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Post by Angela on Sept 30, 2007 21:29:09 GMT -5
Scenes taking place in October of 2007 will be posted here.
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Post by Angela on Oct 5, 2007 16:42:40 GMT -5
"All right, class, now if you will kindly hand in your papers when you're finished with the test, you can go to recess," Mrs. Thomas said to the first-graders at Franklin Elementary School in Sewickley, PA. Among the students working on their spelling tests, young Miroslav Potemerenko. If it weren't for the teacher knowing sign language, Miroslav wouldn't have been able to earn his grades fairly on the tests in spelling. She made the sign of the words as she asked the students to spell the corresponding words, and Slava usually did fairly well in this subject. He had been finished with his test for the past minute, and waited patiently to be allowed to go to recess. Mrs. Thomas went to collect the papers, smiling at Slava as she took his, then went back to her desk.
"All right, you may all go to recess now," she said, and signed as she spoke. The kids cheered and hurried out the classroom door. Slava was sitting in the front, but that didn't mean he was able to get out of class first. His classmates wouldn't let him pass! Finally he moved in between two students and a gap between a third, and casually strode out of the door, followed his class through the hall, and at last making his way out to the school playground. There were several monitors and teachers there, waiting to carefully watch the children, and prevent as many unfortunate incidents as possible.
Slava's favorite thing to do was slide, so that was where he went first. He climbed the ladder and happily slid to the bottom feetfirst, arms up, enjoying the feeling of freedom and flight that he got. Some of his classmates were behind him, and he headed back over to the ladder for another turn. As he got near the top, he saw the boy ahead of him slide on his stomach, facefirst.
That looks like fun! Slava thought, and mimicked him. That was fun! he thought as he joined the boy at the bottom of the stairs.
"What's your name?" Slava asked, signing as well as speaking. The boy just stared at him, then went to the ladder again. While most grown-ups could understand Slava's speech, children weren't so comprehensive. He simply couldn't understand what Slava was saying.
Slava spent some more time on the slide, then he saw some kids on the monkey bars, and thought it would be nice to play on it next. Most of the children were eithe ron the lower bars or middle bars, but a few kids were at the very top, just sitting there talking. Slava shrugged and climbed slowly up the bars, holding on tight. Some of his friends were on the middle bars, and he recognized another friend at the top. He smiled at them, and decided to climb to the top to be with his friend. He climbed to the bar below the top, and smiled to his friend, who was diagonally across from him, sitting on the very top.
"Hi, Charlie!" Slava said, not signing since his hands were holding onto the bars.
Charlie Maxwell was one of the few boys who understood and befriended Slava. He smiled and waved.
"Hey, Slava, come up here! We're playing a game!"
Slava looked at him, then looked at the ground. It didn't seem like a good idea, but he had seen his friends and fellow classmates come on the top and sit, without anything bad happening... and he had excellent balance, so he didn't see anything wrong with following him. Slava carefully reached up as far as he could, grabbed the top bar, and carefully climbed up onto it.
"What kind of game?" he asked Charlie, joining the other three kids, sitting precariously on the very top of the jungle gym.
"Hand games, like this-" Charlie paused, and held his hands out to the boy across from him and started chanting as they slapped each other's hands.
"Bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish. How many pieces do you wish?"
"Five!" the other boy answered.
"One potato, two potato, three potato, four, five potato," Charlie chanted, then turned to Slava. "See?"
"Oh, yeah! I see that all the time! I'd love to play!" he replied, and Charlie grinned.
"Great!" They played "Bubble Gum," and then moved on to "Eenie Meanie." Everything was going well, until a game involving tapping heads came about. To avoid being "out," one had to move their head out of the way on the number "five," and then number "four" was the one out. To avoid being out, Slava leaned back to move his head out of the way. Unfortunately, that caused him to lose his balance. He did not have his hands on the bars, there was nothing under his feet, and he was too shocked and scared to react any other way than to scream and fall.
Slava grasped at anything, but grabbed nothing but air as he plummetted to the hard pavement, landing in a heap, sobbing in pain. A playground attendant rushed over to the crying six-year-old, and checked to see if anything was broken. He was bruising and swelling, and the attendant discovered that his collarbone was broken.
"I want Papa!" the boy wailed as more attendants and teachers joined the first. They rushed Slava to Shadyside hospital, and promptly contacted Irina and Zhenya.
Irina was putting Rita to sleep, humming and singing softly the lullabye that Aleksei Potemerenko used to sing to his children, which Zhenya had taught her when they reunited in 2005. The girl was just a year old, and Zhenya was loving watching her develop as she grew. Irina just tucked Rita in when the phone rang.
"Allo?" she asked, taking the portable phone into the hallway.
"Is this Mrs. Potemerenko?" a young woman asked. Irina raised her eyebrows.
"Yes... Who is this?"
"This is Clara Roberts, I'm with Shadyside Hospital, and I'm calling to inform you that your son, Miroslav? He was involved in a playground accident. Apparently he fell from the monkey bars, he has a broken collarbone."
Irina's jaw dropped and for a few moments she couldn't find any words. Finally she found her voice.
"What? How could this happen?"
"You'll have to talk to school personell to find out details of the incident. But your son is being taken care of, Dr. Lowry is our best specialist when it comes to childhood injuries. He should be just fine. In fact he may be able to go home in a few hours, depending on what the doctor says."
Irina sighed with relief and frustration.
