“It’s the
newspaper. The owner thinks we should have a series of bloggers. Anonymous of
course to keep it interesting.”
Claire
snorted. “Anonymous so they can get away with saying outrageous things, is more
like it.”
Zoey grinned.
“That, too.”
Claire
thought for a moment. “It might not be such a bad idea. Those new owners are
clever, I’ll give them that. For one thing, they hired you to oversee
production; that proves they’re a smart bunch of guys. When you told me about
the group of people willing to buy an old web press and start a new, hip
newspaper I thought they were crazy. Especially with traditional newspapers
closing all over the place.”
Zoey nodded.
“They know their market.” She glanced at Kyle, who was still deep in
conversation with Tony. “Who knew there were so many people our age who still
want to read newspapers?”
“And with
their online presence they cover all the bases.” Claire tilted up her glass,
surprised to see that it was empty. “If I think of anyone, I’ll let you know,
okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Zoey’s attention was back on the screen behind Claire. When that happened it
was a clear signal that it was time to go.
“I’ll call
you in a few days, okay?” Claire winced as the sound went up several decibels.
“Maybe we can meet for lunch. Somewhere we can hear ourselves think.”
“Okay.” Zoey
was tugging at Tony’s shirt, pointing to the screen.
Claire left
the bar and stood outside, hesitating. Cab or bus? If she was even going to
think
about a holiday, she’d better get more serious about conserving cash.
Besides, it was a short run on the bus straight down Robson Street and there
was the bus now. She hopped on, got off a few minutes later on the corner of
Denman and walked the block and a half to her apartment.
A fine mist
was falling, but she was lost in thought and scarcely noticed it. Zoey was
right, of course. She couldn’t automatically assume that every man she met was
going to break her heart. She opened the front door, walked into the generic lobby
and pushed the button for the elevator. In those quiet, introspective moments
that seemed to come more often these days, she had to admit that she was angry
at herself as much as at Harrison. Angry because she’d been completely taken in
by his charm, his good looks, and most of all, his ability to spin a picture of
the future that she’d bought…hook, line and sinker!
It was such
an old, clichéd situation. Married man in an unhappy marriage. Divorce pending.
‘I love you Babe.’ Everything a girl longed to hear. Back then, in that first
flush of what she’d thought was love, she’d heard only what she wanted to hear.
She would
have been a lot farther ahead if she’d listened to Zoey. Her uncompromising
friend always saw things in black and white. But of course that would have been
too easy. The truth was, she hadn’t wanted to push Harrison, in spite of her
growing uneasiness. And then one day she’d seen him with his wife, watched the
obvious closeness between them. It had been one of the worst days of her life.
Even now, thinking about it, her breath caught in her throat. She wouldn’t be
fooled again.
She let
herself into her apartment, kicked off her shoes and wandered over to the full
length window. It overlooked the harbour, and in the daytime she could see
parts of Stanley Park. She raised her eyes to the lights of the North Shore.
Off to the left in West Vancouver, her parents were no doubt watching the late
news before retiring for the night.
She pulled
the drapes and wandered into her office. The rough layout of her latest project
was taped to her drafting board and she turned on the light, studied it for a
moment. She liked to sketch out her ideas before turning to the computer. She
found it easier to adjust her thinking at this point, rather than after she’d
put in several hours on the computer. She was setting up a major commercial
website and wasn’t sure if she liked what she’d done so far, but something told
her to leave it alone tonight and tackle it in the morning.
Chapter Two
She should
have known it was going to be a bad day when the cream curdled in her coffee.
She bit back a curse word, poured it out and settled for a cup of herbal tea.
She slumped down at her drafting board and eyed the new project. She hated to
waste precious time, but what lay before her wasn’t anything like the vision
she had in her head. It almost looked as though someone had come in overnight
and changed everything. Before she could change her mind she ripped the paper
off the board and taped up a new sheet.
The rest of the
day was equally disastrous. Nothing was working and she finally gave up in
mid-afternoon and made a quick trip to the store. With fresh cream, perhaps
tomorrow would start out on a more positive note.
