Winning the Lottery - 27. Chapter 27 - Forgiveness

My mother and Lord Hunterscroft were staying at the Dolder, another very nice Zurich hotel. Our security guys escorted us up to their floor and then discretely withdrew a few paces down the hall. I took a deep breath and knocked on their door. Derrick’s hand on the small of my back was giving me comfort.

The door was opened by a slim, elegant—obviously wealthy—woman whom I didn’t recognize. With a quick glance I took in her perfectly coiffed, silver-blond hair, tasteful makeup, the double strand of pearls at her neck, a tailored, belted cream-colored suit, light pink manicured nails and elegant matching pumps. We’d clearly knocked on the wrong door.

I started to stammer an apology.

The stranger’s lips curled into a smile. “Gabriel?” she said.

“Mother?....”

I was so stunned that I stood there with my mouth agape. This was definitely not the mousy woman I remembered. Nobody moved for a few uncomfortable beats.

“Come in, come in,” she said, breaking the tension.

We entered the suite and Derrick stood at my side, his hand still on my back. I felt the pressure of his touch increase and that brought me out of my stupor.

Mother had stepped back a couple of paces, gesturing to enter into the suite’s sitting room. Not quite sure what I was feeling at that moment—at least it wasn’t anger—I was relieved that she didn’t gush some sort of sentimental nonsense. I was particularly grateful that she didn’t initiate a hug.

“Mother, this is my husband, Derrick. Derrick, this is my mother Claudia Nichol.”

“And soon to be Claudia Grey,” said the man approaching in a cultured English accent.

“Gabriel, Derrick, allow me to present my fiancé, Alistair Grey, Lord Hunterscroft.

He heartily shook our hands and declared it was a pleasure to meet us.

“And thank you for coming,” he continued. “It means a lot to us. And please call me Alistair.”

The man’s manners were impeccable, I’d give him that.

We returned the courtesies and were ushered into the sitting room.

Fortunately, Lord Hunterscroft—Alistair—had the knack of putting everyone at ease, as did Derrick. We were soon seated, non-alcoholic drinks in hand, making pleasant small talk. The only one of us who looked uneasy was my mother. She was steeling herself to make a statement, and I could guess what the topic was. I knew from my studies that recovering alcoholics, as part of their recovery process—step nine—are encouraged to make amends (not to be confused with apologies) to those who’ve been harmed by their behaviour. For instance, if $20 was borrowed and never paid back, paying the money back would be the ‘amend.’ But in my mother’s case, she simply couldn’t ‘give back’ the hurt she’d caused. I wondered what she’d do.

There was a lull in the conversation; Alistair reached out to take Mother’s hand. “As you boys probably know,” she began, “Part of a recovering alcoholic’s process is to make amends to those we’ve harmed. So, yes, Gabriel, I know I harmed you, very grievously. Alistair, unfortunately, has also harmed his children, more benign neglect, than my purposeful behavior, but nonetheless...

“To this end, Alistair and I are going to support a public service organization that assists homeless youths, particularly gay homeless youths...”

Yeah, right, I thought cynically, Throw a bit of money at the cause and assuage your conscience. Bah!

“...in a hands-on way. We’re already working with a youth homeless shelter in Edinburg, and we both intend to be regular volunteers.”

Warming to the topic, and becoming very animated, my mother continued, “Also, and this is something we’re very excited about, we’re thinking of establishing a youth camp for gay at-risk adolescents. One that will provide opportunities for self-discovery, direction and, hopefully, engender self-confidence. Youths will have an opportunity to try their hand at a number of things: flying, cooking, singing, musical instruments, first aid, sport, horses, writing—whatever the child wishes to try. It’s not intended a one-size-fits-all approach.” She looked at Alistair, turning the discussion to him.

“I’ve got a property in Scotland that would be ideally suited for such a venture. There’s plenty of room, and there’s already a small airstrip.” He paused to let that sink in.

They both looked at us expectantly in the ensuing silence.

Derrick and I are no strangers to philanthropic efforts, and far be it from us to discourage one. And I must admit, my heart was beginning to thaw. On the other hand, I couldn’t figure out why they were almost overdoing the whole ‘amend’ process. So I expressed, diplomatically, exactly those thoughts.

Mother replied, “Of course you are absolutely correct, Gabriel. I should have explained that from the initial idea of volunteering at a shelter grew a more ambitious scheme, one that would give meaning to my life. I need something I can get my teeth into....”

