by Gun Brooke
“He loves this. It amazes me. Not that he’s all that high and mighty about many things, but he’s not terribly fond of kids—except at Midsummer and Christmas.” Sylvie handed her a plate covered with strawberry cake. “Here. I bet you’ll enjoy this more than you did the sweet pickled herring.” She bent closer to Aeron’s ear and kissed her earlobe. “I swear, the look on your face…”
Aeron tipped her head back and laughed. “I know. I wasn’t sure what I expected the Swedes to eat at their most beloved holiday after Christmas, but surely not almost-raw fish and sour cream. I did like the chives and new potatoes though.”
“That’s always something. You’ll love this cake. Our cook makes it from scratch.” Sylvie took a bit of her own. “Mmm, smooth. Love it. Just like I loved something else last night. It was even smoother.”
Aeron merely nodded regally, refusing to blush, but then she began to laugh. Waking up in Sylvie’s arms had been the single most fulfilling experience in her life. Aeron grinned and tasted the cake. It was wonderful, definitely a keeper. She resolved to hunt said cook and ask for the recipe. As they sat on their blanket on the lawn of the park, she felt bone tired after their long night of making love instead of getting much-needed sleep.
Earlier in the morning, they’d picked flowers and cut birch tree branches, and Aeron had thoroughly enjoyed it even if her body had screamed for a soft bed. Another highlight had been watching Sylvie mutter over the sap from the trees and the small bugs crawling among some of the flowers. They’d dressed the maypole, which was formed like a cross with two large flower wreaths dangling from it on the other side.
“I see what you mean,” Aeron said now. “Phallic symbol.”
“Yup. But truthfully, people only started to make that comparison during the 1800s. I read somewhere it was due to some Freudian influence. I believe they used to save the wreaths to put into their Christmas bath.”
“Whatever for?” Aeron eyed the wreaths. Surely the old wreaths had to have been smaller? With these you’d need a swimming pool.
“Good health during the winter.”
“Considering people died like flies from the flu and pneumonia back then, who can blame them from jumping into a bath with one of them?” Aeron wrapped her arm around Sylvie’s waist. “Although I prefer to think of jumping into a bath later with someone rather than something.”
“Is that so?” Sylvie’s voice held a low timbre that made Aeron’s knees wobble.
“It sure is. Can I interest you in something that frivolous?”
“I’ll do your back if you’ll do me…mine.” Sylvie chuckled as she leaned over and whispered into Aeron’s ear.
“A Freudian slip?” Aeron giggled.
“Nobody’s slipping anywhere. In fact I—Oh, no.” Sylvie cast a glance over Aeron’s shoulder.
Aeron turned to see what had caught Sylvie’s attention. “What?” She saw Camilla wave at them to join her.
“It’s time for the darn frogs.” Sylvie stood. “Most of the time I refuse to join in the dance, but Mom said it would be a crime if you didn’t get to dance around the maypole at least once. Sorry. I was weak. I promised.”
“I’m perfectly able to run around in a circle with kids. ”
Sylvie chuckled. “Oh, my dear, you have no idea.”
As Aeron watched people line up in several big circles, hands on their hips, she wondered what could be so bad about dancing in a circle.
“Get behind me and do as I do. If you tell anyone back in the US about this, I’ll have to shoot you.” Sylvie gave her a stern glance.
“All right.” Aeron snorted.
The music began, a march-like tune, and the people began to sing and jump forward. Then they stuck their thumbs in their ears, waving their hands, only to move their hands to just above their bottoms and wiggle them there. And then the song lyric turned to something like “coo-ack-ack-ack,” and Aeron was now laughing so hard, she could barely move. She saw the posh Camilla and her intimidating husband do the same dance with children around them. When the song finally ended, Aeron was breathless with laughter and clung to Sylvie for support.
“I knew this would be a mistake. I take it I don’t have to worry about Facebook pictures of my derriere and flopping hands?” Sylvie laughed as well.
“I wish I’d thought of that—”
Loud voices echoed across the field behind the Thorn mansion. Camilla’s shrill voice rose above the rest.