"All right. Thank you very much, Zhenya- er, Miroslav's father and I will be there immediately."
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Post by Angela on Oct 6, 2007 15:51:48 GMT -5
"Well done, Amanda," Evgeni said, making a few notes about the 12-year-old's spiral. "Tina, can I see that triple flip once again please?"
Evgeni Potemerenko was at the rink, coaching a few students in a group session. He paused and skated out to meet another girl.
"Hold on, Megan. That position isn't very good. Remember what I taught you-" He assisted the girl in doing a Biellmann spin, and observed he while she did it. He skated over to Tina. "Well done. Let's see that wonderful combination spin of yours."
Unbeknownst to anyone, Evgeni's cellular phone started ringing. Unfortunately the music from the rink drowned out the strains of Tchaikovsky's 1812 that came from the black phone sitting on the boards. Even if he were close enough to the boards to grab the phone, he wouldn't have been able to hear it. So the phone went by unanswered.
Half an hour passed, and Evgeni still coached the children at the rink, having no knowledge of the events taking place involving his son. Forty-five minutes, and finally a voice came over the intercom.
"Evgeni Potemerenko, please come to the head office."
Evgeni smiled and instructed the other coaches to look after the students in his care, and went to the office. He didn't bother taking off his skates, he just put guards on. Whatever it was, it shouldn't be that important.
Natasha was in her office, tapping her fingers against her desk. Evgeni knocked at the door and she instructed him to come in.
"You weren't answering your phone," she said with a sigh.
"What?" he asked blankly.
"Your wife and mother have tried calling you a dozen times on your cell and pager, they called me, I paged you about five times, called about five times, finally I had to get you through the intercom."
Zhenya stared at her. "What happened?"
"Slava was in an accident," Natasha explained sadly. "He fell from the monkey bars at school. He has a broken collarbone. He's home now, they put him in a brace."
"What?" Evgeni asked again, this time in utter shock. "Is he all right?"
"He's all right enough, but he wants you, he's been crying for you and you alone since it happened about an hour ago."
"Good Lord... He's home? What hospital cared for him?"
"He was in Shadyside, but he's home now since they took care of him. Irina really wants you home as soon as you can be on your way."
"Immediately, thank you, Natasha."
He sighed and stood up. He hurried to change, and asked some of the coaches if they would mind looking after the children for the rest of the session. They were fine with it, so he hurried home. Irina was downstairs in the living room, pacing, crying a little. Maria was sitting down, trying to comfort her with words. The two of them looked at the door as it opened. Irina walked up to Zhenya and glared at him.
"It's nice to see you were able to find time in your extremely busy schedule for us!" she exclaimed. "Your son has been crying for you for over an hour," she scolded.
"Ira, I'm sorry, Mama, I'm sorry, I didn't hear the cell or the pager go off. I didn't know anything was wrong until Natasha paged me over the intercom. I'm so sorry! I didn't know. How is he now?"
"See for yourself," Ira said with a sigh, gesturing to the stairs that led to the bedrooms. Zhenya hurried up to his son's room. The boy was lying in bed, blankets tucked around him. He was crying a little. A pile of books was lying next to him; Maria and Irina had been reading to him earlier to calm him down. Straps went around Slava's upper arms, supporting the brace over his clothes that supported his back. Zhenya hurried to the bedside and knelt to him, taking his hand. The boy looked at him and started crying harder, embracing him tightly. Zhenya kissed the top of his head and stroked his hair, holding him tight. He felt tears in his own eyes as Slava continued to cry.
He held him for the longest time, cooing to him gently, stroking his hair as the boy cried. Finally, he pulled away and helped Slava to lie back down again.
"What happened, Slavachka?" he asked, ever so tenderly.
"I fell from the monkey bars... I'm sorry! Please don't be mad!"
"Oh, malenki, I'm not mad," Evgeni said gently. "It was just an accident, it's no one's fault," he continued, stroking his hair and drying his tears. He leaned over and kissed his forehead. Zhenya knew his son couldn't hear what he was saying, so he hoped that his facial expression and body language were enough to tell Slava that he loved him and that he was there for him in his time of need. Slava smiled a little and took his father's hand and clutched it tightly. "Would you like me to read to you, malenki?" Zhenya asked. Slava immediately perked up and nodded.
"'Peter Pan,' please!"
Zhenya smiled, picking up the books, sifting through them to find the classic Disney version of the children's story. He found it in no time and opened the book so Slava could see the pictures.
"'All this has happened before, and it will all happen again. But this time it happened in London...'"
Evgeni stayed with Miroslav for another half hour, till he was sleeping comfortably. Zhenya made the Sign of the Cross over Slava, prayed for him for a few minutes, then went downstairs.
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Post by Angela on Oct 15, 2007 1:26:24 GMT -5
Maria stood up and went to the kitchen, leaving Irina and Zhenya alone. Irina had her hand on her forehead, looking stressed. Zhenya sat beside her and put his arms around her. Irina shrugged them off and stood up. She paced the room, averting her husband's eyes.
"I can't believe you took one hour to get here, one hour before you even found out about it!" she said, exasporated and frustrated. Zhenya sighed.
"Ira, come on. I didn't hear my phone. I didn't hear my pager. I didn't-"
"Excuses, excuses, is that all you can say?" Irina exclaimed, turning to face him. Zhenya stared at her, stunned.
"Ira, I don't intend to make excuses," he began, but was cut off.