That was a concept I could relate to, given that I was applying my medical skills in a similar manner.

A knock at the door interrupted our conversation. Lunch had arrived.

At the small, square dining table I sat on my mother’s left, with Derrick across from me and Alistair on my left. Alistair adroitly distracted Derrick with questions about the G650. That left Mother and I free to have our own conversation. She said, “Tell me about your boys.” A topic near and dear to me, of course. She paid close attention, genuinely interested in what I had to say. She laughed heartily at my dramatic telling of the roof climbing incident.

She reached over and put her hand on mine. “Oh Gabriel, I’m so happy for you...that everything has worked out so well.

“I’m s-sorry...I failed....” she said, tears leaking from her eyes, her remorse genuine.

I felt tears welling up in my own eyes. “Mom....why? How...?”

Sniffing, she said, “I was weak. Your father was, um, demanding. I turned to Ativan and alcohol to give me strength, and well, you know, that really only made me weaker.”

“You couldn’t fight him,” I stated.

“No. I tried...at first. Then it was just easier, less conflict, to go along with him. Then the drugs and alcohol numbed me. He blamed me...about you. Said I mollycoddled you. Hah! If only!

“When you left to go live with the Foroughis—such good people—I was so relieved; happy that you’d ‘escaped.’ And I left you alone. You didn’t need my emotional baggage dragging you down. And you succeeded brilliantly. Ironic, isn’t it, that my greatest accomplishment as a mother was to stay out of your life and let you go?

“And, here I am, thanks to you, sitting in a swanky hotel in Zurich. Sober. Marrying a wonderful man tomorrow.” She paused and drew in a deep breath which she let out slowly. “Listen to me, I’m getting maudlin, and I swore I wouldn’t....”

“I’m glad he’s dead,” I said.

She snorted a laugh. “So am I. Isn’t that awful?”

“No, not awful. But let’s be grateful that you, James and I have ‘overcome,’ as the gospel song says.”

“Yes, I am grateful, very much so.” She lifted her water glass, got Derrick and Alistair’s attention, and said, “A toast. To a glorious future!”

We all clinked glasses echoing her sentiments.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text from Robert. Time to get back to our hotel. The boys were arriving back from their ski outing in a few minutes.

“Things ended on a good note,” observed Derrick in the car.

“Yes, a very good note,” I replied. “Thanks...for everything....”

“You’re welcome, my love.”

The boys arrived home from their skiing trip, not long after we got back to the hotel, chattering like magpies about how much fun they’d had. It was the first time Alfy had experienced snow—and a snowball fight—and he was thrilled. They both begged to be taken skiing again. “We went soooo fast down the hill! Can we go again? Please!” There wouldn’t be time on this trip, but maybe in the future... Red-cheeked and tired, full from the hamburgers they’d had on the way home, and after a hot bath, they were more than ready for a nap.

They’d just dropped off to sleep when James and Monique arrived. Of course they wanted to see Dane, so their first glimpse of him was as a sleeping angel. They both declared him the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen. Derrick and I agreed, that yes, when he was sleeping, he was an angel.

James had a goofy grin that didn’t seem to leave his face; I suspected he had news, so I told him to spill.

“Well, there are two Doctor Nichols in the family now,” he declared with pride.

“Your thesis was approved!”

“Yes! And my presentation!”

“I’m so proud of him!” declared Monique.

“We’re all proud of him!” I seconded. I’d wondered why Robert had an iced bottle of Champagne awaiting their arrival. There was a knock at the door and a waiter entered with a tray of canapés. Robert had thought of everything.

At dinner that evening, in one of the hotel’s private dining rooms, we met Alistair’s son and daughter and their families. Both were married, with spouses in attendance. One couple had two children and one had three, but it was hard to keep track of who was who with our kids thrown in the mix as well. They all got along—noisily! The get-together was lively.

Mom’s younger sister, Zena, was there as well. I hadn’t seen her since I was a small child and had no real recollection of her. She seemed nice enough, if a little lost in the crowd—she was perhaps shy. Her husband and two boys (my cousins) hadn’t accompanied her. I wondered why and gently probed her on the subject. As it turned out the two boys, both in college, were studying for final exams and her husband couldn’t get time off work. He ran a gardening/lawn care business and spring was his busy season.

