Forevermore

by Cristiane Serruya

  A soft chuckle escaped Sydney, and he couldn’t help but also smile himself. “Okay then, tell me three since I’m so boring.”

  Olivia turned around and leaned over her seat to look at Sydney, who was sitting beside her. “Which three should I tell him?”

  Sydney looked at the journal pages in earnest and pointed. “How about this one, this one and...this one?”

  “Okay,” Olivia said, sitting back down in her seat. “I’m going to read the first one. Are you ready, Daddy?”

  “I’m ready, Pumpkin. Tell me.”

  “Number four: I’m happy that Ava could finally meet Daddy.”

  At that, Aleksander’s brows rose, but he quelled the surprise and smiled.

  “And why does that make you so happy?” Sydney asked, with a devious grin in place.

  “Because a beautiful woman like Ava would make Daddy happy.”

  Aleksander blinked, stunned, and not wanting to delve into the reasons why Olivia thought Ava would make him happy, he asked, “What else?”

  “Number twelve is, I’m happy that I’m so awake! So far I’ve only needed one nap.”

  “That means you’ll have lots of time to enjoy The Cottage,” Sydney added.

  “And what’s the last one?” Aleksander asked, with a smile.

  “I’m glad I get one last Christmas with everyone.”

  It was only with supreme effort that Aleksander kept his smile in place and continued chatting with her, as a raw ache initiated a tantrum inside his heart, kicking, punching, screaming: It’s not fair. Do something.

  He recited Head, Heart in his mind—a litany—trying to soothe the pain.

  Yet unbidden, his head turned in Ava’s direction.

  And his heart—maybe hopelessly—whispered again: Do something.

  Chapter 9

  Nevada, Lake Tahoe

  The Cottage

  * * *

  Ava inhaled deeply as the car climbed higher into the mountains, her ears popping as they rolled past darkness and more darkness. Eventually, the darkness gave way to sparse streetlights. Ava could glimpse an iron security gate, tucked among artistically arranged evergreen shrubs and elegant trees.

  All at once, the giant oaks and pine trees parted, giving way not to a cottage but to a sprawling estate, ablaze with light. Craning her neck to get a better look as they came to a stop at a cobbled U-shape driveway, she saw the lake beyond, a thin line of silver turquoise sparkling in the moonlight.

  But the house. Enormous but not unwelcoming, it stood almost precariously on a ledge overlooking the lake down below, with siding of river stone and wood, all craftsman angles, electric torches at the entrance emitting a homey glow. In fact, warm lights burned gold behind each of the many windows, making it look like a party was going on inside.

  When the car came to a stop, Aleksander helped Olivia out, and the driver opened the door to Ava. A man, who seemed to have materialized out of thin air, raced out to get the bags and Aleksander stopped to talk with him for a minute, motioning with his hand for Ava and Sydney to go inside.

  At first Ava had merely gawked at the house surrounded by the tall pines like a sentry guarding the descent to the lake, though she shivered inside the lamb coat she had bought for the trip. Even more impressive than the magnificence of architecture and landscaping which took rustic style to new heights was the quietude.

  And Ava loved the quiet. Other than the chirps of insects and a lonely coo of an owl somewhere in the trees, there was nothing. She could very nearly hear her own heartbeat.

  Even the sky overhead was subtly different than the one she had become accustomed to while living in Manhattan—she could actually see stars—and it reminded her of her childhood home.

  And it helped to turn her mind from the sad purpose of her stay.

  With a smile, she climbed up the steps to what would be her home for the next two months.

  Once Ava stepped inside, The Cottage looked even less like what she’d imagined.

  Fresh flowers stood on an antique Hepplewhite round table at the entrance hall, and beyond that, in a sunken living room which lead to a huge patio, Ava could see the enormous full moon through a massive wall of windows. There, a fire crackled in a giant, stone, floor-to-ceiling fireplace. Ava realized that her mouth was hanging open and quickly clamped it shut as Aleksander strode in behind her carrying Olivia in his arms.