"Yes you are, and I don't want to hear them. I'm tired of always taking second place to you!"
"What?" Zhenya asked, stunned even more. "What do you mean, 'second place?'"
Irina sighed and sat down. "You always put me and our children second to your family, your friends, even your students. I'm tired of it. This is the last straw."
"How can you say that?" Zhenya exclaimed, standing up. "You are not second, nor are our children! You and our children are the most important things in my life-"
"If that's true, I suggest you start acting like it," Irina said, glaring at him. She sighed and fell into a nearby chair, putting her head in her hands, crying a little. Zhenya hurried to her. She did not try to push him away. "You've changed," she whispered.
"I didn't realize..." he whispered in return, his heart breaking. "Look, whatever you want me to do, name it, and it will be done."
"What I want from you, you can't give," Irina said, taking his hand in hers and kissing it.
"I'm sure I can." Zhenya stroked her hair to comfort her.
"I want you home more... I know you're 'here' but you're very rarely 'here.' The fact is, you're always talking or thinking about something unrelated to us. I'm just very sad about it," she said. "Even sometimes when we're all out together, we come second to other things. I'm losing my husband, and the kids are losing their father."
Zhenya sighed, rubbing his forehead. "There's no contest, no question. You want me home more, I will be home more. I'll cut down on my students, I will spend more time with you, and concentrate about us when we have this time. You're right, I did neglect you, and I had no right to. I'm sorry, my love. I will make this right, I promise."
"It's not that simple..." Irina closed her eyes slowly and kept them closed for a long time, silently contemplating as tears fell from them. She opened her eyes, stood up, and went to the phone.
"Who are you calling?" Zhenya asked, surprised.
"I'm calling for a hotel room."
Zhenya walked over and took the phone from her, gently. "You don't need to do that."
"Zhenya-"
"If you don't want me here, I understand, but this is your house, you stay. I'll go to Danilka's. But I must ask you one thing. You saw how Slava wanted me..." His voice trailed off. He hated to say such a thing.
"I won't stop you from saying goodbye," Irina said with a sigh, turning her back to him. "Do you really think me that cruel?"
"No, Ira, my angel... I didn't mean to imply that you were. But do you really think being away from me will help him?" he asked quietly. Ira turned to him and gave him a stern look.
"You want to take my son from me."
"Our son, for a few days!" Zhenya insisted. "Just for a few days, till Monday, or Sunday, I'll drop him off, and he can stay with you for however long it takes us to sort things out. I just think that being away from me would do more harm than good right now."
"And Rita?" Irina asked shrilly. "You want to take her from me too?"
"Ira, I'm not taking either of them from you, if you don't want me to take Slava, I won't!" His voice rose slightly in his anger. "I'm not taking them from you," he insisted, quieter this time.
"What about custody? Who will get custody?"
"Aren't we getting ahead of ourselves?" Zhenya asked with a sigh, turning away. "You need a divorce before you can talk about custody." There was silence for a minute. Zhenya turned and stared at her. "You want a divorce?!" Irina said nothing. Zhenya sat down, utterly shocked. "I don't believe this. You want a divorce. You know I don't believe in that. Our marriage-"
"Is under great stress right now, Evgeni Alekseievich. Seperation is a good idea right now."
"But... just seperation, right? Not actual... divorce?"
"I can't make any promises," Irina said, drying her eyes, "but I see no reason why we should get a divorce at this time. I think what's in our kids' best interest is to seperate, and try and work things out."
"I just... I just can't believe that you would even consider divorce, after all that we've been through together, after all that we've been through seperately! I endured torture for you!" The twenty-five-year-old was not doing a good job of expressing himself. Irina's jaw dropped.
"How dare you! I didn't ask you to do that, you know. That was your choice! Now you're trying to guilt-trip me?!"
"Will you two please stop!" Maria exclaimed angrily. "You should both stop, right now, before you both end up saying things you don't mean. Zhenya, go upstairs, pack, say goodbye, whatever you need to do, then go. Do you want me to come with you?" she asked. Now Zhenya and Irina turned to her and stared, mouths agape. Zhenya was quiet, thinking.
"It's up to you," he said in a gentle tone. "I won't stop you from staying, but if Ira wants you to go, you're welcome to stay with me, I'm sure Danilka won't mind. I would be happy to have you with me..." He shrugged. Maria walked over to Ira and put her arm around her.
"Do you want me to stay?" Maria asked. Her daughter-in-law took her hand, and shook her head.
"Your son needs you more than I do right now." She kissed her hand.
"All right." Maria kissed her forehead, then walked over to Zhenya and put her arms around him. "Well, I suggest we actually call Danilka before we go running off to him. Then we need to pack-"
"If you really want..." Irina said quietly, "and if it's what Slava wants... you can take him for a few days. Drop him off at school Monday and I'll pick him up. I can understand, given the circumstances, why you'd want him with you... but what about Rita? Do you want her too?" Zhenya looked at her piteously.
"I can't leave you... alone..."
"Honestly? I think it may do me good... us good... Take them, Zhenya... I'm sorry... I should have been more considerate. After all, this is out of the blue for you... You have rights as a father to take them..."
