Viktor
The morning after I’d delivered Addie to the Barneses, I didn’t expect to see Cymbeline. For one thing, at least twelve inches of snow had fallen overnight. In addition, I assumed she would be too worried about Addie to want to leave the house. However, she arrived around eight but without the pink glow of excitement that typically graced her cheeks. She’d come on skis instead of by car.
I was outside clearing a pathway to my cottage when she arrived. The snowplow had not yet come through. Typically they didn’t get to me until midmorning. Being Saturday, I didn’t have to worry about getting into work. Setting aside my shovel by my front porch steps, I trudged though the snow to greet her. “I didn’t expect you,” I said.
“I couldn’t stay in the house this morning. I needed to see you.”
My stomach clenched, fearing the worst. “How’s Addie?”
“The same. Which means, not good.” She hugged her middle as if she were cold. “Thank you for bringing her home to us yesterday.”
“Of course. I’m only sorry she’s unwell.”
“Viktor,” she said in a small voice. “I’m terrified we may lose her. It’s something with her stomach. Theo says she’s starving to death. There’s nothing I can do. That’s the worst part of it. I want to do something. I’d take it all on myself if I could.”
“We can’t give up hope.” I took both her hands. “Let’s get you out of those skis and inside to get warm.”
She nodded, then reached down to unbuckle the skis from her boots. Once she was out of the skis, I flung them over my shoulder. “What did you do? Leave at the first morning light?”
“Yes. The minute it was light enough to see, I headed out.”
“Does your family know you came here?”
“They know. No one could sleep, worried about Addie. I fell asleep at some point and woke this morning terrified. But Addie was sleeping peacefully. Mama hadn’t left her side, so Papa made her go to bed. It’s all a mess.” She gestured toward our training area under the trees. “Can we take a break today? My heart’s not in it.”
“One day of rest won’t hurt you.” I drew her into my arms and rested my chin on the top of her head. “It’s cold out here when we’re not moving.”
“I guess not.”
“Come inside.” I took her by the hand, leading her into my cottage. I’d anticipated giving her a happy surprise this morning. My furniture had finally arrived yesterday. Delivered before the snow began to fall that morning, I’d imagined her delight at seeing the pretty pieces I’d picked out for my home. Last night, restless and anxious about Addie, I’d spent the entire evening arranging them in different locations around the room, settling finally on setting them around the fireplace.
She took off her jacket and handed it to me, then walked farther into the front room.
“Oh, Viktor, it looks nice. You didn’t say they’d come.” She went to the back of the sofa and ran her hand along the velvety material. I’d ordered it in dark blue from a fine shop in Denver. They’d taken months to finish. I’d been excited to show her, but now it seemed unimportant.
“They came yesterday morning, but now it doesn’t seem as wonderful as I’d thought it would,” I said.
“I know what you mean,” she said. “Nothing seems as important as it did yesterday at this time.”
I put a few more logs on the fire. “Sit, anyway. I’ll pour you a cup of coffee. I’ve just made some.”
“Thank you. Hot coffee sounds good.”
A few minutes later, I returned with coffee and a few scones I’d picked up at Isak’s bakery before the snow fell. I set the tray down on the new table and handed her a cup. “Scone?”
“No, thank you. Just coffee for now,” she said.
I joined her on the couch. The cushions were so new that it seemed as though I was sitting on a large ball.
We sipped our coffee, and I ate a scone that seemed dry in my mouth. For once, I was at a loss as to what to say. Seeing her upset had quite undone me. Finally, I thought to ask if Theo had diagnosed Addie with anything specific. “Did your brother have any ideas?”
“No, he doesn’t know what’s wrong with her,” Cymbeline said. “He’s always known everything. All our lives, even when we were little, if we didn’t know the answer to a question, we’d turn to Theo. He could always find the answer. I don’t know what to think. The whole world has tipped on its side and nothing makes sense.” She went on to describe Adelaide’s symptoms—weight loss, listlessness, thinning hair. All of which I’d seen for myself, but she seemed to need to talk through it all with me. If it had been under different circumstances, I would have been delighted.
“Her stomach, Viktor. It’s like this.” She stretched her hands in the air across her midsection to indicate a roundness to her belly. “Theo said that’s an indication of severe malnourishment. She says that when she eats, her stomach cramps. The other girls at school have been so cruel to her. They’ve said terrible things.” Cym’s fists clenched in her lap. “I want to kill them.”
I almost smiled. Violence and aggression over despair were Cymbeline’s natural tendencies. “Theo and Dr. Neal are a great team. They’ll figure out what’s wrong and come up with a treatment.”
She looked over at me. “Do you really think so?” The desperation in her eyes—this desire for me to be right—made my chest feel as if it were hollowed out by a rough blade. “What if it’s cancer?”
Cancer. For which there was no cure. “Did Theo think so?”
“No. He didn’t say so, but I lie awake all night thinking about it. There’s cancer of the stomach, you know. What if that’s it?”
“Theo would have suggested it,” I said. Please, God, don’t let it be that. Not sweet Addie.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She rounded her shoulders and bent over to put her hands over her knees. “I’m frightened, Viktor. And suddenly, all this nonsense about the competition seems just that—selfish, self-centered drivel. I’m the silliest person in the world.”
“You’re passionate about sports. There’s nothing silly about that.”
“For the first time in my life, I’m wondering why I haven’t focused on education instead of all this stupid obsession with being outside. Should I go to college? Maybe I would learn something that would actually help other people. Instead, I stayed here thinking only of myself.”
I thought for a second about what to say. Although for some, finding their true purpose wasn’t as obvious as others. However, I knew deep down we all had one. Each of us possessed a particular gift bestowed upon us by God. Our work was to find that talent and use it for good. Cymbeline’s contributions would not come from scholarly pursuits. She was an athlete. A competitor. Being true to her dreams and aspirations would encourage other young women to do the same. It was only people like Cymbeline, who had the courage to try what hadn’t yet been done, even at the expense of their personal lives, who moved society forward. I inched closer to her, catching one of her curls with my finger. “Cym, pursuing what you’re passionate about will have positive repercussions on others—in ways you’ll never fully understand. You’re a brave warrior and an inspiration to anyone who has been told they’re not allowed to use the gifts God gave them.”
She tilted her head in my direction. I put my arm around her slumped shoulders and pulled her close. “How come you’re so wise?”
“I’m not, really,” I said. “You’ve made me a better person.”
“How could I make anyone better?” She brushed her fingertips against my knee, then rested her cheek against my shoulder.
“By being unapologetically you and never acquiescing to how the world wants to mold you.”
She sniffed and wiped under her eyes with the heel of her hand. “You’re full of so many words today. All the right ones.”