Winners (19 page)

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Authors: Danielle Steel

BOOK: Winners
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“We need more art,” he said. “Art that kids can do, and sophisticated stuff too. I want to work in oils. They want me to use acrylics because the fumes from oil paints bother people, but I get better textures with oils.” He had been working the acrylics to look like oils, and Lily had seen what he could do with the little sticks attached to his gloves. It was incredible. He had real talent that transcended his disability, and in spite of his limitations, he used his arms surprisingly well. “We should have a band too. A
real
band. The kind of music we listen to.”

“I told Dad we need a great sports program. He said the property he bought has a fantastic gym. I told him about the Paralympics, but that only happens every four years like the Olympics. We could have some kind of games that happen
every
year, with medals and awards.” They talked about it for a long time.

“I’d love to teach little kids to draw,” Teddy said wistfully. “I want to be an art teacher when I finish school, for kids with special needs.” He wanted to go to college, and major in fine arts, but so far his parents refused to discuss it with him, and because of his cervical injury and breathing issues, they didn’t like him going on field trips either. And they thought being tutored at Craig was enough. Teddy didn’t agree, and he was planning to apply to college in the fall, whether they agreed or not.

It was past their normal bedtime when Teddy left her room that night. Lily called her father and told him how excited she was, without mentioning Teddy, and he was thrilled. She shared a bunch of new ideas with him about sports, music, and art.

“We’ll talk about it more tomorrow,” he promised. “And I can’t wait to show you the property. Sleep tight, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He couldn’t wait for her to come home, and for Steve to finish the remodel of the house so she’d be happy there. And now there was so much he had to do.

Bill called Jessie the next day to tell her the sale had gone through and the property was his. She was incredibly impressed at the speed with which he’d moved, and his seriousness about the project.

“Now I need a medical director so I know what I’m doing. If you won’t do it, I still need you to help me find the right people. At all levels. I’d be happy to pay you a consulting fee. I’m flying blind in this.”

“I would be too,” she assured him. “I’ve never run a rehab center.” She smiled at the thought. “And you don’t have to pay me. I’ll try to think of some people who would be right for you. I talked to my partner about it, but he doesn’t want to leave the Tahoe area either. I do know a woman who’d be terrific as your resident psychologist. You’ll need one of those to deal with the emotional issues. I worked at Stanford with her. She’s at Mass General now, affiliated with Harvard Medical School, and brilliant at what she does. She deals with SCI kids to help them with the adjustment. Her name is Carole Anders. Did you and Lily meet her when you were there?”

“No. We only met with Hammerfeld for the assessment.”

“That makes sense. Carole was sick for a long time last year. She had some serious medical issues, but I hear she’s okay now. I haven’t talked to her for a while. You should call her. It’s hard to drag people away from there because of the prestige, but what you’re doing is right up her alley, so you never know. And she might be willing to consult. She’s a terrific woman, you’d like her.” She gave Bill her number. “I’ll see who else I can come up with. She’s not a potential medical director, but she would be an important member of the team, if she’ll do it.”

“Would you consult for me?” Bill asked humbly. “Maybe come out and look at what we’re doing when we get farther along, if you have time?” Her advice would be invaluable.

“Of course. I’d love to do it. And I’d like to see Lily again. How’s she doing?”

“She’s excited about this too.”

“So am I,” Jessie said honestly. “I’ll do what I can from here. I’ll call you if I think of anyone. Meanwhile, call Carole.” He promised to do so, and to call Jessie again soon. And Jessie made a note to herself to call Carole when she had time.

He called Carole twenty minutes later, and she sounded startled to hear from him. He explained who he was and what he was doing, and how he had gotten there because of Lily and said that Jessica Matthews in Squaw Valley had given him her name. Jessie’s name was the key—she opened up after that, and listened to what he had in mind. She said it was fascinating and much needed, but that she had no plan to leave Mass General, and wanted to stay in Boston, without explaining why.

“Would you consult with us then, Dr. Anders?” Bill asked her, realizing that it was going to be harder than he’d thought to get capable people to move to Denver. “Perhaps come out and give us some ideas? We’re building this from the ground up, and we need all the help we can get.”

