Читать книгу Reunited With The Billionaire - Сандра Мартон, Sandra Marton - Страница 6
ОглавлениеIT WAS COLD THAT DAY, colder than usual, even for Norway. The sky was bright blue, the sun golden, the wind a gentle sigh.
Wendy stood poised in the chute at the top of the ski run. Excitement flowed through her blood like a river of quicksilver. She had never felt more alive.
“Empty your mind of everything but the mountain,” her coach said, and then the horn sounded. She dug her poles into the snow and began her run down the slope. Through the first gate. Through the second, and the third, and…
Too fast. Too wide on the turn. Recover, damn it! She’d made worse mistakes. Surely this wasn’t enough to make her lose control….
She flew through the air, bindings never releasing. Somebody screamed as she hit the netting and bounced over it.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, she thought with great clarity—and then she saw the trees…and the rocks.
After that, there was only blackness.
* * *
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, welcome to John F. Kennedy International Airport. Please keep your seats until the captain brings the plane to a complete stop.”
Wendy jerked awake. A dream. That’s all it was, just a dream. She hadn’t had it in a long time. Now she was returning to Cooper’s Corner for the first time in the nine years since the accident, and she’d had the dream again.
Welcome home, Wendy.
Whoever it was who’d said you couldn’t go home again had been right.
You can still change your mind, a little voice whispered. All she had to do was turn around and head back to Paris, where she’d been living for the past seven years. Yes, she’d given up her tiny flat in the Marais because she didn’t know how long she’d be gone, but she’d made friends. Gabrielle or Celeste would be happy to let her sleep on the sofa until…
Until what?
Wendy wasn’t about to regain the life she’d loved by teaching English to a bunch of French kids all day. One of the supporters of the American team had gotten her the job when she moved to Paris to continue therapy on her leg, but sitting in a stuffy classroom quickly lost its appeal even if your window looked out over a sea of chimney pots. She’d been born to schuss down a snow-covered mountain with the wind in her face, and if she was going to do that again—ski and race and feel as if she were truly alive—she had to go home. For a little while, anyway.
The 747 lurched to a stop. People unbuckled their seat belts, stood up, sought their carry-on luggage. Wendy clutched the handle of her duffel bag and followed the other passengers from the plane, through the terminal and to the line snaking toward Customs.
Even if she’d wanted to change her plans, it was too late. What excuse could she give? Her parents were expecting her, and her mother was ecstatic that she was coming home. Only her father knew the real reason for her visit, and she’d asked him not to say anything to her mother. Wendy would have to tell her the truth, but she’d do it face-to-face. Gina would take it better that way.
That’s what Wendy hoped, anyway.
And then there was Alison, driving the fifty or so miles from Cooper’s Corner to Albany Airport to meet the connecting flight from Kennedy. Wendy’s folks had offered to pick her up but she’d refused.
“You guys don’t have to take the day off,” she’d said when they’d phoned the last time. “I know how crazy things get at school. Besides, I haven’t seen Allie in years. This way, we’ll have time for girl talk.”
It was another half-truth. Gina and Howard had visited her every six months, but she hadn’t seen Alison in nine years. So, yes, it would be nice to spend some time with her—and if it also gave Wendy a little longer to adjust, out from under her mother’s watchful eye, so much the better.
Wendy reached the Customs counter and handed over her passport and declarations form.
“Nothing of value to declare?” the Customs officer said.
“Nothing,” Wendy replied briskly.
Nothing the government would want to hear about, anyway. Only Oprah or Ricki would lift an interested eyebrow if she said, “Well, actually, there’s a swarm of butterflies in my stomach right now because I’m coming home so I can convince a doctor to perform an operation my own physicians call insane.”
That kind of thinking wasn’t good. This was her life. She had to do what she thought best, and why have second thoughts now? The thing to do was concentrate on how great it would be to see Allie. They hadn’t done anything except talk on the phone since the night before the ski team left for France…
The same night Seth made love to her for the very last time.
The thought was so sudden, so unexpected that it almost stole her breath away. She must have made a sound because the Customs guy, who was holding out her passport, raised his bushy eyebrows.