"Just for a few days," Zhenya agreed, putting his hands on Irina's upper arms. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, if that's how you care to put it. I'll do what I can to make things right. I promise." He stroked her damp cheek. "I can't live without you, Katyusha..." She sobbed a little, and laid her head against his chest ever so slightly. Zhenya put his arms around her and held her for a moment. He took in the aroma of her perfume, her hair, the sound of her breathing, the feeling of her body in his arms. It had indeed been a long time since he actually took these things in. Usually he took them for granted, ignored the small details. In the moment, he began to hum softly as he held her close, dreading when he would have to let her go. But he did not hum for long when Irina gently pulled away.
"I'm going to talk to Slava and Rita while you two go pack and call Danilka." She kissed Zhenya's right ring finger, the finger that had his wedding band, before she left to go upstairs.
"What's happened to us?" Zhenya asked when she was out of sight, plunging into the couch. Maria sighed and sat next to him, putting her arm around him.
"No couple lives 'happily ever after,' Evgeni Alekseievich. Even those who've stayed married their whole lives, even people who love each other for life, fight. It's part of human nature. Perfection doesn't exist in any form, you have said this yourself. Why should your marriage be any different?"
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Post by Angela on Oct 28, 2007 1:28:55 GMT -5
(the following contains explicit descriptions of sex and a little foul language)
Danil was enjoying some strawberries in white chocolate, which Peter had gotten from for dessert. Peter sat next to him, his arm around him as he thoughtfully watched the news. Peter chuckled softly, and turned off the television. Danil looked at him quizzically.
"What do you say we... have some alone time?" he asked. Danil blinked.
"Ah, we are alone, Pete..."
"Not quite," he said. He got up, and led Danil into their bedroom. Danil laughed.
"Pete, it's in the mddle of the afternoon," Danil said, but Peter closed the door and led Danil to the bed. "Isn't it a bit early for this?" he asked.
"It's never too early for love," he said, putting his arms around Danil, kissing him passionately for a minute. "You want to?" he asked.
Danil stared at him, amused, and finally laughed. "Why not. It's... interesting."
Peter continued to kiss Danil as he unbuttoned his shirt. Danil was amused at how odd this seemed. They rarely had sex under such circumstances. Usually, it was in bed, at night, shades drawn, on a weekend. But as they say, variety is the spice of life...
Peter was wearing a simple T-shirt, so Danil simply unbuckled Peter's belt while Peter took off his shirt. Once their clothes were off, they stood in a passionate embrace for a minute, Danil still amused a little at the spontonaiety. Peter, who could easily bench 300, picked up Danil and carried him to the bed, lying him down gently and he climbed on top of him. Danil looked at him, a loving yet amused smile on his face.
It didn't take long at all for both of them to get really excited, and soon they were passionately entwined together, enjoyhing the feeling of being intimate. Both were breathless, kissing each other, and slightly in pain. Peter's head was swimming with the thrill the feeling gave to him. Danil was feeling the same way, and massaged Peter's chest, admiring his chisled physique.
Peter paused in his passion to caress Danil once more and kiss him, then continued, and just at the height of ecstasy, suddenly the telephone rang. Danil and Peter both groaned, but Peter recovered and simply continued.
"Let it ring," he whispered in Danil's ear as he blew into it. Danil grinned on instinct, but shook his head. "Answering machine's right here, if it's important, we'll get it," Peter continued, in the same breathless tone he used before.
"Pete, no, there's no sense in letting it ring," Danil said, equally breathless. He reached over and picked up the portable phone on its sixth ring. Before he pressed the Talk button, though, he cleared his throat and said, insistently, "Peter... That's enough, please... I don't want whoever this is to hear." On the seventh ring, Danil finally answered. "Allo?" Danil said, trying to sound casual.
"Good Lord, Danilka, what took you so long?" Zhenya asked, oblivious. Danil went white as a ghost.
Oh my God... My devoutly-religious brother is calling me when I'm having intercourse with my gay partner!
"Ah... was out walking Zoloto," he lied with a chuckle, and put his hand over the receiver. "Peter! It's Zhenya, can you please get off?"
"I'm stuck!" Peter said, mortified and humiliated.
"Oh, good Lord!" Danil groaned, then removed his hand from the receiver. "What's up?" he asked, still trying to sound casual as Peter tried to pull himself off Danil.
"Well... I need a favor," Zhenya said with a sad sigh.
"Ow-" Danil said as he winced, and gave Peter a Look. "Anything for you, Zhenyechka, of course," he continued on the phone. "Ow- argh!"
"Ow!" Peter said, in a slightly raised voice. "Fuck!" he exclaimed.
"Peter!" Danil hissed.
"What's going on?" Zhenya asked, still oblivious.
"Nothing," Danil said, brushing it off. He glared at Peter. "Wait!" he mouthed, then continued, "So what do you need?"
"Mama, Slava, Rita and I need a place to stay for a few days. Well, Rita and Slava will be with us till Monday, then it will just be us two. Can we stay with you?" he asked.
It took a moment to register what his brother had just said. Danil sat up, serious now.
"What happened?"
Peter was still trying to get off of him, wincing and grunting as he finally got off of him, and moaned with relief.
"This is a bad time..." Zhenya said.
"No! No, not at all! It's fine," Danil insisted. "What happened?"
"Ira and I had a fight. Slava had an accident at school during recess. He fell from the monkeybars and broke his collarbone, and Ira-"
"What?" Danil asked, utterly shocked. "Is he all right?"
"He's traumatized, which is why I want to bring him and Rita with us so they can stay with us for a few days," Zhenya explained sadly. "Ira and I had a fight because I didn't find out right away... It's a long story, really, I'll explain once we get there... we can stay, can't we?"
