Edge of the Past (7 page)

“Why didn’t you tell us the truth when you found out?”

“Because I know how quick you are to judge. Sergei made a mistake, and he paid dearly for it. He doesn’t need to be punished any more.”

“As long as you’re certain you’re comfortable with everything,” Dad said. “You don’t want to start your marriage with anything unresolved between you.”

“I know. This is what Sergei wants and this is what I want.” I nodded, trying to convince myself.

“You’re incredibly calm about all this,” Mom said. “Or maybe you’re putting up a good front.”

“Freaking out isn’t going to help the situation.”

Mom pursed her lips. “I knew from the beginning that getting involved with Sergei would bring you nothing but trouble. Having to hide it from everyone for so long because he’s your coach, that whole fiasco with the skating federation and Ethics Committee, and now this…”

“Why are you bringing all that up?” The last thing I wanted to think about was how Sergei’s career had almost been ruined when our relationship was exposed.

“To remind you how much turmoil you’ve had to deal with because of Sergei. Maybe you should think about whether he’s worth–“

“Don’t even go there.” I opened the door to the apartment, ending the conversation.

Sergei and his father were now standing, and I caught the end of what sounded like harsh words coming from Max. Sergei walked away from him and stood at my side.

“Mama, are you still coming with us to Red Square?” he asked.

She snuck a peek at Max before answering, “Yes, yes.”

“We should go then.” Sergei scowled at his father.

Max vanished into the kitchen, and we gathered up our coats and headed out into the light snow. Mom had on her I-want-to-say-something-but-don’t-want-to-start-an-argument face, while Sergei also walked in silence, his eyes filled with thought.
This is going to be a fun day of sightseeing.

Through the slushy snow, we trekked briskly to the nearest subway station. Since everyone in our group was playing the quiet game, I spent the time on the train watching the passengers and dreaming up stories about their lives – anything to avoid thinking about the problems in my own life.

As usual, Dad took charge of easing the tension, directing Sergei and me to pose for funny pictures in Red Square. Sergei raised me up into the air, and I demonstrated some of my overhead lift positions as Dad photographed us with the multi-colored turrets of St. Basil’s Cathedral in the background. Holding me aloft with one arm, Sergei spun in a circle as if he was rotating on the ice. The other tourists around us applauded, and Sergei brought me down into his arms. A smile crept across his face. I cupped my hands around his neck and gave him a tender kiss, melting the tiny snowflakes on his lips.

“I love you,” he said, his breath warm against my mouth.

I echoed his sentiment but in Russian, and his smile widened. We joined our gloved hands and walked toward the cathedral, taking our time and pointing out various sights for Dad to photograph. Sergei and Anna showed us through St. Basil’s, and Mom’s fascination with churches got her talking as we wandered through the maze-like corridors. She chatted with Anna about the large murals and dark floral-patterned walls. I hoped she’d keep her deeper thoughts to herself and not ruin our precious moment of relaxation.

We moved on to the Kremlin, which contained two more churches to explore. As we toured the historic buildings, my mind drifted to the future and how I might be visiting Russia more often if Liza became part of our family. Would Elena let Liza come to the Cape to stay with Sergei and me? I might be a stepmother very soon. What did I know about being a mother? I didn’t even know how to be a wife yet.

My moment of relaxation was gone, clouded by the unsettling questions.

****

The deeper the sun set, the antsier Sergei became waiting to hear from Elena. He and I sat in a small bar downtown, and Sergei picked up his phone from the table more than once, scrolling to Elena’s number. On the latest instance, I covered his hand with mine.

“She’ll probably just get irritated if you call her first,” I said.

“I need to know what’s going on,” he said, keeping his left hand on the phone and lifting his drink with his right.

I caressed the soft skin of his wrist. “She’ll call soon. She will.”

He nodded but didn’t let go of his cell. I looked up as the door to the bar opened, and a dark-haired woman in a sleek leather coat sauntered into the room with a burly older man. The woman’s cool beauty reminded me of Elena.

I sipped from my wine glass and watched the couple sit at a nearby table. The woman gave the man a flirtatious smile, and I shifted my eyes from them. I didn’t want to think about Elena ever giving Sergei a look like that.

