Forevermore

by Cristiane Serruya

  “She knew what she was talking about,” said Lydia, surreptitiously drying her misty eyes.

  Olivia glanced at her grandmother and asked, “Should we exchange the colorful ones for white?”

  Ava smiled when Lydia shook her head vehemently.

  “No way, honey,” answered Lydia. “Now it seems like colorful snowflakes. It is magical.”

  “Ah, okay then.” Olivia came back to the sofa and sat, pulling Toddy over her lap and hugging him.

  Aleksander glanced at Ava. They had already noticed that Olivia reached for Toddy or for Pinkie, her stuffed rabbit, whenever she was tired or nervous or in need of comfort.

  But they were not prepared for his daughter’s question.

  “Daddy, do you think when I die, I will get to see Mommy?”

  Not if, but when. Aleksander’s brain froze but somehow he said, “Pumpkin, when you, Toddy, and I leave here, we’ll be going to where your mother is. Families reunite in Heaven.”

  “But what if you marry Ava before I die?”

  Before the stunned Ava and Aleksander could say anything, Meredith broke into sobs and rushed to Olivia.

  “Nobody is going to die,” Meredith proclaimed, sobbing and hugging her granddaughter. “You will be cured soon. I prayed for it, so don’t you talk about dying. The cancer will be gone!”

  Lydia was out of her chair and beside them in a second. “Meredith. Calm down.”

  Aghast, Ava looked at Aleksander, pleading with her eyes for him to intervene.

  “Mother,” he said, pulling her away from an uncertain Olivia. “Come here for a minute.”

  He led her to the library, closing the double doors with such force they slammed against each other, while Ava and Lydia stayed behind with Olivia, trying to distract the girl from the emotional outburst.

  After a few moments, they both appeared, his mother frowning and sniffing but refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

  “I will take a walk,” she announced, as she marched to the hall.

  Ava stood and walked over to Aleksander, willing him to say something. But instead, he stood there, hands in pockets, staring hard at the door closing after his mother.

  “Well?” she prompted him.

  He looked up at her. “Well, what?”

  “Please tell me you gave that woman a piece of your mind,” Ava blurted, then realized she was overstepping her bounds. I’m only Olivia’s doctor while that woman is family.

  He gave her a surprised look. Her eyes, he noted, turned a particularly glowing green when she was angry. And she was really angry right now. “It sounds like this upsets you more than me.”

  “Looks like it does. I know it’s not my place to say such things, but I’m only thinking of Olivia’s health, as her doctor. Why aren’t you angry?” she demanded. “Why aren’t you seriously pissed?”

  He shrugged. “I was at first. But I’ve spent plenty of time being pissed. It didn’t make any difference. My mother is too set in her ways and she’s not going to change, no matter how many times I ask her to.”

  “But having a tearful, hysterical and in denial grandmother around won’t help Olivia’s health. In fact, it could do the opposite.”

  When they looked up, Meredith was back.

  “Far too cold out there,” she said.

  Her eyes were red and her perfect make up blurred and Ava felt a pang of guilt. The older woman was losing a dear child and even though her behavior was not appropriate, it was human.

  “It appears my love for my granddaughter isn’t wanted.” Meredith moved closer and put a hand over her son’s chest. “But I hope you will understand I only want the best for her.”

  “Mother.” Aleksander put his hand over his mother’s and let out a suffering sigh. “Sometimes what we want is immaterial. I hope you can understand that.”

  Ava did understand. She had felt it deep inside her heart. Once upon a time there were many people—not including the one who mattered most at the time, Otto—who had wanted only the best for her little Emma. It was all of their hopes and advices which had nearly driven Ava insane. It had ripped her soul apart; it had almost gotten her killed.

  “I assure you, Mrs. Maximilian, we’ve been doing all we can to help Olivia,” Ava said gently. “But this time isn’t about that. It’s about choosing how you want to live before you die and—”

  “How can her own doctor talk about her just dying instead of how to save her?” Meredith balked, her pale face turning ever paler. “You may have given up on her, but I won’t.”