"Of course! We have guest rooms, you are more than welcome," Danil said.
"All right..." Zhenya said hesitantly. "So... in a half hour?" he asked.
"That's perfectly fine. We'll see you then."
"Just to clarify... I interrupted the two of you... together, didn't I?" Zhenya asked, cringing. Danil cringed too, and sighed.
"Yes," he admitted. "But we were just finished anyway. So we'll see you in a half hour," he added, eager to hang up the phone and forget the humiliation.
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Post by Angela on Oct 28, 2007 3:34:40 GMT -5
Prior to the phone call, Evgeni and Maria spent some time packing various things they needed for lengthy stay, be it at a hotel or with Danil. Zhenya was still finding it hard to believe that this was happening. But he did not try to fight Ira, believing that would only make things worse. He was lucky to be able to take his children, really.
Irina stood outside Rita's bedroom door. How could she expect a one-year-old to understand what was going on? She couldn't. But she had to ask, for Zhenya's sake.
"Rita?" Irina walked in and knelt at her bedside. Rita was holding Disney's Sleeping Beauty, a storybook with sounds added. The blonde turned and smiled at her mother.
"Mama?"
Irina was quiet, thinking about what to say, how to put it in terms that she would understand. Meanwhile, she smiled and put her arm around her gently, and kissed her head.
"Malenkaya, Papa's leaving for a few days... Do you want to go too?" she asked. She didn't expect much of an answer.
Of course, the child only vaguely understood, and nodded. But even that was considerably easier than the next part...
"Malenkaya, it's just going to be you, Slavachka, Papa, and Babushka... I'm going to be here, I won't be with you. Do you understand?" Naturally, the child didn't give much of a response that showed she understood. Really though, all she understood was "Papa, Slavachka, and Babushka." Still, Irina didn't expect more, so she went about gathering some things.
Once she had Rita's things packed, some clothes, toys, books and movies, Irina went to Slava's room. The boy was sleeping peacefully, so Irina just went about gathering some things for him. She took the bags downstairs and asked Zhenya, who was sitting with the phone in his hand, "Is everything set with Danilka?"
"Yes... we can stay as long as we like," he said, still keeping the same awkward tone from the phone call.
"All right then. Slava's still sleeping, I'll go wake him and bring him and Rita down."
Zhenya sighed, rubbing his forehead again.He had suitcases by the door, to which Rita's and Slava's things were now added. Maria was in the kitchen gathering some tea, because she insisted on bringing some, though Danil had plenty. She went over to Zhenya and put her arms around him.
"It'll work out," she whispered. "You'll see, this won't last forever."
Tears were in his eyes and he clutched one of her hands and kissed it. Irina came down carrying a mildly awake Slava in her arms. The boy looked and reached out for his father, Zhenya immediately went to him and took him in his arms gently, kissing his head. He held him for a moment, just looking at Ira.
"I suggest you go," she said with a sigh, "before I change my mind."
"Change your mind about what?" he asked defensively as Maria held Rita in her arms.
"About you leaving," she answered simply. "Just go." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand, turned her back on him and just folded her arms. Zhenya looked down for a moment, then walked towards the door. Slava looked over at his mother, confused.
"Mama?" the first-grader asked tearfully. He didn't understand.
"Mama's not coming, malenki," Evgeni answered gently, making sure he could see his lips. "She is staying here, while we stay with Uncle Danil at his new house."
Rita meanwhile, started crying as Maria started walking out the door.
"Mama? Mama!"
Maria stopped and looked towards Ira, her hearrt aching. Ira went over and took Rita, just for a moment, cooing and gently rocking her as she calmed down, then Ira handed her back to Maria, and the girl stared at her mother as they headed once more for the door. She still called and cried for her mother, not understanding at all what was really happening. Maria did her best to comfort her and they got in the car and headed to Danil's.
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Post by Angela on Oct 30, 2007 13:50:45 GMT -5
Danil made the bed, got dressed, and Peter cleaned up a little bit in order to make the house presentable. Peter and Danil had moved out of Danil's old apartment in May. The new house was two and a half stories, with a large backyard by the woods. There were two guest rooms, a spacious master bedroom, a living room, a family room that served the purpose of a library and study room, which also doubled as an office if needed, a den which held the iconostasis, dining room, kitchen, and two and a half bathrooms, in addition to an attic, which was made up to be part bedroom, part storage facility, and a basement, a rather large one, with a pool table, bar, a tiny kitchen area, and a few chairs and a sofa, perfect for football games, since it also had a large television. The couple had found it by lucky chance, it was a foreclosure house, so it was cheap. They weren't sure why they would want such a big house at first, but Danil had not had much space before, and Peter wanted to spoil him.
"It must be pretty serious," Peter remarked about the fight. He wore a concerned expression on his face.
"I know... I just hope that it's not too hard on the kids." Danil sighed, washing the samovar for use later. Peter put his hands on Danil's shoulders and started kissing his neck.
"It'll be okay, you'll see," he said gently. Danil smiled.
The chimes started to sound, announcing Zhenya's arrival. Peter went and answered the door. Slava was in his arms, crying softly, Maria was behind them, carrying Rita, who was sleeping.
"Hey guys," Peter said gently, and gestured for them to come in. Zoloto had barked at the doorbell and rushed to the door, and was now sniffing Zhenya, excited to see him. "Zoloto, go play," Peter told her. "Just have a seat, make yourselves comfortable. Why don't I go get your things?"
