Winners (17 page)

“It’s an incredible idea.” And he was right, it didn’t duplicate what Craig was doing or even the local rehab hospital for children. It was just different enough to be interesting, particularly for younger kids, who were much harder to place in rehab. Most rehabs needed to focus on older patients, but there were plenty of younger SCI patients, and even at Lily’s age, some of the programs were too serious for them, in order to have wide appeal to all ages.

“I’d also like to offer free scholarships to those who need them, can’t afford to pay, or aren’t covered by insurance.” She liked that idea too. There were plenty of people who could not afford extended stays in rehab, or to go at all, if they couldn’t pay or make up the difference, or justify it to their insurance. And facilities like that were expensive. “So what do you think?”

“I think it would be a remarkable gift to the SCI community if something like that existed. Craig is the best one of its kind we use, and some patients don’t fit their profile, although they’re very reasonable about who they take. I had a nine-year-old patient last year who didn’t work out at the children’s rehab where we sent her, whom we had a terrible time placing. We just couldn’t get the right fit, and something as individualized as you’re describing would be a tremendous asset in treatment planning. Some parents even try to do the rehab themselves. I think what you’re talking about would be a terrific solution. Beyond amazing. Are you really thinking of doing something like that?” She could tell he was, or he wouldn’t have called her.

“I wanted to know what you think.” He had come to respect her more and more, particularly after his tour of other neurosurgeons with Lily.

“I think it’s a very ambitious project, because I can’t imagine how you would do it, and it would cost a fortune. But I love the idea.” She sounded excited as she said it.

“I have friends here whose daughter had juvenile diabetes,” he said. “They built a hospital for her, which is now one of the best diabetes facilities in the country. Sometimes a project like this is what you have to do, or all you can do, if you can’t change what happened.” His voice was filled with emotion, and she understood. But there were very few people who could afford to make such a grand gesture, to include others in the same situation. She suspected that Bill could afford to, and might even have the drive to do it and see it through. He seemed like an incredibly creative and determined person, and she had come to respect him a great deal. He had made a heroic shift in his thinking, once he accepted Lily’s situation.

“I think what you want to do is admirable,” she said, sounding moved, and somewhat dazzled. It was hard to imagine achieving what he hoped to do, or having the money to do it. But that was the easy part for him.

“The problem is that I have no idea what I’m doing. All I have is heart and money. We would need expertise in order for this to work. I would want to hire the best doctors and therapists in the country.” And then he asked her a question she didn’t expect. He was full of surprises. “If I do this, would you run it and be the medical director?” She was stunned when he asked the question.

“I’m a surgeon, not an administrator,” she said honestly. “You could get someone a lot more competent than I am for what you want to do.”

“You could practice in Denver, and still do surgery in a hospital here. But this would need someone absolutely tops to run it, who really knows what’s needed.” She had to admit she loved the idea, and his excitement about the project, but it was impossible for her.

“I couldn’t do it to my kids. They’ve already been through so much, losing their father. I couldn’t move them away from here. Besides, they’d kill me. This is their home, they love it here, they grew up in Tahoe. And it’s a good place for them to be and for me to practice.”

“I had to ask,” Bill said apologetically. “I would have been a fool not to.” And he was no fool. He was one of the smartest men she had ever met. And she loved what he was trying to do. “Will you help me find the right people to run it, if I actually pull this off? Which remains to be seen. Right now it’s just a crazy pipe dream.” But she thought it was a good one.

“I’ll do my best. I’ll think about it.” She was going to mention it to Ben, her partner. His situation was less complicated than hers, he had no ties except to Kazuko, and no children. And Kazuko might even like to work there. Bill didn’t need a neurosurgeon to run it, although it might have been better. A good orthopedist could work too. But there were other neurosurgeons she could suggest. The problem would be finding someone who would be willing to relocate to Denver. She wasn’t, and couldn’t. She was too tied in to Squaw Valley. And even if Tim had been alive, she couldn’t have done it. He loved Lake Tahoe as much as their kids did. He would never have been willing to move, nor would her children, she knew. They all thought Lake Tahoe was the best place on earth.