  “Palliative care isn’t about giving up, Mother,” Aleksander intervened. “And Ava is doing her best, I am sure.”

  “My goal is to help Olivia and her loved ones through this time with comfort, peace, and dignity,” Ava said. “It can be a time of growth and closeness and lots of love, not only with her father, but with you. But you have to keep your emotions in check and control yourself, for Olivia’s sake.”

  Meredith had joined her husband in their bedroom, Ava coached Olivia in taking a nap, and the house was full of the smells of roast turkey and stuffing, as Matthias’s plans for dinner wafted from the kitchen, when finally Lydia clamped a hand over her son-in-law’s arm. With all the commotion, it had been hard to get a moment alone with him. “I want a minute with you.”

  “I figured,” he muttered and motioned for her to join him in the library.

  “How are you doing?” She smiled warmly, concern etched in her features as she followed him and closed the doors behind her.

  “I’m fine. Everything’s fine—”

  “Just stop.” Unlike his more soft-spoken, though vapid and undiplomatic mother, Lydia was a straight-ahead, flinty, and opinionated woman who had faced all the hardships life had thrown in her face with a pragmatism—and a courage—that astonished Aleksander. Which could be why she now served as chief of staff of the psychiatric ward at New York Methodist. “We’re all being very careful to talk about anything but what happened, what’s happening, and how you’re dealing with it. And that’s fine, but now it’s you and me. Face-to-face, no e-mail or text message, which you can carefully compose and edit. What’s going on with you, Alek?”

  “I’m taking walks on the trails. I’m eating regular meals because Matthias keeps making them.”

  “And the doctor? She’s beautiful.”

  Gorgeous. “She’s…interesting.”

  “Interesting?” Teetering between grief and amusement, Lydia sat on the arm of a wide leather chair. In an unsteady voice, she said, “Among other things, you mean. It may sound strange to you, considering I am Rachel’s mother, but I’m glad to see that you are moving on, Alek.”

  It was an appalling sentiment but one he would expect from her. “Lydia. I—”

  “I have eyes, Alek,” she interrupted him before he could deny it. “Heck, my boy. Any one can see the sparks flying when you two are together. Even if both of you are doing your best not to acknowledge them. And, again, that might sound cold to you coming from me, but, in my opinion, being capable of having a new sexual interest feels healthy. Just what you should be doing right now.”

  “Christ, Lydia.” He hacked a hand through his hair. “Shouldn’t I be feeling guilt?”

  “Of what? Rachel has been gone for more than a year and you are dedicating all your life to Olivia. Aleksander, you have put your life on hold and isolated yourself here because she asked that of you,” she said it softly but he could hear the line of sadness about what had happened and what was bound to happen in her voice. “You need to know that life will go on afterwards. Your life will go on. And you shouldn’t be leading it in utter misery.”

  “I know,” he mumbled half-heartedly. He didn’t want to be having this discussion with the mother of his dead wife but then he had never quite seen Lydia as a mother-in-law but more as an aunt. From the love and sincerity on her face, he knew he could tell her anything. Maybe even about his feelings for Ava. He cleared his throat. “I—” am falling for her. “I
think of her—Ava—as first and foremost, Olivia’s doctor. That’s it, I try to. But if we had met under any other circumstances…at some other time, I’d be determined to make her mine.”

  “You’re coming back,” Lydia said and sniffled.

  “More like, coming apart. How can I possibly be feeling something like this for a woman, at a time like this?”

  “Oh, Alek.”

  He snapped his eyes to see that she had tears in hers. “Don’t. Christ, Lydia. I’m all right. Whatever happens, I’ll be alright.”

  “Will you?” She sniffed back the tears, bent and hugged him. “I lost one daughter, my boy. I don’t want to lose you. Do whatever you need to do. And you can count on me for backing you up.”

  “Honestly?” he asked when she straightened.

  She nodded. “You know you can.”