“Miss? You okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine.” Wendy smiled brightly, took back her passport and walked to the exit doors that led into the terminal.
There was a sign just ahead. She paused to check the directions for the connecting flight to Albany. People brushed past her, everyone in a hurry to get somewhere. She was in a hurry, too. The sooner she got to Cooper’s Corner, the sooner she could get started on the future.
Once she’d reached the right terminal, she limped to the waiting area at the gate. Her leg ached something fierce. The doctors had warned her that it would, after all the hours in the air. Inactivity wasn’t good for bones that were held together with screws and steel plates. Muscles didn’t like stretching themselves for the benefit of all that hardware, either.
Not that she’d never had cramped muscles until the accident. A weekend of hard, competitive skiing had often left her feeling as if a sadist had tied her in knots. Seth would see her wince as she rubbed her calf or ankle, and he’d know she was hurting.
“Here,” he’d say, “let me help.”
She’d smile and put her foot in his lap—not easy to do in the confines of the cab of his old truck—and he’d knead her flesh gently, stroke her gently, and after a while a sensation that had nothing to do with pain would turn her bones to liquid.
“Miss?”
Wendy blinked. A middle-aged man had risen from his seat.
“Would you like to sit down?”
She wanted to. Lord, yes, she wanted to. Instead, she gave a thin smile. “Thank you, no.”
“I noticed…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh, noticed that your duffel looks heavy.”
“It isn’t,” she said, trying to sound polite.
Who was he kidding? What he’d noticed was the way she limped. She walked away as quickly as she could, never looking back, tired of people’s good intentions, tired of wanting to scream and tell them that trapped inside the woman with the limp was a girl who’d once been graceful, who’d flown down snow-covered slopes and through the gates like a hawk after a dove.
A sign blinked on. The commuter flight to Albany was boarding.
Not a moment too soon, Wendy thought, and didn’t slow her pace until she was on the plane and in her seat.
* * *
IT WAS THIRTY DEGREES in Albany, with a windchill that made it feel more like eighteen, according to the pilot’s cheerful landing announcement.
Wendy looked out the windows of the terminal as she made her way to the exit. Snow was piled in gigantic mounds. Fresh snow, from the pristine look of it. There’d been a time when she could tell how long snow had been on the ground just by the way the crystals reflected the light, especially on Jiminy Peak. Jiminy didn’t have the highest slopes in the area; compared with the mountains she’d skied in Colorado and Utah, Jiminy was hardly worthy of being called a mountain at all. But she’d skied there as a little girl, discovered her passion for speed on its trails, and it would always hold a special place in…
In what? Those days were gone. Damn it. Was a quick visit home turning her into a bundle of sloppy sentimentality?
An icy wind bit through her as she exited the terminal. She shivered, put down her duffel and zipped her anorak all the way to her chin. Her long, auburn hair was whipping around her face and she put up her hood and tucked the unruly curls inside while she looked around in search of Alison.
“I’ll meet you right outside the door,” Allie had said when they’d touched base a couple of days ago. And then she’d laughed and said how wonderful it was going to be to see each other again. “I can’t believe you’re coming home!”
“It’s just a visit,” Wendy had answered, correcting her oldest friend the same way she’d corrected her mother. Allie had said yes, sure, she understood that, but in a way that made it clear she didn’t believe it any more than Gina.
Snow began to fall, big, fat flakes. Wendy tugged a pair of gloves from her pockets and put them on.
That was all it was. A visit. She was here for a purpose, and if she was successful, she’d be ready to begin life again in a place that was free of memories. Not France, where she’d lived in a kind of twilight world these last years. Not Cooper’s Corner, where everything would only be a reminder of what had once been. She’d find a place where there were no ghosts, no shadows from the life she and Seth had once planned….
“Wendy?”
The snow was falling faster, tumbling down like feathers from a torn pillow in a heavily overcast sky. Someone was rushing toward her. A woman, bundled in a tweed coat.
“Wendy, oh my God, it’s really you!”
“Allie?” Wendy laughed and felt tears burn her eyes. “Allie,” she said, and she grabbed Alison Fairchild in a loving hug. “Oh, it’s been so long!”
