“Shall we go down for lunch?” he asks when she finally sets him free. “My housekeeper is off on the weekends, but she left a casserole in the oven we can heat up. I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook.”
“Well,” my mom says, “you’re already perfect. Being a good cook as well would’ve been simply too good to be true. Did I mention that I’m not a bad cook myself?”
She seems to be so much better today, but sadness overcomes me as I know it won’t last. Her illness comes in cruel cycles. Every good day is followed by a day twice as bad.
While Alex heats the food and pours us each a glass of wine, Mom and I set the table. Lunch is an amiable and happy affair, a welcome change from last night’s stiff hostility. It’s obvious how much my mom likes Alex from the way she dishes up seconds on his plate and, after peppering him with questions, comes to the conclusion that he works too hard and needs a break.
Alex lets her serve the dessert and gladly accepts when she offers to make coffee. The kindness of the gesture isn’t lost on me. Letting my mom prepare something puts her at ease in his house, making her feel even more welcome.
When we’re seated at the indoor garden table with our coffee and a silence falls over the conversation, Alex clears his throat.
“Laura, I’d like to run something past you.”
“Yes?” she says, giving him an encouraging smile.
“There’s a new treatment center for rheumatoid arthritis near Deep Creek in North Carolina. The program is still very new, but it’s already showing amazing results.”
“Kate and I know about it,” my mom says. “We looked into it, but it costs tens of thousands of dollars.”
“And the results aren’t guaranteed,” I add.
“No, but it’s worth giving it a shot,” Alex says. “If you agree, I’d like to cover the costs.”
“What?” Mom puts her cup down on the table. “Absolutely not. I’d never be able to pay you back.”
Alex gives her a patient smile. “I don’t mean a loan. Consider it a gift.”
She blinks. “I appreciate the kindness of your offer, but I can’t accept. It’s too much.”
Leaning forward, Alex takes her hand. “No price is too high for one’s health. Besides, you and Kate are my family now—my only family. I’d appreciate it very much if you’d do this for me.”
“Goodness, Alex.” Mom shifts her gaze to me. “I don’t know.”
I’m as shocked as she is. What Alex is suggesting is beyond kindness. The costs my mom will incur will be huge. The treatment is only part of it. There’s also the expense of board and meals in the private onsite clinic, as well as months of physiotherapy afterward. Tears of gratitude prickle behind my eyes. Even more than by his generous offer, I’m touched by his admission that he considers us family.
“It will make me very happy,” Alex says, letting go of my mom’s hand to pick up his cup of coffee. “In fact, I insist.”
Mom’s look turns pleading, quietly asking for my advice. I give a small nod, smiling through my tears. Alex doesn’t say or do things he doesn’t mean. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t really want to give her a shot at a better quality of life.
Blinking back her own tears, my mom says, “If you put it like that…”
Alex’s smile is bright. “It’s settled then. I’ll get my assistant to make the arrangements first thing tomorrow morning.”
The enormity of the gift only sinks in later when my mom says her goodbyes and Alex asks Yuri to bring the car around to drive her home.
“I still can’t believe it,” Mom says as we walk her to the car. “I don’t know how to thank you, Alex.”
“You already have,” he says. “Anyway, no thanks are required. You’ll be doing me a favor. Kate is important to me, and so are you.”
My mom places a hand over her heart. “I’ll be away for a few months, at least two or three.”
“Don’t worry about the apartment, Mom. I’ll take care of it.”
“We will,” Alex says, giving me such a warm smile that my heart melts.
“Wait.” My mom stops in her tracks. “That means I won’t see you for a very long time. Will you come visit me? Both of you?”
Alex gets the door for her. “Of course. We will come down for Christmas. There’s a quaint hotel not far away from the clinic. I’ve already looked into it.”
My mom pats his cheek. “You’re very kind. I’m so happy my daughter has met a man who deserves her.”
“I’m not sure I deserve her,” he says, “but I know how lucky I am.”
I laugh. “Stop it, you two. You’re making me self-conscious.”
“It’s the truth,” he says, dragging a heated gaze over me.