“I’d like very much to do that,” she said, and agreed to come to Denver in the next couple of months, when he thought they were ready.

“Could you come before that? Like in the next couple of weeks?” he suggested, and she hesitated, and then agreed, and they set a date. She was going to spend a weekend in Denver, meeting with him and Joe, and brainstorming with them. Bill offered to pay her plane fare, a stay in one of the best hotels in Denver, and a consultation fee, which was a more than respectable amount. She was very impressed by the way he was handling everything. He readily admitted that he didn’t know what he was doing, but he was going about it in a very solid, responsible, intelligent way.

Carole called Jessie in Squaw Valley as soon as she hung up, and Jessie smiled when she took the call. She was happy to hear from her—it had been too long since they’d spoken. And she could guess why she was calling. She must have heard from Bill. He wasn’t losing any time.

“Okay, now what did you get me into? Who is this guy?”

“He’s the father of an SCI patient I had right after Christmas.” Her face clouded as she thought of what had happened the night she operated on Lily. Tim had died in the accident. “She has a T10 injury, and her father pretty much accused me of being a quack.” She laughed at the memory.

“And you gave the guy my number?” Carole sounded incensed.

“He was just an anguished parent. He adores his daughter, he’s a widower, and from what I can gather, she’s his whole life. They live in Denver, and she’s at Craig right now. And I guess it inspired him to do a variation of that, on a smaller scale, for younger kids. It’s not a bad idea,” Jessie admitted to her friend, “and he’s a smart guy. I think money is no object, so he’ll do it right, if he can find good people. He just bought the location, and it sounds terrific. Now he needs good solid advice, and great staff, and who knows? He may come up with something wonderful. I told him to call you. His daughter was on the Olympic ski team, by the way, so the SCI is even more traumatic. He flew around the world after he left here looking for better opinions, but they all told him the same thing I did. You can’t blame the guy. If I had the money, I’d probably have done the same thing. And at least he wants to put his money to good use. What did you tell him? Are you interested in the job?”

“No,” Carole said honestly. “I love it here. And they were very good to me last year—I can’t walk out on them now. Which reminds me, I’m sorry I didn’t come out for Tim’s funeral, Jess. I was still in treatment and sick as a dog from chemo.”

“I figured. How are you now?”

“Cancer free,” Carole said with relief. “How are you doing?”

“I don’t know. We get through the days. The kids are a little rough. It’s hard without Tim.” Carole could imagine it would be and felt sorry for her, but at least she had them. Carole never would have children now, and she didn’t want to adopt alone, now that she was divorced, so for her the hope of kids was over, which she considered a huge loss. “I wish you’d come out and see us sometime,” Jessie said wistfully. They had been close friends when they worked together at Stanford.

“I’m going to Denver for the weekend in two weeks to meet your guy. Is he an asshole? He sounds a little rough around the edges if he called you a quack.” Carole sounded worried, and Jessie laughed.

“He didn’t say it. He implied it. He has more finesse than that. I operated on his daughter the night Tim died,” she said with a crack in her voice.

“I’m sorry, Jess.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jessie said softly. “How are you doing since the divorce?”

“I’m fine. I just want to look ahead now. Last year was the worst year of my life. Cancer, divorce, surgery. Maybe consulting on a new project will do me good. I didn’t tell your friend I’d been sick. Did you?”

“I said that you’d had health issues, but I didn’t say it was cancer. That’s up to you.”

“It’s none of his business. And I’m fine now. And I’m just consulting, I’m not taking a job, so I don’t owe him that.”

“That’s fine,” Jessie agreed. “Let me know what you think after you go out.”

“Thanks for the referral,” Carole said warmly. “I could use the money. Dylan took most of the furniture, which was a nice touch. Their consulting money will buy me a new couch.” Jessie laughed and was pleased.

“Take care of yourself,” Jessie said gently.

“Yeah, you too,” Carole said, and hung up, and hoped she hadn’t made a mistake agreeing to go to Denver. Bill Thomas sounded like an unusual man to her. But hopefully reliable and sound. And if nothing else, she’d have a new couch.