Sergei flipped his phone around and around in his hand. “It’s crazy that Liza was living in New York, so close to me all that time. I never thought Ivan would give her to someone in their family. I thought he’d make sure Elena never saw her again.”

“Did you know Elena had relatives in the States?”

“Yeah, her mother was actually American.”

“Really? She seems thoroughly Russian.”

“Well, she didn’t know her mother since she died when Elena was so young, but she does have U.S. citizenship. I remember her father making sure she kept her American passport so it would be easier to travel to the States for competitions. She doesn’t consider herself American, though. When a lot of Russians started defecting to the U.S., Elena said she’d never move there.”

Hmm… so it doesn’t sound like Elena will be interested in leaving Russia anytime soon. That’s a bit of good news.

A melodic ring trilled, and Sergei looked at his phone even though he knew it was my ringtone. I pulled my cell from my purse.

“Hey, Chris. Did you see the doctor?”

“I just left his office.” He paused, and I heard his car radio in the background. “It’s a partial tear of the rotator cuff.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“I have to do some major physical therapy between now and Worlds. He said I could compete if my shoulder feels stable enough, but I’ll need surgery right after.”

I shivered with unease at the thought of Chris going under the knife. Neither of us had suffered any serious injuries during our four-year partnership.

Sergei leaned over the table, his forehead creased. “How did it go?”

I frowned. “Partial tear.”

Sergei continued to look worried as I resumed talking to Chris. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“It hasn’t been bad unless I move my arm a certain way. Don’t worry, Em. I told you I’ll be good to go for Worlds.”

He kept saying that, but a partial tear could turn into a full tear once he started lifting me over his head and throwing me into the air.

Sergei tapped the table. “Tell him I’m going to call the doctor tomorrow.”

I relayed the message, and Chris asked, “How’s it going with Sergei’s parents? Has his dad loosened up?”

“Uh, no. We’ve had some bigger issues on our plate, though. It’s too much to get into now, but I’ll tell you when I get home.”

“Sounds like it’s not much of a vacation.”

“That would be correct.”

Sergei’s phone vibrated, and we both froze and stared at it. “Chris, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Sergei pressed the answer button while I hung up my phone and took a long drink of my red wine.

“Elena?” he said.

As Elena spoke, Sergei closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his fist. In Russian, he said, “I’m sorry” and later, “Did you tell her I want to see her?”

He raised his head and made eye contact with me, clearly distressed. “I want to come over,” he said into the phone. “Maybe I can help.”

I massaged his sleeve and gave him a questioning look. Sergei moved the phone from his mouth and whispered, “Liza locked herself in her room.”

That
poor girl
. Everything she knew to be true had just been blown apart. I questioned again whether Sergei should’ve taken more time to think this through.

“I’m coming over so we can talk in person,” Sergei said.

Elena’s rising voice filtered through the phone before sudden silence took over. Sergei winced and disconnected the call.

“She doesn’t want you there?” I guessed.

“She’s so upset she can barely speak. She wasn’t making much sense. I need to talk to her face to face.”

I wrapped my knit scarf around my neck. “I can get a taxi back to the hotel.”

“Can you come with me? If we see Liza, you might make her more comfortable. She seemed to be a big fan of yours.”

Confronting an angry Elena and an emotional child didn’t sound like a particularly pleasant experience. But Sergei needed me, and I didn’t like the idea of Elena and him potentially being alone.

“Sure,” I said, wishing I hadn’t tried the herring appetizer earlier. It was now swimming upstream in my stomach.

We jumped in a taxi and were at Elena’s building as soon as the evening traffic allowed. The plain gray tower rose high above the busy street. We took the elevator up to the eighth floor, and when we stepped into the hall, Sergei halted. He turned his head both ways before aiming for a door to our left.

Sergei rang the bell, and frantic footsteps sounded from inside. The door popped open, and a tear-stained Elena huffed, “I tell you to stay away.”

“We have to deal with this,” Sergei said.

“She do not come out of her room,” Elena cried. “She say she never come out.”

