Chapter 14
14
C apri’s long-term prognosis was good but not without difficulty. She quickly learned she would not be returning home anytime soon.
“Compound fractures that require external fixation prompt a far more complicated healing process than simple breaks,” Dr. McCord pointed out. She learned foreign medical terms like Steinmann pin traction, Thomas splint, Pearson attachments, intramedullary rod, and post-operative edema, among others.
To her dismay, she also discovered she’d be dismissed from the hospital and directly head to a rehabilitation center where she’d spend time in intense physical therapy to increase her weight-bearing ability and to strengthen muscles that had atrophied during her extended hospital stay. She’d progress to therapies intended to restore her range of motion, joint mobility, balance, and coordination. She’d be enduring recovery for weeks before she could even return home and resume any sense of normalcy.
The entire mess frustrated her, at best. At worst, she was a total grouch.
One evening, she was in a particularly sour mood. Jake showed up after work with some chocolate milkshakes. “A treat,” he offered, leaning to brush a kiss on her forehead.
Capri glared at the milkshake, then at Jake. “Oh, perfect. Just what I need while I’m stuck in this bed, not moving—extra sugar to make sure I roll out of here instead of walk. What’s next? A side of fries to really round me out?”
Jake grinned as he set the milkshake on her tray. “Well, aren’t you just a delight? Here I was thinking I’d earn some points for bringing your favorite, but if you’d rather pout, I can always hand the treat off to someone at the nurse station who appreciates a good chocolate shake.”
Okay, fine. She was being a pill—a big, hard-to-swallow one. But no one seemed to grasp just how excruciatingly bored she was or how utterly done she felt with all of this.
She let a tiny grin form at the corners of her mouth as she grabbed the milkshake off the tray. “Look, I might be a handful…but you have two hands.”
Jake wasn’t the only one keeping tabs on her.
Word spread of her foul mood faster than wildfire in a dry season, and before Capri could properly wallow, her girlfriends swept into her hospital room like a well-organized ambush—Reva with a deck of cards, Lila carrying contraband snacks, and Charlie Grace declaring, “If you’re gonna be cranky, at least let us enjoy the show.”
Capri exhaled heavily, reluctant to admit how thrilled she was to see them.
Visitors were far better than watching the clock tick on the wall. She hadn’t done anything but lay here, poked and prodded, forced to endure bland hospital food and her own restless mind.
“You look awful,” Reva announced, plopping into the chair beside the bed.
“Gee, thanks,” Capri muttered, shifting against the stiff hospital sheets. “I live for your encouragement.”
Charlie Grace grinned as she set a bag of kettle corn on the bedside table, the buttery, slightly sweet aroma a welcome contrast to the antiseptic air. “We heard about your cranky mood and figured we’d better intervene before the nurses staged a rebellion.”
Reva crossed her legs, looking particularly proud of herself. “I’ve already taken steps to make sure an accident like this never happens again. I’m talking major steps.”
Capri narrowed her eyes. “What kind of steps?”
“The town council met with state and U.S. Park Service officials yesterday. We’re getting state-of-the-art avalanche mitigation equipment, expanded rescue teams, and—wait for it—an emergency response fund that will ensure no one has to rely on just a locator beacon and a prayer ever again.”
“That’s…impressive,” Capri admitted, her voice sober.
Reva shrugged, but there was steel in her gaze. “The avalanche made national news, Capri. Everyone’s watching. We needed to act fast.”
The mention of the avalanche sent a chill through the warm room. The scent of kettle corn, the rustling of plastic snack bags, even the distant sound of beeping monitors faded as Capri’s thoughts drifted.
Her voice softened. “Have they…held the funerals yet?”
A silence settled over the room, heavy and unspoken. Reva exchanged a glance with Charlie Grace, who then looked at Lila.
Reva cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. “Let’s talk about something else.”
Before Capri could press further, Lila reached into her oversized purse and, with a triumphant smile, pulled out a bottle of champagne, along with a set of plastic flutes. “We’re going to need the nurses to get us some ice,” she announced.
Capri blinked at her. “We’re drinking? In a hospital?”
Charlie Grace smirked. “Of course, we are. Providing you are not on painkillers.”
“I haven’t taken any for nearly twelve hours,” Capri quickly assured while glancing at the wall clock. A wide grin formed. “I can skip the upcoming dose. I’ve missed our Friday night get-togethers.”
“Us too.” Reva stood, smoothing a wrinkle from her skirt. “But you’re limited to one glass. Wait here,” she said before disappearing into the hallway. Moments later, she returned with a small bucket of ice and a can of Diet Coke in hand. “For me,” she said with a pointed look.
Lila popped the cork, the soft pop echoing in the small room, followed by the fizzy rush of champagne filling the cups.
She lifted her glass. “A toast is in order.”
Charlie Grace arched a brow. “A toast?”
Lila’s smile widened as she looked at each of them in turn. “Yes,” she said, her voice brimming with pent-up excitement. “I’m going to be a grandmother.”
Capri’s jaw dropped. Charlie Grace’s drink nearly sloshed over the rim.
“Oh. My. Word.” Reva’s eyes went round. “Are you serious?”
Lila offered a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dead serious. Camille showed up out of nowhere after leaving school and dropped the news on me. I’ve been sitting with it, trying to wrap my head around everything.”
Capri let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Well, that is amazing news. Guess we do have something to celebrate.”
She raised her glass, a genuine smile tugging at her lips for the first time in days. Maybe she was laid up in this bed, feeling like she’d never be herself again—but life outside was still moving forward.
And that was something worth toasting to.