I was probably badgering the poor woman, but being a doctor I was used to getting away with asking personal questions. Knowing I was a doctor, she told me that her oldest son wanted to become a doctor, but that competition for medical school was fierce. He’d applied to the University of Manitoba, but even with honor grade marks wasn’t guaranteed entrance. When Derrick joined the conversation she told us the younger son wanted to become a pilot, but....

The ‘but’ spoke volumes. My immediate guess was that this family was going to be financially challenged to provide the education their boys (both, according to their mother, excellent students) aspired to. Well, I’d already asked enough personal questions, I wasn’t about to ask for their annual tax returns as well. But as you know, Derrick and I have our ‘ways’ of finding things out, and I was definitely going to have the family checked out. I wasn’t going to leave them swinging in the wind if we could help. But one thing I knew (from personal experience) was that we just couldn’t disturb their whole social ‘ecosystem’ by simply writing a big check. Most people, after all, had their pride.

That night I had another of my recurring dreams—the ones that usually turn bad with me thinking I’d flunked out of medical school and let everybody down. Well, this time, I was writing an anatomy exam and instead of putting gibberish on the paper I was answering the questions correctly! Then it switched to my graduation ceremony and the Deacons were heartily congratulating me. I woke up, smiling, feeling on top of the world.

I wrapped my arms around Derrick and hugged him tight. “Everything, okay?” he asked.

“Couldn’t be better,” I said feeling that a huge burden had finally be lifted from my soul.

The wedding the next day was a low-key affair. The same private room we’d dined in the evening before had been transformed into a wedding chapel with chairs, and a lovely arbour at the front. There were vases of flowers filling the room, and just walking in one could feel the ‘emotion’ in the well staged setting. The actual ceremony was short and sweet. Aunt Zena stood up with Mother, and Alistair’s son with him. Afterwards there was an informal buffet lunch. Alistair’s son welcomed our mother to his family with a small speech and toast about how happy they were that their dad had found love again. James, being the oldest in our family made a similar toast. And as I raised my glass of sparkling water I caught Mom’s eye and gave her a special smile, which she returned.

The flight home was uneventful. Derrick was mulling over the idea of expanding his airline business and was weighing the pros and cons. I could tell the cons were winning, but Derrick hadn’t quite realized that yet, and I thought I’d let him come to it in his own time. I just hoped his crew wasn’t too disappointed. Derrick would feel terrible about that.

Dane and Alfy talked non-stop about their skiing adventure. We got through the entire flight without an altercation.

Our arrival home went extraordinarily smoothly thanks to Robert. Jordan and Kelly, and the dogs, met us at the airport and there were huge hugs all round. Then, effortlessly, we were driven home where everything—right down to a nutritious snack—awaited our arrival. When we crawled into bed that night it was on to gloriously soft, high thread count, cotton sheets. Robert had somehow arranged all this from Europe.

As Dane settled back to school and Derrick and I got on with our ‘professional’ lives. Robert kept track of everything from running the household to work and social schedules. I hadn’t realized just how stressed and tense Derrick and I had become. We hadn’t really thought about how many details we had to deal with day-to-day. With Robert running things our cares and worries, for the most part dropped away; we hadn’t felt this relaxed in years.

Mom and Dad Deacon were spending less and less time in Hawaii. The last few years had seen them pursuing Buddhism in an academic way. At Orcas Island the emphasis had moved away from hosting ‘retreats’ to hosting ‘conferences’ where Buddhist academics and religious leaders would pour over ancient text and debate vigorously. They were having the time of their lives, but it meant we saw them less and less.

Finally, on one of their rare, brief visits to Hawaii they approached us and gingerly broached the subject of their Hawaiian residency. It was clear they didn’t want to hurt our feelings by telling us they were effectively moving back to Orcas Island, but they wanted us to know that, if we wanted, their little ‘villa’ on our property could be adapted for our use as our personal space, or a guest cottage, or whatever we’d like. The heavy use of conditionals in their spiel was indicative of just how sensitive to our feelings they were, especially since their change of habitat coincided with Dane’s arrival. But our feelings weren’t hurt. Their increasing absences had started long before Dane’s arrival, and we were able to offer them our support and encouragement in their quest.

We decided to use the space as a guest cottage hoping to encourage friends to visit. Robert said he’d handle the project, and after a fairly brief discussion of our needs and wants he had an army of workers on the property updating the cottage. Robert managed to pull off just what we wanted with a sleek, updated look with some Asian highlights honoring the villa’s original Buddhist theme.

