Page 88 of Tear Me Apart
Juliet sounds contemplative. Zack can imagine her sitting there, her head tilted to the side, tapping her fingers along the shaft of the bottle, thinking.
“She says this to her DNA tech sister? God, how naïveis she? Or is she just in denial?”
“I vote for denial. But she never was the scientific type. Even when we were kids, her head was always in the clouds.” Bemusement now, and Zack thinks about what they’ve said, and he too finds it odd.
He also realizes he isn’t going to die. The strange feeling, while not gone, hasn’t worsened. Not poisoned, then, or the flu. Exceptionally tired, and overwrought, definitely. Maybe he should get out there before they think he’s wandering the house, looking in drawers.
He flushes and makes some extra noise coming back down the hall, to give them a moment.
“Altitude get you?” Jasper asks. He is slicing tomatoes casually as if they haven’t just been discussing life and death and lies.
“Altitude,” Zack groans. “Yes, that’s it exactly.” He remembers now the horrible feeling of crushing panic and sick stomach he got in the Hindu Kush mountains, high above Afghanistan. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been up this high. I totally forgot what it felt like.”
“Water and ibuprofen,” Juliet says, digging in her purse. “I have some here. It will help.” She hands him the pills and pours a glass of water. “Drink it all, and let’s get another couple in you as fast as we can. You’re dehydrated, and you’ll go downhill quickly if we don’t get plenty of water and painkillers in you.”
He lets her mother him, lets her cluck and fuss. It feels nice to have someone care, even if that someone is tangentially attached to the worst memories of his life.
“Better get Kat some extra water, too,” Jasper says, pulling down a large stainless steel bowl. “It can affect animals just like it does people. And let’s get some food in you. Burgers are ready, fries are done. You might not want to finish that beer.”
“Thank you,” Zack says. “You’re right, I think I’ll stick with the water. I feel like a total wuss.”
“Don’t. I’ve seen people laid low by altitude sickness so badly they had to be hospitalized. You’d be shocked, at the competitions, half the treatments the paramedics do are for altitude issues. No different than heatstroke at a hot beach.”
“You’re both very kind. I’m so glad Vi—Mindy has you.”
Jasper stops. “What did you start to call her?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to reframe her name in my head, it’s not easy. Violet. That was supposed to be her name.”
“Violet.” Jasper’s face grows utterly blank, closed, but he watches Zack with a new appreciation as if the whole thing has just clicked. “It’s a pretty name. I wonder what she’ll think about it?”
Juliet puts the food on the table as if nothing’s happened. “Dig in.”
Jasper is still watching him closely, as if he might explode at any minute. The reality is sinking in, he guesses, by the way Jasper is now fidgeting with a spatula. Zack’s lost daughter, lost life, lost possibilities. A girl named Violet, now known as Mindy. That Zack’s little girl istheirlittle girl.
“After we eat, I’ll show you her room, if you’d like.”
Zack meets Jasper’s eyes. They are a shockingly light blue, he didn’t notice before, and veiled, as if he is forcing himself to be kind, to be open, while inside, he is slowly dying.He’s losing his whole family, just like you did. The realization hurts.
“I’d like that very much.”
48
Mindy’s room is not what he expects from a teenage girl. It is immaculate, sparse. There is a small statue of the Buddha in the corner, sitting on a short wooden table, with a bronze gong and a few sticks of Nag Champa incense, a yoga mat unfurled. The walls are a warm green, like the forest outside, and the dark wood floors are unadorned except for a white shag rug and the mat. A desk completes the space, with bookshelves above, books alphabetically ordered. Mostly fiction, he notices, a pleasant flush going through him. It looks like a yoga studio, like a designer’s room.
“Like us, she has a very minimalist aesthetic,” Jasper says. “I know it’s somewhat odd, but she has never been attached to things like other kids. Over the years, she’s given most of her stuff away, clothes to Goodwill, toys to Toys for Tots. She always asks us to make donations instead of giving her gifts on her birthday and Christmas. Very altruistic. Except for her ski equipment, which has its own room downstairs. That, she insists on the top of the line, though now that she’s so successful, the manufacturers are breaking down our doors to sponsor her.”
Juliet is standing in the doorway, watching Zack with a small smile on her face. “Weird, huh? My room was always completely torn apart, books and clothes everywhere, posters stuck all over the walls. But Lauren’s was perfect, all the time. Bed made, clothes in the hamper, nothing lying around. She was my mother’s dream child, completely OCD, while I was always the mess. Mindy takes after Lauren in a lot of ways. She has a little OCD, too. It’s part of what keeps her focused on the prize. She just doesn’t bother with the extraneous stuff.”
Zack looks at the iMac computer on the perfectly neat desk, a small notebook next to it. “Where does she go to school?”
“Lauren homeschools her, for the most part,” Jasper says. “For a while, we had her in a program that allowed her to ski all winter and do school in the summer, but when she got onto the national circuit, it was just easier to do it ourselves. She loves school, loves to read. She’ll graduate at the end of the summer. College isn’t really in the cards right now, she’s...well, we have a lot of hurdles to overcome before we look into the future.” He glances at his watch. “It’s late. You have to be tired. Why don’t we show you to your room and you can get some rest.”
They are halfway down the hall when Juliet’s phone rings. She listens for a minute, eyes darting over to Jasper, then to Zack, and then thanks the person and hangs up.
The men watch her. Her face is unreadable. Finally, she speaks, a small catch in her throat.
“Well, we have one hundred percent confirmation. Zack, you are Mindy’s biological father.”