“Can you let us in so we don’t have to discuss this out here?” Sergei pleaded.

Elena looked too defeated to put up a fight. Her shoulders sagged and her dark bob shielded her face as she shuffled aside for us to enter.

The inside of the apartment was much more impressive than the exterior. Marble floors stretched from the foyer into the living room ahead of us. The air smelled rich, like polished wood and fragrant roses. I couldn’t tell from the immaculate furniture that anyone lived there. The room resembled a museum more than a home.

“I should not do this stupid thing,” Elena wailed. “Why I listen to you?”

“She had to know the truth,” Sergei said. “It wouldn’t have been any easier later on.”

“I need time to prepare. Maybe I find better way to explain to her.”

“Did you tell her we didn’t want to give her up? That we had no choice?”

Every time Sergei said he didn’t want to give up the baby, my heart pulsed with jealousy I was ashamed to feel. If Elena’s father hadn’t intervened back then, Sergei would’ve married Elena. He’d admitted that to me when I discovered his secret. Knowing there was another woman who could’ve been his wife…

Elena sat on the cream-colored couch and wiped her eyes with the crumpled tissue in her hand. “I tell her we are too young and we cannot care for her. Then she ask why my cousins lie to her. Now she think bad of them. And she is so angry with me because I not tell her sooner.”

She balled up her tattered tissue and resorted to using her fingers to blot her eyes. Her efforts only resulted in smearing more mascara across her ivory cheeks. I rummaged through my purse and fished out a packet of Kleenex, offering it to Elena.

“Thank you.” She sniffled and plucked a tissue.

“She’s not going to be angry with you forever,” Sergei said. “She’ll–”

He gaped over my shoulder, so I turned to see what had startled him. Liza stood at the edge of the hall, just as sniffly as Elena. Her beautiful blue eyes looked like large swimming pools of tears. I felt the urge to go over and give her a big hug.

“You’re my father?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

Sergei’s Adam’s apple slid down slowly. “Yes,” he croaked.

Liza stepped further into the room and faced Sergei, her chin trembling and her fingers fidgeting together. “Will you take me back to America with you?”

Chapter Seven

Of all the reactions I expected from Liza, asking Sergei to take her with him wasn’t one of them.

“Liza, this is your home…” Elena rose and moved toward her.

“I hate it here.” Liza’s voice broke. “I never wanted to come here.”

Sergei’s eyes shot to Elena. “What is this? Why is she so unhappy?”

“She is upset. She never say before she is not happy.”

“I miss my friends. I miss my school.” Liza craned her neck up to Sergei. “Please, I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

The pools in her eyes overflowed, and a stream of water trickled down her pale cheeks. I bit down on my lip, holding in my own tears. Sergei’s face was white with pained shock.

“Liza, I know you are mad with me, but I make it better. I give you anything you want,” Elena said.

“I want to leave,” she replied.

Sergei sniffed and cleared his throat. Then he crouched on one knee in front of Liza.

“I am so happy to finally meet you,” he choked out. “And I want to spend as much time with you as possible, but the law says I can’t take you with me.”

“But you’re my father,” she said with teary confusion.

Sergei’s jaw shook as he tried to keep from crying, and my heart couldn’t handle the sight. I bent my head and blinked as stinging tears flooded my contact lenses.

“I am.” Sergei’s reply dripped with pride. “But since I just found out the truth, it’s a little complicated. There’s some stuff Elena and I need to discuss.”

“Liza, you wait in your room while Sergei and I talk?” Elena asked tentatively.

Sergei straightened up, looking so tall next to the tiny girl. She gazed up at him with wet eyes. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”

“No, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Liza slowly turned and retreated to the hallway. Sergei covered his face with his hands, and I went over to him and clutched the front of his jacket.

“Are you okay?” I asked, though I knew he wasn’t. But I had no idea what else to say.

He dropped his hands and put his arms around me. I touched my fingers to the nape of his neck, gently rubbing and lending him warmth. After a few steadying breaths, Sergei slid close to my side and gave Elena a questioning stare.

“Why didn’t you tell me how miserable she is?”