Forevermore

by Cristiane Serruya

  “I can see that.” He leaned close enough that she could smell the fresh scent of his soap and her heart kicked against her ribs.

  She imagined burying her nose in the curve of his neck, but immediately blinked away the startling thought.

  Then he pulled a leaf from her long, blond tresses, twirled it on his fingers and gave it to her with a half-smile, before turning and opening the door to her. “Inside you go.”

  After a few minutes, Aleksander noticed Olivia was too quiet in the back seat. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he saw her moon-white face looking out of the window with a pensive air. “What’s on your mind, Pumpkin?”

  She gnawed on her lip and sighed. “Do some people go to heaven soon?”

  His heart slammed against his ribcage. He tried to deflect with humor. “As opposed to having to wait outside Heaven, like at a popular restaurant?”

  From the rear mirror, he saw Olivia rolling her eyes.

  “No, Daddy. I want to know if some people go to Heaven earlier than others. Like me, for example.”

  Aleksander caught Ava’s gaze, a question in his eyes. She shook her head slowly and mouthed, Don’t avoid it.

  Most of the time, that was just what he did. He changed the subject, skirted around the truth that was barreling up to meet them, breathing down their necks, getting closer every day. It was damned hard to think about Olivia dying and even harder to actually talk about it.

  “Yes. We just don’t know when we’ll go to heaven. Sometimes babies go to heaven. Most of the time, only really old people go to heaven.”

  Olivia thought a bit about his answer. “Everyone else goes to hell?”

  A laugh burst out from Ava, and she turned on the seat to watch Olivia’s reaction. At the frown on her face, Ava said, “No, Liv. All good people go to Heaven, no matter what age they are.”

  “But what if I’m not good enough?”

  “Of course, you’re good enough,” Aleksander said immediately. Of all the things she had to worry about, that was the one she should be least concerned with. The scene in town was just one of a thousand times where Olivia had shown her enormous heart.

  “Why? Does that scare you, skatten min?”

  “Hmm, no. I guess not,” Olivia said. “It’s just that I have a list of things to do before I go there.”

  His fingers tightened on the wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. He let out a long breath—half relief, half pain—and shifted again before flicking the radio on. “So, what’s on your list?”

  “Build a fort in the living room, sit in a police car and meet a K-9; catch fireflies; feed the ducks; go down a slide and swing on a swing,” Olivia read the entries in her diary. “But I am sure there are more that I need to do.”

  “I can think of a few things you might like.” said Ava. “Make a snow angel?”

  “Yes! And build a snowman,” she added excitedly.

  Aleksander suggested, “Camp in the backyard in a tent.”

  “Right! With a ghost story at midnight!”

  “Go fishing?” Ava added.

  Olivia giggled. “Paint Daddy’s nails red.”

  Ava burst out in laughter.

  Aleksander groaned. “That is so not going onto your bucket list, missy.”

  But the truth was, whether she knew it or not, he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d deny her.

  Chapter 14

  When they arrived home, the tree was already standing in the living room, arranged in front of the wall of windows. Olivia’s eyes lit up when she saw it.

  “It looks perfect!” she said, as Aleksander set her down.

  Indeed, it did look perfect, even bare. Despite looking so large on the lot, it was a good size for the room—majestic, but not too overpowering. “What about the lights?”

  Matthias had brought a large box of Christmas decorations down from the attic. Olivia was already going through them, pulling out boxes of red glass ornaments and ribbons. She frowned when she reached the bottom. “Where are the lights?”

  Aleksander scratched his chin and grimaced. He vaguely remembered Rachel saying something about having to toss the lights away two years ago, because they’d seen better days. “I think we might need new ones.”

  “Back down the mountain we go?” Ava asked.

  He looked at her, surprised. “You don’t mind?”

  Ava shrugged. “Not at all.”

  Aleksander nodded and asked, “How about you, Liv? Shall we go now or tomorrow?”

