Find Wonder in All Things

chapter 19

Because the Harvilles and John Benwick planned to leave for California right after the Fourth of July holiday weekend, Stuart and Virginia Pendleton decided to invite everyone on a two-day, houseboat excursion. The weather promised to be hot and sunny, so Dylan and James said they would also bring their motor boats along for skiing.

“I’m terrible at skiing,” Carrie pouted. “It’s all I can do to get up on two skis. I’m not like Stu, who can ski on one. Even Heather’s better than me.”

“I don’t know about that,” Heather answered. “I haven’t skied on one in a few years. I might have forgotten how.”

“It’s like riding a bike; you never forget,” James reassured her. She beamed at him in return.

“Do you ski a lot in California?”

“Yeah, we go when we can.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, Carrie,” Virginia encouraged her as she packed a cooler into the ski boat. “I’m going to ride in the houseboat with Stu, Eric, Millie, Susan and Gary.” She counted them on her fingers as she listed each one. “Dylan, Crosby and Spring will take Dylan’s boat and meet us at the campground, and John’s going with James and the girls in his boat. What do you want to do, Laurel?”

“I don’t care. I’ll ride with you . . . ”

“Why don’t you ride with us?” John asked as he approached the boat with a slalom ski under one arm and a couple of life jackets under the other. “You know the lake better than any of us; you can make sure we don’t get lost on the way.”

“Sure, if you like.”

“Great, that’s settled, then.” John gave her an affable smile. They had developed a comfortable friendship over the last several days, and the results were not lost on Eric Harville. A few nights before, he had pulled Laurel aside and said low in her ear, “I don’t know what you said to John that night at James’s house, but whatever it was, I’m eternally grateful to you. He’s been better this past week than I’ve seen him in months — since Fiona got sick.”

“I’m sure it was nothing you hadn’t said to him before. Sometimes it just takes an objective person from outside the situation to validate a close friend’s opinion.”

“You’re a wonder, Laurel Elliot. Why hasn’t some lucky guy snapped you up yet?”

“You know, I wonder that myself sometimes.” She laughed, not completely at ease but better. Now that she knew James’s true opinion of her, she was doing her best to let go of the past and her lingering feelings of regret. She patted Eric on the shoulder and went into the other room before he could read too much into her expression.

Now, she told herself, she hadn’t a care in the world. The boat ride was marvelous, and in the bright morning sunshine, the five of them looked like something out of a beer commercial. John drove with James sitting beside him at shotgun, and the Pendleton sisters stretched out on the side seats, sunning themselves. Laurel lounged along the rear seat, reading the new John Grisham novel. She might not be as sexy as the Pendleton girls were in their bikinis, but she felt pretty enough in her violet one-piece and the gauzy cover-up tied about her waist. That feeling was validated when she saw James’s aviator-covered eyes turned her way. His mouth hung slightly open and she tilted her head to the side as if to ask ‘What?’ He closed his lips with a snap, sat up and turned toward the front, pointing out something in the landscape to John.

On the way to the campground, they all took turns skiing. Laurel had already been out a few times with Dylan and Crosby that summer, so she was fine after a couple of initial spills. John was charged with spotting for a while, but then he grew tired of watching the others and offered to drive. Carrie did her stint on two skis, just barely making it up and quickly signaling that she was ready to stop. Heather clamored for her turn, so James and John obliged her next.

“I want to slalom ski,” she insisted.

“Are you sure you want to try that right off the bat?” James asked while helping adjust the straps of her life jacket. “Two’s a little easier, especially if you haven’t been on skis in a while.”

“No, I can do one.” She threw the ski in the water behind the boat and jumped after it. As she wrestled with putting her left foot in, he called to her, “Not so tight on the boot. You want your foot to come out of it if you take a spill.”

“I don’t like the way it slips around on my foot.”

James shook his head but said nothing. John moved forward slowly, tightening up the rope. She grabbed the handle when it reached her, and the boat pulled her slowly through the water.

Laurel and Carrie shielded their eyes from the sun and watched as Heather tucked her right knee behind her left and curled into a little ball in preparation. She gave the thumbs-up, and John punched the gas. She disappeared behind the water spray for about ten seconds, but then she popped up to the surface — a brilliant smile on her face. The three of them clapped and shouted as she got her bearings and leaned back.

James signaled to ask her whether the speed was okay. Faster! she gestured, and John increased his speed accordingly. She was doing well and started to swing out over the wake, but she hesitated and drifted back behind the boat. She gestured again — Faster!

“She wants me to go faster?” John asked, incredulous.

“She just thinks she does.” James shook his head no, but Heather insisted, signaling again — Faster!

James rolled his eyes. “Fine! Speed up.”

John tossed him a wary look. “I don’t know, James.”

“That’s what she wants; let her have it.”

John bumped up his speed, and Laurel turned back from her spotting post. “Maybe you should slow down, John,” she shouted over the whine of the boat motor.

