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Page 19
“Me, either,” he said with a smile.
“Not a girl at every port?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never been one to play the field. I’ve always been on the lookout for something solid, and if it looked temporary at best, I wasn’t usually game.”
“I thought men considered that a bonus—temporary.”
He pulled her closer. “Not this man. This is a definite first.”
“Well, the upside is, there’s no reason for hiding out anymore. We’re a Christmas fling and if we want to have dinner in town, why not?”
“And if I want to take you to my brother’s house, will you go?”
“I’d love that,” she said. “I want to meet these brothers! And wait till I tell you about the latest on Megan.”
When she’d gone through all the details and her plans he said, “Let me take you to Davis.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m interested in this project. And because I’ll be able to spend the day with you.”
She couldn’t have thought of a better reason herself.
* * *
Brie looked at her caller ID before answering the phone. “Hey, Donna,” she said.
“Baby sister. How’s my girl getting along?”
“I’d venture to say this is one of the best vacations of her life. She seems to be having a wonderful time—busy every minute, looking healthy and happy.”
“She told me about her project—the little girl.”
“She’s after it like a bulldog. She had to make dozens of calls to find a surgeon with the time and inclination to help. According to Angie, many plastic surgeons have full schedules months in advance. And without a doctor’s exam, she can’t put together a plan and cost analysis. She’s remarkable, Donna. You must be so proud of her.”
“I am, of course I am, but I’m worried. Do you know her latest? She wants to plunge into the peace corps or some similar organization rather than going back to school. After barely recovering from her accident? After all we’ve invested in getting her this far in school?”
Brie took a breath. “God. No wonder she hangs up on you!”
“What? Isn’t this a reasonable reaction on my part? My daughter, who was always dedicated to medical school and to her goal of becoming a doctor, had a terrible life-threatening accident. And now, ever since she woke up from the coma, it’s as though she’s a different person! No more medical school, always fighting against me… I just want her to take her time—is that too much to ask?”
“Asking is too much to ask, Donna. Don’t you feel her moving farther and farther away from you? You can stop this, Donna, and you’d better. Or you’re going to lose her.”
“I’m trying! I’m giving her space. I’m trying so hard to keep the judgmental tone out of my voice even though I think some of her decisions and ideas are so out of character and way too risky! I’m trying to—”
“Stop talking?” Brie asked, cutting her off. “Because, Professor, one of the things you do best is push your agenda on people. I know it comes naturally, and you’ve had many students to corral in the right direction, not to mention four younger siblings and three daughters to raise. Have you ever tried just saying nothing?”
She apparently was giving it a try because there was dead silence on the phone line. Eventually, Brie heard a deep sigh on the other end of the line. “Well. That hurt.”
“I know,” Brie said softly. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but sometimes you’re too pushy. And this isn’t the first time you’ve heard that.”
“Angie didn’t think I was too pushy when I took a two-month leave to take care of her, to help her to the bathroom, read to her and cheer her on during all her painful physical therapy sessions.”
“I think the important difference right now is that she doesn’t need help to do all those basic things and doesn’t like being treated as though she does. If you don’t back way off, my darling big sister, she’s going to run. Run fast and far. You have to let go. You have to let her make her own decision and, yes, even her own mistakes.”
Donna’s voice was uncharacteristically small when she said, “I only want her to be okay....”
“Of course that’s what you want. You’re a good mother. And now I’m going be a good sister. I’m going to get you through this, Donna. Just give me a chance.”
“Because you’re all wise and experienced?” Donna asked, a bit resentfully.
“In a way. I might not have raised a young woman in her twenties, but it hasn’t been all that long since I was one. And I remember how people getting in my space and my business made me crazy. I know that when I was determined in a certain direction—like dating some idiot who didn’t deserve me—criticism of him would only make me more determined. I remember when I was planning a wedding and all my sisters had advice about what I should do—always exactly what I didn’t want to do—and it made me furious…and mean. It made me mean. If you stretch your memory, I know you’ll remember being in that place—young, idealistic and determined. And damn angry when anyone tried to change your mind.”
She was quiet for a moment. Finally she said, “Creepy Calvin.”
“Ah,” Brie said with a laugh. “Your practice fiancé!”
“Engaged for four months. Mom and Dad hated him and asked me what I saw in him. Jack didn’t like him. My girlfriends kept asking me if I’d lost my mind. What was I thinking?”
“Maybe you were thinking you could make up your own mind. So let me ask you something—if everyone had backed off, would you still have done it? Accepted his lame-ass proposal?”
“Oh, undoubtedly. But I would have broken it off sooner. I hung in there for a couple of months after I realized he was a controlling, small-minded doofus just because I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone saying they tried to warn me.”
“And what would you have liked your friends and family to have said to you instead?”
She thought for a moment. “Oh, something along the lines of, ‘You’re a smart woman, Donna. You’ll do what’s best for you.’”
“There you go,” Brie said. “Practice that.”
Chapter Ten
Nothing could have prepared Patrick for the experience of taking Angie, Megan and Lorraine to Davis for an appointment with the plastic surgeon. He had offered simply because he wanted to spend the time with Angie and because he was curious to see for himself the evolution of this special project she’d taken on. And the revelations were stunning.
When they arrived at the Thicksons’, he was struck by their poverty. This was a hard-working family, yet they lived in a small, poor farmhouse that looked as if it would collapse if he kicked the right stud. Then there was his first full-face view of Megan’s scar, and he’d had to concentrate to keep from wincing. The angry line that ran from her mouth to just under her eye made her look almost clownish. And she wore an expression of despair that he wasn’t sure was an expression of her sadness or just the result of her tugging facial muscles. Even when she smiled, she looked forlorn. Angie was right—she could not go into her teenage years like this.
