Give Me a Break (From the Files of Madison Finn, 18) (11 page)

Madison glanced over at Aimee. Her eyes were still wet with tears.

“We’ll call your parents right away, Aimee,” Stephanie said, always the voice of reason. She took out her cell phone.

“Can I talk to them?” Aimee mumbled.

Stephanie nodded. “Let me just tell your mom what happened, and then I will put you on the phone.”

Aimee rolled her eyes and let out a huge sigh. “My dad and mom are going to spaz out when they hear about this. They told me to be extra careful, and now look at me.”

Madison leaned into Aimee. “You’ll be okay, Aim,” she cooed.

Aimee reached for Madison’s hand with her one good arm. She kept the weak wrist at her side.

“Maddie?” Aimee said in a soft voice. “What am I going to do? If I hurt myself it means I can’t do that ballet performance when we get back to Far Hills. My teacher will be so disappointed. She’s counting on me for two solos. I practiced all through the fall for that. What am I going to do?”

“Maybe your wrist will be fine,” Madison said.

Aimee tried to move the wrist but then yelped in pain.

“I don’t think so,” Aimee said.

Stephanie had left the room to try contacting Aimee’s parents, but neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gillespie was at home. Not one of Aimee’s brothers answered the phone, either. The line at the Cyber Cafe was busy.

“Where is everyone?” Aimee moaned. She sobbed again. “Where’s my mom? Where are my dumb brothers?” she asked.

Stephanie gave Aimee a kiss on the head. “Shhh,” Stephanie said. “Don’t get all worked up. We’ll try your mom and dad when we get to the hospital, okay? They’ll make you feel better.”

Finally, the doctor put through official orders for Aimee to be driven to the local hospital for emergency X-rays. He predicted that she would have to get a soft cast on her wrist. Dad, Stephanie, and Madison piled into a monster truck along with a representative from Big Mountain.

The hospital was brand new, and everyone moved fast, as if they were gliding on ice skates. The floors were marble and the walls were covered with photographs of great skiers and ski trails.

Aimee’s spirits seemed to lift a little bit once she got settled into a room. It was an hour before a Dr. Sangee arrived, wearing thick black glasses and a turban. He wheeled Aimee into a side room off the main corridor of the emergency area. Madison followed.

“Hello to you both,” the doctor said, smiling broadly. He pressed a few X-rays up onto light boxes mounted on the side wall of the room. “So, Miss Gillespie,” he said, pointing to an X-ray, “all seems clear. You see this thin line here? No problem. You see this gray spot here? No problem.”

Aimee broke into a wide smile.

“But,” Dr. Sangee continued, “I am afraid you have a bad sprain. We can fix this and help you with the pain, but you won’t be able to use the wrist for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Aimee asked.

“Four weeks, at least,” Dr. Sangee said.

He quickly but gently pressed Aimee’s arm in a few places, asked her a few more questions, and walked back out of the room.

“This isn’t happening,” Aimee said aloud. “This isn’t happening to me.”

“You’ll be okay,” Madison said.

Aimee turned away. Was she crying again?

Dr. Sangee returned with the material he needed to wrap Aimee’s wrist and place a soft cast on the injury.

“When will my wrist be normal again?” Aimee asked. “I have to dance in a recital back home next week. Can’t I put on a harder cast and do that?”

“Absolutely not—no activity,” Doctor Sangee said. “No exceptions.”

Madison could almost hear the wheels spinning in Aimee’s head: sure, I’ll agree to whatever you say if you just
get me out of here.
Aimee’s look of terror at the words
four weeks
had now turned to a look of sadness. Madison took that as her cue. She reached for Aimee’s good hand.

But Aimee pushed Madison away. “Leave me alone,” she said abruptly.

Madison refused to give up that easily. She reached for the same hand again. “Aim, I just want to help you—”

“Maddie, please stop,” Aimee said. “It doesn’t matter what you say. This is the worst possible thing that could have happened.”

There was a leather chair in a corner of the examination room. Madison walked over and collapsed into it. She could think of a few things that were worse.

“What if you had broken your leg?” Madison asked. “That would be worse than this, right? Or what if you had cut your head open or something really awful? What if you’d skied off the mountain? That would be worse.”

