“No,” Gina said, although that wasn’t entirely true. She was concerned about Wendy, but not about her safety. There was no reason to be. Howard wasn’t worried about their daughter’s safety, either, but it was easier to pretend that was what they were talking about. “Why should I be? Wendy’s fine. She called to say she wouldn’t be home, and then she phoned a second time to let us know she’d be back by early evening.”
“She stayed out the entire night!”
“Yes, she did,” Gina said mildly. “Sit down, Howard. How about peeling some potatoes?”
She put six small potatoes, a bowl and a paring knife on the counter. Howard shook his head as he sat down.
“It’s not right that she stayed out all night. What will people think?”
“They’ll think Wendy is old enough to live her life as she pleases.”
He took a potato from the counter. “That boy is taking advantage of her.”
“Seth isn’t a boy,” Gina said mildly.
“Our daughter is emotionally vulnerable right now.” A long paring dropped on the counter. Gina pulled some paper towels from the roll, put them on the counter and dumped the potato skin on them. “Being home for the first time in years, waiting for the chance to talk to Pommier... It’s the wrong time for her to get involved with that boy all over again.”
“He’s a man,” Gina said, “and our daughter is a woman, and if they want, as you put it, ‘to get involved’ all over again, that’s their business.”
“They’re wrong for each other.”
“Cut those potatoes in quarters, please.”
“Did you hear me, Gina? That boy—that man—and our daughter don’t belong together.”
“We had this same discussion years ago, Howard. I didn’t agree with you then and I don’t agree with you now.”
Howard dumped chunks of peeled potato into the bowl. “She shouldn’t be starting this nonsense with him all over again.”
“It isn’t nonsense.”
“Of course it is.”
“Are you done with those potatoes yet?”
“Is that all you can think about? Potatoes? I’m talking about something serious, for God’s sake!”
“I know you are, Howard. I just don’t see the sense in arguing.”
“Our daughter came home for a reason. An important reason, and that’s what she should be concentrating on.”
“The operation you want her to have.”
“The operation she wants to have!”
Gina opened the refrigerator and took out a pan of marinating chicken. “Please, let’s not argue. You know how I feel about this.”
“Gina, don’t you see? We’re talking about Wendy’s future!”
“We certainly are.” She turned to him. “This surgery terrifies me, Howard.”
“I know it does.” His voice softened. “It frightens me, too, but Wendy wants to get her life on track. Surely we should stand by her.”
“We have. We always will. But this operation...”
“The operation, the technique Dr. Pommier’s developed, is a miracle. Don’t you see that?”
“Our daughter almost died,” Gina said in a trembling voice. “Then her doctors thought she might not walk again. Well, she lived. And she can walk. Most people would say those things were miracles enough for one lifetime.” Her eyes beseeched him. “But Wendy is embittered and filled with anger. She lives for a past that isn’t half as important as the future she could build if she learned to accept herself as she is.”
“That our little girl lived and walked again is certainly a miracle, but if she wants to compete again—”
“Does she really? Or is it just that she doesn’t want to face something else?”
Howard put down the knife. “What something else are you talking about?”
“I don’t know.” Gina sighed and folded her arms. “I just get the feeling that Wendy’s hiding something.”
“From us?”
“From everybody, including herself. Oh, I know. I’m not making sense, but, well, sometimes I think she’s using this surgery as an excuse to run away from herself.”
Howard picked up the knife and attacked another potato. “You’re right,” he said coolly, “you’re not making sense. You just don’t understand the importance of having a goal you worked toward all your life.”
“Listen to yourself! Who are you talking about, Wendy or you?”
“That’s not fair. You know how much I love our daughter.”
“Of course you love her. But you’re so busy projecting your own wishes on Wendy that you haven’t taken a good, hard look at her. Howard. I’m telling you, she’s in denial. She can’t accept what happened to her and she thinks if she has this surgery—”
“There’s no ‘if’ about it,” Wendy said calmly.
Her parents, startled, swung toward the door.
“I am having the surgery, Mother—assuming I can talk Dr. Pommier into it.”
Wendy saw her mother’s eyes widen. Well, why wouldn’t they? She’d seen herself in the car mirror; she knew she looked as awful as she felt. She’d been driving around for over an hour, unwilling to go home until she got herself under control. She’d tried not to think about anything but Rod Pommier and what she’d say to him, because thinking about anything else, like Seth’s arrogance in assuming he knew what was best for her, or her own foolishness in almost telling him the truth, was the stuff of defeat.
“The doctor’s agreed to talk with me at Twin Oaks in half an hour.”
She could see the excitement flash across her father’s face. “That’s wonderful news, honey! I didn’t even know he was back in town. Did you meet him last night?”
“I haven’t met him at all.” Wendy hesitated. “Seth set it up. He’s remodeling a cabin the doctor bought.”
“Well,” Howard said coldly, “I suppose I’ll have to thank him for arranging this meeting.” He stood up. “Shall I go with you?”
Wendy nodded. “Mom? Will you come, too?”
No, Gina wanted to say. I don’t want any part of this. But her adult daughter was watching her with a child’s hope in her eyes.