“I’ll let you know how I’m doing,” Bill said. “I’m going to see a property this afternoon. This may all come to nothing, but it’s worth a look.” And she knew that building a rehab center for kids was part of his process of acceptance of what had happened to his daughter, just on a much bigger scale than most people could consider or even conceive of. But it was a healthy sign that he was thinking in this direction, even if his project never happened. It was a noble thought.

“Keep me posted,” she said, and they hung up. She didn’t expect to hear from him again anytime soon, or maybe ever on that project. But she was intrigued by it, and mentioned it to Ben late that afternoon, after she saw her last patient of the day. She told him what Bill had in mind and that he had asked her if she would ever move to Denver and run it, and she had said she couldn’t.

“That’s some wild idea he has there,” Ben said, looking at her. She seemed so worn out these days, she was burning the candle at both ends, working too hard, and no longer had Tim to share the load with the kids. She looked sad all the time now, and he hated to see it. “He must have more money than anyone on the planet if he’s considering something like that,” Ben said, visibly impressed.

“I think he can afford it. What about you?” she asked her partner. “It might be fun to help start something like that.” He was quick to shake his head.

“I’m happy here. I don’t have big ambitions to reinvent the wheel. I put people back together when they get hurt. I’m not star material like you are, Jessie. I never wanted to be. I’m a good doctor and a good surgeon, and I like my small-town life. That would be a big job, if he pulls off an SCI center for young kids. And a lot of headaches.” She thought it sounded extraordinary. “You should think about it,” he told her with a serious look.

“I can’t, Ben. I couldn’t do that to my kids. I can’t move them to Denver after what happened to Tim. That’s traumatic enough without a new city, new schools, leaving their friends and the house they grew up in. Besides, they wouldn’t let me.”

“He’d probably pay you a fortune to do it,” Ben said practically.

“That wouldn’t make a difference to the kids.”

“No, but it would to you.” They both knew that she had lost half their income when Tim died and he had left no insurance. He had meant to, but just hadn’t gotten around to it. They were both so busy, and young enough not to worry about dying yet. So now all she had to support them was her work, with four kids to feed and educate. But she shook her head with determination. “I’ve been thinking,” Ben said quietly. “At some point, you should go back to Stanford.” She looked startled when he said it, and a little hurt.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No. I meant what I said. You’re a star, Jess. You don’t belong here. You never did. I know you moved here for Tim, and you get some good cases occasionally, like the Thomas kid, but you should be in a big teaching hospital, where you can shine and get the challenges you deserve. I love working with you, but sometimes I don’t think it’s fair to you. I always thought that, when Tim was alive, and you wanted to be here to make him happy. Now you have to think of yourself. And your kids will be gone in a few years, sooner than you know. You deserve a bigger life than this, and a bigger forum to work from medically. You ought to think about going back to Stanford.”

She smiled at her partner. “Jimmy won’t be going to college for another twelve years. I’ve got a lot of years left here, and then I’ll be too old to make a move. I’ll be fifty-five years old, and they don’t want old docs at Stanford—they want bright, fresh new ones, with innovative ideas. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Dr. Steinberg,” she announced, and he looked at her regretfully.

“I’m not stuck, Jessie, you are. You should think about this guy’s offer, if you won’t go back to Stanford.”

“Who knows if he’ll ever do it?” she said sensibly. “He’s on some kind of euphoric high after his kid’s accident. It’s all part of the grief process for him, probably more fantasy than reality. I can’t get caught up in other people’s dreams, Ben. I’ve got my own reality. And mine is four kids to support, who want to live here, where they grew up.”

“Don’t let them run your life, Jess. You have to think of yourself too.”

She laughed at what he said. “Spoken like a man with no children. Believe me, I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell Heather Matthews she’s moving to Denver. She’d put a contract out on me. She nearly did yesterday because I ironed her blouse wrong and shrank her jeans. Tim always did the laundry better than I do. God save me from fifteen-year-old girls. I’d rather face a firing squad than tell her she’s moving to Denver.” She laughed again, thinking about it, just as her BlackBerry rang. It was the hospital telling her that her post-op patient from the day before had spiked a fever. She said she’d be there in five minutes. “Anyway, I think it would be fun for you.” But it was more work and commitment than Ben wanted. He liked to work hard and play hard, and he had never been as driven about his career as Jessie, but she couldn’t do it either, for four very good reasons, her children. All she could do to help Bill was suggest other neurosurgeons to him, who might be interested in the job.
If
he ever did it. She hurried out of the office then, with a wave at Ben.