  They were greeted by a butler with doubtlessly more pomp and circumstance than the Queen of England had ever received. Reed thin and tall, the man almost bowed to Aleksander. “Welcome home, sir, Miss Olivia.”

  “Thank you, Matthias, it’s good to be here,” Aleksander responded in a less formal way and smiled at the man who had been taking care of everything to do with the house for as long as he could remember. “I trust all the preparations for our stay are in order?”

  Matthias nodded. “Oh yes, sir. Everything is just as you instructed.”

  Aleksander exchanged a few quick words with Matthias in hushed voices, and then he turned to Ava and Sydney.

  “Welcome to The Cottage,” he said, drawing them further into the house. “Please make yourself at home, and if you need anything, just let Matthias know.”

  They walked across the foyer, their shoes clicking on the wide-planked wooden floor, passed through an arched doorway into the two-story living room, and Ava felt the warmth from the fire chasing away the iciness that had crept into her cheeks. The massive, open space was made impossibly cozy by small touches—rustic wood furniture, buffalo plaid blankets, and an entire wall of family photographs. Ava spied Olivia’s smiling face—in various stages of growing up—in most of them.

  Sydney circled the room in a state of quiet awe.

  The best of contemporary art hung on the walls, pillows sat fluffed and welcoming on each of the two groups of sofas and armchairs, and the wide planked chestnut floor gleamed like a mirror where it peeked from under one enormous jute carpet with two antique rugs on top which created two separate, more intimate seating areas.

  Finally, she settled into a large leather armchair and ran her finger over a spotless wooden end-table, inspected it for dust, and said with a smirk, “I am not used to working in such horrible conditions.”

  Olivia plopped down on one of the sofas, hugging a pillow to her chest as Toddy came to rest at her feet. “Do you like it? Do you?”

  Ava smiled and cooed to the little girl, “It’s beautiful, Pixie.”

  But what was most beautiful was how much Olivia liked it. This place clearly agreed with her. Already, there was a light back in her eyes, a flush on her cheeks, and more energy in her movements.

  “I can’t wait to show you my bedroom. And the pier on the lake where I do my writing. And then there’s the sledding hill—”

  “Wait a minute, now,” Ava laughed, holding up a hand. The little girl was getting ahead of herself. Yes, this place had put new life into Olivia, but Ava sincerely doubted that sledding would be on the schedule.

  Aleksander looked amused, with a tinge of worry. “Right, Pumpkin. We just got here. Give us some time to get settled.”

  Olivia nodded like a puppy dog, still excited, as the front door opened and a squall blew in Matthias and some of the other servants, with their luggage.

  Olivia sat up. “Come on, I’ll lead the way!”

  By twos, with Olivia and Aleksander at the lead, they climbed up an enormous wooden staircase. When they reached the second floor, Ava’s boots clicked over wood, then muffled over thick carpet. The hallway was arched and lit by an antique elk-horn adorned chandelier, the walls on either side featured more selected contemporary paintings, some by important painters which Ava could recognize from museums.

  Olivia stopped at the first door and looked expectantly at her father. When he flipped on the light and nodded at her, Olivia turned to them and gushed, “This is it! Do you like it?” even before Ava and Sydney had a chance to peer inside.

  It was a beautiful room, but clearly a room for
a kid. It had a playful, 1960s Italian feeling to it, decorated in dark-green with orange accents and stripes, with two sets of bunk beds.

  “I get top bunk,” Sydney quipped, elbowing Ava.

  Before Ava could say anything, Aleksander held up his hands. “No, this is all yours, Sydney.” He strode inside, opened a door, and flipped on a light, motioning for them to see. “It connects to Olivia’s. I thought it would be important to have connecting rooms.”

  Olivia scampered through the open connecting door and proudly showcased her room, all white lace and eyelet. There was a whole wall hand-painted with a scene of Frozen, with Anna, Elsa, and Olaf as the center characters. Sydney walked in, remarking how pretty it all was, and Ava was about to step inside when Aleksander motioned for her to follow him.