The women held each other for long moments. Then they clasped hands, stepped back and grinned.
“I don’t believe it! Allie, you cut your hair!”
“Uh-huh.” Alison bit her lip. “Cut it and colored it, too. What do you think? Too big a change or what?”
“I think it’s wonderful! You look gorgeous!”
“Well, not gorgeous, but I finally figured that it couldn’t hurt to try and improve on Mother Nature. And talk about gorgeous…” Alison cocked her head and her gaze swept Wendy from head to toe. “You look terrific!”
Wendy’s smile tilted. “Yeah. Right.”
“I mean it. You haven’t gained an ounce, for which I just might not forgive you. No gray hairs in those red curls—and please, do not, I repeat, do not bother telling me women don’t get gray hairs at our age. Two years ago, and wham, there they were, silver threads among the gold. Not that the rest was gold then, but you know what I mean.”
“You used to talk about going blond when we were in our junior year, remember?”
Alison rolled her eyes. “Do I remember? How could I forget? There I was, everybody telling me I looked like Barbra Streisand—”
“A compliment,” Wendy said, falling into the old dialogue as if they were still in high school.
“Yes, if you’re la Streisand,” Allie said, picking up her end of the conversation with the same ease. “I may have her nose, but it doesn’t work on my face.”
“You don’t still believe that.”
“What I believe is that we’re going to turn into instant snowmen if we stand here much longer. Let me grab that duffel. My car’s in the first lot. Want to wait for the bus or—I mean, the bus stop is right—”
“I can walk.”
“Well, sure, but—”
“And I can carry my own bag.”
“I know, but—”
“Allie, listen. Let’s get this out of the way right now, okay?”
“Oh, hell. Wendy, I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t. I just want to set the record straight. I’m strong as a horse. Honestly, I am. I spent years in rehab. I still do hours of exercise each day. I can walk. I can carry stuff. I can do anything I want….” Her mouth twisted. “Anything but ski.”
Her voice broke on the last word. Horrified, she covered it with a cough. She’d only meant to let Alison know that she could handle the truth, but her emotions were right there on the surface. Well, why wouldn’t they be? The long flight, too much sitting still, and under it all, the persistent worry that the surgeon she’d come so far to see wouldn’t help her….
Alison was looking at her as if she didn’t know what to expect next.
Wendy smiled. “You know what?”
“What?” Allie asked cautiously.
“How about we get out of the snow? That terrific haircut’s getting plastered to your head.”
“Yeah. Good idea.” Alison cleared her throat. “So,” she said briskly, “you up for a stop at the Barn?”
“The…?” Wendy looped her free arm through Alison’s. Dipping their heads against the wind, they crossed the roadway and headed for the parking lot. “You mean the Burger Barn? Is it still there?”
Alison clucked in dismay. “Is it still there, she asks. Certainly, it’s still there, only a ten-minute detour on our way to town. Of course, you’re probably not into juicy, charcoal-broiled hamburgers and hot, crisp, salty fries after all these years of gourmet dining in gay Paree, but I thought, if there was the teeniest possibility that you were interested…”
“Gourmet dining?” Wendy laughed. “Not on a teacher’s salary. If I never see another hunk of cheese or sausage, it’ll be too soon.”
“You mean Mademoiselle DuBois was wrong?” Alison unlocked the car door and Wendy tossed her things into the back seat. “I thought it was supposed to be fromage and saucisson—much more exotic sounding.”
“Cheese and sausage are cheese and sausage, whether it’s French or English,” Wendy said. “Trust me.” She shut her door and looked at Alison, who was buckling her seat belt. “The Burger Barn would be paradise. Just tell me that the fries are still greasy.”
“Cholesterol City,” Alison said cheerfully.
“Does a straw still stand up in a chocolate shake?”
“Scout’s honor, nothing’s changed.”
“Great,” Wendy said, but in her heart, she knew that everything had.
* * *
ALISON TOOK THE LONG WAY home.