"Thank you, we'd appreciate that," Zhenya said. The doorway led to the living room, where a plasma television was mounted on the wall above a fireplace, with burgundy wallpaper along the walls. Two lounge chairs, a sofa, love seat, various end tables with lamps and decorations, as well as nice round dark wooden coffee table were arranged in a nice formation throughout the room. Zhenya took a seat on one of the lounge chairs, and started to rock Slava a little to comfort him. Maria sat nearby on the love seat, humming softly.
"Hey, guys, I'll be in in a minute," Danil called from the nearby kitchen. "I'm just making some tea for us."
"Here, Mama, why don't I take Rita to one of the guest rooms so she can sleep more peacefully, and you can be more comfortable?" Zhenya offered. Maria shook her head.
"No, I think it would be best if we kept her with us. After all, poor thing doesn't understand what's going on."
"Good point." Zhenya got up from the chair and moved to sit beside Maria and Rita, stroking his daughter's hair. Peter came in with a few of the bags.
"I'll move these into some of the guest rooms in a second, just let me get the rest out of the car."
"Is there a lot?" Danil asked, coming into the living room with a platter of tea and sweets. He set the tray onto the table, then picked up the luggage that Peter had just brought in. "Why don't I move these for you? Does it matter where everything goes?"
"I think it might be best for Slava and Rita and I to be together," Zhenya suggested, "if that can be arranged."
"Hey, anything goes in this house. All four of you can stay in the attic if you like, or we can fit the kids and you into one of the guest rooms and Masha can have the other. They're right across the hall from each other, so it wouldn't be like you're really seperated."
"Guest rooms would be fine," Zhenya said with a smile, after exchanging a look with Maria, who smiled and nodded. Danil nodded and took the bags to the guest room down the hall and up the stairs. By the time he came back, Peter had brought the rest of the bags in.
"How's the big guy doing?" Peter asked, going over to Slava. "Poor thing. Is he in a lot of pain?"
"I think he's okay, physically, but mentally, he's really upset," Zhenya replied, coddling the boy. Slava had stopped crying by now and was looking around the new house's living room. He had seen it before, but not when it had all the furniture in it.
"Where's Vaska?" Slava asked. Peter grinned.
"Vaska is... I don't know where he is..." Peter looked around, and saw Danil coming towards them. "Dorogoy, you seen Vaska anywhere?" Danil laughed.
"Last I saw, he was on top of the TV in our room, swatting at a fly. I'm sure he'll be out in a little bit, once he hears everyone talking." He picked up the remainder of the bags, took them back, and returned with Vaska in his arms. He let him go and the cat went straight to Slava, who grinned and picked him up. "Be gentle, now, Slava," Danil advised. The boy had always been gentle, but it didn't hurt to keep reminding him. "How are you, Slavachka? Are you in any pain?"
"I'm okay," he replied, snuggling with the cat. Danil nodded and kissed his head, running his hand through his hair.
"I know what will make you feel a lot better. What do you say to a nice hot fudge sundae, with marshmallows?" Danil grinned when he saw Slava's eyes light up.
"With chocolate ice cream?" he asked. Danil nodded.
"You got it."
"Not too much sugar now, it'll be his bedtime in two hours," Zhenya pointed out sternly.
"Oh, Zhenya, have a heart," Danil said with a laugh. He went back to the kitchen and started making the sundae.
"All right, but not a lot, okay?"
Peter had the TV tuned to ESPN previously, now he had put on Nickelodeon, which was showing Spngebob. Slava loved this cartoon, so as he snuggled Vaska, he watched the TV broadcast. He turned to his father quizzically.
"What are they saying?" he asked.
"Oh! Sorry!" Peter slapped his forehead and pushed some buttons on the remote. Closed captioning came on and he laughed. "Sorry, Slava, I know you need that, I just forgot." Slava grinned, reading the closed captioning and laughing at the jokes.
"It's okay," he replied, laughing as Spongebob fell down the stairs in his pineapple house. He set Vaska down when Danil came with the sundae.
"Now, Slava, before you eat, you go wash your hands," Zhenya said, as Danil set the bowl on the table.
"Do you remember where the bathroom is, Slavachka?" Danil asked. Slava shook his head. "Come on, I'll take you." He took his hand and led him down the hall to one of the bathrooms, made sure Slava washed his hands thoroughly, then took him back to the living room. Slava climbed on top of his father's lap and began to eat his sundae, which had two scoops of chocolate ice cream, plenty of tiny marshmallows, whipped cream, a cherry, and of course, hot fudge. Danil smiled, seeing Slava content. Zhenya sighed.
"I told you not to give him a lot. He's going to be hanging from teh rafters in a few minutes."
"He'll be fine," Maria said with a laugh.
"How's Rita doing?" Danil asked, taking the samovar and pouring some tea for the adults. "Poor girl, she must be so confused about what's going on. What exactly is going on, anyway, Zhenya? How serious is this fight? You two aren't breaking up, are you?" he asked, concerned.
"Let's not talk about this in front of the kids," Zhenya said with a sigh, as he sipped a little of his tea. Danil nodded.
"I'm sorry. I know it can't be easy. I never thought it would come to this between you two-"
"Danil Andreievich," Zhenya warned, gesturing to Slava and Rita. Rita was still sleeping, but of course Slava was still awake and alert, and attentive despite his interest in the adventures of the absorbant little sponge on television.
