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“I’ll do what I can,” I tell her. “And you do the same with Vivian.”
Ellis nods. “I’ll see what I can find.”
Chapter 23 ~ Recent Findings
Ellis
My Aunt Vivian’s room is on the first floor of the west wing, just down the hall from my grandfather’s. I told her I just wanted to make sure she’s fine and she let me in. She even ordered some pastries and tea for us – well, a non-alcoholic eggnog for me because I’m cutting down on caffeine now that I might be pregnant, a fact that I’m trying not to think about but one which has been lingering at the back of my head.
It’s a beautiful room. The wallpaper is pale yellow with blue flowers – I guess gold and blue is the classic Northup combination. The furniture is gilt in gold, worthy of a palace chamber, and the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, which has a fresco of clouds and flowers, looks like it was once in the Palace of Versailles.
And here I thought her room would be as dreary as her.
“Where’s Rainier?” Vivian asks me as she takes a dainty sip from her cup of tea.
I pop a tiny macaroon inside my mouth and brush the crumbs from my lips. “Oh, he’s keeping tabs on Norman.”
Vivian puts down her cup on its saucer. “How is he?”
“Stable. Recovering.”
“Really?” She gives a faint smile. “Norman is one lucky man, isn’t he? I mean, he fell down the stairs and he was stabbed with an antler, and yet he survived. I thought he was a goner when I saw him lying there.”
“For a moment, so did I,” I admit. “I’m glad Rainier and I were able to save him.”
“I guess we’re lucky we have surgeons in the house.” She puts her hand over mine. “The two of you did a marvelous job.”
“We only did our job,” I tell her.
It just so happens our job really is marvelous.
Then again, it was Rainier who did most of the job. I just helped. And I must say I was impressed with him. He wasn’t in an OR. He didn’t have his usual tools or his numerous assistants. He’s not even a general surgeon. I’m sure it’s been a while since he’s operated on anything other than a brain. Yet he was able to take out the antler from Norman’s shoulder cleanly and dress his wound perfectly. In spite of all the circumstances, everything went smoothly. No mistakes. He never, for one moment, panicked, whereas I was a wreck in the beginning.
I think I’m in love.
“So he’ll pull through?” Vivian asks.
“Yes,” I answer.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“He’ll recover perfectly? He’ll have all his memories, talk like he used to, walk like he used to?”
I smile. “Yes. I’m confident he will recover perfectly.”
Vivian squeezes my hand. “You and your fiance really are miracle workers. God bless you.”
I shrug. “Like I said, it is the season of miracles.”
She lifts her cup of tea. “I’ll drink to that.”
I take a sip from my glass of eggnog as well.
Well, Vivian truly seems relieved and grateful that Norman is fine. If she was the one who pushed him – if indeed Norman was pushed – I doubt she would be. Still, I have to ask a few more questions.
I set down my glass on the coaster. “You’ve known Norman all your life, haven’t you?”
“Yes. He’s just a few years older than I am.”
“Would you say he’s part of the family?” I ask.
“Yes, though I always thought of him like a brother or a cousin. I never thought he’d be my son-in-law.”
My eyes grow wide. She knows about Christine and Norman?
“Yes, dear, I’ve known for a while now,” Vivian answers my unspoken question. “A mother always knows.”
My eyebrows furrow. “So you don’t mind?”
“Of course I do! Like I said, Norman is like a brother to me, an older brother. I feel as much betrayed by him as I feel disappointed in my daughter.”
So she is disappointed.
“You’re looking at me like you don’t understand,” Vivian says. “I don’t blame you. Until you’re a mother, you won’t understand how hard it is to raise a child. You won’t know the anxiety of constantly wondering if your child is going to be alright, if you’re doing what’s best for him or her because it feels like you can always do better. You won’t know the pain of seeing your child struggle or the helplessness you feel from wanting to help him or her but not being able to.”
I glance down at my stomach. No. I don’t know how hard it is to raise a child, and after hearing what Vivian just said, I’m more sure I’m not ready.
“As a mother, you’re constantly torn between what’s best for your children and what makes them happy. You want to give them another cookie to see another precious smile but you can’t because it may give them a toothache. You want to let them jump on puddles and run in the rain but you can’t because you don’t want them to get sick. You want to buy them everything but you don’t want to spoil them.”