  She followed him across the hall, feeling a chill skittering over her spine. It was the first time she’d been alone with him since the night they met and she was acutely aware of the beating of her heart, remembering the way his mouth had felt on hers. She squelched the feeling, reminding herself that they were going to be under the same roof for the next couple of months. She needed to get used to it.

  He flipped on a light to a room across the corridor; a huge, but homey room with a quilt-covered king-size bed, night table, and small chest of drawers. “This is your suite. So you’ll be close in case Olivia needs you.” He motioned to a door across the way. “You have a walk-in closet and your own bathroom.”

  “Thank you,” she said, pacing across the thick rug. The French windows, which led to a large veranda, framed a dark line of majestic trees, and beyond that, the sky with all its glittering stars. “It’s lovely.”

  “It is. Too lovely,” he said, admiring her standing there before such a beautiful nightscape. The stars glittering above her made such a perfect picture it was almost cruel. If not for life’s cruel curse, this moment could be magical.

  She turned her head and thought he was gazing at her, but then she saw his eyes were fixed and he was somewhere else.

  “Aleksander?”

  He roused himself. “Sorry. Lost my head in the stars for a moment.”

  She smiled and, pointing at the large mahogany desk on the other side of the room, asked, “Okay to use the desk?”

  “Yes, please do. All of the drawers have been emptied. Make yourself at home. I’ll go unpack myself and talk to you later.” He walked to the door, still drawn by the lure of fantasy of how things could be. If only.

  “Thank you, Alek,” she said to his departing back.

  He stopped in the doorway and turned. “Thank you, Ava. This means everything to me.”

  Ava opened the suitcase on her bed and started to fill the drawers with her clothes. As she did, she spied a framed photograph atop a shelf. It was of a much younger, tuxedoed Aleksander with a pretty young woman in a white veil. His late wife. Rachel.

  She approached the dresser and picked up the frame. In the photo, they were staring at each other as if they were the only two souls on earth, as if they were looking into forever.

  But forever isn’t always possible.

  With a sigh, she put the photo back in its place.

  She’d always believed in forever until it slipped right through her fingers. She was in love with Otto as only the young can be: carelessly, heedlessly, innocently. Stupidly.

  “Wow. Check out the view.” Sydney strode into her room and waved to the snowy lawn below them that ended at the edge of the lake. Framed by the dark outline of pine trees, and ice crystals a few feet below the lake sparkling under the moon, there was a starry black sky, featuring a million pin-points of pure white light. “It looks like a postcard.”

  Ava shook off her thoughts of Otto and smiled. “Can you imagine living here?”

  “Christ, no. Too far from town.” Sydney flopped on her bed and wrinkled her nose. “This house is like 200 years old. I bet it’s a bear to keep up.”

  “I love being out in the countryside,” Ava answered. “Fresh air. Not so many people.”

  “Such a people person, Ava,” Sydney teased. Then she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Although, if you had the right someone to spend it with, it could be a very nice place to be snowed in.”

  Ava blinked, and her thoughts strayed to Aleksander, though she’d been trying so hard to keep them off of him. “Are you thinking of anyone in particular?”

  “Well,” Sydney said, at if it was obvious, gazing at the photo on the dresser. “He is single. And he looks like a movie star. Plus he loves his daughter. He’s the total package.”

  “We’re here to work. That would be highly inappropriate,” Ava said at first, but then, to test the waters, added, “Don’t you think?”

  Sydney cocked her head and looked at Ava for a moment before saying, “I suppose. But he is such a good man. He deserves to find happiness.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Ava heaved a sigh.

  Why did she have to recover desire now, when so much was on the line? Inconvenient does not begin to describe this timing.

  7:15 p.m.

  * * *

  Olivia’d barely begun to eat her carrots and roast venison when she got tired. Bone tired. Excruciatingly tired. But knowing she needed food to keep up her strength, even if she just threw it up later, like she sometimes did, she tried to keep eating.