“Of course, if that’s what you want.” Gina took off her apron while Howard went to his den to get Wendy’s medical files. “Baby? Are you okay?”
“I’m nervous,” Wendy admitted with a quick smile. “That’s all.”
There was more to it than nerves, Gina suspected. When Wendy had called to say she was with Seth and wouldn’t be home until evening, her joy had radiated through the telephone. Now her eyes were red and swollen.
“How fortunate Seth knows Dr. Pommier,” Gina said.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
“Has he changed his mind about things? He wasn’t very happy about you wanting surgery.”
Wendy’s eyes grew veiled. “What Seth wants isn’t an issue here.”
“I only meant—” Gina started again. “Well, then, are you sure this is what you want?”
“It’s what I came home for, Mother.”
It wasn’t an answer, but from the resolute expression on her daughter’s face, Gina knew it was the only answer she was going to get.
* * *
ROD POMMIER LOOKED at Seth over the rim of his brandy snifter.
The gathering room was empty tonight, except for the two of them. They were in front of the fireplace, Rod seated and Seth pacing the room like a caged bear. Rod figured that if Wendy Monroe didn’t show up in the next five minutes, Seth might wear a hole in the floor.
“I told her seven-fifteen,” Seth muttered, glancing at his watch.
“Uh-huh.” Pommier took a sip of brandy. “And here it is, seven-seventeen. The lady’s definitely late.”
“Yes, she is. And...
” Seth narrowed his eyes. “I suppose I sound like an idiot.”
The doctor smiled. “You want an answer from Rod Pommier, M.D., or from Aunt Agatha?”
“Do me a favor, Doc. Can the Aunt Agatha thing, okay?” Seth jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his cords. “You might be one hell of a surgeon, but you’re a dud when it comes to advice for the lovelorn.”
“The only thing I told you was that you still had a thing for Wendy Monroe.”
“That’s what I mean. You were wrong.”
Pommier lifted his eyebrows. “The whole town’s buzzing about the two of you being back together as a couple.”
Seth gave a derisive snort. “You mean you stopped by at Philo’s to buy a candy bar and he filled your ear with gossip.”
The doctor grinned. “It was a bag of potato chips, and if you ever tell that to the blond nutritionist I met in Vermont, I’ll certify you as mentally incompetent.”
Seth laughed. “A blond nutritionist, huh?”
Rod smiled. “Yeah. Good-looking, and good for you, too.”
The easy remark lightened things, but only for a minute. Then Seth started pacing again.
“Not that it has any bearing on this, but Wendy and I aren’t together again. We had a major disagreement this afternoon.”
“And you still want me to see her?”
Seth nodded. “It’s what she wants, Doc.” His smile was tight. “This is a farewell gift, you might say.”
“I just hope Miss Monroe understands that all I’m doing is agreeing to talk to her. I’m not making any commitments.”
“She knows that. I just wish you’d see her without me around. She and I agreed that I’d leave before she arrived.”
“Well, you agreed without consulting me first.” Rod’s smile took the edge off the rebuke. “Look, I’m not trying to be a hard-ass about this, Seth, but I don’t know the lady. You do, and you’ve made a couple of interesting observations about why you think she shouldn’t have surgery.”
Seth looked puzzled. “Yeah, and you pointed out—and rightly so—that decisions about Wendy’s life were hers to make, not mine.”
Pommier shrugged. “True. But deciding whether or not a patient’s suitable for what I do isn’t strictly dependent on reading X rays and taking case histories. The dynamics of a situation are often as vital as the physical aspects.”
“Meaning,” Seth said wryly, “you think you can learn something about Wendy by watching us play off each other.”
“Yes,” Pommier said bluntly. “I find myself wondering if Miss Monroe’s feelings for you and her feelings about this operation aren’t somehow connected.”
“Only if you mean she’d rather have surgery than have—”
“Here she is,” Rod said quietly, looking past Seth. He put down his glass and stood up. “At least, I’m assuming that’s her coming toward us.”
Seth turned around and saw Wendy and her parents. Wendy was smiling, but her smile disappeared when she looked at him.
“What are you doing here, Seth?”
“I asked him to stay,” Rod said smoothly. He held out his hand. “How do you do, Miss Monroe? I’m Rodney Pommier.”
* * *
IT WAS AS IF they’d all been cast in a play.
After introductions, Pommier led them upstairs. His room was one of the larger guest rooms and had a small sitting area in front of a marble fireplace.
Everyone but Seth took a seat. He stood to the side, a reluctant observer wishing he could fade into the wallpaper as Rod Pommier, easygoing Rod Pommier with a good sense of humor, turned into Dr. Rodney Pommier, world-renowned surgeon.
Wendy seemed to know her part, too. She made a point of turning her back to Seth as soon as the doctor began asking her questions. She referred to the accident with a detachment Seth first admired and then found troubling, referring to “the” injuries, “the” operations, “the” treatments she’d undergone as if they’d happened to someone else.
He tried not to listen. He didn’t feel detached at all. The terrible litany of what Wendy had endured took him back to the first weeks after the accident, when he’d almost gone crazy, imagining her suffering.
