Out of Grief (19 page)

“I will encourage Sofia to love the person who makes her happy…”

“So you will encourage her to be a lesbian like you?”

“The person who understands her, who will stand beside her through thick and thin.”

“Asked and answered. No further questions, Your Honor,” he said, cutting me off.

“What? No, it wasn’t.”

“Ms. Kasianenko, I would ask that you refrain from any outbursts.”

“Redirect, your honor?” Kat said, jumping to her feet.

“Okay.”

“Same question, Ms. Kasianenko. Will you raise your daughter to become a lesbian?”

“No. I will raise her to love whoever she chooses, as long as that person has her best interests in mind. Whatever gender the person happens to be will be insignificant to me. The idea that two women or two men together face different problems than a man and a woman is ridiculous. But I think we can all agree that in society’s eyes, should she decide to be with a man, her life may be easier. The fact that I am even sitting here today should be sufficient evidence of that.”

“Thank you. No further questions.”

“Closing remarks tomorrow at 1 pm. That will be all for now.” The judge rose.

My mother handed me Sofia and the sling the minute the judge left. “Here, Nikita.” She helped me secure Sofia in place.

I felt Mrs. Warren’s eyes bore into my skull as she passed. “Enjoy it while you can,” she said.

I looked at Sofia, sleeping so peacefully. No idea that the fate of her existence lay in my hands. If I screwed this up, she’d be living a bad fairy tale with an evil grandmother instead of a stepmother.

“What do you think?” I asked Kat, when Mrs. Warren and her attorney had gone.

“Judge Martinez is a fair woman, Nikki. Don’t worry, I won’t let this drop, no matter what.” She looked at me and smiled. “I got your back, always.”

Chapter Forty-One

“Nikita, did you mean what you said in court, about not writing?” my father asked at dinner that night.

My mother had prepared my favorite, Veal Orlov, but I didn’t have much of an appetite. So I pushed the Béchamel sauce around on my plate.

“I don’t know. I mean, I could. But I could also write around Sofia’s schedule, once we get one going.”

“Is there something wrong with the meal?” my mother asked.

“No, Mama, it’s perfect. I’m just scared.”

“I know.” She patted my hand. “Perhaps a bite or two for Sofia’s sake. To keep your strength up.”

I pulled some of the mushrooms and onions out from between the meat, and took a bite. There was no denying my mother was a kick ass cook. But my stomach was doing somersaults. A term I hadn’t understood until that evening.

“Perhaps you would like to skip to the Ptichye Moloko,” my father said.

My mother was going above and beyond. Who could turn down a Bird’s Nest Cake, especially from my great grandmother’s recipe?

“I will get it.” My mother rose.

“Go ahead, ask,” I said to my father, when my mother was gone.

“Ask what, Malyshka?”

“What I’m going to do if I lose?”

“But you are not going to lose.”

“We don’t know that.”

My mother set the cake down next to me. “Katarina is very good at her job. At this point tomorrow, we will be celebrating. You will see.”

“Then maybe save the cake for that,” I suggested.

“Nonsense,” my mother said, cutting a very generous piece. “I made two for this reason.”

The tears were streaming down my face now like a dam had burst. This, right here in this room, this was love. The two people I had always depended on in this world were not going to abandon me. Maybe I would get through this. I wanted Sofia to know this, to feel this kind of love. Not the kind of cool, pretentious, fake love that Quinn grew up with.

“Nikita!” My mother pulled me against her side and rocked me. “Why tears?”

I sniffed, trying to wipe the tears out of my eyes with my palms. “I love you both; you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course we do.” My father smiled.

“No matter what happens, I need Sofia to know you. I need her to, for Quinn’s sake. Otherwise she will never know …” I blew my nose on my mother’s good linen napkin, and she didn’t bat an eye. “I’m sorry.”

My mother kissed the top of my head. “You have lost much, Nikita. But as long as we breathe, you will know love. And Sofia will too.”