  Ava swung her gaze to the sofa and saw that Olivia had rested her head on Toddy’s back, her eyes drooping slowly shut.

  “I’m not surprised she’s out,” Ava said softly. “She chattered all the way back.”

  Before Aleksander could do it, Ava crossed the room and eased Olivia down flat on the cushions and stretched out her legs so she’d be more comfortable, then she covered her with the fur blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch.

  “She’d want multicolor lights,” he said. She looked so peaceful lying there, so much like a little angel, that he felt a stab of pain in his heart.

  “How about we go get the lights, then surprise her when she wakes up?”

  “Well, if you don’t mind?”

  She started to walk toward the stairs. “Let me tell Sydney and grab a warmer coat. It’s getting colder out there.”

  She disappeared for a few moments as he watched his sleeping daughter lying there, her chest rising and falling with every breath. As he watched her, he was struck with the unfairness that sometime soon, she’d be gone. That familiar pain wrenched his heart, clogged his throat. He stifled it and tried to remember that he needed to focus on the now, on committing these last happy moments with her to his memory. He tucked her in again and gave her a kiss, and before long, Ava was standing in the doorway.

  “All set.”

  He looked her over. She had changed into a long wool Mongolian lamb black coat, clearly designer made and expensive. Classy, fancy even, but not extravagant because there wasn’t anything extravagant about her.

  Just that elegant, regal strength, and how he wanted to relax into that, to rely on it. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his world was tilting in a way it never had before and he needed something to stabilize him.

  “You’re right. It’s getting damn near frigid outside,” Aleksander said, as he led her to the coat closet in the foyer. He pulled open the double doors and surveyed the orderly contents—labels of containers of scarves, hats, mittens; it was hard to believe only three people lived in the place. He grabbed one of his wool scarves and looped it loosely around her neck. “We don’t want you catching a cold.”

  The scent of his exotic raw masculine pine cologne swirled around her and she felt heat emanating from his hard body so near hers.

  He was taking care of her, like some precious thing, and she felt her body responding to it, leaning into it, wanting more.

  “I lived in Norway, Alek,” she managed to say, her voice raspy. “I’m used to the cold.”

  “Let’s not take a risk.” He turned again and took a gray wool cap from the closet and put it on her head.

  “Life is risky,” she said with a smile, thinking she must look ridiculous.

  “Now let’s see about your hands.”

  As he took her hand in his, she realized how warm and pleasant his hand felt over her cold hands.

  “Like blocks of ice,” he remarked, his grayish-green eyes boring into her, making her feel dizzy.

  He broke the gaze and began to survey the closet for gloves, his hand still wrapped tight around hers, fingers entwined with her fingers, as if he were intent on transferring his warmth to her. But whatever warmth he was delivering to her hands, it was nothing compared to the fire that had ignited in her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She withdrew her hands on the pretext of adjusting her hat—or rather, his hat.

  He handed her a pair of fine homemade mittens, which she put on, feeling suddenly like a stuffed sau
sage in layers of padding.

  “I look like I’m ready for a North Pole Expedition.” She craned her neck to peer into a mirror across the hall. “Yeah, it has gotten considerably colder since the morning, but this was a bit too much, don’t you think?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, appraising her. “You never can be too careful.”

  She realized as they once again stepped outside to the Mercedes that he was thinking of Olivia. She could see it in the way his brow furrowed, after quiet moments like the one he’d had while she’d gone to get her coat, that the weight of things was bearing down on him again. She waited until they were on the mountain road, heading toward town again, before she spoke.

  Aleksander,” she said gently, “children—sick ones, especially—seem to have a sixth sense when it comes to deciding if the people around them are being open and honest, and if they are worthy of trust. Above all else, they want candor and if they think they are being duped with lies and false promises, they usually plant their feet, square their shoulders, and insist on the truth.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Have I given her anything less than the truth?”

