Authors: Jennifer Comeaux
Chris’s phone jangled in his pocket, and he retrieved it. “That’s Mar. I’ll catch up with you later.”
The back of his navy Team USA jacket disappeared into the elevator bank, and I rubbed my temples. Chris might think he was Superman, but what if he messed up his shoulder even more trying to skate at Worlds with the injury? Usually he had no problem backing up his confidence, but he’d never had to deal with this big of a physical handicap.
“You are Emily,” a thick Russian voice said behind me.
I whirled around and found a middle-aged man peering at me. My blank stare prompted him to continue, “I am Sergei’s father.”
Of course! I saw it then in his strong cheekbones and slightly crooked nose. Since Max didn’t like to be photographed, Sergei hadn’t been able to show me any pictures of him.
“I… I didn’t think you were coming so soon. Anna said you couldn’t leave work, that you were very busy at the plant,” I babbled, so caught off guard I didn’t think to speak in Russian.
He probably doesn’t understand a word I’m saying
.
Indeed, his eyes narrowed and he appeared to be concentrating hard. I realized I hadn’t offered a handshake or a kiss or any greeting, but the time for that seemed to have passed.
“Sergei and his mother here?” He scanned the lobby with his piercing green eyes.
“Restaurant,” I said in Russian and pointed to the large arched doorway.
Now I’m using sign language, too.
Max picked up his suitcase, which matched Anna’s, and walked toward the dining room. My legs took a moment to move, but I soon trailed after Max’s tall figure. He had the same posture and long stride as Sergei.
Max found the table where my parents, Anna, and Sergei were seated, and Sergei shot to his feet. “Papa.”
My parents and Anna rose also with matching looks of surprise. Anna asked Max a question in Russian that I vaguely understood as, “You were able to leave work?”
I couldn’t decipher Max’s mumbled reply, but he still wasn’t smiling. His stern face didn’t look like one that easily smiled. Anna swept her fingers through her long graying hair and cleared her throat. Sergei had a habit of clearing his throat whenever he was anxious.
“This is Emily’s parents,” she spoke slowly. “This is Sergei’s father.”
After handshakes were done across the table, Max looked at his watch. “Competition start in few hours?” He glanced at Anna then Sergei and me.
Anna’s mouth creased into a frown. “Emily’s partner is hurt, so they not skate.”
Max gave her the same confused stare he’d given me in the lobby. Anna switched to Russian and patted her right shoulder. In turn, Max grunted and spewed out a frenzy of agitated Russian I couldn’t follow.
“What’s he saying?” I whispered to Sergei.
He didn’t answer me. His cheeks had reddened, and the color was spreading down to the collar of his dress shirt.
Anna and Max continued to converse while the rest of us watched in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Max shifted his suitcase to his opposite hand and nodded to us.
“Good to meet you. Long on train, so I rest. Have good night.”
And with that farewell he left. Anna gave us an apologetic smile, and I sensed that was something she was used to doing.
“He work many hours. Very tired,” she said.
Too tired to even give his son a hug? He’d barely acknowledged Sergei’s presence in the room. The bad car accident Max had been in a year ago obviously hadn’t made him appreciate his family more.
“We understand,” Dad said. “Traveling is always tiring, especially after a long day at work.”
Mom’s eyebrows were still raised as she returned to her seat. I stayed standing and tapped Sergei’s arm. “Can we talk for a sec?”
I led him away from the table to a quiet spot near the entrance. A couple of Canadian ice dance coaches passed us, and we swapped brief hellos. I retreated further into the corner and looked up at Sergei.
“What was your dad angry about?”
Sergei rubbed the back of his neck and let out a frustrated sigh. “He wasn’t happy that he left work and now you’re not skating.”
I laughed dryly. “So, now he has something else to hold against me.”
“No, it’s not you.” Sergei touched my cheek. “He doesn’t even know you. It’s just him… and the way he is.”
“When you said he’s not a ray of sunshine, you weren’t joking. He didn’t even shake your hand.”
“He’s never been good at expressing emotion.”
“I’m sure glad you got your mom’s personality.” I tugged on the end of Sergei’s purple tie.