Aimee stared off in the opposite direction. She didn’t appear to be listening. Or, Madison considered, it might have been the concussion. Aimee’s eyes had a glazed-over look about them.

Stephanie barged into the room. “Okay!” she announced. “I’ve got Mrs. Gillespie on the telephone.” She handed the cell phone to Aimee. “They have rules against using these things in here, but we got permission. Go ahead and talk as long as you want.”

Stephanie went over to Madison. “Why don’t we give Aimee a little privacy?” she suggested.

Madison was glad to leave. Aimee wasn’t really listening to her anymore, anyway. She and Stephanie went out, leaving Aimee alone in the room with the phone.

As Stephanie and Madison walked back toward the waiting area, Madison spotted Dad reading a newspaper.

“How is she?” Dad asked Madison.

Madison shrugged. “Grouchy,” she said. “I was trying to be nice, but she didn’t really want my help.”

“Oh, honey,” Dad said in a comforting voice. “She wants your help. Aimee is just overwhelmed right now.”

“What are we going to do?” Madison asked.

Dad looked at Stephanie.

Stephanie looked at Dad.

“I think we probably should head back to Far Hills,” Stephanie said.

Dad concurred. “Aimee’s parents are worried. They know she’s in good hands, but they want to see her for themselves.”

“Go back to Far Hills?” Madison asked. “You mean end the winter vacation?
Now?”

Stephanie nodded. “It seems like the smart thing to do.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Madison blurted out. “Why do we have to go back? Why can’t her parents come and pick her up?”

“Maddie…” Stephanie said, trying to calm her down.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” Madison said.

Dad scratched his head. “I had a feeling you might see it this way,” he said. “But I know you understand why we have to do it this way, Maddie. Stephanie and I are just as disappointed as you are.”

A picture of Hugh flashed into Madison’s mind.

“No way! You are definitely
not
as upset as I am!” Madison said.

Dr. Sangee was on his way back in to Aimee’s room, but he stopped to talk to Dad. “So,” he said. “We have the release papers here. Aimee should be fine. Have her doctor call me with any questions when she returns home. I think the biggest thing you need to watch for is any possible complications from her concussion. It wasn’t too bad, though. Keep her hydrated and happy.”

Dad and Stephanie thanked the doctor for his help. They signed the release papers, and, once they’d picked up Aimee, the four left the hospital. They boarded a shuttle bus headed back to Treetops.

The ride was mostly silent. Neither Aimee nor Madison talked at all. Madison gazed out the window. As they left the downtown area where the hospital was situated, traffic picked up. Enormous pine trees rose up like giants, casting shadows over wide tracts of ground. A huge cloud darkened one side of the mountain.

“Aimee?” Stephanie asked. “Did you and your mother discuss our heading back to Far Hills?”

Aimee nodded without saying a word, which seemed to make Stephanie a little nervous.

“Aimee? Are you still feeling dizzy?” Stephanie asked.

“She looks fine to me,” Madison said.

Aimee shot her a look. “Yeah. I’m fine. I just fell down a mountain.”

“Sorry,” Madison grumbled.

“Girls,” Dad cautioned from the front seat. “Let’s be nice, shall we? We’ll head back to the chalet, have a nice supper, a good sleep, and we’ll hit the road in the morning.”

Madison wanted to scream. She hated the idea of leaving when it seemed as if the fun had only just begun. She’d been so panicked about clothes and skis and boys, and now… things were just starting to look up.

“Did you cancel our lessons and everything?” Madison asked.

Dad shook his head. “Oh, no, I haven’t canceled a thing yet. We’ll take care of all that in the morning.”

Madison settled back in her seat.

Maybe Aimee’s wrist would heal overnight and everything could go right back to normal, she thought. Maybe the vacation wouldn’t be called to a screeching halt. Maybe Madison would get another chance to hang out with Hugh.

She glanced over at Aimee, curled up in her own seat in the car. Aimee’s eyes still looked a little glazed over. Deep down, Madison was worried. Her BFF had gotten hurt. That was serious. How could Madison think about herself at a time like this? Suddenly she felt ashamed for wanting to stay.

They pulled into Treetops and headed for their chalet. Dad got a ride back to the mountain to pick Phinnie up. Stephanie stayed with the girls and made arrangements to have room service deliver dinner.

