“Eww, Aunt J! Gross.”
Perfect, she’s distracted her. “How do you think you came to be, child?”
Mindy obligingly sticks her finger in her mouth and makes gagging noises.
“Hey, want some tea?”
“Yes, please. Peppermint.”
“I’ll be right back.”
9
Mindy wants to know what Aunt J was looking at on the computer. Clearly, something was wrong; Aunt J went white as snow and jumped like a rabbit when the nurse caught her snooping.
Probably there isn’t a match, and they are going to have to go out of the family to the donor database. Mindy doesn’t like the idea of a stranger’s DNA floating around inside her, though the idea of being a chimera is pretty cool. She could be two people at once. She should start looking at images of chimeras online, a tattoo of one would be awesome. She’ll do it on her left shoulder blade, intricate and coiled, like a snake about to strike.
As she is playing with this idea, Aunt Juliet comes back to the room with her tea. Her aunt is so pretty when she’s not worried. Now she is still white-faced but tosses Mindy a box of Hot Tamales candy with a grin. For some reason, the spicy cinnamon candy helps settle her stomach as well, or better, than the tea, but Lauren doesn’t like her to have them.
Mindy wants to be more like Aunt J. Carefree, smart, not constrained by whatever weirdness her mother has. Lauren and Juliet are nothing alike. How did two people from the same parents who grew up in the same household turn into such different people? Mindy catches Juliet’s eye, points at the computer, and raises an eyebrow. She could swear Juliet blanches again before she bites her lip, then shakes her head slowly.
No match, then.
Mindy lets out her breath, slow and controlled. It is good of Juliet to let her know. Now she can better school herself and be prepared while everyone freaks out about how to tell her.
Juliet sits on the edge of the bed. “You look distracted. Are you worried? I’m sure we’ll find a match.”
“Well, yeah, sure I’m worried. But it’s not that. Do you remember anyone ever calling my mom Liesel?”
“Liesel? Like the kid in The Sound of Music? No. Why do you ask?”
Mindy feels her face turn red, and Aunt J’s right brow hikes.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything, I swear. Mom has this weird letter in her underwear drawer from 1993. Whoever wrote it must have been a good friend, it said she missed her, and there was some other stuff. Mom was crying when she read it. You were, what, five, six in 1993? Do you remember anything strange?”
“I barely remember anything before we moved here in 1994. I was in first grade, and that’s when I got into the idea of going to space. With all the aerospace companies here, lots of parents worked at a firm called Martin Marietta, now Lockheed Martin, that made the rocket boosters. They were all into space stuff. We used to watch every launch—they’d bring all the grades into the cafeteria. For a little girl, it was almost like going to the movies, but it was real. The space bug bit me, and from then on, I wanted to be an astronaut. But I don’t remember much before that.”
“But Mom?”
“Your mom was away at boarding school. I barely saw her.” She is playing with Mindy’s ChapStick, turning it over and over as if remembering the weird dislocation of not having a sister around outside of photos and phone calls.
“I didn’t know she went to boarding school.”
“God, what was it called... Kent Country Day, something like that. Really elite school. Mom had to work two jobs to keep her there. Lauren worked, too, she was on scholarship, didn’t get to come home on breaks or anything. Then she went to college and studied art and met your dad and you came along. You know we weren’t super close. She was so much older than me.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“Nope. Sorry, kiddo. We just weren’t the kind of sisters who confided in one another. I could ask about it for you.”
“No. No way. She’ll know I was snooping.”
“I’m sure she’d forgive you. You are practically under house arrest, after all. Hey, tell me about the new skis you’re getting for Christmas.”
“What?”
“I thought I overheard someone talking about a sponsorship? K2, was it?”
Mindy squeals, all thoughts of Lauren and the mystery letter gone.
10
Juliet is rattled by Mindy’s line of questioning but tries to stay cool.
There’s an explanation. It’s a mistake. There’s a completely rational reason why the labs don’t match up.
Mindy is so overjoyed at the thought of the K2 sponsorship that she takes the explanation at face value and doesn’t ask again. They goof around for another twenty minutes until Lauren and Jasper come back, not exactly smiling, but looking a little less peaked.
“Hey, sis. They have meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Why don’t you go down and grab some?”
“I think I will. I skipped lunch. Mindy, you want anything?”
“More Hot Tamales. They have the boxes by the register.”
“Your wish is my command, princess. Back in a few.”
Juliet leaves them to adore their daughter. The nurse who busted her is nowhere to be seen, but she waits until she gets to the elevator to call Cameron.
He answers on the first ring in his crisp British accent.
“Juliet Ryder, please tell me you’ve decided to chuck that nasty job chasing criminals and come to work for me.”
“Hey, Cameron. No, sadly, I’m still a slave to the CBI. It’s that whole getting justice for the underrepresented thing. Call me crazy.”
“You’re crazy.”
She laughs. “Hey, listen. I actually called to ask a favor. It’s a bit of a delicate situation.”
“Shoot.”
“You ran some DNA on a case I’m...involved with.”
“You know I can’t discuss our cases, Juliet.”
“I do know that, but the DNA you ran was mine, so I’m giving you permission to look at the results and talk to me about them.”
“Ah. Juliet, darling, I don’t know that I can do it. Especially since I know you, it’s a total conflict of interest, and—”
“It’s life and death, Cam. My niece has cancer. You tested us all for a match to do a stem cell transplant. I’ve already seen the results. Something is wrong, and I’m trying to help you save your lab because if it gets out you’re making mistakes, it will sink you, and fast.”
His voice cools. “That sounds suspiciously like a threat, madam.”
“It’s not, but, Cameron, seriously, someone in your lab screwed up. Pull the case. Look at it yourself. Run the test again. You don’t want to look bad. This is enough of a high-profile situation without an error muddying the waters.”
“Your niece—you’re talking about Mindy Wright, the skier?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t normally ask, but as I said, the test had an obvious issue, so you’re going to want to run it again and get it right. Something might have been contaminated in the process, who knows. But there’s a problem.”
“Well, if you tell me, it might give me a leg up.”
“According to the DNA results I saw, I’m not related to her, and neither is her mother. Which would be a miracle of epic proportions, as I met the child before and after she came into the world.”
“Oh,” he says, a new tone in his voice. “Yes, that might be an issue. It won’t be under your names, though, you know we double-blind everything. What’s that case number?”
She lists it off, thankful as always for her facility with numbers.
“I’ll be back to you as soon as I can.”
“Thanks, Cameron. I owe you one.”
Juliet buys herself some dinner, scarfs it down, and sits for a while in the cafeteria, thinking.
Surely there is a mistake. It happens more than people know. Even the best labs have issues.
She should be ashamed of herself, snooping like that, but thank heavens she did. She is going to save her friend’s reputation, and they’ll find a match for Mindy on the second round, and all will be well.