It was a pretty road that wound into the Taconic Mountains before they fell away into the more subdued contours of the Berkshires. The scenery, at least, was still the same. Cozy old houses, rolling pastures, deep forests mantled with white, and everywhere the sense that time had reached this place and decided to pause for a while before moving on.
Wendy sighed and laid her head back. “I’d forgotten how peaceful it is here.”
“Peaceful’s the word, all right.” Alison raised an eyebrow. “On the other hand…”
“What?” Wendy looked at her friend. “Something exciting happened in Cooper’s Corner?”
“Well…yeah, you could say exciting.”
“Don’t tell me. Let me figure it out.” Wendy put on an innocent look. “Philo and Phyllis Cooper decided to give up gossip.”
Alison laughed. “I said `exciting,’ not `unbelievable.’“
“Well then, you’ll have to tell me. What new and exciting stuff happened?”
“Well, Bonnie Cooper—remember her? Bonnie was on a date with a guy in New York and they witnessed a mob hit.”
Wendy sat up straight. “You’re kidding!”
“Cross my heart, it’s the truth. Oh, and we had a visitor go missing, too.”
“Somebody hiking in the fall?”
“No, it wasn’t like that. This was a guest at the B and B, and he—”
“What B and B?”
“Remember the old Cooper place? Twin Oaks?”
“Sure. Big house, up on the hill across from the green.”
“Uh-huh.” Alison glanced in the mirror, signaled a turn. The sound of the engine deepened as they started up a hill. Ahead, the red taillights of a snowplow blinked hypnotically in the haze of the falling snow. “Old man Cooper died and left the place to his niece and nephew. A sister and brother from New York. Well, originally they were from around here.”
“From Cooper’s Corner?”
“Yeah. They moved away when they were kids. Anyway, they came up to see the house, and the next thing anybody knew, they’d kicked out of their old lives and moved here. Caught most people by surprise, especially when they turned Twin Oaks into a B and B.”
“I can’t believe my parents haven’t mentioned any of this. But wasn’t the house in bad shape?”
“Not anymore. Clint and Maureen have done wonders. New paint, new wallpaper, and they found a load of old furniture in the attic that just needed cleaning and polishing.”
“And that did it? Fresh paint, old furniture and a good cleaning?”
“Well, no. There was more. Bonnie did the plumbing.”
“Good for her.”
“Yeah, I said that, too. She put in new bathrooms, did some stuff in the kitchen….”
Wendy tried to concentrate, but it was hard. They were approaching a traffic light that marked an intersection whose claim to fame was two mini-malls, one on either side of the road. The Burger Barn was a couple of miles past them.
Minutes after that, they would reach Cooper’s Corner.
Her heart gave a little lurch. She was almost home, and nothing that really mattered had changed. The roads were the same, and when they got to town, it would be the same, too. The village green, with its bronze Minuteman standing eternal guard; Main Street and its bundled-up tourists, eager to soak up what they saw as an authentic bit of New England. The windows of the little antique and crafts shops would still be bright with Christmas displays, even though the holiday was over.
The traffic light went from green to amber. The car slowed to a stop and a small knot of people crossed to the mall on the opposite side of the road. Wendy stared out the window. It was hard to identify anyone. People were hunched into their coats, ducking their heads against the snow. Not that she was searching for anyone in particular. Not that she was looking for—
“…Seth,” Alison said.
“What about him?”
She thought she’d spoken calmly, but from the way Alison looked at her, she knew she hadn’t quite pulled it off.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I was so busy trying to bring you up to date on what’s been happening that I… Just forget I mentioned him, okay?”
“Allie, there’s no problem. Come on. What were you going to say?”
“Just that Seth did the carpentry at Twin Oaks.”
“Seth is a carpenter?”
“A really good one. And it turns out he’s got a talent for building fine furniture, too. From the looks of things, he’s doing…” She hesitated. “Wendy? You sure you want to hear all this?”
“Why wouldn’t I? The past is the past.” Wendy cleared her throat. “It’s just a surprise, that’s all. When he and I… When I left town, Seth was taking business courses at the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts.”
