The Gifted

by Gail Bowen

  A nurse came to tell Mieka that Dr. Kelly had arrived, and he wanted to explain the procedure and get her signature on some papers. Not long after Mieka left with the nurse, Brock Poitras appeared.

  “We never talked about where I should drop off Mieka’s car,” he said. “So I thought I’d track you down and get an update. How’s Lena?”

  “They’re getting her ready for surgery.”

  Brock groaned. “I was afraid of that. There was something about the angle of her arm.” He peered closely at me and frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be.”

  “It’s always worse for the family,” he said. “There’s a Robin’s Donuts downstairs. Why don’t I get us coffee?”

  “Coffee sounds good,” I said. “Could you get some for Mieka too? We both take it black.”

  When Mieka came back to the waiting room, she collapsed into a chair and buried her face in her hands. “They put Lena in a hospital gown,” Mieka said. “Mum, she looks so little.”

  I put my arms around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. Neither of us moved when Riel Delorme arrived. “Taylor left me a message,” he said. “How’s Lena?”

  “They’re taking her into surgery,” Mieka said.

  Riel took the empty chair next to Mieka. Clearly ill at ease, he stared at the floor. Finally, he said, “If there’s any way I can help, just ask. I’ve done some stupid things, but I love those girls.”

  Mieka’s voice was soft. “I never doubted that,” she said.

  “Being with you and Madeleine and Lena was the best time of my life,” he said. There was real sadness in his voice. Mieka turned towards him. It was a nice moment.

  Then Brock Poitras came into the waiting room, and the adage that “life turns on a dime” was once again proven true. When Riel saw Brock, he leapt to his feet and balled his hands into fists. “So you’re the replacement,” he said. He glared at Mieka. “It didn’t take you long,” he said. “I’m not surprised. When a woman like you gets a chance to trade up, she trades up.”

  Mieka crossed her hands in front of her breasts, as though protecting herself against the verbal onslaught.

  Riel stared angrily at Brock. “Congratulations, brother,” he said. “She’s a great woman – in every way, but you’ve probably already discovered that.”

  Brock put down the cardboard tray that held the coffee and moved slowly towards Riel. Riel had always been lean. Now he was gaunt, and Brock dwarfed him. “Time for you to leave, brother,” Brock said. “I’ll give you to the count of three.”

  Riel was out of the room on one. Brock handed around the coffee and we sat, shaken, sipping our coffee and waiting. It wasn’t long before Zack phoned to check on Lena, and to tell us that Vince was back in the city. He said that Vince was full of praise for Dr. Mike Kelly, and that Lena was in good hands.

  Two hours later, when a balding young doctor whom I presumed was Mike Kelly came into the waiting room, the three of us leapt to our feet. When he smiled, my heart began beating again.

  Dr. Kelly’s voice was deep and reassuring. “The surgery went well. It was a little more complicated than we’d hoped, but Lena’s fine. When she’s in her sixties, she may have a twinge in that elbow if the weather’s changing, but apart from that, she’ll be good as new in a few weeks. We’ll keep her here for a couple of days to make sure there’s no infection and her elbow is healing the way it should. You’ll have her back home in no time.”

  “Can I see her?” Mieka asked.

  “Better than that,” Dr. Kelly said. “An orderly’s bringing in a reclining chair and some bedding, so you can sleep in Lena’s room.”

  Mieka slumped with relief. “I was so scared,” she said.

  “Occupational hazard of being a parent.” Dr. Kelly said crisply, then his professional manner softened. “My wife and I have four sons. We’re not strangers to the ER. Kids take chances. Sometimes it seems like a miracle that any kid makes it to high school. And Mieka, speaking of high school, that night at Luther when I was paired with you for grad, I thought I was the luckiest guy on earth. Kelly/Kilbourn – talk about alphabetical Fate.”

  “And here we are again,” Mieka said. “Now it’s my turn to feel like the luckiest person on earth.” She extended her hand. “Thank you.”

  Dr. Kelly took it. “I’ll see you when I make rounds in the morning.”

