by CJ Murphy
“And how on earth can that be with a smile like that?” Val placed her hand on her heart and turned her head in mock disbelief.
Laurel looked off into the distance. “I guess I’m holding out for someone who makes me feel like my gram said my grandfather did. I just haven’t met her yet.”
“Your gram said you play for my team.”
Laurel crinkled her nose and quirked an eyebrow. “I think that’s a story for another day. Eat your crisp. Looks like your crew over there is itching to get back on the road, Viking.”
Laurel was abruptly drawn back into the present by the entrance of a young woman wearing scrubs and a surgical cap into the waiting room. They were the only people occupying the space. “Are you the Stemple’s here for Val Magnusson?”
“Yes,” Beth said.
“May I sit down?” the woman asked.
Laurel felt her anxiety ratchet up as her heart began to race. Sweat formed above her lip and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. “Yes, of course. My name is Laurel, and this is my grandmother, Marie. This is my friend Beth.”
The doctor pulled off her surgical cap and ran her fingers through her sweaty hair. “Thank you, it’s been a long day. My name is Dr. Ellis. I’m the trauma surgeon on her case. I’m sorry I haven’t made it out to see you yet. I’ve been in the operating room. She’s in the recovery room right now.”
Laurel watched as her grandmother wrung her hands. Still missing vital information, Laurel probed. “How is she?”
“Stable,” Dr. Ellis replied.
Beth put a hand up. “Wait, let me take notes. I’m waiting for a call from her parents.” After digging around in the massive purse that Laurel had always made fun of, she produced a small pad of paper and a pen. “Okay, go ahead.”
Dr. Ellis held her stethoscope in her hands, fiddling with it while she spoke. “It seems she had some injuries from her military service. We didn’t see any further injury to her amputation. She was bleeding internally. Her spleen had to be removed, but she can live without that. She also has a fracture of her right scapula and several severe tears in her rotator cuff. Those issues will have to be addressed in a future surgery after she’s more stable. It’s a good thing she was wearing a helmet, because she still has a pretty serious concussion. Other than that, there’s no major brain trauma. Overall, she’s pretty damn lucky. She’s beat up, but alive, and I intend to keep her that way. Right now, I need to get back and review a few more of her tests. She’ll be in the SICU, so I can’t tell you how soon you can see her. Do you have any questions that I can try to answer?”
Laurel looked up at the doctor, confused and searching for questions that should be asked. “God, a million things. I’m assuming the blood loss and spleen injury are her most critical issues?”
The surgeon nodded. “For now. I’ll consult with the other surgeons as to what to address next and when. Right now, her body needs to heal a bit,” Dr. Ellis said as she rose. “If her parents call, I’ll be happy to talk to them if I’m available. Just have the hospital operator page me. If I can come, I will.”
Through her quiet tears, Laurel said, “Thank you, Doctor Ellis.” She tried to process the new information that seemed improbable. Prior military injuries? Amputation? What the hell? That doesn’t make any sense. Val never mentioned any of those things. Her mind felt like it was in the industrial blender they had back at the diner. She rubbed her temples.
“You’re welcome. In the meantime, there are some private waiting areas that are much more comfortable. I’ll have the receptionist direct you to one.”
“That’s mighty kind of ya.”. You take care of our girl. Sounds like she’s got a rough road to travel. Apparently, she’s no stranger to that.” Ree’s voice dropped off, revealing her own sadness.
“From the looks of her previous injuries, I’d say you’re right, ma’am.”
Dr. Ellis left them while the receptionist directed them into a private waiting room with a coffee pot and comfortable couches. As she walked to the door, she turned to them. “If there are any major changes, you’ll be updated as soon as possible. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Laurel couldn’t sit. She felt queasy and unbalanced. Questions ticked off in her mind as she walked to the windows looking out onto a practice field. Flashes of blue and gold faded in and out of her field of vision. She pressed her warm forehead to the cool glass, trying to process the information and falling far short of any answers.
