Beautiful(52)

They were both exhausted when they finished watching it, and looked at each other.

“I don’t know how you did those interviews,” Doug said in hushed tones and he poured himself a glass of wine. She was still on pain meds so she couldn’t drink.

“The crew cried constantly and so did I, but I have to admit, they did a good job with it. Sometimes it was just too much, hearing one tragedy after another, but they mixed them up pretty well.”

“The whole thing is a tragedy,” he said.

“I don’t want to be that,” she said, “a sad story that people tell. It was awful, and none of us will ever forget it, but we have to go on. I was luckier than a lot of people, and I’m not starving because I lost my job, but I don’t want to be a tragic figure, or have people see me that way, or see myself that way.”

“I don’t see you as a tragic figure,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re as big a pain in the ass as you ever were, even now that you’re not a superstar.” He was teasing her because she had never been difficult, and he had loved working with her. “You’re just a has-been now.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why they put me on the show, so people would feel sorry for me,” she retorted with spirit. But there was no question, she had lost a lot, they all had, even those who had escaped unscathed had the trauma to live with, which was huge. One woman had said that she had no injuries, but she hadn’t been able to leave her house in a year. She was too afraid of it happening again. It took a huge amount of courage to get past it, and move forward. Véronique had fought hard for that and still was.

They talked about her trip to Africa for a while after that.

“How long are you going to stay?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. A month, maybe two, if I love it. I have nothing to rush home for. I’m going to fly from here.” She couldn’t face going home again. It killed her walking into the empty apartment, expecting her mother to be there. She wondered how long that would last. It hadn’t gotten better yet. But Chip had told her he felt the same way about his father now when he had to go to the apartment to get something. They were such big people in life, that their absence was sorely felt.

She had spoken to Chip several times since she’d gotten back to New York, and she was planning to see him for lunch when she felt better, and wasn’t still woozy from the drugs. She felt fine in the apartment, but she didn’t feel up to going out yet. They had talked about the money she had inherited, and he was going to continue to invest it for her. She hadn’t told Doug about it. It was just too much money and it was embarrassing to talk to normal people about amounts like that. She was still shocked he had left it to her, but Chip seemed fine about it. He knew her now, and that she wasn’t some gold digger, and his father had genuinely loved her mother, who had sacrificed so much for him. He didn’t think his sisters would see it that way, and they would never know, the way their father had set it up. He had been an estate and tax attorney before he was in politics, so had done it well.

Doug stayed with Véronique until late that night, sensing that she didn’t want to be alone after watching the video. The firsthand accounts brought all the details back to her, some of which she didn’t even know until she worked on the film. The doctors and surgeons were always very discreet about the patients, and they had been about her too, which she had appreciated.

“Don’t stay in Africa too long,” he said wistfully, “I’m going to miss you.”

“It sounds really interesting. The little hospital where Dr. Dennis works only treats children, and their injuries sound very severe. Kind of like Brussels,” she said thoughtfully. “I wonder if that will ever fade from our minds,” she said with a sigh.

“Everything fades eventually, good and bad,” he said. “Good fades faster, and bad takes longer.” She was trying not to hold on to the terrible memories, but there were so many of them. And with time and distance, the memories were clearer, and the images so hard.



* * *



—

She sat thinking about it all after Doug left. He had been such a good friend to her ever since it happened.

The doctors were happy with the results again. More scars had disappeared on her legs and arms, although she still had many. The one on her stomach was less terrifying, as was the one on her ankle, where she had nearly lost her foot. That battle had been won before she even regained consciousness from the coma. She had pins in her ankle now, but didn’t feel them. The scars on her face had gotten much softer, the sharp edges had been smoothed down, the scarlet color had faded, and the area around them was normal skin tone now. There were still two deep grooves, but they didn’t look as angry, or as though they had been inflicted with an axe. Everything was getting gentler with time. The doctors had warned her to stay out of the sun in Africa and wear a hat at all times, but Dick Dennis would be there if she had a problem, and she could always come home if it was serious, or back to New York to see Dr. Talbot.

She saw Chip for lunch two days before she left, as promised.

“You look terrific,” he complimented her, and she didn’t know if he meant her scars or her general appearance. She was wearing a pink sweater and coat with jeans. She’d had to buy clothes to wear in Africa because she didn’t have the right things with her, or even own some of them. She was leaving some things at Doug’s apartment that she couldn’t use in Angola. “You look more relaxed,” Chip said to her.