  Then I have something to ask. He rose and paced to the window, looked out to the forest for a moment, before walking back to where she was. “It’s been wonderful having you all here…”

  She tilted her head back to study his face. “I sense a but.”

  “I know Mother does mean well, but with all the prejudice and pain she carries inside herself, she is too much for Olivia to take right now. For me to take, quite truthfully.” He dug his hands into his pockets sheepishly. “I know you haven’t had much time with Olivia, and I wish I could give you more, but I don’t have…” He trailed off. He couldn’t get the words out. I don’t have that to give.

  “Say no more.” She stood up, patting his arm softly. “Have the plane ready. I will make sure we are on it as soon as Graham wakes up from his nap.”

  “Thank you.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Hopefully, we will all be better for Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “I will make a note to bring some Klonopin.”

  At his curious stare, she winked at him and with a mischievous smile, explained, “If Meredith doesn’t behave, she will find herself sleeping the whole weekend.”

  Chapter 24

  Ava made herself scarce for the rest of the day.

  After Olivia went to sleep, she used the hours to catch up on her research, because she was still not convinced there wasn’t a possibility of a cure for Olivia, even though theoretically there wasn’t.

  But in reading up more of Olivia’s medical history, she discovered that a young German surgeon, Dr. Walter Goldenstein, had provided a glimmer of hope to Olivia’s situation, nearly six months before but Dr. Follett had vetoed the risky procedure.

  She found the surgeon online, read all his published papers and interviews, and watched the few videos available on YouTube. Now she stared at his clinic telephone number and email address on the screen. Should I call him?

  The procedure he’d wanted to do was new and very risky, considering Dr. Goldenstein’s own statistics, even more so in Olivia’s case due to the place where her tumor was lodged.

  On a whim, she wrote a long detailed email explaining Olivia’s actual situation and attaching her last exams, asking if the doctor would be willing to take a chance on operating on the girl now.

  She changed to go downstairs because she wouldn’t miss dinner with Olivia—even if that meant facing Aleksander’s mother again.

  She had just descended to the last step when Aleksander appeared out of nowhere in front of her.

  She hedged to the right, intending to skirt around him, but his hands took her waist, and to balance herself she put her hands on his chest.

  Exercising every atom of willpower, she neither jerked nor struggled but lifted her eyes calmly to his.

  It wasn’t easy; not with his broad chest so close to hers, not looking at the muscular column of his neck, the sexy shade of dark stubble. And the dark, thick chestnut hair, curling on his neck, which she had wanted to kiss so many times before. His skin was tanned and warm and firm, and his body whipcord lean and hard, all muscle, everything she was trying not to look at.

  His thumbs moved in a lazy arch at her hipbones. She could feel the warmth of them through the thin wool of her dress.

  With her entire being she wished he would not hold her. Then, perversely, she wished he would hold her closer.

  Her heart began to hammer in her ears and she struggled not to weaken as her lips grew warm under the kiss of his eyes.

  Aleksander ran a hand down the length of her long, thick braid that rested over her shoulder and chest. Slowly, his eyes drifted back to hers and he let his hand fall, stepping back.

  “My parents and Lydia have gone back to Manhattan,” he said.

  She blinked, surprised. She’d thought with the amount of luggage they’d brought, they were in for at least the holidays. “Oh?”

  “I wanted Olivia to have a nice time with her family during these holidays. But it was clear when they arrived that it wasn’t going to work.” He raised his palms up in defeat. “I told them, as gently as possible, that I was afraid their presence might do more harm than good and that I would be waiting for them on Thanksgiving.”

  “I just get the feeling that I’ve said too much,” she confessed with her usual directness. “And if I’ve been too…too honest with you and your parents…then I’m sorry.”

  “Would you stop with that word? I’ve got to tell you, I’m really hating it.” Aleksander swept aside her apology. “Besides, what makes you think that I don’t like your honesty?”

