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.”
“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.