  “Of course not. But if you’re avoiding the topic because you don’t want to scare her, then don’t.”

  His fingers tightened on the steering wheel and his eyes narrowed as he admitted, “I suppose I am practicing avoidance.”

  “Children are often thinking about the possibility of death long before anyone else broaches the topic. When I work overnight shifts I often hear children discuss their own death,” she said. “It’s just needed to be given some air.”

  He took a deep breath. “And they…it helps them?”

  She nodded. “Talking about her death can empower her when she’s feeling otherwise powerless.”

  His face was tight, pained, but eventually he nodded. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

  He drove along in silence for a long time before he added, “We never talked about anything like that before. Nothing bad. We never had to shield her from anything, because it was like we were in our own fantasy world, our own bubble, where nothing bad ever intruded. Ours was a very happy family. But that’s what happens when a bubble bursts. Everything good disappears.”

  She studied him, fighting the tears that threatened to pour from her eyes. “I’m sorry.” It was all she could think to say.

  They didn’t say another word for the rest of the ride.

  Chapter 15

  By the time they arrived in town, the silence in the car was deafening. Here they were, surrounded by so much festivity in the village, and yet, it felt like a black cloud was hanging over them.

  Ava watched him from the corner of her eye. He didn’t seem bothered as he watched two drivers jockeying for position in the crowded parking lot; he seemed…blank. Dead. As if nothing mattered anymore.

  A short time later, after he’d found a precious spot in the back of the lot, they found themselves walking the wide, crowded aisles of a giant do-it-yourself store, which was announcing Black Friday Month, as if that made sense.

  It was a gigantic place and it reminded him why he usually sent Matthias on these kinds of errands. As powerful as he felt in the boardroom, he felt absolutely useless in stores.

  “Maybe this was a mistake,” he grumbled, being jostled by customers looking for bargains. “When did people start celebrating Christmas on the beginning of November? Goddammit.”

  “Oh, please,” she said, intentionally making her voice brighter to help lift his mood. “Where is your holiday spirit? It’s almost Thanksgivings.”

  He looked at her like she was insane. “I’m indulging in this holiday orgy because Olivia wants it. Not because I like it.”

  I know. I do the same. She stopped walking. “Really? How can you not like Christmas?”

  He paused to watch two old ladies fighting over a half-price pink bathroom rug. One of them succeeded in pulling it away from the other, and it flew across the aisle, smacking Aleksander on the chest. “I really don’t know.”

  One of the women lunged at him, yanked it from his grip, glaring, and pushed her way into the crowd.

  “Happy holidays,” he snapped after her.

  Ava couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing and the happy sound made something thaw inside him. He let out a chortle, more of a rumble from disuse.

  Then he looked at Ava. “So what does a doctor like yourself want for Christmas?”

  She shrugged. She hadn’t really thought about it because she was not going to celebrate Christmas. “Nothing, really. Peace on Earth, good will toward men, I suppose.”

  He rolled his eyes. “What? You don’t want…” He looked around and pulled the first thing he could find off the shelf. It was a pair of yellow rubber gloves. “These?”

  “Pass,” she said.

  He pointed to a toilet brush.

  “No, thanks,” she said.

  “You seem sensible, Ava. You don’t strike me as a diamond necklace, trip-around-the world type of woman.” He was now rubbing his jaw line, appraising her. “Am I right?”

  Once again, those eyes were on her, and it was almost too much. She shrugged and quickly changed the conversation back to him.

  “What do you want for Christmas?” she asked him, but the second it was out and his eyes crinkled and cast downward, she regretted asking. Gradually, he’d been coming out of his sour mood, but that question spoiled it. She knew exactly what he wanted.

  Instead, he broke his gaze from hers and started to walk again. He’d only taken three steps before he stopped again and pointed at a toilet bowl. “That.”

