haired woman named Anna, skinny and dour. Why did hospitals wake the patients at such ungodly hours, she wondered when she saw that her watch read five-forty.

  Anna was thorough and efficient and seemed to be best friends with Laurie’s roommate. Anna too, called Laurie “Mrs. Markham” but Laurie didn’t attempt to correct her.

  This was too big a mistake for her to trust anyone else to set straight. She shuddered at the problems that might develop otherwise. If she told them she was Laurie Johnson, she could imagine Jass coming to the front desk and being told that there was no LaRae Markham registered as a patient there. What a shock that would be! No, she had to tell him herself.

  Only, how on earth was she going to tell him? How soon would he be here? She couldn’t remember what the plane schedules were. Was there a night flight from Minneapolis to San Francisco? She and LaRae had taken morning flights, but it was a major route. There might be lots of choices. She watched the door in panic every time she heard footsteps.

  When she went to the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair, which had looked so stylish the day before, hung around her face in disarray and her cheek was still swollen and bandaged. The rest of her face was a mass of bruises, now turning purple. Fat chance anyone would want her to pose for the camera today.

  Then she remembered that she was supposed to be dead. The newspapers had probably reported the accident and her death. Her friends would have heard that, too. The other models would be talking about it on breaks, saying what a shame someone so young had died. Ha! In the next breath, they’d probably start speculating on which of them would get her plum assignments.

  Yikes! She’d lose her job! Geri, her super efficient boss at the modeling agency, would fill all her assignments and she’d be out of luck by the time her face healed up again. She’d be back to starting at the bottom!

  She should call someone, and set them straight. Who? She’d broken up with her boyfriend, Wesley, and the other models were only casual friends, people to attend parties and business functions with.

  Geri would have already given her assignments to someone else when she hadn’t arrived at work this morning, so there was no hurry. She’d call Geri after she told Jass.

  When it came right down to it, she realized that there was no one who would care very much whether she was alive or dead. What a tribute to life in the fast lane!

  “Time for your medication, Mrs. Markham.”

  Laurie sighed, turned away from the bathroom mirror and went back to bed. She took the pills Anna handed her and leaned back to close her eyes. Tears again ran down her cheeks. She didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

  Since her swollen face was still too sore to chew, they gave her
a chocolate milk-shake for breakfast.

  All through her bath and breakfast, she debated how to tell Jass that it was LaRae who had died in the accident.

  How would he take it? He would grieve for LaRae of course. She knew he’d loved her. They had that loss in common now. Would he be kind to her and sympathize, realizing that she was grieving, too?

  She wanted so much to have the right to share this pain with Jass, to comfort him. They hardly knew each other.

  She remembered the first time LaRae had brought him home and introduced him to their family as her future husband. Laurie had been attracted to him the moment he entered their parents’ living room. But that was as far as it went, since he belonged to LaRae. Jass had had eyes only for LaRae and had barely noticed Laurie. But she’d envied LaRae her good fortune in finding him and wondered when she would find her own “Mr. Right.”

  Their parents had taught the identical twin sisters to live their own lives. They'd placed them in separate schools and later in separate colleges, believing it would be better if they didn’t depend on each other. Thus, each had had her own friends and had developed their own interests. Each had gone her separate way without the other.

  Weekends were another story. They had reveled in doing the opposite of what their parents wanted. They'd purposely set out to confuse people by dressing alike and even pretended to be each other, much to the chagrin of their dates.

  That had all changed when LaRae brought Jass Markham home in their senior year of college. LaRae had become possessive, and game time had been over.

  Laurie smiled ruefully, remembering. Childhood had abruptly ended then, too.