Chapter Forty-Two

I wanted to keep Sofia with me through closing arguments, to feel her warmth against me. I’d gotten used to it. Being able to look into those brilliant blue eyes when they were open, and see all the possibilities. She was bright like Quinn, there was no doubt in my mind. But Kat said she should sit with my mother, so I reluctantly gave her up. Knowing, of course, she would be safe, and really, if anything went wrong, this could be the last time my mother got to hold her.

Mrs. Warren looked smug today. Like she thought it was all sewn up and in the bag. But I guess she thought she had God on her side. The Orthodox Church was different then the one she attended. Oh, I know deep down they didn’t condone homosexuality, but we were never raised to condemn others. We were always taught to love one another. Or maybe my rudimentary Russian allowed me the chance to interpret things the way I wanted. I only know that my parents were never condescending to anyone, and they always remembered everyone at holidays, and throughout the year. As successful as my father was, I knew he gave over a quarter of what he made to various charities, including the church, and volunteered his time at the free clinic when he could. The type of hate that Mrs. Warren spewed in the name of religion was beyond my comprehension. Not that I didn’t see cases of it every day in the world, I just didn’t understand how they could justify their actions in the name of a god.

I had prayed last night. Something, I’ll admit, I rarely did. I never felt right about asking God for things. But I actually got down on my hands and knees last night,
and I prayed that I would win this case. I hoped that I wasn’t praying for Quinn’s forgiveness later today when it was all over.

Judge Martinez arrived, and we all stood, and then Mr. Vogt was up.

“Your Honor, Ms. Kasianenko can make all the claims in the world that she will be a fine upstanding citizen, but it is nothing against Mrs. Warren’s record as a member of the Methodist Church Ladies’ Association, and her years of service on the Ladies’ Auxillary
. She will raise her daughter’s child in a God fearing environment; whereas Ms.
Kasianenko’s alternative lifestyle will be questionable at best. I think there is only one decision to be made here.” He unbuttoned his jacket and sat down next to Mrs. Warren, who smiled like the Cheshire cat.

Kat stood. “Your Honor, there are no studies which indicate that a child raised by homosexual parents will become homosexual, which I’m sure is Mrs. Warren’s greatest fear. Despite the fact that her daughter was one.”

I watched Mrs. Warren squirm at the dig.

“And there are no indications that my client has led anything other than a wholesome lifestyle. Does she prefer women to men? Yes, but that does not mean that she has been promiscuous, quite the contrary. She makes a decent living as a writer, she is wiling to suspend book tours and speaking engagements until Sofia is old enough to be in school. She has an incredible support system in her parents, Dr. and Mrs.
Kasianenko, and she has the endorsement of her departed spouse. It was Quinn Warren’s desire that Ms. Kasianenko raise their child, should anything happen to her. While I understand that the idea of gay marriage is new in the state of New York, the idea of marriage is not. Ms. Kasianenko should be awarded all the rights and privileges of any widowed spouse. I hope that you will honor their contract of marriage.”

Kat sat back down.

“Normally, I would take the time to recess after hearing arguments. But I must say, that this case has been a waste of the court’s time from the beginning. Of course I will uphold the marriage contract and award Ms. Kasianenko the rights due her. There is no evidence to support that she will be anything other than a good parent.”

“You Honor!” Mr. Vogt jumped up.

“Mr. Vogt, if you say one more word, I will find you in contempt. Do you understand?”

Mr. Vogt sat back down, and Mrs. Warren looked like she would explode. Her face was turning red.

“You cannot be serious!” Mrs. Warren shouted. “That pervert will NOT raise my grandchild.”

“Mr. Vogt, get your client in check, or there’s a cell downstairs with her name on it,” the judge said.

“I have friends on the judicial board, I will have …”

“That’s it! Bailiff, please escort Mrs. Warren to our fine facilities. Mrs. Warren, when you are ready to make a formal apology to this court, we will consider letting you out. The state of New York now recognizes marriages for same sex couples. This court will not be the court to strike down any of the rights and privileges that go with that, based on a grandmother’s biased opinion of right and wrong. Court dismissed.”