Beth came up beside her and wrapped her arms around her from the back, resting her chin on Laurel’s shoulder. “It’s going to be ok. Don’t make yourself crazy. Want a cup of coffee?”
Laurel shook her head no and started to pace, trying to push back the panic that bubbled below the surface.
Twenty minutes later, Beth’s cellphone rang. Laurel came over to sit on the couch beside her. “Hello, this is Beth Abernathy.”
The voice on the other end was so loud Laurel could hear it just by sitting next to Beth. Their conversation seemed to ring throughout the quiet room. “Ms. Abernathy, this is Amanda Magnusson, Val’s mother. How is she?”
“Please call me Beth, Mrs. Magnusson.” Beth told her all they knew so far.
“That damn motorcycle. If she hadn’t been on it in the first place, she wouldn’t be hurt.” Val’s mother sounded distraught, her voice pitching louder.
Laurel winced at Val’s mother’s shouting and watched her friend try to be sensitive to Mrs. Magnusson’s distress. She defended Val, though, too. “The accident wasn’t her fault. Someone ran an intersection and hit three of the riders.”
“I’m sorry. I know Val is careful. She’s my only child. I almost lost her to the war and now this.” There was a long pause, and Laurel had to strain to hear Val’s mother’s next words. “Do you have children, Beth?”
“No, I don’t. That doesn’t mean I can’t understand your fear. Val’s important to us.”
“She almost died in Iraq. I’ll be on the next flight east.” Amanda’s voice trembled slightly.
Laurel tried to put in yet another piece of new information about Val’s past. Her mother said she almost died. How could I not know any of this? Have I just not been listening or does Val not talk about it? She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, pressing her thumbs to her temples. She had more questions now than she’d ever had.
Beth hung up her phone. “Seems her mother will be on the next flight east.”
“Sounds like she’s mad at our Viking.” Ree pointed to her ears. “Even with these old ears I could hear her shoutin’.”
“She’s upset. I don’t think she cares much for Val’s love of motorcycles.” Pantomiming, Beth rolled her wrists back like she was riding one.
“Unless I miss my guess, our Viking doesn’t give a damn what others think, including her momma.” Ree chuckled, coming to sit by Laurel, rubbing her back. “She’s gonna be okay.”
Laurel, who’d barely gotten herself under control after listening in to the phone conversation, stood and walked to the windows looking out at the football stadium. “In all the conversations we’ve had over the years, she’s never mentioned anything about her parents other than what they did for a living. I have no idea if they’re even close. Somehow, I’d think if they were, we’d know more about them. She made sure the hospital would tell us about her injuries. Don’t you think it’s strange she never mentioned to the staff about calling blood relatives? I hope this wasn’t the wrong thing to reach out to her parents.”
Ree walked up to her and put her arm around her waist. “No matter what, honey, they’re her family. They should be told. What happens after that is up to all of them.”
Laurel whispered now. “I’m scared, Gram. She could have died, and I’ve never told her how I really feel.”
“Sometimes it takes us almost losing something to realize how important they are to us. Ya still have that chance. What happens now is up to you two.” Ree walked away from her, leaving her standing loo
king out at the white lines marking each yard on the practice field. Laurel vowed that if she got the chance, she’d tell Val how she felt.
Chapter Five
VAL WOKE UP FROM the anesthesia haze in a great deal of pain. Her mouth was as dry as it had been while she was in the desert. Mindlessly searching for her lip balm, a surge of white-hot pain shot down her arm. The pain cleared the haze, and she tried to raise her head to look around. Monitors hung above her, droning out steady beeps of her heart on the screen.
“Oh, what fresh hell can this be?” she murmured, quoting Dorothy Parker. The fog began to clear a little more, and she looked at her right arm. It was in a large bulky immobilizer. Well that sucks. I’m fucking right handed. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed ground glass. She’d been intubated. Her head felt like it had been used as a soccer ball. Each time she tried to look around, the light caused knifelike pain. On the top of the scale was an intense pain in her abdomen. Val used her left hand to gently seek out the source of the pain.