  Mieka called Zack with the news. After she’d talked to Madeleine, Mieka handed the phone to me. “How are you doing?” he said.

  “Fine, now that we know Lena’s all right. I’m just going to peek into her room to reassure myself, then I’ll come home.”

  After I handed the phone back, I turned to Brock. “I guess we can all call it a night.”

  Mieka turned to him. “Thanks for being here, Brock – and I’m really sorry about Riel. This can’t have been the way you wanted to spend the evening.”

  “I didn’t have any other plans,” Brock said.

  We all walked down to Lena’s room. She was still sleeping, and she had a Day-Glo pink cast from above her elbow to her wrist. I kissed her forehead, then hugged Mieka hard. I turned to Brock. “I might as well take Mieka’s car and drop you off at your place.”

  “Fine with me,” Brock said.

  Brock led me to Mieka’s car in the parking lot and handed me the keys. I unlocked the doors. “Is your car still at Lawyers’ Bay?”

  “For the time being,” he said, settling into his seat. “Delia Wainberg’s going to drive it back to the city.”

  I started Mieka’s old Volvo. “So where do you live?”

  “Broad Street – in the Warehouse District.”

  “So we’re neighbours,” I said. “So what do you think of The Village – or what will someday be The Village?”

  “It’s going to be good for everybody. Let’s face it, ours is not a safe neighbourhood. I weigh 260, but when I run after dark, I’m relieved to get home. And the plans for The Village are exciting. The idea of a well-designed community where a fair percentage of houses are within the reach of low-income families is long past due, and I’m impressed with the training programs Racette-Hunter is putting into place. Building a city within a city is going to take a lot of workers. If North Central can supply them, we can change everything.”

  “You sound like Zack,” I said.

  “He and I spent a lot of time talking over the weekend. Zack is very persuasive.”

  “Did he persuade you to work full-time for Racette-Hunter?

  “I’m giving it serious thought,” Brock said.

  When I got home, Zack had the fire going and a bottle of Old Pulteney single malt and two glasses waiting on the coffee table in front of the fireplace.

  “I see we’re going first class tonight.”

  “Lena’s surgery went well. We have reason to celebrate.”

  “I know we do,” I said. “I’m just going to run upstairs and see if the girls are still awake, and then I’ll be back to curl up with you and the Old Pulteney.”

  A weekend of fresh air had worked its magic. Despite the traumatic event on the rink, the girls were both asleep, but there was a little pile of tissue on Madeleine’s pillow. She’d been crying, and her small hand rested on the pulse in Taylor’s neck – reassurance that she wasn’t alone. I adjusted their covers, kissed them both, and went downstairs.

  Zack had our drinks poured. He handed me my glass and took his own. I raised mine. “To Dr. Mike Kelly.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Zack said. “By the way, when you were upstairs, I called Mieka and volunteered to take the first shift tomorrow.”

  “You’re a good guy.”

  “No, just a guy who’s very thankful that everything turned out all right. When you told me that Lena had been hurt, I was as scared as I’ve ever been in my life.”

  “Sir Francis Bacon said, ‘He that hath a wife and children hath given hostages to fortune.’ ”

  “Sir Francis was right. Before I met you, I wasn’t afraid o
f anything.” Zack sipped his Scotch meditatively. “Probably because I didn’t have anything to lose.”

  “Do you ever long for the old carefree days?”

  Zack took a last pull on his Scotch. “Nope. Not for a single second.”

  CHAPTER

  8

  The plans for the next morning had the precision of a military operation. After breakfast, Madeleine and I would stop by the hospital to see Lena. Remembrance Day is a stat holiday in Saskatchewan, so the schools were closed. Madeleine would be able to spend a good part of the day with her sister, and Zack and I could give Mieka a chance to go home, shower, change, and then drive over to April’s Place and make sure everything was on target for the grand opening. Zack would come to the hospital after his donor meeting. At that point, Mieka would join us and we’d take the rest from there.

