“How much of it would you want to work on?” he asked her gently.
“Maybe just the worst ones for now, when I get the surgery on my face. They did cosmetic work on my face in Brussels, but not on the scars on my body.”
“I can see that. We’ll do a little sanding and polishing,” he said, smiling at her, “and see how you feel about it afterward. Dr. Talbot will do a wonderful job on your face. It’s what he does best. As he told you so inelegantly, I do the bodywork.” He did mostly tummy tucks and breasts, but she didn’t need either. And liposuction on thighs and buttocks, none of which was relevant for her. She had a flawless body, along with her perfect face, except for the scars she had everywhere now from the shrapnel. It was a crime to see what had happened to her, but in spite of the damage, she was a stunningly beautiful young woman, and he wanted to help restore her to something closer to what she had been. “I look forward to seeing you if you come back to us, Véronique,” he said kindly. “I’d be in the surgery with Dr. Talbot. The recovery will be fairly quick, much faster than what you went through while you were in critical condition.” It all sounded appealing to her, and she liked them both. She had liked her surgeons in Brussels too, but they were more serious and more military, and not as polished and friendly. She had fallen into a very high-end practice, one of the best in New York. She was excited about what they might be able to do, and they gave her a glimmer of hope for the future.
She was smiling when she thanked Dr. Dennis, and left the office a few minutes later. It was the most hopeful thing that had happened to her since the bombing.
She went over to Madison Avenue, and walked almost all the way downtown to her hotel, looking in the shop windows. She stopped at one of them, and bought a bright red sweater, which suited her mood. She had been wearing subdued colors, she realized, so as not to draw attention to herself, and suddenly she felt fine about it. She felt like she was coming back to life. She could hardly wait until Christmas. She wanted to call and tell them that she wanted to have the surgery, but promised herself to think about it, and not make a hasty decision. She’d loved everything she’d heard at the appointment.
She was in great spirits when she got back to her hotel, and decided to call her father and tell him about it. The butler told her that Senator Hayes was resting and couldn’t be disturbed. He’d had a difficult morning. She hoped she hadn’t contributed to it by wearing him out the day before, and left a message saying that she hoped he felt better, and sent him her love. He had told her that she could call him anytime, and she had taken him at his word, and hoped that was all right.
She spent the rest of the day taking it easy and thinking about everything the two plastic surgeons had said. They had given her a glimmer of hope for the first time in months. A hope that she might look even slightly more normal again. She walked around SoHo in the late afternoon, went back to the hotel for an early dinner, and left for the airport in time for her evening flight to Paris.
She was standing in the airport, waiting to board her flight, thinking about the past twenty-four hours, seeing her father, and the doctor’s appointment that morning, and she knew that she didn’t want to wait any longer to book the surgery. She took Phillip Talbot’s card out of her purse, and called him on his cellphone. It was nine o’clock at night, but she didn’t want someone else to get her slot for the surgery.
He answered immediately and she said who it was.
“I’m sorry to call you so late, but I wanted to tell you, before I fly back to Paris. I would like to do the surgery on December twenty-second, as you suggested. And Dr. Dennis said that he could do some of the scars on my body too.”
“Well, that is good news, Véronique. We’ll be very happy to have you with us for Christmas. Would you like me to book one of the guest apartments for you?” He made it sound like a fun weekend and a party, not surgery.
“Yes, I would,” she said, feeling breathless. She would never have thought that she would be excited about surgery. He had already told her that the surgery itself would be performed at NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital, and she would spend three nights there before moving to one of their guest apartments to continue the recovery. The apartments sounded extremely plush and comfortable, and she was sure they were. She also wanted to ask him the cost of the surgery, since she had no insurance that would pay for it. She was going to use some of the money her mother had left her. She was sure her mother would have been happy to know how she was using it.