“Yeah. I remember. He quit MCLA after your, uh, your accident. He went to work for somebody in Stockbridge, and a couple of years ago he opened his own shop here.” Alison hesitated. “He still doesn’t know you’re coming home?”
“No.” Wendy looked at Alison. “Not unless you told him. You didn’t, did you? Allie?”
“Of course not,” Alison said, a little stiffly. “You asked me not to.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s all right.”
It wasn’t, and Wendy knew it. She reached across the console and touched the other woman’s hand.
“Allie,” she said in a low voice, “it’s…it’s harder than I figured, you know? Coming home, I mean. So much time’s gone by…” She swallowed hard. “Maybe I’m more tired than I realized.”
“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to jump on you.” The light changed to green and Alison stepped on the gas. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to see him. I mean, it’s been a long time, but you and Seth—”
“There is no `me and Seth.’ There hasn’t been for years.”
“Yeah. That’s the point. When you left for Norway, you two were crazy about each other. The next thing we knew, it was all over. Seth wouldn’t talk about you, wouldn’t even say your name. And then you didn’t come back, and we all wondered—”
“There’s nothing to wonder.” Wendy’s voice turned cool. “I’d think people would have better things to do with their time than gossip.”
“It wasn’t gossip.” Alison slowed the car again, signaled a right and turned into the Burger Barn parking lot. She pulled into a space, shut off the engine and looked at Wendy. “We all cared about you. The whole town turned out to see you off. Remember? There were signs in the windows on Main Street, everything from Good Luck to Our Wendy to Bring Back the Gold. When you got hurt—”
“Allie.” Wendy put her hand over Alison’s. “That’s history. The Olympics, the accident, Seth…it’s all in the past. I have a new life now.”
“So does he.”
The simple words fell between them, as heavy as stones. Wendy looked at Alison. “You mean, that he’s become a carpenter?”
“Well, sure.” Alison fell silent, averted her gaze. “And—and other things.”
“Other things?” Wendy moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Ah. I see.” Could she sound casual about this? Yes. Of course she could. Funny that she’d never thought to ask before. “You mean, he’s married?”
“No. But he’s seeing someone. Her name’s—”
“I don’t need to know her name. Who Seth dates is none of my business.”
“It’s more than dating. They’ve been going together for a couple of months.” Alison shot a glance in Wendy’s direction. “I guess I shouldn’t have dumped the news on you like that, huh?”
“Don’t be silly.” Wendy stretched her lips in what she hoped was a semblance of a smile. “You know, if we sit here much longer, we’ll freeze.”
“Meaning, `Alison, that’s enough of that.’“
Wendy tried another smile. “Meaning, did you or didn’t you promise me a hamburger at the Barn?”
“Yeah, sure,” Alison said, but she didn’t move. “There’s one other thing. I know you said this was just a visit, but I hoped… You really aren’t staying, are you.”
Wendy shook her head. “No,” she said quietly, “I’m not.” She looked at Alison. “Does the name Rod Pommier mean anything to you?”
“Should it?”
“He’s a surgeon. From New York.”
“What kind?” Alison gave a quick laugh. “If he’s a plastic surgeon, maybe my nose and I will go to see him.”
Wendy knew it was a desperate attempt to lighten the situation, but nothing could do that. First all the talk about Seth, and now this. Well, telling Allie would be a dress rehearsal for telling her mother. Go for it, she thought, and took a steadying breath.
“He’s an orthopedic surgeon. They wrote him up in a zillion papers and magazines a few months ago.” Wendy lifted her hands and stretched out an imaginary banner. “`Rod Pommier,’“ she said in solemn tones, “`the brilliant young surgeon who’s developed a break-through bonding technique for healing shattered bones….’“
“Yeah? So what about…” Alison blinked. “Shattered bones?”
“Uh-huh. When the doctors pieced my leg together, they used pins and plates. That’s what they’ve done for decades. But Pommier’s found a new technique that allows joints to regenerate normally.”
“Interesting, I guess, except you just said your leg is already fixed.”
