Don't Make Me Beautiful (45 page)

“No, I’m not lying, I swear it.
 
I’ve told you a hundred times.
 
Your face reminds me in the most honest way how tough you are, how you keep getting up no matter what garbage the world hands to you.
 
You are a superhero to me.”

“And you’re
my
superhero.
 
We should get Wonder Twin rings or something.”

He smiles.
 
“Kicking it old school again, I see.”

“Always,” she says, smiling.

The surgeon steps in and they separate.

“Brian,” he says, holding out his hand.

Brian stands up straight and shakes it.
 
“Doctor Goldman.”

“I need to talk to Nicole alone, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.
 
I’ll be out in the waiting room.”

“You can leave the hospital if you want.
 
We’re going to be in surgery most of the day.
 
I’ll call your cell when I’m finished if you leave it with the nurses.”

“I’m going to stick around if that’s okay.
 
I don’t like the idea of not being here when she’s under the knife.”

“Do whatever you want.”
 
The doctor turns to Nicole, waiting as she kisses Brian goodbye.

“Love you,” Brian says, holding her face in his hands.

“Love you too.”

“See you soon.” He kisses her forehead.

“Yep.”
 
She can’t say anymore.
 
It’s too painful to think she might never see him again.
 
There’s always the chance that the surgery could have complications, but the option of greeting her daughter as a monster is too distasteful to consider any other alternative.

Once Brian leaves the room, the doctor faces his patient.
 
“So, how are we feeing this morning?
 
Nervous?”
 
He takes a pen out of his pocket and uncaps it.

As he opens the file on the exam table next to her, she glances down to see what he’s looking at.
 
“Where’d you get that?” she asks, staring at the photograph in the papers there.

“Brian gave it to me.
 
They had to have it restored, but it was fine for my purposes.”

He reaches up with the pen and starts drawing on her face.

She winces with the tickling sensation.
 
“What are you doing now?”

“I’m drawing in the areas that I need to move, cuts I need to make.
 
It’s like a blueprint for your new face.”

She reaches up and grabs his wrist.
 
“Stop.”

He freezes and looks at her quizzically.
 
“Are you changing your mind?”

“No.
 
I just … need to tell you something first.”
 
She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

He lowers his hand as she releases it from her grip, his face impassive.
 
“I’m listening.”

“You can’t make me look like I did before.”
 
Her agitation level is rising.
 
She can feel the heat in her face, and she glances down at the photo again.
 
She flashes back to John holding her in front of the mirror, comparing the two faces - one old and one new - and the horrible expression on his face as he tells her how pretty she used to be.

The doctor frowns.
 
“I’m quite sure I can, actually.
 
The x-rays were very promising, and as I stated before, the implants we have will more than make up for the missing bone structure.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m sure you can do it, that you have the skill...”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He sounds irritated, but she presses on, not letting it dissuade her.
 
“I can’t look like I did before.
 
I don’t want to.”
 
She stares at him, hoping to see that he understands, that he isn’t just going to write her off as a nut job.

He looks at the photograph as he holds it up next to her face.
 
“But whyever not?
 
You were beautiful before.
 
Your face was completely symmetrical, which is very rare.
 
Your cheekbones were high and delicate, your nose in perfect alignment with your chin.
 
I can put it all back how it was.”

She shakes her head, absolutely sure of what needs to be done.
 
“I’m only agreeing to this surgery if you can promise me that I won’t be as attractive as before.
 
I just can’t live that way ever again.”
 
She reaches up and puts her hand on his, curling her fingers around his much larger ones.
 
“Please, Doctor Goldman … make me look average.
 
Or make me less than average.”
 
She squeezes his hand, the desperation in her heart being translated in her grip.
 
“Just whatever you do … don’t make me beautiful.”

He stands there and stares at her for a few long seconds.
 
And then understanding dawns.

“You don’t like being beautiful.
 
You mean you’d rather be
not
beautiful?
 
You want to be average?
 
Plain?”

“No. I mean, yes. Being beautiful almost killed me once.
 
I don’t want to take that chance again.”

He nods slowly at first and then more quickly.
 
His voice shows resignation.
 
“Okay.
 
I’ll do my best.”

She nods too, sure by the look on his face, by the sadness and pity she sees there, that he will do as she’s asking.

She lets him go and he finishes drawing on her face.
 
She lays back at the request of the nurse who enters when he’s done.
 
Soon she’s hooked up with an intravenous line and medicine is flowing into her veins.
 
More doctors enter the room and consult with the surgeon, looking at her x-rays that are hanging on the nearby wall and a drawing of her new face that the surgeon has sketched.
 
An anesthesiologist appears above her head and tells her what he’s going to inject her with to put her out and ease her recovery later.
 
Nurses cover her body in sheets and blankets.

It all goes right past her as she stares at the surgeon’s face.
 
Most of it is covered by a mask and blue cap that keeps his hair out of his face, but she can still see his eyes.
 
They’re a serious, dark blue, and outlined on the sides with wrinkled skin.
 
She hopes that means he smiles a lot, that he’s kind and understanding, that he’ll grant her this one wish she has for her new life.

Just before the anesthesiologist delivers the final portion of his sleeping potion, the surgeon leans in and speaks to her through his mask.
 
“Are you ready, Nicole?”

“I’m ready.
 
Just please … whatever you do … don’t make me beautiful.”

The light in the room fades to black and Nicole falls asleep.

Chapter Sixty-Four

BRIAN SPENDS THE NEXT WEEK caring for Nicole as he would a helpless infant.
 
