Winners

by Danielle Steel

  “Just tell me when you want me to come out, and I’ll be on the next plane.” Bill looked pleased when Joe said it, and then they talked about Joe’s failed business and the embezzlement until dinnertime. They talked about Karen too, but there was less to say. She had told him she wanted a divorce, filed the papers, and left, with very little conversation about it. She said the marriage was over for her, and that was that. But he seemed to be dealing with it, and had made his peace with what she’d decided, although it was painful for him. Joe mentioned in passing while they talked that he had no desire to get involved with anyone else now. He felt too old, he said, to start again, or even have a relationship. He hadn’t dated in more than thirty years, and his marriage to Karen had ended in too much disappointment for him to want to try again. Bill said he understood. He wasn’t feeling particularly romantic these days either. All his thoughts were focused on Lily, and nothing else. And Joe knew he hadn’t had a serious woman in his life since Lily’s mother.

  The three of them had dinner together in Bill’s suite. And when Lily went back to her own suite, she maneuvered the wheelchair deftly, and the two men watched her with a sorrowful expression. After she was gone, Joe gently patted his friend’s shoulder as Bill fought back tears.

  When Joe left Bill that night, he promised to come to Denver in the next few weeks, as soon as Bill called him, and Bill assured him that he would. He was relieved to have seen his old friend. He had known him for twenty-six years, since business school, and Bill had known Karen for just as long, since Joe had already been married when Bill met him. It was strange to think how life turned out sometimes. Now he was widowed, Karen was living in Nepal and India with her guru, Joe’s business was in the tank, and he’d been the smartest guy Bill had known at Harvard, and Lily was paraplegic. Who could have imagined any of that? Nothing had happened as Bill had hoped, and he was exhausted when he went to bed that night, after the discouraging meeting with the neurosurgeon that morning. And they had one more the next day. They were getting up early to fly to Boston, and then home that night. All Bill could hope was that the doctor at Mass General would have something hopeful to say. If he didn’t, as far as Bill was concerned, Lily’s life had been destroyed when the chairlift fell in Squaw. He couldn’t see it any other way.

  Chapter 10

  A PRETTY WOMAN with shoulder-length dark hair was the center of a celebration at the breast cancer clinic at Mass General that morning. The doctors and nurses who had taken care of her for the past year were there, and her peer counselor who had guided her through the hardest year of her life. The woman being celebrated was Carole Anders. She had completed her treatment, and had been declared cancer free after a year of chemotherapy and radiation, a double mastectomy, and a hysterectomy. She hadn’t had breast reconstruction yet, and didn’t want to. She felt that for now she’d been through enough surgery, and she’d heard from others that there was a risk of infection or complications with implants, and she just didn’t want to take the chance. She wore prosthetics in her bra, and no one saw her undressed now anyway. Her husband had walked out on her six weeks after she’d been diagnosed with cancer, which she’d been told was not unusual, but it had been a hell of a blow. He just couldn’t deal with what she was going through, and had started an affair with a woman in his office. It had been Carole who ultimately filed for divorce. Carole had gotten through it with the support of the medical staff at the breast clinic, her counselor, and her friends. Her husband had been a no-show for the entire event. He hadn’t even called her when she had the hysterectomy and the mastectomy. He just couldn’t deal with it. But Carole had, and she had come through the whole experience with flying colors, emotionally and medically, and now she had a clean bill of health.

  Carole’s mother and older sister had both died of breast cancer, so she had been at high risk. But she intended to survive what she’d been through. Her sister had refused to have a mastectomy, which Carole thought made a difference, and her mother had been diagnosed too late. Thanks to annual mammograms since she was thirty, because of her history, they had detected hers early, at thirty-seven. She had just turned thirty-eight, and the good-looking cut of her dark brown hair, in a shoulder-length pageboy, was a very expensive wig she had bought at a theatrical hairdresser in New York. It had been worth every penny she spent. Her own hair had only just begun growing again, and was peach fuzz all over her head under the wig. Her peer counselor had told her about the theatrical wig store in New York, and had been invaluable to her in countless ways, particularly during the breakup of her marriage, and then the divorce. Her peer counselor’s husband had left her after she was diagnosed too. As Carole said, it had reduced her to nothing more than a statistic, and made her husband of five years seem pathetic. And her treatment had been an issue for him too, because he wanted to have children, and Carole no longer could. The whole experience with him had left her so disillusioned that she had no desire to even date, let alone get involved in a relationship. She never wanted to go through anything like it again. Surviving cancer was enough.

  Despite grueling treatments and two major surgeries, Carole had managed to miss almost no work. Her boss in neurosurgery, and another in orthopedics, had been incredibly supportive and had adjusted her schedule to fit her medical needs. She was a psychologist specializing in young people recovering from trauma involving spinal cord injuries. She had a Ph.D. from Stanford and had done her internship there, and then came to work at Mass General, and she loved what she did. The kids and young adults she worked with were terrific, and continuing to stay active and engaged had gotten her through her own illness, and now it was behind her. But she had never really stopped living in the last year. She had gone to cultural events, museums, and movies, continued her work, and seen friends whenever she could. Everyone who knew her was impressed at how well she had come through it, in spite of the additional challenge of the divorce. Carole was a strong, cheerful person, with a positive attitude about life. And it was contagious in her work. She was able to infuse her patients with excitement about their lives, and a will to live, in spite of what they’d been through. She was a woman who practiced what she preached. And everyone at the breast clinic was happy to be celebrating her.