He smiled and wrapped his arms around me, but I could feel the tension in his body. What else could go wrong on this trip? With two days left in St. Petersburg and three more in Moscow, I was almost afraid to ask that question.
Chapter Three
“Morning, sweetie.” Mom pecked my cheek. “How’s Chris doing?”
“He’s feeling okay. He said he’s going to skip sightseeing with us, though.”
“Do you think Max will join us? He didn’t seem very social last night,” Mom said while fiddling with her leather gloves.
We hadn’t discussed Sergei’s father’s behavior at dinner, but it had been like an invisible unwanted guest at the table all night. Across the lobby, the decorative golden elevator doors slid open, and Sergei and his parents exited.
“I guess that answers your question,” I said.
Sergei kissed me, and I eyed Max warily as he shook Dad’s hand. He looked more at ease than he had upon his arrival, but his smile still seemed forced.
Anna came over to me, buttoning her long coat. “We go to museum first?”
“If that’s okay with all of you,” I said.
“Yes, yes. We enjoy to be tourist. We are not here in many years.”
Since money was tight for Sergei’s parents and they rarely took a vacation, I wasn’t surprised Anna was soaking up every minute of the trip. I couldn’t wait until her visit to the States for the wedding. She was going to love the colorful seascapes of the Cape and the historic charm of Boston. From what I knew of Max, he wouldn’t be as impressed. Or if he was, he wouldn’t show it.
We set off for Palace Square, the famous landmark seen in most pictures of St. Petersburg and the site of the State Hermitage Museum. Sergei and I strolled behind our parents, and I noticed Max kept his hands shoved in his pockets, not offering Anna any warmth. Dad had linked his arm through Mom’s as soon as we stepped outside.
As we walked through the expansive Square, I gaped at the long stretch of ornate structures. The layers of snow on the ground surrounding the palaces added to the area’s majestic feel. We stopped in front of the Winter Palace, and my eyes swept over the three-story green and white building.
“It kinda looks like a big wedding cake,” I said to Sergei.
He laughed. “I’ve never thought about it, but it does a little.”
We made our way into the museum and started our tour of the numerous collections. Max seemed interested in a sculpture of Adonis, so I formulated a comment in Russian in my head and approached him.
“It must take so much patience to complete a detailed work like this.”
“Yes, it must,” Max replied and shuffled over to another sculpture.
Nice talking to you, too.
Deciding to make another attempt, I followed Max and did my best to engage him in conversation, but he gave me only short responses. Sergei watched us from a close distance, and the glare he aimed at his father could turn mortals to stone.
I wandered away from the group and stared at a row of Italian religious paintings, admiring the deep colors and precise brushwork. Mom joined me with a backward glance over her shoulder.
“Am I imagining it or is there some tension between Sergei and his father?” she asked.
I focused on the da Vinci painting before me so I wouldn’t have to face Mom with a lie. “They’ve never been very close, so it’s probably just awkward spending time together.” That might not be the main reason, but there was some truth to it.
“Anna is such a lovely person. She’s really embraced you. But Max seems so distant to Sergei and to you, too.”
Sergei walked up to my side, so I took that opportunity to leave Mom and the discussion of Max. I wasn’t going to share the reason for his coldness. My parents knew Sergei had been involved with Elena, but they thought his career had ended because Elena’s father didn’t approve of the relationship. They didn’t know about the pregnancy, and I wanted to keep it that way. If Mom found out Sergei had fathered a child as a teenager, she’d switch into judgmental mode in a hot second.
After we viewed all the collections we wanted to see, we left the museum and settled on a nearby eatery for a late lunch. I sat between Sergei and Max, squirming from the tension radiating between them.
The young waiter took our orders, which turned into a complicated process when Mom tried to stray from the menu and ask for a different type of sauce on her pasta. I’d thought selecting an Italian restaurant for the meal would make things easier. Not so much. Max shook his head and made some sort of noise as Mom battled the waiter in broken Russian. Sergei quickly intervened and relayed Mom’s request.
Anna smiled at me across the table. “Do you finish all plans for wedding?”
“Almost. The seamstress who makes my costumes is making my dress, and she has some alterations left to do. Other than that, there are just a few little things to take care of.”