“Pommier’s method would make it as good as new. The thing is, he’s not taking on new patients. He’s booked for the next umpteen years, and besides, the procedure can be dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
“I don’t know. It has something to do with whether your bones are right for the technique or not.” Wendy gave a brittle laugh. “Of course, the real question is, if your bones don’t work right in the first place, how can they be wrong for it? Anyhow, I phoned Pommier. His receptionist wouldn’t put me through. I called the hospital where he’s on staff. They wouldn’t put me through, either. So I wrote him a letter, gave him a rough rundown on my accident…”
“And?”
“And,” Wendy said with a defeated sigh, “I got a letter back. He was very polite. He said he was sympathetic to my situation, yadda yadda yadda, but—”
“But he wasn’t interested.” Alison smiled sadly. “Sounds like a message on my answering machine after a blind date with some guy who’s a jerk.”
“That’s just the thing, though. I don’t think he’s a jerk. I think he’s just wrong about not wanting to take me on. If I can talk to him, face-to-face, I can change his mind.”
“Are you so sure this new thing he’s invented can help you? You had your accident years ago. The surgery—”
“The surgery,” Wendy said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “was a disaster. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault. He did everything he could, but pins and plates can’t make up for missing bone. This technique of Pommier’s can.”
“You think?”
“I know.” She tapped her fist lightly against her breastbone. “I can feel it. Maybe that’s not the most scientific appraisal, but it’s what I feel. I just need to talk to him, but he’s wary. And I understand why. Pommier’s being hounded to death by the media, by desperate patients….” Alison raised a brow, and Wendy colored. “Right,” she said, with something close to defiance, “desperate patients like me. That’s why he’s coming to Cooper’s Corner.”
Alison’s jaw dropped. “Huh? Wendy, honey, you’re losing me here.”
“Pommier wants to get away from everything for a few days. He’s coming to the Berkshires to ski. My dad’s a member of the ski club, remember? Well, so’s an orthopedist from Pittsfield who’s a friend of my father’s. It turns out he and Pommier did their residencies together, and Pommier wrote to him, asked him about the town, whether it was as off the track as it seems, and if he could recommend a place to stay.” Wendy caught her breath. “Hey. I bet he’s going to stay at the old Cooper place. Twin Oaks.”
“If he’s this big-deal celebrity, wouldn’t he stay in Lenox? Or in Stockbridge? I mean, I love Cooper’s Corner, but you have to admit it’s not big on glitzy amenities.”
“That’s the point, Allie. The man wants to be just another face in the crowd. No reporters. No microphones and cameras.”
“I see.” Alison let out a breath. It had grown chilly inside the car, and her exhalation puffed out like steam. She turned on the engine and gave a little shiver as heat began to seep from the vents. “So, that’s why you came back. To corner this guy.”
“Yes.”
“And convince him to operate on you.”
“Exactly.”
“Do your folks know? ‘Cause when I spoke to your mom the other day, all she could talk about was how thrilled she was that you were coming home.”
“My dad knows. My mother doesn’t. Don’t look at me that way. Don’t you think I feel guilty enough? I just think it’s best to tell her with my father there as backup.” Wendy sighed. “You have a face like an open book, Alison. You think this is a bad idea, don’t you?”
“I sure do. You said yourself the surgery’s risky. Well, why subject yourself to it?”
“Because I want a life, that’s why!”
“You have one. You lived when they thought you wouldn’t. Isn’t that enough?”
“No, damn it, it isn’t. Look, it’s hard to explain, but I’m not who I used to be. Can’t you see that?”
“Yes,” Alison said after a minute, “I can. So, you’re home just to get to this doctor. Not because of your mom or your dad or Seth—”
“Seth again!” Wendy flushed. “What does he have to do with this? I was eighteen. He was nineteen. Whatever we had was kid stuff.”
“That’s not how I remember it. You guys were always together. You had plans.”
“I just told you, it was—”
“Kid stuff. I heard you. But I was here when we all got word of the accident. How you’d fallen on that practice run—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Wendy said sharply.
“Seth was like a crazy man. He flew to Norway on the first flight out—”
“Stop it! That was a thousand years ago.”
“It was nine years ago, and I’ve never forgotten how he looked, like somebody whose world had been destroyed.”