  She laughed, glad she hadn’t totally demolished his mood, and vowed to do her best to keep his mind off Olivia’s troubles, if only for a little while. “I can see that under a tree. With a giant red bow on it. It would complement the room very well.”

  He nodded, searching down the aisle. “Scratch that. I want multicolor Christmas lights. Where the hell are they?”

  Ava gave him a wave. “Relax. We’ll find them.”

  They pushed their way through a few more aisles and finally he turned back to her in defeat.

  “This place is too big. We should’ve brought the car.” He sighed and then the corners of his mouth curled up as he imagined himself driving his car through the store. And the smiled turned into a chortle.

  She gave him a sideways glance and said, “What is that about?”

  “What?”

  “Smiling,” she said, unable to stop smiling herself. “You hate Christmas.”

  He laughed out loud now and shook his head. “I’m going delirious.”

  “Oh! That guy works here,” she said, pointing. “Maybe he has GPS and can guide us to the right aisle. Let’s get him!”

  Ava broke into a run and he ran after her, wondering if she was going to tackle the man to the ground.

  Standing in the checkout line, Aleksander wondered how something so simple as a mundane shopping trip could be so much fun. He glanced over at her standing beside him, patiently waiting to move forward. Chalk it up to the company.

  When he piled the fifty-seven strings of multicolor lights—they’d bought every set left in the place—into the back of the Mercedes, he spotted an outdoor coffee spot on the other side of the street.

  “Come on,” he told her as he slammed the trunk. “Let’s get something to drink.”

  She thought he’d want to get back to the house before Olivia woke up, so she was surprised that he’d suggest it. Surprised—and also delighted.

  Sure, the trip had started out rocky, but she’d quickly started having fun, once he let his guard down and relaxed. She found herself wanting to spend more time with him.

  They got two hot chocolates and sat on a ledge outside, overlooking a blazing fire.

  “Now this is what I call a winter drink,” she said, blowing on the hot chocolate with little marshmallows floating on top. “I love cocoa.”

  When she looked up, she realized he was gazin
g intently at her.

  “May I ask you something?”

  She froze. Whenever anyone prefaced a question with a question like that, she knew it had to be something serious. She looked at him with a half-smile. “You may ask; I might not answer.”

  “How come you have no boyfriend?”

  Not expecting that question, she pondered over it for a long while as she took a slow, tentative sip of her cocoa. “I don’t fling myself into relationships just for the sake of being in one,” she said, in a bitter-sweet tone. “I’m saving myself for the right one.”

  “What do you mean? Is there a right one? A soul-mate?” he asked with cynicism, and then mused, with some amusement, “Don’t tell me that you’re a virgin.”

  “No,” she chuckled, peering over the rim of her cup at him. “But medical school doesn’t allow for too much free time, if any. Grey’s Anatomy is probably giving you all the wrong ideas.”

  With growing incredulity, and strangely shocked by the thought, he persisted, “Have you been with anyone since you started medical school?”

  “I’d rather not talk about this,” Ava whispered, focusing on putting the cup on the saucer. “Honestly, I don’t know how we got into this conversation…I’ve never spoken to anyone about this.”

  But there was something about this man. A part of her responded to him and her responses seemed to be totally beyond her control. It was as if he had reached inside of her and tugged at something strong and hitherto unknown, some secret side of her as yet untapped.

  “Your secret’s safe with me.” He had wondered about her, about the feel of her body. Now those meandering and passing thoughts took on a sharp intensity that surprised him.

  She could smell his incredulity beneath the silence that ensued. Her shoulders lifted and fell. “You must think me a…weirdo.”

  “A weirdo? No. It’s just…it’s a little hard to get my head around it.” Aleksander thought differently as his eyes roamed to hers. Even dressed as she was, in that relentlessly stern outfit, she still had curves and a figure that a man could want. And something about her face was softly feminine, with those wide, blue-green eyes and long lashes and a mouth that promised satisfaction. “It’s just…so unusual…and…quite desperately arousing.”