The drive to Davis was quietly lighthearted. There was a lot of talking among the women. There was a little song-singing and laughing. Megan nodded off for a while—she’d been up very early for the trip. And as they neared Davis, he could feel the nervousness settling in. Certainly Megan and Lorraine pinned desperate hopes on this visit, but Angie was his main concern. He knew she must be so afraid of failing at this—more than at any other challenge she’d taken on. Looking over at her as they drove, he could see that fear weighing on her.
But when they got to Dr. Hernandez’s office, Angie’s confidence was back. Despite the nervous pink splotches climbing up her neck, her voice was strong and confident. That’s the thing with overachievers, something he knew only too well—people always thought it was easy for them, that it was effortless, or lucky. She flushed slightly as she explained why they were there but she forced her voice, which trembled a bit, to be strong.
Angie had told him she felt academically and intellectually strong but struggled with feeling socially awkward. He wondered if anyone else noticed her slight hesitancy when she spoke, her pinkened cheeks. She was determined, but he could tell it wasn’t easy, selling her case to the doctor’s office staff. She’d blushed a little the first time she had talked to Paddy, but it had passed so quickly he had forgotten about it. Around her friends and family, she seemed so self-assured. But in this setting, with Megan and Lorraine depending on her so thoroughly, it was clearly a struggle to keep up that appearance. He could sense in her an overpowering urge to duck and run. But she fought it valiantly.
After a brief wait, the nurse escorted them all to an exam room and even Patrick went along—he didn’t want to miss anything. He was determined to be her extra set of eyes and ears, to pay close attention to the details. And no one questioned his presence within the group.
She smiled in relief, comfortable when she met Dr. Hernandez. “This is Megan, the girl we spoke about,” Angie said. “And this is Mrs. Thickson, her mother, and Patrick Riordan, who brought us here, a very good friend.”
“A pleasure,” the doctor said, nodding at them all. “Let’s get right to it. Let me have a look, Megan, and then I’ll talk to your mother about the details. Is that all right with you?”
Megan nodded and the doctor helped her up on an exam chair that sat high off the ground.
Angie leaned close as the doctor placed gentle fingers on the girl’s face, moving her skin around. He lifted her lower eyelid slightly with the end of a swab, asked her to smile for him, to open and close her eyes. And after just a few minutes he smiled at Megan and said, “I have some ideas, Megan. I want you to go with Sandra while your mother and I talk. Sandra will find you a magazine or you can watch TV. And, Sandra, will you please send Catherine?”
When it was all adults in the room, he began writing and talking at the same time, explaining that it was a simple but delicate procedure to repair the eyelid, and that would prevent vision issues due to severe drying in the future. He said there would still be a scar, but nothing as severe as she had now. Because of the way he would close the wound, it wouldn’t tug or pull at her features, and it would be thin, not unsightly. Because of her youth, he thought it would be unnecessary to adjust the other side of her face at the same time so her features would be symmetrical. There would be some swelling and bruising for a while, but recovery should be uneventful. “The most important thing is this—her skin and tissue, young and elastic, will recover and heal nicely.”
Then a woman came into the room. “Catherine will take you to her office. She can give you a detailed and itemized estimate. We’ve already discussed this and, rest assured, we’ll shave costs wherever possible. We’ll get it down as low as we can. That’s a priority. And you say you’ve already exhausted possible grants and foundations?”
“My aunt has, yes,” Angie told him. “She’s the midwife and nurse practitioner who runs the Virgin River Clinic. She couldn’t find help for Megan anywhere, but we’re not done trying to get it done. And soon, before it gets worse. She’s a beautiful girl.”
“My only girl,” Lorraine said. “She’s kind and smart—I want her to have every chance to succeed in life. I can’t stand the thought that something like a scar from a stupid accident would hold her back. It’s just not fair.”
“We’ll do our best,” the doctor said, holding out his hand to Lorraine. Then he looked at Angie and said, “You have a champion in Dr. Temple.”
She flushed a little at that. “He was my neurosurgeon,” she said, and whenever she said that, she unconsciously touched the shunt scar behind her ear.
“He told me about the accident. And you’re a medical student, he said.”
She nodded. “Only a year, but—”
Hernandez gave a chuckle. “Well, brace yourself.” He put out his hand to Angie. “Why don’t you sit down with Catherine and see what we have. And I’ll be seeing you soon, I hope.” Then to Lorraine he said, “Try not to worry, Mrs. Thickson. I’ve done this before.” Then to Patrick he said, “Nice meeting you. I have a feeling you have a bigger stake in this than driver.”
Far bigger, Patrick thought.
Soon they were all seated in a small office. Patrick, Angie and Lorraine faced the desk while Catherine sat behind it with her computer screen off to the left. As she clicked away, she explained certain things. No fee for the doctor, a very generous gesture. A discount at the surgical center. Operating room staff discounted. Presurgical lab work—sorry, no help there.
“We’ll get the lab work in Virgin River—my aunt Mel might have connections there.”
“We just need the results. I’ll write up the order. There’s one night of post-op observation. We usually have a nurse stay the night and, rather than hospital costs and germs, Dr. Hernandez keeps a room at a local hotel. This is nonnegotiable, given her age, anesthesia and the delicate work—a medical professional has to be on hand to watch for that rare complication. The first twenty-four hours post-op are the most important.”
“Maybe the hotel will donate the room? Maybe I could find a nurse?” Angie suggested hopefully.
“I’ll leave it on the estimate for now, but you’re welcome to ask. Dr. Hernandez might prefer a nurse who has worked with his postsurgical patients before and we have to trust his instincts. His very experienced instincts. So, understanding this might yet come down a bit more, we can do this procedure for as little as five thousand dollars.”