  She was in great spirits when she arrived at her office two hours later than usual. She had warned her secretary she’d be late, to allow for time for the celebration they had planned for her. And best of all, she was cancer free. Her last tests had been immaculate.

  “How was the party?” Janys, her secretary, asked her. She knew where Carole had been and was thrilled for her. Everyone had been rooting for her all year. Everybody loved Carole, and it was easy to see why.

  “It was great,” Carole said happily, and glanced at the copy of her schedule on Janys’s desk. Carole was extremely organized and liked to make full use of her time. “What have I got this morning?”

  “You have a meeting with Dr. Hammerfeld, about three new patients he has coming. But he’s running late. He’s with some people now.”

  “One of my new patients?” she asked with interest, but Janys shook her head.

  “This is just a consultation. A family from Denver. They’re on their way back there and admitting her to Craig,” Janys explained.

  “It doesn’t get better than that,” Carole said with an approving look. “Why are they here?”

  “Looking for a miracle, I think. It’s a T10 injury.”

  “Complete or incomplete?” Carole asked.

  “Complete,” Janys said with a serious look. She had seen Lily go into the doctor’s office, with Jennifer and her father. And Janys and Carole both knew that with a complete spinal cord injury, there would be no miracle. Dr. Hammerfeld was delivering the news at that moment, and Carole went to her office to return some calls. Dr. Hammerfeld hadn’t asked her to join them, as he wouldn’t be following the case. It was just a one-time meeting. And while Lily dressed in the examining room, he dealt the final blow to her father in his office.r />
  “There’s nothing we can do,” he said solemnly, and Bill nodded, with a look of despair. He was used to hearing it by now. “What made you come here?” The tests were so conclusive that Bill’s visit didn’t make a lot of sense.

  “To be honest, I really wasn’t sure about the neurosurgeon who did the surgery, and her diagnosis. I thought it was possible that she was wrong and made a mistake.” With that, the doctor looked at Lily’s chart again to see the surgeon’s name, frowned, and then looked back at Bill.

  “You had one of the best neurosurgeons I know. In fact”—he said, with a small wintry smile—“she trained with me, although she didn’t do her residency here. She’s a very fine surgeon, and I’ve referred cases to her over the years.” Bill nodded—everyone had had high praise for Jessie. But the bottom line was that Lily was paraplegic and would never walk again. He would have gone to the devil himself if that could have helped. And the doctor could see how desperate Bill was, but reiterated that there was nothing they could do to help, and their focus had to be on rehabilitation now. Bill tried not to look as heartbroken as he was, when he left the doctor’s office. Hammerfeld had been his last hope, for now anyway. Now they had to go home, and start the long road to rehabilitation. Bill pretended to be cheerful, and got Lily into the car.

  They went back to the hotel to check out, picked up their luggage, and he called Joe because he had promised he would, and told him what the doctor had said. Joe felt badly for him and he could hear how emotionally wrung-out Bill was. The surgeons they had consulted had destroyed his hope of Lily walking again. Joe gently reminded him how lucky they were that Lily was alive.

  And two hours later they left for the airport, and took off for the four-hour flight to Denver. It was the end of a long, discouraging trip. It hadn’t gone the way he hoped, and Lily was tired of being examined and poked and prodded. All she wanted now was to go home, even though it was only for one night. And then she had to face a whole new environment again, and a hospital of a different kind. She was so tired after the day in Boston, and all the traveling they’d done before, that she fell asleep as soon as they took off, and Jennifer woke her as they were about to land. Lily opened her eyes with a start, smiled at her, and as soon as they were in the car, she texted Veronica. She had promised to come by that night. She texted Jeremy too, but he hadn’t answered her in several days. It was only eight o’clock in Denver when they landed, and Lily couldn’t wait to see Veronica, after two horrible months away.

  They were almost at the house when Veronica answered Lily’s text and said she was having dinner with her parents, studying for midterms, and they wouldn’t let her go out, since her grades sucked, as usual. All she cared about was training for the Olympics, and she had never done well in school, unlike Lily, who had successfully managed both. Lily was disappointed when she got the message—she hadn’t seen Veronica for so long. She promised to come by the next day, but Lily answered that she would be at Craig the next day, which was why she had hoped she would come by that night, like old times. She had no idea what it would be like to have visitors at Craig, if she would have a roommate or not, and what the rules about visitors were. Veronica texted back that she’d come to see her at Craig soon, she just couldn’t get out tonight.