“Get your hands off me!” Mrs. Warren screamed at the bailiff.

“Cynthia, don’t make this any worse than it already is,” Mr. Vogt cautioned.

“If she thinks I’m going to apologize, it will be a cold day in hell!”

“Fine by me.” Judge Martinez smiled at Kat. “Mr. Vogt, a formal apology. Nothing less.”

The bailiff and a security guard escorted Mrs. Warren out, followed by Mr. Vogt.

“Nikki.” Kat shook me. “We won.”

I hugged Kat. “Thank you. I was in shock over what just happened.”

“Nikita.” My mother hugged me, and immediately gave me Sofia back.

“Okay, pumpkin.” I kissed Sofia and tucked her back into the sling. “Evil grandmother defeated. Now, you will only know the craziness that is the Kasianenko family. But it’s a good craziness, trust me.”

“That it is.” Kat smiled.

“Will she really keep Mrs. Warren locked up?”

“At least overnight, to teach her a lesson. It really depends on how obstinate Mrs. Warren is.”

“Maybe we should send her provisions,” my mother said, “No one I know is more obstinate than that woman.”

“Oh, Mama.” I hugged her. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Nikita.”

“Let’s get out of here.,” Kat said. “I’ve got other clients, you know.”

“Okay, but Katarina? Tonight you come for dinner and we celebrate.”

“I’d love to, Mrs. K, but I have a date.”

“You bring her.”

Kat looked at me.

I wasn’t sure I was ready to be celebrating. I was happy this was over. But Quinn was gone, and I wasn’t sure I would be great company.

“Hey?” Kat touched my arm. “Are you okay?”

I looked away from Sofia long enough to see the look of concern on her face, and my mother’s. They both had fought so hard for this moment. “Sure, bring her. Stay for a little while. The food will be good.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

I squeezed back the tears that were threatening to fall. Maybe it would be good to be with the people that loved me. “I am,” I said. “Besides, you’ll get to see how she reacts around babies.”

Kat’s eyes opened wide. Her expression was priceless.

“Relax, maybe she doesn’t like them either.” I bumped her side. “Besides, you don’t really keep them long enough for it to be a problem.”

“I don’t know. This one might be a keeper.”

“Then Sofia can be your litmus test.”

Epilogue

I hadn’t been called to the principal’s office since Quinn and I were caught smoking in the girl’s room at school. It was my first, and last, attempt at smoking. Yet, there I was, waiting outside the principal’s office because Sofia had hit a boy. I thought it was Kat pranking me when I got the call. Sofia was not a violent child. She was sweet and gentle, despite her endless litany of questions. I had hoped it wasn’t because she had berated the teacher with too many questions, and thought that was silly, as she was only in Kindergarten.

Sofia was quiet as we waited. She had clearly been crying, but she didn’t have a scratch on her, so I wondered how she could have been in a fight. Her arms were crossed, and she starred at the boy who sat across from us. Her tiny body was rigid, as every muscle was on high alert waiting to strike again.

The boy, who I didn’t recognize, sat with an ice pack pressed tightly against his nose. She had tagged him so hard there was a considerable amount of blood. But the school nurse said it wasn’t broken. So the three of us sat, waiting for his parents to arrive.

When five minutes had clicked by, I knelt in front of her to block him from her view and to force her to look at me. “Sofia, you need to tell me what happened. You know violence is never the solution to any problem, right?”

“I know.”

“Then why did you hit him?”

“He was saying bad things about you, and I told him to stop.”

“What kind of bad things?”

She looked at me for a moment, and I could see that she was struggling with what to say.

I rested my hands on her knees, and gently squeezed, as sometimes that would prompt her to speak. It didn’t. “Pumpkin, you have to tell me, so I can try and help understand what happened.”