Chapter 60
“The entire west coast is being blanketed in the year’s worst storm to date, folks, through to the prairies. All you Valentine’s Day lovers out there, stay warm. Stay home, and cuddle. For the rest of you, stay home too. Keep safe, everyone.”
The weather forecast played on the screen over the reception desk, as it hit almost 3 AM. Keara stood there, with a sleepy Oscar practically holding her up.
This time, he didn’t have too much to say.
The kids were sleeping. The seniors, for the most part, were as well. The odd one shuffled quietly, in their complementary, white terrycloth robe courtesy of Snowy Peaks through the great lobby, to go to the bathroom. Some hobbled around to stretch their old bones, went and stood by the front windows, looking out into the indigo sky, full of eddying, wild pellets.
She’d come out from the back area for a mental health break. Stood with her friend at the front window. She murmured, her voice shaky. “Where is he, Oscar?”
“He is with the mountain, Cherie. Keara. We must trust the mountain to give him back to us.”
It was an obscene thought, but it was true. It was all out of their hands.
“You know he loves you.” His grip tightened on her, almost as if he was trying to force the blood through her, to pump it single-handedly. To keep it flowing through her veins.
She didn’t have any filters. Damn it, she was exhausted, and her thesis too, was still calling. Her strength was waning.
“Do I? He never told me that.” He avoided telling me that. “He’s a good man. He would’ve done it for any person he thought was worthy.”
Oscar’s brows almost disappeared under the attractive swathe of dark hair that fell over his forehead. “You really think that?”
“It’s true.”
And again—totally out of character—for once Oscar did not try to convince her, nor try to paint a visual picture of how much Sven loved her. But instead, he just said softly, “He will tell you himself.” The words dropped, simple and straight. He would tell her?
She planted a light kiss on the Frenchman’s cheek. The young Frenchman that half the guests were crazy for. The one who loved them all back, from that big heart, but no one yet, not in that special way.
There was a story there. Maybe one day, Oscar would tell her. She would ask. Because, she realized, she loved him like a brother. “Thank you.”
He went all emotional. “I must… I must…”
He looked helplessly toward the kitchen, as if there was a savior there. Possibly, a receptacle for emotions he did not, apparently, want to share, suddenly.
That made her chuckle deep inside. The man was all about sharing every single thought or feeling he had all day long. This, though, somehow, was different.
“Why don’t you go check on tomorrow’s bread? Or croissants? Or that stew you told me you were making to feed everyone tomorrow, to stretch the meat?”
“Oh, Cherie!” He exclaimed as he slapped the palm of his hand to his forehead. “Stupide me! Alors! I must do this right away. You are right! How do I forget these things? It is important! It is food, it is life…”
He quickly planted one on her cheek. “You will be fine for a few minutes?”
“I will. Take your time, but come back to me. I need you, my brother.”
Energy seemed to fill him, and he seemed to grow taller. More expansive. “I will be back…how you say…in ten. Maybe twenty.”
And he was off to check the food, the bread, and mainly, to collect his thoughts and emotions.
She was alone again. Back to the reality of waiting for the man she loved. Wondering where he was. Desperately wanting him to make it, no matter what. Remembering her last words to him hadn’t even been about him.
She palmed her cell phone dully, entered her password, got the notification there was a text for her. Probably Ofc. Jacobs, with a few words of encouragement. Maybe Ilona. They’d been texting back and forth, with many words of encouragement from her dear friend. Possibly Effie.
But when she opened the app, her eyes widened, and the breath stalled in her lungs as she read the message from Golden, Sv. Sent only a few minutes ago, from somewhere high up in the raging storm.
It read simply: I love you.