She heard the
ringtone the moment she came back in. She recognized her parents’ number and
hesitated for a moment before picking it up.
“Claire,
dear, are you coming for dinner?” Her mother was always unfailingly cheerful.
“I hadn’t
planned on it, no.”
A startled
gasp preceded her mother’s next words. “But dear, Cam has a hockey game
tonight.”
Claire
glanced at the calendar and groaned silently. It was there all right. Cameron’s
team was playing Spokane tonight. She couldn’t quite remember when they’d
slipped into the habit of having dinner together before going to the rink to
watch her twin play. Of course now that Cam was in the minors, the team had
their game-day routine, so it was just the three of them.
“Mom, I don’t
think I can make it tonight. I’ve had a really bad day and I just…” Her voice
trailed off.
Silence from
her mother. “Are you sick, dear?”
She’d have to
be sick indeed to miss one of her brother’s games. She counted slowly to three.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I just don’t feel like going tonight. Cam won’t even know I’m
not there.”
“But what
will I tell your father?” She knew how Claire hated to disappoint her father.
“Tell him I’m
just not up to it.” She considered explaining further, but dug her heels in.
“Please, Mom. You know how to say it so he won’t be too disappointed.”
“Are you sure
you’re all right?” Her mother sounded concerned. “You don’t sound like
yourself.”
The tension
that had been building all day suddenly drained from her body. It wasn’t her
mother’s fault that her project hadn’t gelled. “Don’t worry, Mom. It’s just
been one of those days.” She touched the calendar. “I’ll be there for his next
game on Thursday, okay?”
“You take
care of yourself.” She still sounded doubtful. “We’ll miss you.”
Claire disconnected, wandered into her bedroom and lay down
on her bed. Her back ached from bending over the drafting board. She’d just
rest for a few minutes.
* * *
The phone
rang, jolting her awake. The room was dark; she must have fallen asleep.
“Claire?” Her
father’s voice was unnaturally shaky. “Cam’s been taken to the hospital. We’re
on our way there now.”
She swung her
feet out of bed and looked at the clock. By her quick calculations, the second
period of Cam’s game should be starting any time. “What happened?” she asked.
“We don’t
know yet. He’s unconscious. He was boarded and his head hit one of the
stanchions.” Her father took a quick breath. “They’re taking him to the
General. We’ll meet you in Emergency.” He disconnected without further
discussion and she sat staring at the phone in her hand. Whoever said that
twins could sense each other’s injuries were wrong this time. She’d slept
through the whole thing.
* * *
Her hands
trembled as the paid the taxi driver and climbed out of the car. She knew that
hockey was a rough sport…some might even call it violent, but she’d never
considered that violence would touch Cam. How ridiculous was that?
The doors of
Emergency whooshed open and she entered, looked around and spotted her parents.
Her mother seemed to have aged ten years and her father looked like he might
never smile again.
“Have you
heard anything?” she asked, acknowledging her father and taking her mother’s
hands in her own.
Her father
stood up and started pacing. “The Doctor was here a minute ago. They’ve taken
Cam for an MRI. He’s still unconscious.” His voice wavered. “He’d chased the puck
into the corner and passed it off already when this big bruiser slammed him
into the boards.” He closed his eyes as though to block out the image. “Cam
just crumpled onto the ice.” His opened his eyes again and looked around the
waiting room as though wondering what he was doing there. “He was so still.”
Claire
nodded. There was nothing she could say to ease the pain. They’d all seen Cam
hurt before, but nothing like this. She gave her mother’s hands a gentle
squeeze. “Can I get you anything, Mom? A cup of tea?” She looked up at her
father. “Dad?”
He nodded.
“Yes, tea would be good.” He touched Claire’s mother on the shoulder. “Grace?
Would you like a cup of tea?”
She nodded,
gave her daughter a weak smile. “Thank you dear; that would be nice.”