"Of course, I'm sorry. So are you excited about Halloween, Slava? What are you going to dress up as?"
"A dementor!" he proudly proclaimed, excited.
"A dementor! Oh, scary!" Danil laughed. "Are you going to get a lot of candy?" The boy nodded.
"Hard to believe that's only a week away," Zhenya said with a chuckle. "You should see Rita's costume. She's going to be Dorothy. We have the dress, the apron, and the ruby slippers. She's going to look adorable!"
"That sounds so cute! Peter and I have all sorts of decorations, and we're going to turn the backyard into a haunted house. The candy will be on the padio. It should be really fun. We have audio CDs of scary sounds, and all kinds of props and decorations. Pete's a huge Halloween nut."
"I vant to suck your blood!" Peter proclaimed in a fake Dracula voice. Danil laughed, so did Zhenya, Slava stared at him as if he were crazy.
"So you're going to be a vampire then?" Zhenya asked.
"It's a surprise, but no, I'm not going to be a vampire. That was just a bit of Halloween humor," Peter replied. "I will be some Hollywood monster, I can tell you that much."
"I don't even know what he is yet, how funny is that?" Danil asked with a laugh.
"Ira was going to be the wicked queen from Snow White and hand out candy apples," Zhenya said with a sad tone in his voice.
"It'll be fine by then, you'll see," Peter insisted. Zhenya smiled, though it wasn't a real one.
"I'm not sure if I'm going to dress up as anything. I have no ideas," Danil said with a shrug. "Peter's suggested a lot of things, but nothing was appealing.
"Now he should be the vampire," Peter said with a snicker. "With that accent? Those gorgeous, penetrating eyes, that foreign mystique, the charm, he's a dead ringer for Lugosi! How about it, babe?" Danil laughed.
"You're kidding, right?" he asked. After a moment, he shrugged. "Maybe. It might be fun, perhaps I'd be the host of our little haunted attraction," he suggested. "I can greet everyone. "Velcome to our haunted house. Ve are happy to have you... for dinner!" He laughed as he spoke with an exaggerated accent. "No, that's not good." Peter shrugged while Zhenya and Maria laughed. Slava was just finishing his sundae and was smiling, a lot ov chocolate on his face. Zhenya wet a washcloth, and wiped Slava's face, chuckling.
"You can work on it," Peter said with a grin.
They spoke for a good while longer, about various subjects, but not about the fight between Zhenya and Irina, for Slava's sake.
"It's eight o'clock. Slavachka, you should get a bath and then it'll be just about time for you to go to bed."
"Aw, Papa..."
"Come now, malenki, let's get you washed," Zhenya said gently. Slava and Zhenya went to the bathroom and Zhenya prepared a nice warm bath, helping Slava to care for himself. Then they spent another half hour with the others, watching more television and talking. At nine, Zhenya took Slava into the guest room, where Rita was now sleeping peacefully. Maria had put her there while Slava was in the bathtub. Zhenya gently lay Slava on the edge of the bed, tucked him in tightly, kissed his forehead, and stroked his hair. Slava said his prayers, Zhenya read a story from him, then a passage from the Bible, sang a lullabye, and stayed with him for a few minutes while he slept to pray over him. It was about nine-thirty when Zhenya rejoined his family in the living room.
"How is he?" Danil asked.
"He's all right. I think I'll go to bed soon, so I can stay with him and Rita," he answered. Danil nodded.
"So what exactly happened between you and Ira?" Danil asked.
"I couldn't hear my pager or my cell when Ira, Mama, and Natasha tried to contact me to tell me what happened to Slava," Zhenya answered. "By the time I got there it was an hour later. I feel just terrible about it. She is upset at me because she feels I am neglecting her and the kids, and maybe I am. Maybe I have been selfish lately..." He sighed, sitting down on the love seat again. Maria put her arm around him.
"Honestly, I don't think he's being selfish. I think this was just a mistake, an accident. You couldn't have forseen it. I can understand Ira being angry. I've been there many times with your father."
"Papa never neglected me," Zhenya protested quietly.
"No, he neglected me," Maria agreed. Zhenya looked at her, his expression apologetic.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think..."
"It's all right. I think Ira is looking at this more from the point of view of a wife than a mother. True, you take her out on a weekly basis, but maybe she still feels frustration. Maybe even that is not enough for her. Maybe you need some time alone, a second honeymoon or something. A nice vacation, just the two of you."
"It does sound nice, but the school year just started..."
"And I'm here, I am certainly capable of caring for Rita and Slava," Maria pointed out. "You really should take her on a vacation that has just you two, and no distractions from the world outside. You both deserve that." Zhenya smiled a little, then frowned and sighed.
"There's really no chance if we're... 'seperated.'"
"Well, talk to her, throw the offer on the table. Show her how much you love her, show her how much you respect her. I think she'll like that." Zhenya smiled again, a hopeful look on his face.
"I'll talk to her. Maybe in a few days though, when she's had some time to cool down."
"That's a brilliant idea, Masha," Danil agreed. "We can help out too. So, that's what she's mad about? That you don't give her enough attention because you're away from her so much?"
"Not entirely. She also feels that even when I'm with her, my mind is concentrated on other things. I admit that was true in the past, but not lately. At least I've tried not to let other things come between me and my time with my family..." He shrugged. Danil nodded.