  When her chin was just nearly resting on the plate, Aleksander gently nudged her elbow. “Pumpkin. Just take a few more bites.”

  Dinnertime for Olivia was strictly enforced at the hospital. In order to keep her strength up, it was important to have regular mealtimes, even though often, the little girl wasn’t hungry or was too tired to eat. Dr. Follett had recommended that they stick to the same mealtime regimen here, if only to keep a sense of normalcy in her life. So there they sat, the four of them, close together in a C, around the head of a long light maple wood, polished to an almost painful gloss dining table, which could have seated four times as many people, while a Picasso watched them from the wall.

  She’d had a long, exciting day, and now all of the energy she’d summoned earlier had left her. “I’m really not hungry, Dad.”

  Christ, she’s so painfully thin, wasting away before my own eyes. Aleksander sighed. Knowing that her time was so limited, not only did he want to keep her insulated from everything bad, he felt himself wanting to heap upon her everything that was good, as if that would bring about a miracle.

  Olivia slumped down further into the pad of the dining room chair, her tiny frame nearly lost inside it. She may have just wanted to slide down under the table and go to sleep, but he could tell she was fighting the good fight for him, persisting to shovel more forkfuls into her tiny mouth to make him happy. It’s damn near heartbreaking.

  He was about to tell her to call it a day when she paused with the fork suspended midway between the plate and her mouth, closed her eyes, and let out a snore.

  He couldn’t help it. He let out a laugh.

  His laugh was open and deeply masculine.

  The sound washed across Ava’s senses, sank into her skin, going deep, so deep that she joined in.

  Olivia started at once, dropping her fork to the plate with a clatter. The bit of venison fell to her lap as she looked around, confused. “What? What—” She looked down at her lap. “Oh. I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  “Don’t be,” Aleksander said, a big smile on his face.

  He pushed back his chair, just as a smiling Sydney leapt to his aid, intending to take care of the mess, but Toddy beat her to it and wolfed down the meat and licked the sauce with gusto.

  “Don’t force her,” Ava said, putting down her fork and standing, too. “After the day she’s had, liquid protein and sleep is the best thing for her now.”

  He nodded. “Okay, Pumpkin, off to dreamland for you.” As he pulled the little girl into his arms, he looked over at Ava. “Cancer is a pain in the ass.”

  Olivia nodded sleepily, her eyes already closed. “I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.”
>
  Ava smiled. “Good night, Pixie. Sote drommer. Sweet dreams.”

  Chapter 10

  8:00 p.m.

  * * *

  The little girl was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

  Aleksander changed Olivia into pajamas and thought about waking her to brush her teeth, but he didn’t have the heart. A little tooth decay is nothing compared to the battle being raged inside her. One that day by day, she’s losing.

  Times like this, he wanted to crawl into her bed, cuddle up to her and hold her tight with the promise of never letting go, but Olivia was sleeping so peacefully without him, he just sat in the armchair by her bed and picked up her little hand in his. It was so cold, so fragile, like an angel’s. It was then that he noticed that by her headboard there was a small pillow with an angel embroidered on it, which he had never seen before.

  He sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head on the tall back of the armchair.

  “Are you okay, Mr. Maximilian?”

  “Hmm?” He opened his eyes and saw Sydney had entered the room and was watching him. “Oh, yes, yes, I am. I was just wool-gathering.”

  She smiled and adjusted Olivia’s coverlet. “I’ll be in my room, if you need something.”

  “Sydney.”

  The nurse stopped short of opening the connecting door to her assigned room. “Yes?”

  “Do you believe in God?” Aleksander was not religious and hadn’t given the issue much thought before now. When the priest spoke at Rachel’s funeral service, the words drifted right over him. But now he found himself wondering about mortality and what was on the other side. He was surprised by wanting to confess that he was worried about having no spiritual resources to shore himself up against the inevitable future grief of losing Olivia. He wanted something good for Olivia...after. She deserved it.

  “Yes, sir. I’m a practicing Catholic.”