He opened his wallet and handed me a card. “Mor was worried when we were there for dinner last weekend.” He rubbed his forehead, the sunshine glinting off his blond locks. “Was it just last weekend that we were there? It feels like forever ago. Anyway, she gave me that card. Dr. Newsome is one of their friends, and he has a neurology practice in Duluth. He said he’d see you as soon as you call for an appointment. Mor will drive you since I know you probably don’t want me to.”
I had to hide my smile at the way he called his mother, Birgitte, the Danish word for mom. His parents had moved to the United States from Denmark right after they were married, so though Mathias was born and raised here, his first language had been Danish, and he still spoke with the accent of a true Dane. I accepted the card and read the name. It was a doctor I’d heard of before. He was top-notch and likely twice as expensive as everyone else. I tapped it on my leg. “This was super nice of her, but I can’t afford this guy. He’s one of the most sought-after neurologists in our area. You know my insurance is limited for specialists.”
“His fee has already been paid. If you need any testing, we’ll worry about that at the time.”
I sighed heavily and with resignation. “Mathias, I can’t. I can’t accept your family’s help anymore, monetary or otherwise.” I dug into my pocket, pulled out the keys to the Nissan, and lowered them gently to his lap. “I can’t keep driving your car either. I can’t do any of this anymore.”
He picked up the keys and held them. “The car isn’t mine. It’s yours. Butterfly Junction bought that car for you, not me.” He handed me the keys back, and I took them from his hand, unsure if it was true. “Second of all, you’re going to break Mor’s heart by refusing her help? She’s loved you for twenty years, and now you’re going to cut her off?”
I stood and purposefully strode through the trees toward my car.
What am I even doing here?
I picked up speed as I hurried through the rotten leaves of last fall. I could feel a headache coming on, and I groaned. Not today, please. I bit the inside of my lip to stop the tears from falling while I shook my head with frustration. Mathias was right. I did need to see a doctor, but I was not going to let the Jørgensen family pay for it. The only way to do that was to cut ties with the one Jørgensen I thought would always be by my side.
CHAPTER 3
Mathias grabbed my arm and pulled me to a complete halt before I made it halfway through the orchard. “Honeybee, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Please, don’t run away.”
“Why are you such a jerk lately?” I whisper-asked, my legs wanting to give out in the afternoon sunshine.
“I don’t know,” he answered with his head hung. When he glanced up and into my eyes, his were the piercing blue of a summer afternoon. “That’s a lie. I do know why.” He ran his hand down my cheek and grasped my chin in his perfectly manicured fingers. “Are you okay?”
I rubbed my temple, which was a sure sign I wasn’t. “I need my migraine medication before it’s too late.”
He put his arm around my waist and carried me to the parking lot, where he unlocked my car and sat me in the passenger seat. I found my emergency stash in my purse and swallowed one with the water he handed me. “You’re getting more headaches lately. Is it stress or something else?”
I wanted to yell that it was him, but I couldn’t because the truth was that they were getting worse and it probably wasn’t him. “I don’t know, Mathias. I wish I did, though. I’ve done everything the family doctor told me to. I was able to keep them at bay since I saw him six months ago, but lately, not so much.”
He squatted beside me, his butt almost touching the gravel before he took my hand and gazed up into my eyes. “It’s not a stretch to believe they’re tied to the worsening of your hand. Please, consider seeing the doctor? Regardless of how you feel about me, you love Mor. I know you don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
I shook my head back and forth on the headrest. He was right. I would never hurt Birgitte no matter how much I wanted to hurt him. “Fine, I’ll see the doctor. I’ll call Birgitte later and thank her.”
He squeezed my hand tighter for a moment and offered me a smile. “You’ll make Mor’s day,” he assured me, his eyes leaving mine to stare somewhere over the top of the car.
I sat up and grabbed my keys. “Let’s go for a walk down by the lake,” I suggested. “It will clear my head.”
He stood and stepped back, allowing me to get out of the car and lock it. I didn’t want to go for a walk. I didn’t want to be nice to him, but I’d known him long enough to know something was wrong, and he didn’t know how to talk about it.
We strolled down the gravel path to a worn, rutted passage in the grass. I happened to know at the end of it was a little beach with driftwood to sit on and a view unlike any other. If there was one place to sit and talk about life issues, that was the place. He helped me down the grass berm onto the sand, and we found a piece of driftwood near the shoreline. It was far enough back we wouldn’t get wet, but close enough we could still hear the whispers of the Lady of the Lake. We lowered our butts to the wood, and I tossed a few rocks into the water, the ripples stretching out for miles across it.
“You wanted to know why I’ve been a jerk lately?” he asked, and I shrugged indifferently. His hand took my shoulder and held it down. “Mor is sick, Honey.”
I spun so quickly I almost fell off the driftwood. “What? She was fine this past weekend. When did this happen? Is she in the hospital?” I jumped up without thinking. “I want to see her right now.”
He stood, straddled the driftwood, and held me in place. “Sit, please. Let me explain.”
Reluctantly, I straddled the wood, too, and lowered my butt until our knees touched. He held my hands in his in a way that said he wanted to comfort me but that he needed the comfort himself more than anything. “She’s not in the hospital, Honey, but she was diagnosed with breast cancer two weeks ago.”
“What?” I asked, my voice choked. “What? No, she would have told me,” I insisted, grasping his hands tightly. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
His smile was sad when he patted my face. “She doesn’t know how to.”
I swallowed hard and made eye contact with him. His eyes always told me what his lips couldn’t, especially when he was hurting. “Is she going to be okay? Did they catch it in time?”
“The doctors think so. They caught it early, and they can’t find that it’s spread anywhere.”
I nodded as though his words were tugging my neck up and down. “Okay, that’s good, right? If it hasn’t spread, then they can treat it.”