  She still hadn’t heard from Jeremy—his texts had become more and more infrequent in recent weeks, and he had cooled off noticeably since the accident. And Veronica had hinted a couple of times that he was interested in someone else. She didn’t want Lily to be shocked when she got home. It hadn’t been a serious romance with Lily, but they’d had fun for the last six months, before the accident in Squaw. And Lily didn’t have many illusions that he’d be faithful to her while she was in rehab for four months, but he hadn’t broken up with her, so as far as she knew they were still dating, whatever that meant now. He was one of the best-looking and most popular boys on the Olympic downhill team, so she realized there was a possibility he might not stick around, but she hoped he would. She texted him again from the car but got no response.

  The limousine that had picked them up at Denver International Airport drove them to the Cherry Hills Village section of South Denver, where they lived. Lily looked excited as she saw the familiar streets. She turned to glance at her father, and he was looking out the window of the car with a sad expression. He had never expected to bring Lily home from their annual trip to Squaw Valley in a wheelchair, and she was just glad to be home.

  The driver pulled up in the circular driveway in front of the house, and Angie was waiting for them. She had stayed to see if there was anything she could do to help. The driver got the wheelchair out of the trunk, and Jennifer and Bill helped Lily into it, and she turned to smile at Angie, who tried not to show the emotion she felt as she watched her. Seeing Lily in the wheelchair nearly broke her heart. The housekeeper who came in the daytime had left food for them in the fridge, which Angie mentioned cheerfully as she followed them into the house.

  “Hi, Angie,” Lily said with a slow smile. She was tired after the trip.

  “Hi, Lily,” she said, trying not to look as sad as she felt, watching Lily roll herself into the house, and Bill squeezed Angie’s shoulder as he walked past her. It had been a long, hard two months.

  And once in the house, Bill had to help maneuver the wheelchair up three steps into the front hall. It was a large, handsome house, filled with beautiful antiques and expensive art. Jennifer tried not to look as impressed as she was, but after the hotels and the plane, she wasn’t surprised. They lived an amazing life, although she realized that even they weren’t exempt from unexpected hardships, like the death of Lily’s mother and Lily’s accident in Squaw.

  Lily stopped at the entrance to the living room, and would have had to go down two steps to go into it, so she turned and went to the kitchen instead. There was a swinging door that she couldn’t manage, and Bill held it open for her. Angie was taking out the food the housekeeper had left for them for dinner, and Lily rapidly found that she was bumping into everything. The table, chairs, and island in the center were an obstacle course for her. She had to lean into the fridge to get something to drink, and the counters were the wrong height. She had suddenly become a misfit in her own world, and she couldn’t reach the faucets at the sink to wash her hands. She looked upset and rolled up to the table, and helped herself to some cheese and fruit, and told her father she wanted to go upstairs. There was a long elegant flight of stairs that she couldn’t negotiate, and he had to carry her, while Jennifer carried the chair. It confirmed to Bill that the house was going to be impossible for Lily to live in unless he made a number of changes. Otherwise she would be a prisoner in their home, unable to move from one place to another without help.

  While Bill carried Lily upstairs, Angie left discreetly and Lily settled into her room like a warm embrace. Everything was pink silk and satin, there were flowered curtains, and the thick wool carpeting that had always seemed so cozy was hard to negotiate with the chair. She pulled herself onto her bed and called her friends, while Jennifer unpacked for her. Bill had showed Jennifer a guest room nearby, where she was to spend the night before she went back to Squaw Valley the next day.

  Lily was disappointed that Veronica couldn’t come over, and she tried calling her just to talk, but couldn’t get her. And Jeremy still hadn’t answered her text. He called her two hours later, after Jennifer had helped her take a bath and get into bed between fresh, clean sheets. It felt wonderful to be in her own bed.

  “When did you get home?” Jeremy asked casually, as though he hadn’t gotten her latest texts, and she’d been on an ordinary trip, instead of a journey to hell and back with a month and a half in a hospital for a spinal cord injury, major surgery, and a weeklong jaunt around Europe and the East to see doctors for examinations and consultations.

  “About two hours ago. Do you want to come by?” She was dying to see familiar faces, and she realized now how much she had missed everyone on the ski team and at school, and she
couldn’t go back to school until the end of May. She would be dependent on them to visit her while she was at Craig. There was a long pause after her question, and she had a sudden feeling that their conversation wasn’t going to go well.

  “I’m kind of busy,” he said, in response to her invitation, “and Lily, I guess we need to talk.” She could sense what was coming and closed her eyes, waiting to hear what he would say. But more than anything, she knew why. The word was out among her friends. She was in a wheelchair, and although she hadn’t said it, they had guessed that she was liable to stay that way. “I’ve … I’ve kind of been seeing someone else … you’ve been gone a long time.”

  “And now that I’m back?” She wanted to force his hand and see what he said. At least she’d know where she stood. She was trying to face the realities of her life, and didn’t want to delude herself about him either. She needed to know what and who was real and who she could count on. More than ever, it was important to her now.

  “You’re not really back, though, are you? Aren’t you going to rehab tomorrow?” He made it sound like she was going to jail, and she felt that way. “I kind of think we need to let things go with us, don’t you? I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while.” He sounded embarrassed but not really apologetic. Clearly, a girlfriend in a wheelchair was more than he could handle, and she was sure he wouldn’t be the only one. She suddenly felt like a pariah.