  “I didn’t mean that,” she said, wishing she didn’t sound as flustered as a high-school girl with a crush on the football star. “I meant—”

  “You know…” he said with a small chuckle. “You take ownership of every single situation you’re in. Do you realize that?”

  “Yeah, I get it. I’m bossy. Check.” This time there was heat as well as warmth in his gaze, and she turned away again. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful…”

  “Enough!” He held up one autocratic hand and looked at her with frowning impatience. “There’s no need for you to trip over yourself apologizing.”

  “Alright.” She was totally flustered now, but she struggled with herself, focused.

  Abruptly, he backed up to let her pass, saying, “We’d best go. Dinner will be served in a moment.”

  Deciding she was not meant to decipher his changing moods, Ava stepped by him and crossed the room.

  If she spent enough time meditating later, she could keep her thoughts from dwelling on Aleksander Maximilian.

  Maybe.

  Dinner was a quick affair since Olivia was tired out by all the day’s activities and thankfully Sydney kept them laughing as she told Olivia anecdotes about her younger siblings.

  Ava checked in on Olivia once more before returning to her room and changing into her Yoga clothes, then pulled her computer onto her lap.

  The familiar chime played as she dialed her grandmother and waited for her to answer.

  “Good morning, Mormor,” Ava greeted when her grandmother answered.

  “Good morning, dear. I was wondering when you would check in next.” She and Eirik sat at the table eating breakfast and Eirik waved in greeting.

  Ava smiled and waved back. “Hello, Morfar. I meant to check in early this morning, but I…was busy. And having nine hours between us doesn’t help.”

  “Busy with that Mr. Maximilian?” her grandmother teased.

  “No!” Ava laughed. “Busy taking care of his daughter. My patient.”

  “And how is the poor girl doing?” Eirik asked between bites. “Is she getting any better?”

  “We never expected her to get better,” Ava said with a sigh. “The purpose of the trip was simply to make her more comfortable.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Eirik said, understanding. “Oh! I recalled that the Maximilian I employed back in the day was called Graham.”

  “Yeah, his father might have worked for you, yes,” Ava said, grateful for the change in topic, but wishing she wasn’t talking about the man who probably looked like a sleeping god only a few rooms away from her. “Turns out his elder bro
ther is from Trondheim and Alek was born in Oslo. His father worked there for some time, too.”

  “So it is the same Maximilian then,” Hildegard said.

  Eirik nodded in agreement and said, “I figured as much. He was a good man and a very hard worker.”

  “Oh, but his wife,” Hildegard said. “She was his complete opposite. That woman flaunted her wealth like a peacock flaunts his feathers. Such a spoiled girl she was.”

  “And still is,” Ava said.

  Hildegard raised a brow. “So you’ve met her then?”

  “Yes,” Ava said. “Alek’s parents and mother-in-law stopped by the house unexpectedly. His father and mother-in-law were rather pleasant, but Meredith…” Ava leaned closer to her screen and whispered, “she was a nightmare.”

  “Do they know you two are an item?”

  “We are not an item, Mormor,” Ava said.

  “Oh. Don’t tell me you’ve been living in the household of an irresistibly attractive man you are sexually interested in and nothing’s happened.”

  Ava’s cheeks flushed a bright pink. “We kissed. Once. That’s all.”

  “And how was it?”

  “Good,” Ava said. “Better than good. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

  “That’s promising. Besides, that confirms the suspicions I had about Otto. That horrible man couldn’t have been any good at sex either,” Hildegard said with a grimace. “When do you plan to bed him?”

  Ava’s face glowed red, but her words came out surprisingly calm. “I have no intentions of bedding him.”

  “Why on earth not? Don’t you want him?”

  I want him more than I should. “Of course I want him. I hate how much I want him, but I can’t have relations with patients.”

  “But he isn’t your patient. His daughter is,” Hildegard said.

  “It’s more complicated than that. The rules of ethics still forbid it and I can’t risk my career for him.”

  “Love is always worth the risk, dear,” Hildegard said. “If you want him, take him. Doesn’t sound so complicated to me.”