“Daniel? Oh, God, Daniel! Please, help him!”
*
“Mom?” Sylvie began to run, and Aeron was close behind her. Pushing her way through the crowd, Sylvie growled at them to move. Her heart pounded painfully and it was hard to breathe. Her mother’s voice had been so filled with dread. “Mom?”
They reached Camilla, who was on her knees in the grass, holding Daniel close to her. Sylvie threw herself to the ground, bruising her knees but couldn’t care less. “Mom, what happened?”
“He staggered to the side and fell.” A voice from behind them spoke, out of breath. “We kidded with him that he shouldn’t have started on the schnapps so early when we realized…something was wrong.”
“Call 112.” Sylvie ordered, slipping into her CEO persona seamlessly. She regarded Daniel, noting the slackness of the right corner of his mouth, his listless right arm and confused expression. “Tell them it might be a stroke.”
“What?” Camilla’s eyes snapped up to meet Sylvie’s. “Why do you…?” She looked down at her husband of forty-two years. “Oh. Oh, of course. Darling, can you speak. Say something, Daniel?”
“Krr…ng…ng…” Daniel tried to communicate, but only gurgling sounds came out. His hair lay ruffled and he had grass stains everywhere. Sylvie could hardly believe that she’d seen him direct the erecting of the maypole just moments ago. Now it stood there, firmly attached to the special foundation made for it and the tree at Christmas. It towered over the fallen lord of the manor like some dramatic scene in a film.
“Here. Some blankets. I asked one of the staff.” Aeron joined Sylvie, who hadn’t even noticed Aeron’s absence.
“Oh, thank you, dear.” Camilla took one of the blankets and wrapped it around the now-shivering Daniel. Aeron tucked another one around his legs.
“Yes, thank you.” Sylvie squeezed Aeron’s hand quickly. “You think fast.”
“How is he?” Aeron rubbed Sylvie’s back. “The EMTs on their way?”
“Yes. We’re not far from the major fire station in Gårda. Ten minutes, if they step on it and traffic isn’t screwing around.”
“Schy-vi…” Daniel waved his unaffected arm. “Schy—”
“He means you,” Aeron whispered in Sylvie’s ear.
Her mouth dry, Sylvie took Daniel’s flailing hand. “Father? Just relax. The ambulance is on its way. You’ll be at Sahlgrenska before you know it.”
“N-no…Sch…g-guss…” Sweat dripped from every pore on Daniel’s face from the effort of making himself understood. When Sylvie still didn’t understand, he closed his left eye hard. The right eye only closed partially, which gave him a drugged appearance.
Sylvie looked up and found the chief caretaker of the mansion. “Olle? Make sure the guests don’t get in the way when the ambulance arrives. Keep the press by the fence. I saw quite a few of them hovering over there earlier.” She pointed at one of the side gates.
“No problem. I’ll take care of it.”
“What’s going on? Can I help?” Aeron asked, and Sylvie translated, explaining quickly, and Aeron nodded before standing up “These people need to give Daniel room to breathe as well.” She raised her voice, assuming most of the guests understood English. “Listen up. Everyone needs to take ten steps back. Yes, that’s right. Ten steps!” She shooed them backward, not giving anyone a chance to object. “Let’s keep an eye out for the ambulance and make sure it reaches Mr. Thorn quickly. Thank you, everybody.” She made sure everyone did as told before she sat down again.
Camilla looked at
her with tear-filled eyes. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Camilla.” Aeron tried for a comforting smile, but fear for the outcome of Daniel’s potential stroke made her lips tremble.
Time slowed, it seemed, but after a few minutes more, a yellow ambulance rolled across the lawn. The guests pointed in Daniel’s direction. As the ambulance stopped a few yards from him, Sylvie and Aeron stepped aside to let the nurse and paramedic do their job.
It all went very fast from then on. Camilla rode in the ambulance with Daniel. Sylvie enlisted a few cousins to take over the responsibility of the festivities and hurried to change clothes. “You don’t have to come. You’ll miss all of Midsummer.” She glanced at Aeron as she pulled at her jeans. “Honestly.”
