I spend as much time at the hospital as they'll let me. Flowers, cards and visitors come and go, and I ignore most of them. Tex comes again and stays for a while, making my mother have a coughing fit several times. I end up glaring at her so she'll stop being funny. Dad mentions something about Peter spending time with his own family, but he says that they understand. What he doesn't say is that I am his family. He tells me that later.
At night I rage against the unfairness and shittiness of my life. He lets me scream and beat him, and after a while I get tired enough and pass out. It's probably not a healthy way of dealing with my grief, but it's the only thing I can do right now.
Mom gets steadily worse until she gasps with every breath, even with the oxygen tube in her nose. They've tried three different antibiotics, but her body just isn't strong enough.
On Thursday, while Dad is getting coffee, she gives Peter a long look and he gets up, saying that he's going to give us a moment. I hold onto his hand, but he pulls away, giving it a kiss before he does.
I know what this means.
“Ava-Claire.”
I look at her and I feel sick. I've thrown up I don't know how many times in the past few days.
“Mommy,” I say. I haven't called her that in years, but it comes out.
“Baby, I don't want you to be scared. I said I would tell you when it was time. It's time.” She gasps after every word, so it takes her a while to get them out.
“Mommy, you can't. Not yet.” I get up and climb into bed with her, shaking with the effort of holding myself together. Any moment I'm going to fly into a million pieces.
“I fought. Not everyone wins, but I don't want to talk about that. I want you to know that I will always be with you. I may not be here, but I am always with you. You are my daughter, whether we're in this life or the next. I have to believe that whoever created us wouldn't be cruel enough to separate us.” She has to rest before she goes on.
“Daddy and I have talked a lot about this, and I want you to know that he's taking care of things. You don't need to worry about things you don't need to worry about. I want you to be young, even though you're dealing with something no young person should. You are my strong girl, you will pull through and your life will be wonderful. I gave Daddy a box of things for you. He doesn't know what's in it, but I want you to have it. They are things that are just for you. Okay?” I can't say anything, so I just nod once. I feel like I'm not in my body, but that I'm floating above us, just a spirit, watching.
“Everything I want you to know is in that box. When you need to hear my voice or know that I love you, open the box. I've also left you grandma’s jewelry and some other little things. I started putting money away for your college when you were born. There's an account in your name, and the money will be yours when you turn 18. Aj has all the paperwork for that.”
I think I hear Dad in the hallway, but then the footsteps fade. Mom closes her eyes, as if she's pulling out every reserve of energy she has.
“Be careful with your heart. I know you've given it to Peter, and I know you are tied to him, but I just want you to make sure that is what you want. If you love him and he makes you happier than you ever thought you could be, then I give my blessing to be with him. If he ever makes you sad, or upset or hurts you, he isn't the boy for you. If you decide to spend your life, or more than that with him, that is also your choice. I will support anything you do. Even if that means you become an immortal.”
That makes me sit up and look at her.
“I know. I thought a lot about it, and I'm not going to stand in the way of getting what you want. If you want to spend eternity with Peter, you can. I don't want you to live with regrets, or worry about what I would have thought. I want you to do what makes you unbelievably happy, even if it's that. It’s going to be dark for a while, but your dawn will come, and it’s going to be glorious.”
She has another coughing fit and I hand her a glass of water. She's only able to take a little sip, and it spills onto her chin. I wipe her mouth and she lies back, closing her eyes again.
“So many people don't get to say good-bye. I've been thinking about this ever since I was diagnosed. I wrote this speech a million times. I decided I wasn't going to get it right.” I sense that's the end of what she wants to say. She hugs me close, her frail body trembling.
“I love you, ma fleur. If I hadn't had you, I wouldn't have had much to live for. You are my life, and you will go on after I am gone. My Ava-Claire.”
“I love you, Mommy.” I hug her for what seems like hours, and only a few seconds because Dad is back, with a nurse right behind him.
They want to move her to a hospice, but she refuses.
“I just want to go home.”
Peter
Claire passes away the following morning in her bed with Ava, Sam and Aj standing by her bedside. I am outside under the window. There is a moment of absolute peace when I hear her breathing cease. There is a moment of pure bright silence that rings like a bell.
“I love you,” Ava and Sam say, kissing her forehead.
Ava walks out of the house and down the road without saying a word to her father. He crumples to the floor and Aj comforts him. Hot grief hits me like lightning, and I nearly stumble. Ava starts to run down the road, and I follow her.
“Just kill me, Peter. Just kill me. I can't do it.” She turns to face me, and her grief consumes me. I am breaking, but it can't be anything to what she is facing.
“You have to live for her. Even when it hurts so much you think you can't stand it.”
“I don't want to. It's too much.”
“You can handle it. You are my strong girl. You've faced down immortals. You can face this.” She just keeps shaking her head. “I am never going to leave you. Never.”
“You don't know that. Helena was supposed to find Di, but she hasn't come back. She doesn't have any incentive to help us. She probably ran off. There's nothing we can do. There's a chance that if you change me and make a bind, that it could break the bind with Di. I know that no one has told us that it would work, but I don't trust them. Everyone has something to hide, a reason to lie. Even if it doesn't break the bind, I would be invincible. She would have no way of hurting me. I could fight her. I could fight for us. And Viktor wouldn't be able to exact his revenge. It would give us time. So much time.”
“I will change you, but not now. Not today. Today is for Claire.”
I think she's going to protest, but she makes a strangled sound.
“Today is for her,” Ava says.