“That would be great,” Carole said quickly, as Stevie nodded her approval.
“I have a young neurosurgeon who has a sister in Los Angeles, and he's dying to make the trip to spend the holidays with her. I'll let him know. He'll be thrilled.”
“Me too,” Stevie said with relief. She'd been panicking about the responsibility of being alone with Carole on the flight, in case anything went wrong when they were in the air. It was an eleven-hour flight, a long time to worry about her, and have no medical advice or support after all she'd been through. They had talked about chartering a plane, but Carole wanted to go commercial. Chartering seemed an unnecessary expense to her, and she was ambulatory after all, just frail. She wanted to go back as she had come, on Air France, with Stevie next to her, and now the young doctor with the sister in L.A. Stevie felt infinitely better now about the trip. She could even sleep, with a doctor close at hand, a neurosurgeon yet.
“I think everything's in order then,” the doctor said, smiling again. “I'll let you know how the tests look later on. I think you can start packing up soon. You'll be drinking champagne at the Ritz in no time.” She was teasing, they knew, as Carole had already been told she shouldn't drink alcohol for a while. She seldom drank anyway, so she didn't care.
She got out of bed and showered after the doctor left. Stevie helped her wash her hair, and this time Carole took a long look in the mirror at the scar on her cheek.
“Not too pretty, I must say,” she said, frowning at it.
“It looks like a dueling scar,” Stevie said blithely. “I'll bet you can cover it with makeup.”
“Maybe. Maybe it's my badge of honor. At least my mind's not completely shot,” Carole said, walking away from the mirror with a shrug, drying her hair with a towel. She mentioned to Stevie again that it was a little scary leaving the hospital. It was like leaving the womb. She was glad she was taking a nurse back to the hotel.
She called Chloe in London after her hair was dry, and told her she'd be back at the hotel soon, and on her way to Los Angeles by Christmas. She assumed, as they all did, that her scans would be fine, or at least no worse than they'd been before. There was nothing to suggest otherwise.
“I was wondering if you'd like to come out a few days early,” Carole offered her daughter, “before the others. Maybe the day after I get home myself. You can help me get ready for Christmas. We can do a little shopping together. I don't think I bought anything before I left L.A. I was thinking it might be a nice time for us to spend together, and maybe we can plan to take a trip together in the spring, someplace you'd really like to go.” Carole had thought about it for days, and liked the idea herself.
“Just us?” Chloe sounded stunned.
“Just us.” Carole smiled as she held the phone, and met Stevie's eyes, who gave her a thumbs-up. “I think we have some mother-daughter time to make up for. I'm game if you are.”
“Wow, Mom … I never thought you'd do that.” Chloe sounded awed.
“I'd love it. It would be a treat for me, if you can take the time.” She remembered what Matthieu had said, about how needy and demanding she'd been as a child. But even if she had been, if that was what she needed, why not give it to her? Everyone's needs were different, and perhaps Chloe's were greater than most, for whatever reason, whether her mother's fault or not. Carole had the time. Why not use it to bring happiness to her daughter? Wasn't that what mothers were for? Just because Anthony was more independent and self-sufficient, it didn't make Chloe's needs wrong. Just different. And Carole wanted to spend time with him too. She wanted to share the gift that had been given to her, her life. They were her children after all, even if adults with their own lives. Whatever they needed from her now, she wanted to try to give them, in honor not only of the past, but the present, and future. One day they would have lives and families of their own. Now was the time for her to spend special moments with them, before it was too late. It was the eleventh hour for her, and she was just squeaking in under the wire. “Why don't you think about where you'd like to go? Maybe this spring. Any where in the world.” It was an amazing offer, and as always, Stevie was impressed by her employer and friend. She always came through, for all of them. She was an extraordinary woman, and a pleasure to know and love.
“What about Tahiti?” Chloe said in a single breath. “I can take my vacation in March.”
“Sounds great to me. I don't think I've ever been there. At least I don't think so. And if I have, I don't remember it, so it'll be new to me.” They both laughed at what she said. “We'll figure it out. Any way, I'm hoping to get back to L.A. on the twenty-first. Maybe you want to arrive on the twenty-second. The others aren't coming till Christmas Eve. It's not a lot of time, but it's a start. I'll be in Paris till then.” But she knew Chloe had to catch up on her work at British Vogue, and even work weekends, to make up for the time she'd been away, so Carole didn't expect to see her till just before Christmas in L.A. She wasn't well enough yet to fly over to London to see her. She wanted to take it easy until her flight back to L.A., a trip that would be something of a challenge. Less so now with a neurosurgeon traveling with them.
“I'll come on the twenty-second, Mom. And thank you,” Chloe said. Carole could tell it was heartfelt. If nothing else, Chloe appreciated the effort her mother was making. Maybe she always had made the effort, Carole told herself, and maybe her daughter had never noticed it before, or been old enough to understand it and be grateful. They were both making an effort now, and aware enough to be kind to each other. That alone was an enormous gift, for both of them.
“I'll let you know when I'm back at the hotel. Tomorrow or the day after. I'll call you,” Carole said calmly.
“Thanks, Mom,” Chloe said in a loving tone, and they both hung up after saying that they loved each other.
Carole's next call was to Anthony in New York. He was at the office and sounded busy, but he was pleased to hear her. She told him about going back to the hotel, and how much she was looking forward to seeing him at Christmas. He sounded in good spirits, although he warned her about befriending Matthieu again. It was a recurring theme in every call.
“I just don't trust him, Mom. People don't change. I remember how miserable he made you before. All I remember about our last days in Paris was you crying all the time. I don't even remember what it was about. I just know how sad you were. I don't want that to happen to you again. You've been through enough hard times. I'd rather see you back with Dad.” It was the first time he had said that to her, and it startled her. She didn't want to disappoint him, any more than she wanted to hurt Jason, but she was not going back to him.
“That isn't going to happen,” she said calmly. “I think we're better as friends.”
“Well, Matthieu is no friend,” her son growled at her. “He was a real bastard to you when you lived with him. He was married, wasn't he?” His recollections were fuzzy now, only the negative impression had remained, and it was extreme. He would have done anything to protect his mother from that grief again. Even the memory of it hurt him now. She deserved so much better than that, from any man.