Claire brought
back three cups of tea and the vigil began. Her father paced, frustration
leaking from every pore in his body. Her mother sat quietly, lost in thought.
The Doctor came back shortly before eleven and informed them that Cam had been
taken to a room. He was still unconscious, but the results of the MRI were
excellent.
“We have him
sedated,” the doctor reported. “You might as well go home and get some sleep.
In cases like this we like to keep them immobilized.”
They left
reluctantly, and Claire’s parents dropped her off at her apartment before going
over the bridge. “We’ll pick you up in the morning,” her father informed her.
“That way we can all be there when he wakes up.” He was speaking for her
mother’s benefit; Claire knew that, but she clung to his words. “Okay, Dad,”
she said, raising her cheek for the familiar kiss. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t
there.”
He looked
startled, angry perhaps. “I don’t want to hear any more of that kind of talk. I
know what you’re thinking but there’s nothing you could have done to prevent
it, so don’t go blaming yourself.” He looked into her eyes. “We need to
concentrate all our energies on Cam. On helping him recover.”
She nodded
tearfully and watched them drive away. No matter what he said, she still felt
guilty for not being there.
* * *
Cam woke up
the next afternoon while their parents were taking a walk in the hospital
corridors. He saw Claire and smiled. Then he pointed to the water glass and she
held the straw to his lips.
“Just a
couple of sips,” she said, when he tried to take more. “I asked the nurse and
she was quite adamant about that.” She grinned at him. “I think she has a crush
on you by the way.”
He turned his
head and winced in pain. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” he said
hoarsely.
“Do you
remember what happened?” She held her breath. Please don’t let him have lost
his memory.
“Oh, yeah. It
was a late hit.” He tried moving again. “Are Mom and Dad okay?”
“They’re
right outside. I’ll go get them.”
She found
them opposite the nurses’ station, speaking with the doctor.
“…that will
be my recommendation,” he was saying, then looked up at her approach. “Hello,
Miss Collins. I was telling your parents that Cameron has suffered a concussion
and that I’ll be wanting to keep a close eye on him for the next couple of
months.”
She saw the
disappointment in her father’s eyes.
“But he’ll be
all right, won’t he?” she asked.
“I believe
so. Eventually. But even minor concussions are serious injuries. Not only in
their own right, but because of the cumulative effects in the event of another
concussion. We call it second-impact syndrome.” He looked at her father. “I’ve
already consulted with the team doctor, and we both agree. Cameron won’t be
playing hockey for the rest of the season.”
Claire’s
father started to walk away and the doctor called after him. “Look at it this
way, Mr. Collins. Your son is one of the lucky ones.”
“Oh my
goodness, I forgot. I came out to tell you he’s awake.”
They all
walked briskly down the hall. The doctor gave Cam a cursory examination, and
then straightened up. “You’re a lucky young man, Cameron. You’ve had a minor
concussion, but as far as we can tell, there’s no long-term damage.”
Cam looked
from the doctor to his father. “When can I go back?”
Donald
Collins cleared his throat. “Well, son, that’s up to the Coach, but you might
have to sit out the rest of the season.”
Some of the
sparkle went out of Cam’s eyes but he soon recovered. “I kind of expected that,
to tell you the truth. They’re being so much more careful these days.”
Claire
watched her twin absorb the news. She knew him well enough to know that he was
devastated, but trying to hide it for his father’s sake. It was difficult to
take solace from the fact that he’d probably come back next year - especially
since he’d been leading his team in points. A setback like this could cost him
his dream of playing in the NHL. Was it any wonder she’d turned away from
hockey? At least in tennis they didn’t try to injure one another.
* * *
“Zoey?”
Claire called her friend the next morning.
“Claire! I heard
about Cam, but didn’t want to bother you until later. How is he?”
“He’ll
recover, but it looks like he’ll be out for the rest of the year.”
“It’s just
not right. Don’t get me started.”
“I hear you.
Listen, Zo. Are you still looking for someone to write a few blogs?”
“Why? Did you
find someone?”
“I was
thinking about me.”