The first two days are the hardest, but slowly and surely, Nicole is able to get around on her own and function without too much trouble.
 
Liam is at his grandparents’ house for the two weeks so he can be spared the unpleasantness and so Brian can focus on Nicole.
 
Helen comes in and takes their son’s bedroom to help, and the two of them switch off playing nurse while Agnes manages to keep them all fed.

The pain Nicole endures from her fifteen-hour surgery is more than any of them ever expected.
 
Drainage tubes are removed after the first two days by a visiting nurse, but the swelling and pain flares have been intense.
 
It’s only now, after seven days, that she’s been able to move from the hardcore painkillers to the lighter versions.

Nicole says she’s used to the pain, but that doesn’t keep her from crying out at night many times.
 
Brian wonders how much of it comes from the pain in her face and how much is coming from the pain of not knowing where her daughter is.

“I’ve never heard of a doctor doing house-calls before,” she says, when Helen and Brian help her settle into a kitchen chair.
 
Her bandages have been changed several times by a nurse, but no one has seen the face underneath yet but her.
 
Nicole has refused to look in a mirror since before the surgery, and Brian and Helen have respected her wish not to be seen until the bandages are off.

The doorbell rings and Nicole starts with fright.
 
She’s expecting his arrival, but what it means is so much more than a simple medical visit.
 
Sitting at the table with her, Brian rubs her arm to help calm her while Helen gets the door.

“You okay?” he asks, taking her hand and squeezing it gently a couple times.

“I’m fine.
 
Just anxious to get this stuff off me and the stitches out.”

“I can’t wait to see your new look,” Brian says.

Nicole can’t respond to that statement.
 
The doctor is now in the kitchen with them and her fear seems to have taken her voice.
 
She shakes his hand as she clears her throat.

“How’s the patient today?” he asks, his smile crinkling his eyes at the corners.
 
He’s dressed to play golf.

“Good.
 
Anxious,” Nicole says.

“To be expected.
 
Would you like to do this here?” he asks, putting down a bag that looks like one someone might have carried fifty years ago while on house-calls.

Nicole sits down again.
 
“I guess, if Brian doesn’t mind.”

“No, not at all.
 
Go ahead.”

The doctor pulls out a sterile sheet and lays it on the table along with a few instruments.

“What are those for?” Nicole asks.
 
“All that metal is making me nervous.”

“Don’t let it make you nervous.
 
They’re the things I use to take off the bandages and take out the stitches.
 
It should be mostly painless.
 
Maybe just a pinch here and there, but I promise to be gentle.”

Nicole nods, sitting very still as he reaches up to her face.
 
He begins to cut away the bandages, careful to not touch her skin or hair.
 
Loops of gauze come off her face and head and ears.
 
“The cool air on my skin is nice.”
 

The first thing Brian notices is swelling around her cheeks and jaw.
 
He glances up at Helen and catches her expression.
 
He cringes inwardly at her complete inability to hide her emotions.

Nicole smiles at Helen.
 
“Don’t look so horrified.”

“Oh, shit.
 
Sorry.
 
I was just … looking at the bruises.”

“Try not to smile too much,” the doctor says, grinning a little himself.
 
“It’ll hurt.”

“I don’t mind that kind of pain,” Nicole says, wincing a little as the stitches are removed.

“Is that swelling or what?” asks Helen, pointing to Nicole’s cheek.

“Yes.
 
She has considerable swelling, which is totally normal.
 
She looks like a prize-fighter, doesn’t she?”
 
The doctor puts some stitching on the paper he laid out.
 
“She’ll be fine in about two to three weeks.
 
Don’t judge her until then.”

“I won’t judge her ever,” says Helen.
 
“She’s gorgeous no matter how this whole thing turns out.”

The doctor puts his scissors and tweezer down and examines her.
 
Putting some liquid on a piece of gauze, he wipes areas of her face.
 
“This is great.
 
I’m very pleased with what I’m seeing here, especially your nose.
 
You’re healing nicely and I’m pretty sure you’re going to be happy with the result.”

“Can I go look now?” Nicole asks.

The doctor puts down his gauze and stands, holding out his hands.
 
“Yes, you may.
 
Just remember that the swelling is only temporary.
 
Anything that looks out of alignment will fall into place as the fluids dissipate into your system and the tissue goes back to its normal state.”

“Don’t worry, I know all about swelling and bruises.
 
They fade and disappear quickly.”
 
She leaves the room and goes to the bathroom alone to look at her new face in the mirror.

Brian follows behind and waits back in the hallway for a minute or two, giving her time to see herself alone. He hears Agnes coming in and Helen exclaiming over her baked goods.

“So, what do you think?” Brian asks as he steps up to the entrance, leaning on the doorframe.

Nicole shrugs and turns to him.
 
“I don’t know.
 
So far so good?
 
The swelling will go down, I know, but I can’t tell what the final result will be.”

He smiles.
 
“So far so beautiful.”

“Don’t say that,” she says, stepping into his arms.
 
“Just call me … pretty.
 
I can live with pretty.”

“Okay, pretty girl … how about you come on out into the family room and celebrate with us?”

“Celebrate?”

“Yes.
 
Agnes just brought over a cake.”

Nicole looks up at him, shaking her head.
 
“How did I get so lucky?”

“I don’t know.
 
I guess we have Liam to thank.
 
If he hadn’t taken that baseball we caught and decided to play homerun slugger, I probably never would have met you.”