James shrugged. “She said she wanted to go faster.”

Laurel turned back around and resumed watching Heather, who responded by giving the okay signal. She was growing braver by the minute, moving from side to side, and expertly jumped the wake. As she picked up momentum and swung around almost beside the boat, Laurel scanned ahead of her for debris in the water that John, who was concentrating on driving, might miss. Suddenly, Heather swept back across the wake, racing to the opposite side.

Laurel saw the log, but her shout of warning was a second too late. She whirled around to get Heather’s attention, but her frantic gestures were futile. Heather never heard her or saw it coming. The next few seconds went by in sickening, slow motion. Heather hit the log and catapulted into the air, the rope flying out beside her. She crashed onto the surface of the water and somersaulted end-over-end as Laurel watched in horror. Then, with a terrific spray of blue-green water, she disappeared. When she resurfaced a few seconds later, time resumed its normal pace, and Laurel’s senses returned. She could hear James shouting at John to turn back. Carrie was screaming. John whipped the boat around and raced back to Heather, reducing speed as they approached her. She was face down in the water, limp and unmoving. When they were close enough, Laurel dove into the water without a second thought, turned Heather over and shouted back, “Someone help me! Hurry! She’s out cold; come help me!”

It was James who dove in and was beside them in a matter of seconds. They kept shouting to her to wake up even as they pulled her toward the boat. Carrie stood with her hands over her mouth, crying in silence. John killed the motor and helped them gently lift her up over the side and lay her flat. Thankful that her dad insisted they all keep their Red Cross training current, Laurel dug deep in her memory and went through the CPR assessment. “Heather, Heather, wake up!” She bent down and listened for breath. “She’s not breathing, but maybe the wind’s just knocked out of her or something.” She gave two rescue breaths.

“Jesus Christ, look at her foot!” James’s voice was low, but his face was pale and his eyes wide with fright. Heather’s foot jutted out at an unnatural angle.

“Never mind that. We’ve got to get her conscious first,” Laurel insisted. James moved up to do two man CPR.

“No,” she ordered in a calm but firm voice. “Does John know CPR?”

“I don’t know,” James answered, momentarily confused. “John?”

“Yeah!” John jumped up.

“Good. John, you help me. James, you know the lake better, so you drive. You remember Carter’s Ford dock — where it is?”

“Just up on the left, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Get us there. They’ve got a phone.”

The men switched places. Laurel was concentrating, her fingers on Heather’s wrist. “I’m getting a pulse; we won’t need compressions.” Carrie let out a sob.

Laurel gave another rescue breath, and there was a convulsive cough. They rolled Heather to her side and water leaked out her mouth.

“That’s good,” Laurel muttered. “She’s breathing now.” She heaved a sigh of relief.

“Almost there,” James shouted from the front. As they approached the dock, John took the wheel while James leapt out and took off toward the building about halfway up the hill. John and Carrie held the boat next to the dock while Laurel continued to monitor Heather for any change. She was breathing but still unconscious. Laurel didn’t dare move her for fear of doing more damage.

James ran back down the dock. “The ambulance is on its way. How is she?”

“No change,” Laurel replied.

John’s calm voice soothed Laurel’s jagged nerves. “You’re right to move her as little as possible. It’s best to let the professionals do that.”

After the ambulance arrived, Laurel and Carrie stepped back out of the way to let the EMTs tend to Heather. Laurel stood watching for a few seconds, her arm around a shaking Carrie, and then turned around to find James pacing back and forth in agitation, muttering to himself, a furious scowl on his face.

Laurel hesitated, but then she approached him, touching him on the arm.

“James, we need to find Stu.”

“What was she thinking?” his voice rough with anguish. “How could she be so careless? She hadn’t been skiing in years!”

“She just didn’t have enough experience to dodge the log, or she saw it too late.”

“I shouldn’t have let her go so fast. I shouldn’t have encouraged her.”

“James, it was an accident. It’s not your fault.”

He shook his head and swore.

“We need to find Ginny and Stu,” she repeated. “Can you take the boat back and look for them?”

A burly EMT with a handlebar moustache approached them. “Ma’am, she’s set to go. She’s stable, and we’ve got the foot immobilized, but she might have a concussion from hitting the water so hard. Who’s going with her to the hospital?”

“Well, that’s her sister over there . . . ” Laurel began.

James interrupted. “No, Laurel, you’re going with her. Carrie’s too upset to answer questions or anything.” He looked at the EMT and said with confidence, “Laurel will know what to do.”

Laurel glanced up at James in surprise. He looked back at her with a grim intensity. “I’ll take John and Carrie, and we’ll find the houseboat. We’ll meet up with you at the hospital as soon as we can get there, okay?”

She nodded.

“Take care of her.” James touched her arm, slid his hand down to hers, and squeezed it gently. “See you soon.”