Aimee said her head was pounding, so Stephanie made her go and lie down. Then Stephanie lit a fire.

“Do you need help?” Madison asked halfheartedly before she plopped down onto an overstuffed couch in the living room.

Stephanie shook her head. “No, you just relax. I’ll call and order the food. It’s been a crazy day.”

Stephanie’s cell phone was sitting on the table next to the couch. Madison picked it up and dialed.

“Mom?” Madison whispered when her mother answered. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

“I was just thinking of you!” Mom said.

“You were?”

“I was thinking that you must be quite the ski bunny,” Mom said.

“Mom, I miss you,” Madison said.

“Uh-oh. What’s wrong?” Mom asked.

“Why do you think something is wrong?” Madison asked.

“I can tell.”

Madison sighed. “Aimee hurt her wrist. We just got back from the hospital.”

“Is she all right? What hospital? Where?” Mom fired questions at her.

“No, don’t worry. She’s okay now; it’s just a sprain, but we had to go to the emergency room and now Dad’s probably going to call off the vacation and I am really bummed,” Madison replied.

“Well, I’m sorry you’re bummed—but I’m glad Aimee is okay,” Mom said. “Has the trip been fun so far—until today’s accident, that is?”

“Not exactly,” Madison said. “Aimee and I have been fighting a lot.”

“Fighting about what?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know. Look, I don’t feel like talking about it,” Madison said.

“Honey bear, you’re the one who brought it up.”

“I know, but can’t we talk about something else?” Madison asked.

“Will you be coming home now?” Mom asked. “I assume the Gillespies know what happened.”

“Yes,” Madison said. “Stephanie called them from the hospital.”

The silence lingered between them on the phone line.

“Maddie? Are you okay? I love you,” Mom said. She took a breath and added, “I love you more than ice cream and stars and the big old white moon.” It was something Mom had used to say when Madison was a little girl.

“I love you, too, Mom,” Madison replied, feeling herself get a little choked up. “I’ll call tomorrow, when Dad decides what we’re doing next, okay?”

“Okay.”

They said their good-byes, and Madison settled back into the comfortable couch again. She closed her eyes. Aimee must have fallen asleep, she guessed, hearing silence from the bedroom. Stephanie and Dad’s room was quiet, too.

Madison tried to lull herself into a nap, but she couldn’t. Her eyes kept opening to scan the room. The fireplace gave off a lot of heat, and the sound of crackling wood and flames was comforting. A row of old books lined the stone mantelpiece. Madison had not noticed them before.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of something glimmering on the carpet. A quarter? A paper clip? What was it?

Madison stood up and went to look.

Her lucky ski-bunny charm! She’d left it behind that morning. She guessed that Phin must have grabbed it or that it had stuck to a scarf or sweater and traveled out into the main room. Whatever the case, Madison knew in an instant why the day on the slopes had turned into a disaster.

It was her luck to lose, and she’d lost it.

Was there any way to get her luck back again?

J
UST AS THE SUN WAS
rising, Madison came out of the bedroom and sat down on the sofa, staring at the fireplace. There were nothing but ashes and charred pieces of wood there this morning. Dad and Stephanie were still in their room. Aimee was asleep, snoring as usual. Madison took that as a sign that Aimee was getting back to normal.

Madison powered up her laptop and opened her e-mailbox. A few important messages were waiting.

Mom’s message was first. She’d marked her e-mail with a little red exclamation point for URGENT.

From: Fran Budgefilms


To: MadFinn


Subject: HUGS


Date: Tues 2 Mar 7:04 AM


Honey bear, after we spoke last night I hope you felt better. Aimee probably could use a friend right now if she’s missing home, and you’re the best kind of best friend. I know I think so. You’re my special girl.


I love you,


Mom


P.S.: I attached a picture I found in my desk. Share it with Aimee. Hugs and kisses.


<>


Attached to Mom’s e-mail was a photograph taken many years before. In the photo, Madison and Aimee stood in front of a huge pile of snow in the Finns’ backyard. They were bundled up in funny-looking neon-colored parkas, scarves, and hats with big pom-poms on top. They almost looked as if they were joined at the hip, they clung together so closely.