“I want to be there. Daniel needs you and Camilla now, and I’m conceited enough to think you need me.” Aeron stepped closer and hugged Sylvie. “Please?”
“You…are you sure?” This wasn’t what Aeron had signed up for when accompanying Sylvie to Sweden. She really couldn’t ask this of her.
“I am. And I’m not about to crowd you. I can be useful. Fetch coffee, check the parking meters, what have you.” Aeron kissed Sylvie quickly. “I’m going to hop into some clean clothes too. You have your car here?”
“Yes. It’s in the garage.” Sylvie buttoned her shirt and pulled on some linen trousers. “You ready?”
Aeron nodded, and they grabbed their purses and hurried out the door. Several people tried to stop Sylvie to ask questions as they exited the front door, but she didn’t even break stride as she headed for the garage that hosted the multitude of cars her father collected as well as her Porsche. She debated letting Aeron drive since she was feeling so agitated, but Aeron wouldn’t know her way around so it would take them longer to reach the hospital.
They entered the garage from a side door, and Sylvie was relieved to see her car sitting right inside. She opened the driver’s door and slid inside, the new-leather look maintained by the garage foreman so familiar. Aeron slid into the passenger seat. As soon as they were buckled up, Sylvie pressed the button on the dashboard and the garage door rose. She slid into first gear, and soon they roared down the road leading to the center of Gothenburg toward the Sahlgrenska University Hospital.
*
Aeron could tell from Sylvie’s expression that it was going to be bad news. Camilla was still in the room where they’d taken Daniel at the stroke unit. Now Sylvie approached her slowly, walking as if she’d injured something vital. Getting up, Aeron hurried toward her. Just as she reached her, Sylvie sagged against the wall, her tears quivering where they clung to her lashes for a moment and then fell.
“Oh, Sylvie. Come and sit down.” Aeron guided her to the area where she’d been sitting. They almost fell down on a couch, Aeron still with her arms around the trembling Sylvie. “Can you tell me?”
“He’s had a stroke, like I thought.” Sylvie sounded hollow but composed. “It affects the left part of his brain, including the speech area. They’re giving him medication. Thrombolytic therapy.”
“I’m so sorry.” Aeron kissed Sylvie’s cheek and pressed her forehead gently against her temple. “How’s Camilla?”
“In shock. In denial.” She shook her head. “Much like I’m feeling, actually.”
“I can imagine that’s normal when someone close to you becomes ill out of nowhere.” Aeron wanted to erase the tension around Sylvie’s eyes. “What can I do to help?”
“I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do, other than the stroke team. Mom is going to stay here at the hospital—she insists. She’s already called the housekeeper to bring her an overnight bag and arrange for meals to be delivered to her. In shock or not, my mother’s efficient.”
“I’ll say.” Aeron laced their fingers together. “So, practicalities are dealt with, I get that. I still think you need someone in your corner for when you feel you need it.”
Sylvie rested her head against Aeron’s. “Thank you. I do need to feel you near me. When I sat with Mom next to Father’s bed, I felt ashamed at how much I wished you were there to hold my hand. I was supposed to support Mom, and I damn near crumbled.”
“Hey. Don’t berate yourself. He’s your dad.”
“That’s just it. He’s my father, not so much my dad. I stopped saying Dad about the time I started school as a child. In my mind he’s Father or Daniel. As I see it, Dad is a word that signifies closeness. We’re not close.”
Aeron didn’t state the obvious. She’d give her right arm to have a father in her life. Or at least know who he was. Captain Aero was a mystery, and now, watching Sylvie’s agony, she wondered if she might be setting herself up for major disappointment if she went ahead with hiring an investigator. “That doesn’t mean you can’t help him and, most of all, your mother. As beautiful as she is, Camilla’s no kid anymore. She’s bound to get tired.”