  Like most well-laid plans, ours went awry. Zack had already left and Madeleine and I were just going out the door when Lauren Treadgold called. She wanted to talk to Zack, and there was an unsettling edge of hysteria in her voice. When I explained that our granddaughter was in the hospital, Lauren was dismissive. “I hope she gets well soon. Look, Zack has to get Vince to talk to me. It’s urgent. He won’t take my calls. Zack has to explain—”

  I cut her off. “Lauren, I don’t mean to be rude, but Lena’s accident is about all we can deal with at the moment. Zack and I have done what we could to help you and Vince, but right now Lena has to be our priority.”

  “Look, let me come over, just for five minutes. You’ll understand then,” she said. Her voice was ragged. “This isn’t just about Vince and me any more. Something’s happened that could affect the Racette-Hunter project.”

  “All right,” I said. “I was just on my way out the door. Could you come over now?”

  “I’ll be right there,” she said.

  After I got Madeleine settled with a book upstairs in Taylor’s room, I came down to wait for Lauren. She arrived in less than fifteen minutes. She was wearing a form-fitting red wool coat, a black cashmere scarf, and knee-high leather boots with six-inch heels. As always, Lauren’s makeup and hair were immaculate, but even the most skilful application of concealer couldn’t hide the bruising around her eye. When Willie and Pantera came to check her out, Lauren patted them absently. Then, still wearing her coat and boots, she followed me into the living room and sat on the couch.

  “Have you opened your e-mail this morning?” Lauren asked.

  “No,” I said. “With Lena in the hospital, it’s been a little busy around here.”

  “So you haven’t seen the video,” she said. “It was sent to every member of the Racette-Hunter working team. I’m amazed no one has called to ask me to resign yet.”

  “Lauren, I can’t imagine what kind of video—”

  “Just take a look.”

  I went to our room and got my laptop. When I came back, Lauren patted the place beside her on the couch and I balanced the laptop on my knees and opened my e-mail. I scrolled down the list of senders and found only one unfamiliar name: Supporters of Racette-Hunter. The subject line was “Serving the Community?” There was no message, only an attachment. I opened it and watched for a few seconds. It began with a close-up of a man’s erect penis. The camera travelled slowly up his body, lingering on his navel and nipples. I was hoping that when I saw the face it would not be one I recognized. But of course the man was Julian. He was sleepy-eyed and incredibly erotic. He reached up languidly, took the camera, and began filming Lauren, starting with her genitals, circling her breasts, finishing with a close-up of her mouth as she bent, laughing softly, to fellate him.

  “Do you think Julian sent this to the members of the working team?” I said.

  Her headshake was vehement. “No. Not a chance. Julian wanted me to erase it as soon as we were finished.”

  “Well, if Julian didn’t, who else would have had access to your camera?”

  Lauren’s lovely face was knifed with pain. “It must have been Vince,” she said. “I don’t remember where I left the camera. But if Vince found it, he would have wanted to see what was on it.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “Why would Vince want people to see you having sex with another man? He was devastated when he found out.”

  “Maybe,” Lauren said wearily, “but from the moment he walked into that bedroom, it was game on. Vince caught me having sex with Julian. Point for him. Vince punched me. Point for me.” Her fingers touched her cheekbone. “Vince sends people whom I respect a sex video of Julian and me, and thus scores the winning point. Now anyone who looks at my face will think I got what I deserved. My whole life is crumbling,” she said. “Zack has to convince Vince to talk to me.”

  “Are you hoping for a reconciliation?” I said.

  “No. I only want to be with Julian. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved. The night of my birthday party at the club, I knew that Julian was my last chance. I’m forty-five years old.”

  “Lauren, numbers are just numbers. I’m fifty-seven. The best years of my life have been since Zack and I met. I was fifty-four then.”

  “And Zack was rich,” Lauren said. “Don’t leave that particular factor out of your equation. Julian will never earn the kind of money Zack and Vince do. I need Vince to take care of me the way I’ve been taking care of him.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “And I can’t explain,” Lauren said. “Zack has to convince Vince to talk to me.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to him. That’s all I can do,” I said.