A soft voice broke through the equipment noise. “Hey, look who’s joined us. Welcome back from your nap, Rip Van Winkle.” A warm hand captured her exploring one.
She squinted, unable to focus or recognize the voice. Somehow it was familiar. She knew it, and yet, it just wouldn’t come to her. “Can I have some water?”
“I can get you some ice chips, no water yet. I’ll be right back.”
While the voice was gone, Val again tried to take inventory of her pain. Her left foot hurt. That had to be phantom pain because that foot had been gone for a long time. There were times she’d wake up in a nightmare and forget. Jumping from the bed to run, she’d crash to the floor trying to take a step on the limb that no longer could perform that duty without the prosthesis. From her inventory, she cataloged three major areas of pain: head, shoulder, and belly. She struggled to remember what had happened. A spoonful of ice chips appeared in front of her lips.
The voice she was still trying to identify came again. “Not too many now. Just let them melt in your mouth.”
Laurel. Turning her head to look at the figure by her side, she croaked, “What happened?”
“There was an accident. A kid ran an intersection and hit you and two other bikes.”
It all flashed back in a second with terrifying clarity. The impact, the sound of crunching metal and squealing tires came rushing back. “Laurel, are John and Marion okay? They were right in front of me.”
“Shhh, you’ll get me thrown out of here. They only let me in because you wouldn’t settle down.” Laurel put a gentle hand on her uninjured shoulder. “John and Marion are fine. The bikes behind you got a little beat up. Unfortunately, you took the brunt of it.”
“How bad?”
“You’re pretty beat up.”
Val furrowed her brow, irritated. “Not me, Maggie May.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“My bike.” Val tried not to be petulant.
“Oh. I don’t know. I’ll call Bobeye later. He picked it up. We were only worried about you, you blockheaded Viking.” Laurel stroked her fingers through Val’s locks that fell haphazardly across her forehead.
Val chuckled at the nickname, gasping as the movement sent pain shooting through her body.
“Be still now or I’ll have to leave. That pain in your belly is from the operation to save your life. You nearly bled to death.” Laurel held another spoon of ice chips to Val’s lips, which Val sucked on gratefully.
“Do you have anything to put on my lips?” Val raised her left arm and ran her finger across her dry lips. “They feel like I’m back in the desert.”
Laurel reached into her pocket, pulled out the small tube, and rubbed the soft stick across Val’s dry lips. “Better?”
“Much, you’re an angel of mercy. Now how about you tell me how bad this all is in a little more detail, now that I know Maggie May’s in good hands,” Val said, her eyes roaming her own form that lay under the bleached white sheet covered by a thermal blanket.
Laurel explained what her condition was in more detail. She looked down at Val’s left leg. “You’ve got a lot of bumps and bruises that will have you sporting several lovely shades of blue, purple, and yellow soon.”
With the humor fading, Val replied, “Funny, a real comedian you are. How messed up is my prosthesis?”
“Pretty messed up. Took a direct hit and came off in the melee.”
“Fuck. It’ll take me forever to break in a new one. Took me almost six months to get that one the way I wanted it where it wasn’t causing sores.” Val scowled, raising her left hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes to look at Laurel.
Laurel’s eyes grew soft. “Of all the things we’ve talked about in the last few years, you never mentioned you’d lost your leg.”
Val sighed and closed her eyes. Few people knew outside of her doctors, her family, and a few women she’d let close enough to see her au naturel. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to know, I just never talk about it. I’ve spent a long time perfecting my gait. I don’t need anyone to pity me. I don’t talk about it, because I don’t like to remember how it happened. For the record, my elbow is a replacement, too, titanium. I guess if they have to replace my shoulder joint, you can call me Borg instead of Viking.” Val tried to summon a smile that fell short.
Pointing to herself, Laurel quirked a smile. “Trying to take my new job?”
“What?” Val said.
“Comedian. I think we’ll stick with Viking. You’re a warrior. Get some rest. Your mom should be here in a few hours.”