“I know. She’s awfully tired and pale already. I hope they keep an eye on her here so she doesn’t get ill as well.” Sylvie shuddered. “I have to go in to headquarters. The next-in-command and I need to address the major shareholders. We also need to issue a press release. Mom reminded me I should call the prime minister as soon as possible.” Flinging her arms around Aeron’s neck, she hugged her close. “Will you come with me? I know you’ll be bored out of your mind, as all of this will take place in Swedish, but…”
“You don’t even need to ask.” Aeron hugged Sylvie and ran her hands up and down her back. “You’ll do fine. I saw you slam on your command persona when you issued orders on the lawn. Do that when necessary, and then you can return to me and be yourself.”
“It sounds so tempting.” Sylvie let go of Aeron with a wistful sigh. “I guess I better go back to the house and change clothes—again. You’re fine the way you are, but I need to look the part.”
“Ah. You mean power suit and the whole shebang?”
“Exactly.” Wiping at her damp lashes, Sylvie stood.
Aeron rose as well and took Sylvie’s hand. “Just think of me as your very, very personal assistant,” she said softly. “I’ll help you through this.”
“Thank you, darling. I’m actually quite certain you know how much that means for me to hear.”
“I do, if it’s anywhere near how it feels for me when you listen to me read a passage from Maeve’s diary.”
“I would imagine so, yes.” Sylvie glanced at the door leading in to her father’s room. “I should let Mom know I’m leaving. Want to join me?”
Aeron wondered for a moment if this was yet another attempt to keep up appearances, but she scolded herself for having such insecurities and suspicions. “Sure. Might do Camilla good to know you have someone looking out for you.”
The room was full of machines monitoring Daniel’s condition. Bags containing enigmatic content hung around him in a semicircle. The formidable man looked suddenly his age and then some, where he lay propped up against the pillows, his mouth lopsided, his arm tucked neatly against him.
Camilla sat holding his other hand, her eyes closed and her head slightly tipped back.
“Mom?” Sylvie murmured. “How’s he doing?”
Camilla slowly raised her head and opened her eyes, answering in Swedish. When she spotted Aeron, she automatically switched to English. “He’s asleep, I think. Or at least I hope sleep is all it is.” She drew a deep breath. “Aeron, dear. What a disastrous Midsummer Eve celebration for you.”
“For me? Nothing else matters as long as Daniel recovers.” Aeron let go of Sylvie and rounded the bed. She bent and kissed Camilla’s cheek. “And from what I know about Swedish health care, he’s in the best place right now, given the circumstances.”
“I’m so glad Sylvie’s found someone like you,” Camilla said huskily. “She’s been alone far too long.”
“Mom.” Sylvie shook her head. “Anyway, I’m going to take care of HQ, the prime minister, and the press release.”
“Thank you. I could’ve done it, I suppose, but I don�
��t want to leave him.” Stroking back her husband’s mussed hair, Camilla’s hand trembled.
“Don’t worry about Thorn Industries, Mom. Just take care of Father, and I’ll be back to let you know how it all went later. Aeron’s coming with me as my moral support.”
Camilla smiled faintly toward Aeron. “I knew you’d be a blessing.”
As they walked toward where they parked, Sylvie let go of Aeron’s hand and began tapping away at her phone. Only when they reached the Porsche did she tuck it away. They drove toward the Thorn mansion amid silence, and Aeron knew Sylvie had already slipped back into her professional role.
It was as it had to be. If this was what Sylvie needed to stay strong at the headquarters later, so be it. When they were either back at the hospital or at the mansion afterward, the Sylvie Aeron knew would reappear. At least that’s what Aeron had to believe.
Chapter Twenty-two
Sylvie stood in her father’s office at the Thorn mansion. How many times had he called her in here, having her stand almost at attention at the other side of the desk while informing himself of her test results and grades? While Camilla was always thrilled for Sylvie to pass the subjects that required reading, Daniel wasn’t as understanding. He considered dyslexia little more than a character flaw for a Thorn.
Now Sylvie unlocked the drawers with the key her mother had given her.
“You’re the Thorn in command right now,” Camilla had said before Sylvie left the hospital for the second time that day. She’d returned to report to her parents about the measures she’d taken and what protocols she’d put in place to help the staff handle the crisis. As it turned out, her father was still asleep and Camilla looked completely drained. She told her mother the most important details, received the keys, kissed Camilla’s cheek, and then returned to Aeron.