And after that she had to get home to her kids, help with homework, do laundry, pay bills, and cook dinner. And maybe come back to the hospital again, since she was on call. The days were long for her now, and the nights were longer, with no help from anyone except Chris, her oldest son. And when he left for college in the fall, it would be a nightmare. All she could see ahead of her now was a long, long road, of hard work, and sadness without Tim. And all of it showed in her eyes and her worn expression of grief.

Bill and Joe met Hank Peterson at the property that they had discussed, ten miles out of town. It was exactly thirty-four acres, and the structures on it were as beautiful as Steve had said. There was a very large main building that was impeccably finished and looked like a large French country manor. All the details were exquisite. It had lovely French windows and a mansard roof, and a wide porch around it. There were orchards that had gone unattended and were rotting, and what had been extensive gardens were overgrown. The house was only a few years old and in perfect condition inside. The roof was sound, with no sign of leaks.

Bill counted twenty bedrooms in the main house, all of them lovely, with their own bathrooms. The owner had spared no expense on the construction. There were a few pieces of furniture here and there, but essentially it was unfurnished. The broker said the contents had been sold off in an auction in order to raise money for the mortgage. There were large common rooms, four of them, and a state-of-the-art kitchen and, on a lower level, a maze of offices.

There was a second building with twelve bedrooms, and a similar setup. And a third one that looked as though it might have been the spa, with rooms for massages, steam rooms, a sauna, a hot tub, and a small lap pool. And three more buildings farther out that could have been dormitories for the staff, or offices. There was a large gym, in a building of its own, an enormous garage, and several smaller outbuildings that looked like they were for equipment. And at the back of the property was a greenhouse that was very pretty and was a jungle of overgrown plants. There was an outdoor cooking area, a little stream that ran through the property, and a small stable with a corral. It had everything Bill could have wanted, and it was easy to see the love and care and money that had been poured into it. He could sense easily how disappointed, and even heartbroken, the owner must have been when it failed. Bill made no comment as he walked through it. He didn’t want the broker to see how excited he was.

“Do you know yet who owns it? The bank or the original owner?”

“Apparently the owner. I checked. The bank is close to foreclosing on it, and they figure they’ll have to any day. But he’s still making payments, barely. He doesn’t want to sell it. Yet. But the bank says he’ll have to sooner or later.” Like vultures, they were waiting to grab it. And it made Bill sad for the owner when he saw how beautiful the place was and all that had gone into it for naught. And it was wasted now, standing empty and unused.

“Do you know how much he’s got in it?” Bill asked with the appearance of casual disinterest.

“He paid five million for the land, and whatever it cost him to build it. I don’t know how much, but it looks like he spent a bundle. Good way to lose your shirt. I think you’d probably get it if you make an offer. Officially it’s not on the market, but the bank thinks he’d take a decent offer.” Bill was quietly trying to calculate how much the owner must have spent on the two main houses, the four smaller buildings, and all the sheds and outbuildings, the gym, and the garage. It had been a very expensive project, and bad luck for him that the economy had folded almost at the same time. He figured that in another city he could easily have spent ten or even twenty million dollars on the structures, in California or New York. In Denver maybe five to seven, along with the cost of the land.

Bill walked the entire property with Joe, and made very little comment. This was one of those things that was happening by instinct for him, straight from the gut. He still wasn’t certain he could put a rehab center together, but once he had the place, that much would be sure, and he could always sell it later. And all the structures were in excellent shape because they were new. They had thirty-two bedrooms for patients, he had counted, twice that if they put patients two to a room, and the bedrooms were a good size. Each had its own bathroom that would have to be refitted for handicap needs. And there were buildings for staff dormitories, and for offices, a garage, a gym, and a spa. They had everything they needed to get started, in fact more than enough. And it was a beautiful place. The owner had had the ground leveled before he built, and there were smooth broad paths that would work for wheelchairs. Bill knew, as he glanced around, it was the place. He hadn’t even looked for it. It had found him.