Now, she is doing everything she can to stay calm and in control. Mindy is so strong, so driven, so determined—so perfect—and seeing her daughter broken and bleeding in the snow, and now unconscious on this impersonal bed, breaks something inside her. She doesn’t want to be overly emotional in front of Mindy, who hates scenes. Keeps Lauren at arm’s length when she makes a fuss. Mindy has a cold, calculating streak in her—which is why she is such a brilliant athlete and competitor. She can turn the emotions off and on at will. It is a trait Lauren continually worries about. Did Mindy get it from her? From Jasper? They are both excellent compartmentalizers. Have they done their only child a disservice by being overly rational?
Oh, her leg...it looks hideous. Lauren doesn’t want to think about what this accident might mean. Lesser injuries end careers. And she doesn’t know what will happen to her little girl if she can no longer ski.
A burly dark-haired man comes into the room. “I’m Joe, from radiology. I’m going to take her to X-ray now. You guys stay here. We’ll be back in fifteen.”
“Can’t we come?” Lauren asks.
“We’re going three doors down. You can come if you want, but trust me, I’ve got her.”
She gives the boy her best mother look, a steely-eyed glance that usually makes even the strongest young people quake in their boots. He smiles. “Come on then, let’s go.”
The X-rays are quick. Lauren has a hard time watching. The radiographs pop up on the screen, one after another. The angles of Mindy’s bones are so wrong, and the very thought that she is seeing under Mindy’s skin makes her stomach queasy. It’s too intimate. At least Mindy is still out cold from the morphine and doesn’t feel the chilly steel of the plate beneath her, doesn’t hear the snick and whir of the X-ray camera, doesn’t hear her father peppering the tech with questions. She lies inert under a thick lead apron to protect her as Joe from radiology takes shot after shot. Lauren knows Mindy will be furious when she finds out. She is private, her daughter. Aloof. Protective of her personal space, even from her parents.
The tech won’t answer Jasper’s questions, and Lauren can see them both getting frustrated. “We aren’t allowed to give opinions,” Joe says for the third time, but mutters under his breath so that they overhear the dreaded words: “Compound fracture of tibia and fibula.”
The rest are denials.
“Can’t say for sure.”
“The surgeon will talk to you.”
“Bad break, yes.”
True to his promise, they are back in the room in fifteen minutes flat.
Jasper begins his research into Mindy’s injury, fingers flying on his phone. Lauren fusses with the pillow, trying and failing to get her daughter’s head to stay in a spot that looks comfortable. A tall blonde, all messy ponytail and shiny engagement ring, walks in, glances at the chart, lifts the medicated towel and looks at Mindy’s leg, then faces Lauren and Jasper.
“Hey, Mom and Dad. Got yourself a tough girl here. We saw the crash. We’re lucky she only broke her leg.”
“You were watching?” Jasper asks, and despite himself, his face glows with the praise and attention. He’s a stage mother of the worst sort when it comes to Mindy’s talent. It makes Lauren happy. It is the only way they can manage the pressure of having an athlete of this caliber. He is in charge of Pride; Lauren is responsible for Humility. They needn’t worry—Mindy’s charm belays all. She is what they call the real deal—a tough, hardworking athlete who recognizes her gifts but doesn’t let them go to her head. She has no close friends, but she has the respect of the skiing world, and that is more important to her than sleepovers and proms and whispered secrets in the night.
They’ve done well with her. Yes, perhaps Lauren too has a dash of pride for producing this remarkable creature.
“Watching our hometown girl? You betcha. It was a horrible crash, and too bad, she totally had the best run going.” She crosses her arms over her chest, the ring winking in the light, and is suddenly forbidding, like an angel of wrath descending on the room. “So, brass tacks. We’ve already called Dr. Stuart. He’s our best orthopedic surgeon. We sent an SUV to get him here safely. The storm’s getting worse, but he’s coming in to work on Mindy. We’re going to take her straight to the OR and see what’s what.”
Taking possession of their daughter, like she’s a car being repossessed. Lauren steps in front of the bed, effectively blocking Mindy from view. “I’m sorry, but who are you again?”
“Oh, sorry, Mom. I’m Dani, Dr. Stuart’s PA. I’ll be assisting Dr. Stuart in the surgery.”
“Surgery?” they say in unison, concern bleeding through. They can’t help it, they’re parents, after all.
“It’s the only way to put these bones back together. Dr. Stuart will come in and explain everything to you afterward, but we have to get the wound cleaned out before a bacterial infection starts. These open fractures can get nasty. He’ll most likely need to put in a rod to stabilize things. It’s going to be rough for Mindy for the next few weeks, but you’ve raised a seriously tough girl, and she’s in great physical shape. She’ll be back on the slopes in no time.”
Abhorrent visions dance through Lauren’s head: her girl limping around, her leg permanently scarred. What will she think of this mar on her otherwise smooth and perfect beauty? Lauren has no idea how Mindy will react. She has no scars on her lean body, a miracle, considering. Will she freak out, beg for plastic surgery? Be stoic, wear it like a badge of honor? If Lauren is honest with herself, she thinks it will be the latter. Mindy is so tough, so unlike other girls her age. No, a scar won’t faze her.
Movement, a whispered gasp from the bed. “Mom?”
Lauren grabs Mindy’s hand. She is groggy and pale, and Lauren’s heart constricts. Oh God. My baby. I don’t know if I can handle this. Why can’t I be the one who’s hurt? Why can’t I shoulder this pain?
“Don’t move, sweetie. Your leg is broken. You need surgery.” She can’t help it; tears roll down her cheek.
“I know. Don’t cry, Mom. It will be okay. This happens. They’ll fix me.”
Brave, so brave. Comforting Lauren. At the sting of the role reversal, Lauren sniffs and smiles, pulls herself together.
“Yes, tough girl, they will. You’re going to be just fine. Dr. Stuart is the best orthopedic surgeon on staff.”
The PA slaps the chart back into place. “That’s right, Mindy, we’re going to fix you right up. So kisses and hugs, family, it’s time to put this little egg back together again.”
As instructed, they kiss and hug their drawn, pale daughter. They stay strong. They assure and pet. There are no more tears, no more weaknesses allowed. If Mindy is going to be strong, then damn it, so will they.
Yet, as they wheel her away, Lauren has a moment of sheer panic. A premonition of sorts. Something is not right with their world. Little does she know, this is only the beginning.
*
The surgery is estimated to take just under an hour. They are in an impersonal, yellow-walled room with brown couches covered in industrial-strength faux leather, the kind that looks like it will withstand a knife attack or a pack of rabid dogs.
Lauren can’t sit. How can she sit? Her daughter is anesthetized, effectively dead, having a metal rod screwed into the fragile bones of her leg. Jasper doesn’t seem nearly as concerned. After looking up the doctor and seeing that he is the number one orthopod for local skiers and sanctioned by the Vail Ski Club, he’s settled in, drinking coffee and making phone calls, updating friends to Mindy’s status, talking to her coach, Steve Hakuri, who is stuck on the mountain in the blizzard, waiting to find out if they are going to keep running the race when the storm clears. The speaker is on so Lauren can hear both ends of Jasper’s conversation—Steve seems to think they are going to call the whole event, which means Mindy will still have the overall lead, and almost more importantly, enough World Cup points to qualify for the Olympic team.
Lauren doesn’t know if they’ll get that lucky. Jasper gives her a chin-up motion from five feet away. The room—the disgusting yellow-and-brown room—is small, but she doesn’t think she’s ever felt farther away from him than she does right now.