MIRROR IMAGE

CHAPTER FIVE

"I'm not at all surprised by her reaction. It's to be expected in accident victims." Dr. Sawyer, the esteemed plastic surgeon, smiled placidly. "Imagine how you would feel if your handsome face had been pulverized."

"Thanks for the compliment," Tate said tightly.

At that moment, he would have liked to crush the surgeon's complacent face. Despite his sterling reputation, the man seemed to have ice water flowing through his veins.

He had done fine-tuning on some of the most celebrated faces in the state, including debutantes who possessed as much money as vanity, corporate executives who wanted to stay ahead of the aging process, models, and TV stars. Although his credentials were impressive, Tate didn't like the cocky way he dismissed Carole's apprehensions.

"I've tried to put myself in Carole's place," he explained.

"Under the circumstances,  I think she's  bearing up very well—better than I would ever have guessed she could."

"You're contradicting yourself, Tate," Nelson remarked.

He was sitting beside Zee on a sofa in the ICU waiting room. "You just told Dr. Sawyer that Carole seemed terribly upset at the mention of the surgery."

"I know it sounds contradictory. What I mean is that she seemed to take the news about Mandy and the crash itself very well. But when I began telling her about the surgery on her face, she started crying. Jesus," he said, raking a hand through his hair. "You can't imagine how pitiful she looks when she cries out of that one eye. It's like something out of 'The Twilight Zone.' "

"Your wife was a beautiful woman, Mr. Rutledge," the doctor said. "The damage to her face panics her. Naturally, she's afraid of looking like a monster for the rest of her life. Part of my job is to assure her that her face can be reconstructed, even improved upon."  Sawyer paused to make eye contact with each of them. ''I sense hesitation and reluctance from you. I can't have that. I must have your cooperation and wholehearted confidence in my ability.''

"If you didn't have my confidence, I wouldn't have retained your services," Tate said bluntly. "I don't think you're lacking in skill, just sympathy."

"I save my bedside manner for my patients. I don't waste time or energy bullshitting their families, Mr. Rutledge. I leave that to politicians. Like you."

Tate and the surgeon stared each other down. Eventually, Tate smiled, then laughed dryly. "I don't bullshit either, Dr. Sawyer. You're necessary. That's why you're here. You're also the most pompous son of a bitch I've ever run across, but by all accounts, you're the best. So I'll cooperate with you in order to see Carole returned to normal."

"Okay, then," the surgeon said, unaffected by the insult, "let's go see the patient."

When they entered the ICU, Tate moved ahead, arriving first at her bedside. "Carole? Are you awake?"

She responded immediately by opening her eye. As best he could tell, she was lucid. "Hi. Mom and Dad are here." He moved aside. They approached the bed.

"Hello again, Carole," Zee said. "Mandy said to tell you she loves you."

Tate had forgotten to caution his mother against telling Carole about Mandy's initial session with the child psychologist. It hadn't gone well, but thankfully, Zee was sensitive enough not to mention it. She moved aside and let Nelson take her place.

"Hi, Carole. You gave us all a fright. Can't tell you how pleased we are that you're going to be okay."

He relinquished his position to Tate.  "The surgeon's here, Carole."