Page 36 of Tear Me Apart
He waits.
Lauren takes a deep breath. “We aren’t matched for a reason.”
He nods as if he’s been waiting for her to bring it up all along.
“I just... I didn’t... You didn’t tell Mindy, did you?”
“Of course not. I emphasized it’s often difficult to find a match with parents, which is why we have a donor database. And, Lauren, you don’t owe me any explanations. You’re that girl’s mother, and that’s all I need to know. But I’m glad you’ve mentioned it, because this is what I wanted to talk to you about. It would be good for us to get in contact with the biological family. There may be a match there, save us the trouble of going wide.”
But she is already shaking her head, so he holds up his hands.
“You don’t know where they are? It was a closed adoption?”
“Yes.”
“I understand. Just curious, why didn’t you tell me to begin with?”
“I didn’t know it was going to matter. I thought between the three of us, someone would match. I guess I’m not as schooled in the finer points of science as my sister.”
“I see. Well, we’ve loaded Mindy’s profile into the system and put out an urgent request for donors. We’ll find someone soon, I hope.”
“Dr. Oliver, what happens if we don’t?”
He smiles again, and this time, it is sad.
“I won’t lie to you, Lauren. Her numbers aren’t improving. But let’s not think that way, okay? Now, I want you to pack it in for the night. Go home. Spend some time there. Give Mindy a little space. She’s tired of being brave and is putting up as good a front as you are. Oh, and, Lauren?”
“Yes?”
“Your arm is bleeding. I noticed you scratching at it. I can give you some Ativan if you think it will help.”
She looks down at her arm, aghast to see blood on her shirt. Her nail is rimed with red. She was dragging it across her skin without realizing it while they talked, and she’s opened a wound.
“I’m fine,” she says sharply. “Thank you for pointing it out. I’ll get a Band-Aid from the nurses’ station.”
Lauren leaves the office angry. Angry at God, at Dr. Oliver—who doesn’t deserve it, the man is a saint—angry at herself, for her incredible lack of discipline. Scratching open her arm like a common dog. She has to get herself together.
18
Juliet shows up midmorning, looks Lauren up and down and shakes her head.
“My God, you’ve lost even more weight since I was here. When’s the last time you had a decent meal—not from the hospital kitchens? Hey, are you bleeding?”
Lauren glances down at her arm. The Band-Aid needs changing. She has gone too deep. So much for getting herself together.
“I’m fine. Mindy—”
“Needs her mother, yes. But she needs you whole and healthy, not a shadow of yourself. Come on. We’re going to go get a gigantic cheeseburger, and ten orders of fries, and you’re going to creak when you’re finished. And you can tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Junk food is not—”
“Since when is a cheeseburger junk food? For heaven’s sake, I remember—”
Lauren holds up a hand.
“Onion rings. I want onion rings, too.”
“You’re on, sister.”