“You finish honeymoon plans also?”
I nodded. “All set. I’ll have to show you pictures of the house we’re renting. It has an amazing view of the water.”
“It is nice you not have to travel far.”
Sergei took my hand, and I squeezed it as I replied, “That’s why we chose Martha’s Vineyard. We travel so much with skating that we wanted to go somewhere without a lot of hassle. We can take the ferry and be there in an hour.”
“Where do you live after wedding?” Max asked.
My head jerked toward him at his sudden willingness to speak to me. Sergei answered before I could recover from my surprise.
“We’re going to stay at Emily’s parents’ summer house until we find a place.”
“It’s where I live now,” I added.
“House cost much money in Cape Cod?” Max asked.
Is he making small talk or is he going somewhere with this question?
I looked at Sergei then back at Max. “Some are very expensive, but we’ll be looking for something small… since it’ll just be the two of us for a few years.”
Anna smiled and touched Mom’s arm. “Yes, no grandchildren for us until after Olympics.”
“Hrrmph.” Max grumbled and mumbled in Russian. “Unless he messes up like he did with Elena. We may have a grandchild next year.”
I sucked in a breath and threw a quick glance at my parents, praying they hadn’t understood what Max had said. Sergei’s grip on my hand tightened. I waited for a reaction, but neither Mom nor Dad looked shocked, so I finally exhaled.
Anna scowled at her husband but didn’t say anything. Mom leaned toward her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite follow that.”
“It is not important,” Anna replied with a wave of her hand.
But Mom knew something was off. She set her brown eyes like lasers on Max throughout the remainder of lunch even though he uttered only a handful of words. When we left the restaurant, she steered me ahead of the others and dropped her voice.
“What was that comment Max made that upset everyone? I know you understood him. I could see it on your face.”
I groaned inwardly. I knew she was going to ask me that, so I’d prepared an answer while I ate my pasta. I hated lying, but I wasn’t going to let Max blow open a big mess four months before my wedding. It had taken Mom such a long time to accept my relationship with Sergei since he was my coach. Now was not the time to undo the goodwill between them.
“He said something like, ‘They might not win.’ I guess he was implying I’d keep skating if we don’t win gold at the Olympics, and that would delay having kids.”
“Would you keep skating?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, I can’t say how I’ll feel then, but right now, I can’t imagine competing past two thousand six.”
With Mom’s concerns addressed, I hung back for Sergei and cozied into the crook of his arm. “We’re okay,” I said quietly. “She didn’t understand him at all.”
“I can’t believe he said that,” Sergei muttered. “It took everything in me not to go off on him.”
“Do we have to worry about him bringing it up again in front of my parents? What if he tries to say it in English next time?”
“I’ll talk to him. I would’ve said something earlier, but I didn’t think he’d mention it in casual conversation.”
“Does he really think I’d be stupid enough to get pregnant before the Olympics?”
Sergei stiffened, and I touched my fingers to my mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay. Elena and I
were
stupid.” Sergei glared at the back of Max’s head. “And my father thinks he has to constantly remind me. As if I could ever forget.”
I slowed up to put more space between our parents and us. Sergei sounded like he wanted to talk about his past, so I wanted to give him the chance.
“Do you think about it a lot?” I asked. “How things would be different if you hadn’t made that mistake?”
“I don’t think about what might’ve been because I know I’m right where I’m meant to be – with you.” He hugged me closer to his side and kissed the top of my head. Looking up, he paused and stared at a young family crossing the street. “But I do think about the baby.”
His wistful tone made me want to hold him tighter. I cinched my arm around his waist and stayed quiet, allowing Sergei to continue talking at his own pace.
“I’ve never told anyone this, but when I travel different places and I see a kid with some of my features, I wonder if they could be mine.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “It’s ridiculous, I know.”
“No, it’s not,” I said softly.
“I just wish I could see if he’s happy. Or
she’s
happy.” He shook his head and let out a slow breath that smoked through the frigid air. “I don’t even know if the baby was a boy or a girl.”
“I would hope that Elena’s father arranged for a good home for it… the baby.”