Val tried to rise from the bed, her pain the only thing forcing her to lie back down. Her head swam. “Oh, for fucks sake! How does she know about this? How long have I been out?” Her relationship with her mother was strained under the best of circumstances. This would likely be the straw that broke the camel’s back. She didn’t need her condescending tone or her self-centered attitude, especially not now.
The monitors began beeping all around the hospital bed. Laurel rushed to calm her. “Hey now, don’t make me bring Gram back in here to put you in line.”
“Ree is here? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Val forced herself to be calm, though anxiety still flowed through her. Val knew Ree rarely left the mountain and worried about her.
“No, Beth drove us over here. I’ve sent her to the hotel to rest. Beth’s going to pick your mom up at the airport and bring her over.” Laurel placed a cool palm against Val’s heated cheek.
Val leaned into the touch, drawing strength from the woman beside her. She tried to release her clinched jaw. “Just tell me my father isn’t coming?”
“I don’t have any idea. Beth talked to your mom, but there was no mention of your dad.”
Val tried to put it all together and rubbed at her face. Her head throbbed. The thought of her mother’s arrival left her nerves raw. “How did you guys even know to call her? I don’t even have her listed as an emergency contact in my phone.”
Laurel filled in the pieces. “You told me that your dad was a professor of Norse history at the University of Washington when we first time we met. Beth looked up the contact number for the school and called. They took Beth’s information and eventually, your mother called her back.”
“I’ll bet that was pleasant conversation.” Val rolled her head back and forth. She stopped as a wave of nausea hit.
“You could say that. Beth did say she was concerned, though she did curse your preference of transportation.”
“She hates it and never fails to tell me about it as I pass through.”
Laurel winced. “I’m sorry, Val, we didn’t know.”
Val closed her eyes and reached for Laurel’s hand. Their fingers entwined, and a small wave of peace washed over her. She thought about the family drama she didn’t wish on her worst enemy. She knew how her mother would be. Amanda Magnusson craved attention and adoration. Neither of which she got from her only child. She garnered it from her man
y fans as a popular award-winning journalist. The infamous Mrs. Magnusson would come in like a hurricane, full of crocodile tears and looking for someone to fawn over her.
“It’s not your fault…we haven’t been close in a long time. I guess I followed somewhat in her footsteps by becoming a journalist. That’s about all we have in common, aside from our looks.”
“You look like your mom?”
“Almost identical, other than hairstyle. Mother is much more to the feminine side. My build and height come from my father.” She pointed to her cheek. “This face is all hers.”
“So, I’ll get to see what you’ll look like as you age?”
Val rolled her head to the side slowly, her long bangs falling over her brow. She and her mother did share the pale blond hair color, although she was sure by now her mother’s was the result of a pricey Seattle salon. “Hardly, let’s just say she looks more like my sister than my mother. She keeps the plastic surgeons busy.”
Laurel stroked the stray wave of hair out of Val’s eyes. “Oh, Val, that’s cruel.”
“Truth hurts. She’s never gotten over me enlisting and coming home less than whole.” Val closed her eyes against the light.
“I’m glad you came home. I’m sorry, Val, I really am.”
“It’s not your fault. My family has always been dysfunctional. I’ll be surprised if my father even knows. Mother will want all the sympathy for herself.” Val fought a yawn.
“Why don’t you rest? I’ll go.” The monitors once again raised an alarm. “Hey, calm down.”
Val held Laurel’s hand tighter. “Don’t go, please.”
“Ok, settle down. Sleep now. I’ll be right here.” Laurel interlaced her fingers with Val’s.
Val lay back and closed her eyes, trying to process everything. Sleep and exhaustion eventually claimed her, the hand she still held tightly in her own anchored and grounded her in her sea of pain and anxiety.
Chapter Six
EVEN THROUGH A LIGHT doze, Val could tell her mother had entered her room. The smell of her signature perfume enveloped her, overwhelmingly familiar and sickeningly sweet. “Hello, Mother.” She felt Laurel’s hand shift in hers. She used the touch to calm her anxiety.