Bill also called Dr. Hammerfeld at Mass General to ask him for recommendations, either for consultants or for people who might want jobs. Dr. Hammerfeld was impressed by what he was doing, and promised to give it some thought, but knew of no one offhand. And Bill didn’t tell him that Carole Anders was coming to Denver to advise him, in case she didn’t want anyone there to know.

Bill and Lily talked about it every night. She had new ideas for him every day, and so did Teddy when he talked to her. They were both excited about the project.

Thinking about The Lily Pad filled a void for Lily, and distracted her from the fact that none of her friends were coming to see her. Besides Veronica, a few of her classmates finally came once, and were so shocked to see Lily in her wheelchair that they didn’t come again. They didn’t know what to say or how to handle it so they didn’t come at all. She talked about it to Teddy, but not to her father. She was too embarrassed to admit that she had no friends anymore. She felt like a total loser and as though she had ceased to exist for them. And in a way, she had. What had happened to her was just too shocking for them to absorb. Teddy was always sympathetic, and he was her only friend now, at the toughest time of her life.

And it was Phil who turned the tides for her, even more than her father’s plans for The Lily Pad.

When she went to physical therapy, he talked to her about the Paralympics again. He had already explained to her that there were five sports in the Winter Paralympics, with several subcategories, and the obvious one for her was Alpine skiing, with the seat attached to the monoski. But this time he asked if she’d like to try it. Her eyes lit up as soon as he said it, and he explained that she could go to Winter Park above Denver and check it out for herself. The idea of skiing again was the most exciting news she’d heard.

“If you like it, and you’re serious about it, Lily, you could start training now. The Winter Paralympics are less than a year away.” She was so excited, she could hardly speak.

“When can I do it?”

“How about tomorrow?” he said with a slow smile. He had already reserved a time slot for her, with two instructors who would help her get on and off the chairlift and ski alongside her to make sure she didn’t get hurt.

“I’ll have my dad bring my ski clothes tonight.”

They went to work on her normal therapy session then, and she called her father as soon as she got out.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Bill sounded horrified.

“I am,” she said, sounding defiant, which was unusual for her. But she was desperate to get back on skis and didn’t want him to stop her. “I’m going to try chair skiing tomorrow. It’s a little seat on skis. I want to train for the Paralympics, Dad,” she said. She had the same will of iron he did. They were an even match, although they rarely disagreed with each other, but she wasn’t afraid to hold her ground.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said firmly. “You’ve been through enough. Do something else.”

“Lots of people here go skiing, Dad. And I ski better than they do, or I did before. I’m not going to get hurt.”

“And if you do? What if you lose the use of your arms next time? Like Teddy. Or hurt your head. Lily, no!”

“Yes! Bring me my ski clothes, Dad, or I’ll ski in jeans.” And he knew she would. They battled for the next ten minutes, and finally he relented when she insisted that the two ski instructors with her would keep her from getting hurt. “I want to compete in the Paralympics. I’ve been training for all these years.” It was the first time she had realized that she could still compete in downhill skiing, even if it would be different than before. Her life didn’t have to be as radically changed as she feared. And she was going to fight for it. He finally agreed to bring her clothes. “Just bring me a plain jacket, Dad. And a pair of black pants.” She didn’t want to wear her racing uniform, or her Olympic ski team jacket. “Do I have a plain helmet in the closet?” She couldn’t remember if she did.

“I’ll find one. This is crazy, Lily. If anything happens to you, I swear I’m going to kill that physical therapist you call a Marine drill sergeant. This is the last thing I want you to do.” He sounded near tears.

“It’s the
only
thing I want to do, Dad.” And he knew she meant it. He looked bitterly unhappy when he brought her clothes over that night in an Olympic bag. But the clothes were without emblems or insignia, and he had found a plain blue helmet at the back of the closet that she used to wear. She tried it on, and it still fit. He didn’t tell her that he had been about to give her ski clothes away when they emptied the closet to build the elevator. He never thought she’d use them again. They talked for a few minutes when he dropped them off, and left. He had things to do that night. Jessie had sent him some résumés to look at, and he wanted to go through them, of neurosurgeons at Stanford and Mass General and one in Los Angeles at UCLA who she thought were possibilities for The Lily Pad, one as a director, and the others as staff.

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