Meanwhile, Robert had arranged a series of barbeques and dinner parties for our Hawaiian friends and extended family. It had been an age since we’d gotten together with the Foroughis and we had a delightful, relaxed evening with them. Dane’s school “best friend,” Tyler, and his parents came for an afternoon swim and meal. They were a warm, fun loving family, and we hoped to see more of them.

We’d noticed that the relationship between Alfy and Dane was changing. Their relationship had become less ‘clingy’, and both had developed their own school friends. They were still close, but more in a brotherly way. Jordan, Kelly, Derrick and I all agreed it was a healthy development and testament to the boys’ growing self confidence.

Derrick finally decided, unequivocally, not to expand his aviation business. It was no surprise to me when he said that he never bought the plane as a commercial venture but as a personal hobby. He admitted he hated letting strangers use the plane. Arlyss, his head pilot, who had ‘ambitions,’ was disappointed. She gave notice almost immediately saying that she and her family had decided to move back to the mainland to be closer to family. (We heard later that she was already considering an offer from a major airline with opportunity for swift advancement.)

The other three crew members supported Derrick’s point of view. In fact, they welcomed it, saying that they, too, had never been comfortable working with strangers in the plane. And as it turned out, now that we were settling into a comfortable routine, and had Robert to take a lot of the worry off our shoulders, we were keeping the plane quite busy.

Sam Kozitsky called and asked for a meeting with us about ‘security matters.’ He was working more and more as a consultant to the Deacons and had become the de-facto security liaison with Derrick and me. I suggested he bring his husband, Nick, with him for a getaway in our newly renovated guest quarters. Nick phoned to discuss plans; then I asked about their friends, Jerome and Rob, and suggested that they come also. Sam would come a day early for the security briefing, then the others would join us the next day.

So the jet was dispatched, first to pick up Sam for our meeting... His news wasn’t good. I should explain that with the Deacon’s increasing wealth (the family’s net worth had almost doubled since I had first met Derrick) their security operation had become very sophisticated. It was no longer just military-like men and women shadowing us and escorting us in SUV’s. There were numerous intelligence analysts working behind the scenes evaluating reams of data—the operation was becoming a mini CIA. Between terrorist organizations and organized crime the ‘threat’ to the family had reached alarming proportions. Bottom line was that our security protocols were being updated. Most changes—like the behind-the-scenes analysis—we wouldn’t notice, but our ability to engage in spontaneous activities was more restricted. Our first concern, of course, was for Cass and Dane, but Sam assured us that with the new procedures the increased danger was ‘mitigated.’ We certainly hoped so!

We had no time to dwell on Sam’s news, because we were focussed on our guests’ arrival the next day. And I was further distracted that night by Derrick’s ardor in bed. In fact, he thoroughly distracted me twice. I enthusiastically returned the favor.

I was feeling very mellow the next morning. Euphoric even. That is, until Robert started giving me trouble.

“Go!” I hissed pointing to the street.

“But...”

“No buts! Go! Now!”

“The hors d’oeuvres...”

“Robert, if you told me once, you’ve told me six times. I know how to heat the hors d’oeuvres.”

“The towels....”

“We have a mountain of towels! Enough to last for a month! Quit stalling.”

“The barbeque...”

“Sam’s in charge of the barbeque. He’s an ex navy seal for chrissakes! He can handle grilling a few steaks.”

I saw Robert take a deep breath preparing for another volley. I decided to counterattack.

“Do you have your bathing suit and towel?” I demanded.

“Yes, but...”

“Sunscreen?”

“Yes,” he admitted. He knew better than to sass me about that.

“Condoms and lube?”

“What?... Really, Dr. Nichol, I don’t think it’s going to be that kind of party.”

“Better safe than sorry, Robert. I’ve put a few condoms and some packs of lube in the glove box of the car. Just in case you get lucky.”

Robert was going to spend the day with Winston (our flight attendant) and Jimmy (his partner). There were other friends joining them, including a sort of, maybe, blind date for Robert. The group was having a big Hawaiian style picnic on the beach near Makaha. We were thrilled that Robert was finally getting out to have a bit of fun with friends. Robert on the other hand was reluctant. He just needed a bit of gentle encouragement.

“Go!” I repeated He finally shuffled off to the garage, his whole demeanor telegraphing that he was leaving under duress.

Robert had barely driven off in my Bentley when the SUV motorcade bringing our very animated guests arrived.