Pommier asked Howard for the medical files. They were all quiet as he scanned them. At last he looked up.
“Miss Monroe,” he said slowly, “surely you know that I’ve decided not to take on any new patients.”
Wendy nodded. “Yes, but I’m hoping I can change your mind. I can’t believe you’d turn away someone who’s a perfect candidate for your technique, Doctor.”
Pommier smiled. “Why do you want this surgery? At best, there’s a long and arduous recovery period.”
“I know that. But—”
“My daughter was a champion skier, Dr. Pommier,” Howard said. “She wants to ski again.”
“She has skied again,” Seth said. All heads turned toward him. Wendy looked angry. Her parents looked surprised. Pommier’s expression was resolutely neutral. Seth could feel his cheeks coloring. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t say a word. “Today, at Jiminy Peak.”
Howard’s brows lifted. “Wendy?”
“I skied a beginner’s slope,” she said impatiently, “that’s all.”
“It was a low intermediate slope,” Seth said coolly, “and she skied. That’s all I’m pointing out—that she can ski if she wants to.”
“Skiing an easy slope isn’t skiing,” Howard said, turning his back to Seth. “Wendy wants to compete again. Will she be able to do that if she has this surgery, Doctor?”
“There’s an excellent chance she might, if the surgery goes well.” Pommier hesitated. “There’s also a chance she might spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair.”
Howard blanched. “What?”
“Surely you’re aware that this procedure is risky, Mr. Monroe.”
“Well, yes, but I didn’t think—”
Pommier turned to Wendy. “That’s what you must consider,” he said quietly. “I admit you’re a prime candidate for surgery.”
“You mean you’ll do it?” Howard said excitedly.
“You’re a good candidate,” Pommier continued, speaking only to Wendy, “but I want you to consider the ramifications. Most of the people who come to me are in terrible pain. Others can’t walk and have been told they never will. The risk for such people is worth taking, but you’re in neither group. You’re pain free at this point, are you not?”
Wendy nodded. “Yes.”
“And you can walk.”
“I limp,” she said in a barely audible whisper.
“Did you say...” Howard leaned forward. “Did you say she might end up in a wheelchair if you fail?”
“I did.”
“But you won’t fail. Why would you?”
“If I never failed, Mr. Monroe, I’d be God, and I make no pretense at being a deity.”
“Can you give us an idea of the odds, Doctor? I mean, can you break it down to percentages?”
“I’m not a fortune-teller, either, sir. Fifty-fifty is the best I can do.”
Howard took Wendy’s hand. “And...and she might end up in a wheelchair?” he said again.
“I’m afraid so.”
“But she might be able to ski competitively—”
“And aliens might have designed the pyramids,” Seth said furiously.
Wendy flashed him a warning look. “Stay out of this, Seth.”
Seth took a breath. “Yeah.” He folded his arms. “You’re right. I’ve got no part in this discussion.”
Howard squeezed Wendy’s hand. “Honey? You want to ask the doctor any other questions?” She shook her head. “You think we have enough information to go home, talk this through and come up with a decision?”
“H
oward!” Gina’s voice shook. “Are you crazy? Didn’t you hear what the doctor said? People who come to him are desperate to walk, or to be free of pain. What is there to talk about?”
“How to convince Wendy to go through with this operation,” Seth snarled. “That’s what you have to go home and talk about.”
Everyone looked at him. He knew he was out of line, that whatever the Monroes decided had nothing to do with him anymore because he was out of Wendy’s life. But, damn it, he still loved her. He would always love her, and he wasn’t going to keep quiet. Not this time.
“Seth.” Wendy stood up. “You have nothing to say about this.”
“I had nothing to say the last time, too, when your old man pushed you so hard you couldn’t see straight.”
Howard looked shocked. “I never—”
“The hell you didn’t.” Seth swung to face him, his expression taut with pent-up fury. “You worked her night and day. She was always on the slopes or on a treadmill, and when the roads were clear that winter, she was out on her bike, pedaling up the mountains.”
“Seth.” Wendy’s voice was hoarse with emotion. “Stop it!”
“No. I won’t stop. I was a kid, too young and too afraid of losing you to speak out, but I don’t have anything to lose now.” He strode toward Howard, stopped only inches away. “You know why Wendy fell on that mountain in Norway?”
“Seth. Seth, please—” Wendy clasped his arm.
He shook her loose. It was time, it was past time, and nothing would silence him now.
“She was tired. She was sick. Did you take a good look at her those weeks you were busy training her to win that damn medal for you, Monroe? Did you see the circles under her eyes?”
Howard’s face was white. “Wendy? I didn’t... I was only trying to help.”
“I know, Daddy. Believe me, my accident had nothing to do with—”
“The hell it didn’t!” Seth’s mouth twisted. “He was so wrapped up in that miserable medal that he forgot you can only push somebody so far before they break.”
“Stop it,” Wendy said. She stepped between Seth and her father. “You have no right. You don’t know anything about why I wasn’t in top shape for Lillehammer.”
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