“It was my world that was destroyed,” Wendy cried, “and I did whatever I had to do to survive.” The friends stared at each other, each breathing hard. Then Wendy turned away and grabbed the door handle. A frosty breath of snow blew into the car. “I can walk home from here.”
“Don’t be a fool.” Alison reached past Wendy, caught the handle and slammed the door shut. The women glared at each other for a couple of minutes and then Alison sighed. “Can we continue this conversation inside?”
No. They couldn’t, Wendy realized. All the talk about Seth and old times…the look on Alison’s face when she’d tried to explain that she couldn’t accept the path her life had taken… It had been confirmation that her original plan was the wisest one. Lie low, stay away from the old hangouts, and avoid going through this horrible little scene and the pity of old friends who couldn’t understand why she wasn’t grateful just to have survived.
“Wendy? Are we going for that burger or not?”
“I think I’ll pass,” Wendy said quietly. “My folks are expecting me.”
Alison nodded. “Of course.” She put the car in gear, backed out of the parking space, then put on the brakes and glared at Wendy again. “I’m your oldest friend! If I can’t tell you the truth, who can?”
“You don’t know the truth,” Wendy said, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “I’m the one this happened to. Me, not you, or the doctors, or the nurses, or the therapists with their sympathetic looks and endless exercises.” She pushed down her hood and dragged her hands through her tumbled auburn curls. “Sometimes I wish I’d died that day, instead of waking up in a hospital bed and finding out that—that…”
“What? That you were alive? That you still had both your legs? I don’t understand you. Don’t you ever stop to think how lucky you were?”
“I’m trying to move on, Allie. Don’t you understand that?”
“By pretending Seth doesn’t exist? By trying to force a doctor into surgery that might do more harm than good?”
“Seth’s got somebody. You just told me that. And the doctor will want to do this operation once he talks to me.” Wendy shook her head. “You’re right. I lived. I got out of a wheelchair I was never supposed to get out of. But this woman, the one who can’t do the things she once did—this woman is a stranger. I can’t help it if that sounds selfish. It’s the way I feel.”
“You’re right,” Alison said quietly. “I don’t understand.” She looked at Wendy and smiled, though her eyes glittered with tears. “But I don’t have to. I’m your friend. I’ll stand by you, no matter what. Okay?”
Wendy nodded, even though it was more than okay. The pledge, the compassion in Alison’s eyes… Wendy felt her own eyes fill. For one improbable moment, she thought of letting all the pain inside her spill out. The truth was so much more complex than anyone knew. Maybe if she shared her awful secret…
She knew better. It wouldn’t change a thing.
Her heart, not just her body, had been broken in pieces on a winter’s day nine years ago. Looking in the mirror, seeing her scarred, twisted flesh was a constant reminder of what she’d almost had, what she’d lost, what she’d never have again. Now she could only pin her hopes on a time when she could stare at her reflection and see a whole Wendy instead of a shattered one. Then, perhaps, the agony would turn into a pain she could live with.
“Wendy?” Alison said softly.
She looked up, saw the confusion in her friend’s eyes. “Yes. I heard what you said. Thank you. You’re the best friend in the world.”
The women gave each other wobbly smiles, then Alison scraped her hand across her eyes. “If you make me cry,” she said gruffly, “and my mascara runs, I’m never going to forgive you.”
“Too late. It’s already running.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Yours, too, so don’t look so smug.”
They gave each other sharp looks. Then they laughed, reached out and hugged.
“It’s good to have you home,” Alison said, “even if it’s just for a little while.”
“And it’s good to be here.” Wendy pulled a couple of tissues from her pocket and handed one to Alison. “Even if it’s just for a little while.”
Alison wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She started the car again and they drove to Cooper’s Corner, turned down a familiar old street and stopped in front of a handsome house with bay windows and flower boxes that Wendy knew would overflow with pink and lavender impatiens all summer.
She stepped from the car just as the front door opened. Her mother and father stood poised in the doorway. Then Gina laughed and ran down the steps, with Howard right behind her, and just for a moment, as Wendy went into their sheltering arms, she had to admit that home was the best place in the world.