  I walked Lauren to the elevator. She was a wan figure. I searched for words of comfort. “Lauren, this will pass,” I said. “You’re in for a couple of weeks of misery, but after that people move on to their own concerns. Nothing lasts forever.”

  “Let’s hope,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

  When I went back inside to get Madeleine, I noticed that Lauren had left behind her scarf. I picked it up and folded it. The scent of her perfume clung to the cashmere. Lauren was a woman who had everything and nothing. I was worried about her and I was grateful she’d left her scarf behind. Returning it would give me an excuse to check up on her later in the day.

  When Madeleine and I arrived in Lena’s hospital room, Zack was already there, in full flourish, reading Charlotte’s Web. He had an actor’s voice, large and warm, and he brought genuine feeling to Fern Arable’s plea that her father spare the life of the runt of the piglet litter.

  Zack greeted us with mock formality. “We have visitors, Lena,” he said. “We’ll have to resume our story later.”

  Lena’s face pinched with concern. “Does Fern’s father kill the piglet?”

  “The piglet lives,” Zack said.

  Lena beamed. “Cool.” Her cast looked very large and she looked very small, but her colour was good, and she was obviously excited to see her sister. “I’ve been thinking. Tomorrow when you take Maddy to school, can you go to my classroom and tell Madame LePage and everyone in my class what happened to me? They’ll probably want to make me a giant card. That’s what we did when Emily H. broke her leg.”

  “I’ll tell them.” Madeleine went to her sister and touched the cast tentatively. “Does your arm hurt?”

  “Sometimes. The doctor says it’ll hurt less every day and I’ll be doing cartwheels by summer.” She looked into her sister’s face. “Maddy, could you get into bed with me?”

  Madeleine climbed up next to her sister. “You can keep reading now, Granddad,” Lena said contentedly. And so, side by side, the girls listened as Zack read the story of Wilbur the pig and his amazing journey. When Lena’s eyes grew heavy, she wriggled farther under the covers and fell asleep. Madeleine slid out of bed. “Let’s go back to the condo for a while,” I said. “Your sister needs her rest. We can come back later.”

  “Okay,” Madeleine whispered, and she picked up her coat.

  “Granddad and I need to talk for a minute,” I said. “We’ll just be out in
the hall.”

  Zack followed me into the corridor. “What’s up?”

  “Lauren Treadgold paid me a visit just before Madeleine and I left for the hospital.”

  “Did she tell you about the video of her getting it off with Julian?”

  “We watched it together on my laptop.”

  “That must have been grim.”

  “It gets worse,” I said. “I asked Lauren about the chance of reconciliation. She was adamant. She’s in love with Julian.”

  “He’s, what? Nineteen.”

  “Yes, nineteen – young enough to be Lauren’s son. Zack, the day we had lunch Celeste told me that Julian is just one of many very young men with whom Lauren has been involved. Celeste wanted me to tell you so that Vince would have leverage when the time came to discuss the terms of the divorce.”

  “And you decided to wait so we could have a nice weekend.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But now it’s time to face facts. According to Lauren, Julian is the only man she’s ever loved, and she’s determined to have a life with him. This morning Lauren was frank about the fact that she’s going to need a very generous settlement from Vince to subsidize her life with Julian.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Zack said. “Vince is a fair guy, and I know he’s planning to offer Lauren a decent settlement, but if she’s expecting a bundle she’s not going to get it. Especially now that the video of her and Julian having sex is making the rounds.”

  I shook my head. “Lauren seems to think she has a secret weapon. She’s desperate to talk to Vince. She said, and I quote, ‘I need Vince to take care of me the way I’ve been taking care of him.’ ”

  “Meaning?”

  “Lauren said she couldn’t tell me. Zack, I promised her I’d ask you to have Vince get in touch with her.”

  “I can do that,” Zack said.

  Lena was awake when we went back into the room. “Maddy’s going to stay with me, Mimi.”

  “That’s good. Now I’m going back to the condo, is there anything I can bring for any of you?”