"I understand what she means though. Sometimes, you are concerned with some things that stress you out. We've all been there. But the key is, like with us, we simply shut it out of our minds the moment the other comes over to us. It's hard, really. We talk about things that stress us once in a while, but we try, most of the time, not to let the world take away from our time together. Pete and I love each other very much, and nothing is more precious than our time together."
"I suppose I should take some pages from your example," Zhenya said sadly. He chuckled. "Who would have thought a gay couple could have some things to teach a straight couple." Danil cringed.
"Zhenya, really..."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to be an insult to you. It was more an insult to me," Zhenya interrupted. Danil shook his head.
"Gays have the same problems as straights when it comes to relationships," Danil said.
"Except it's a bit more challenging for you I think, trying to find someone who shares your orientation," Zhenya pointed out.
"No, Zhenya, it's equally hard. Imagine, if you didn't have Ira, and had to start over. How do you know that the girl you're checking out isn't gay? Just think about it. It's not easy to find a mate, be you gay or straight. Neither has a clear advantage or disadvantage over the other."
"I'm sorry... I never thought of it that way..."
"You're still learning to cope," Peter piped up. "Your attitude can't go to 100% understanding overnight."
"I suppose. I'm sorry, I should be more considerate. After all, you are allowing Mama, the kids and I to stay." He shrugged and picked up Vaska, who was lounging on his armrest. Zhenya smiled as the cat purred contently.
"It's all right, Zhenya, really," Danil said dismissively. "You are upset, confused, you've said things to Ira that I'm sure you didn't mean and vice-versa. Not to mention the phone call earlier is bound to have... unnerved you," he added, blushing. Zhenya chuckled.
"You know it's actually funny looking back on it. I'm really sorry about that though."
"Hey, no way you could've known, man," Peter said with a shrug, an amused look on his face. "Danil didn't even know, really. We didn't plan it or anything, we just went with instinct."
"Ah, to be young and spontaneous without children to worry about," Zhenya joked with a laugh. "Enjoy it though, seriously. You never know when you might be interrupted and by whom. I've already deald with Rita and Slava barging in several times while Ira and I were intimate."
"That must have caught them off-guard," Danil said, a concerned expression on his face. "How did they react? What did you tell them?"
"I told them, well Rita didn't really comprehend, understandably with her age, but we showed her through gestures that everything was okay. With Slava, we told him a gentle version of the truth, that we loved each other and that was how parents express their love to each other sometimes. He seemed to understand. I just told him, 'Slavachka, I like holding and kissing your Mama, that is how we show our love.'"
"That's sweet, and he took it okay?" Peter asked. Zhenya nodded.
"Like I said, he seemed to understand. With Rita, we smiled at her and we told her we loved her and that it was all right. But thankfully, she didn't interrupt during anything really graphic, and we weren't really getting anywhere when she came in. So she didn't interrupt us in the heat of passion or anything. That was Slava unfortunately." He chuckled.
"Must have been embarrassing for the two of you," Danil said with a snicker. "Now I can tease you when you interrupt Pete and I."
"Incidentally, Slava did ask me if all grown-ups expressed their love the way Ira and I did." Zhenya chuckled and sipped some tea to distract himself from the embarrassing topic. "I told him that couples act this way often, if they both love each other. He then asked about you two, if you expressed your love this way." Danil set his cup down and looked at his brother expectantly.
"And?"
"I told him yes, and that there was nothing wrong with two people of the same gender doing that, as long as they loved each other," Zhenya said simply. Danil smiled, relieved. He and Peter were sitting on the sofa, and Peter put his arm around him when Zhenya said this.
"And he took that well?" Danil asked, still slightly skeptical. Zhenya nodded.
"He didn't seem to see anything wrong with it."
"I'm so glad," Danil replied with a relieved sigh. "And you really share that opinion?"
"You know I do, now," Zhenya answered, smiling lovingly at the couple. He finished his tea, then set it down. He took a Snickers from the dish of candy set out and nibbled on it. "You two are one of the most devoted couples I know."
"Thank you," Peter said with a nod.
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Post by Angela on Oct 31, 2007 16:58:57 GMT -5
"We're so happy that you feel that way, Zhenya," Danil agreed, clutching Peter's hand and leaning against his shoulder. "We've finally set our wedding date. With your permission, we would Slava like to be ringbearer. Would you object?" Zhenya grinned.
"I have no objections. I'm very proud of the two of you. I wish you every happiness. So when is the wedding?"
"April 15th," Peter said proudly. Danil and Zhenya smiled.
"A lovely spring wedding," Zhenya remarked with a nod. "It should be beautiful."
"It will be in the mountains of Vermont," Danil explained. "There aren't really any restrictions. We'll get the liscence, and have an official ceremony."
"In a courthouse...?" Zhenya asked, raising his eyebrows. Danil laughed and shook his head.
"That'd be fine with me, but Danilechka wants a big to-do,"Peter said with a sigh.
"I want a nice wedding outdoors, or in a pavillion or something. Something nice."
"But you won't be married by a priest, will you?" Maria interjected disapprovingly.
"Of course not, what priest would marry us? He's Catholic, I'm Orthodox-"
"And you're both men," Maria pointed out.
"Right. So that's why we're getting a justice of the peace to do it," Danil said casually. Maria looked at Zhenya, a doubtful look on her face.
"You're not 'okay' with this, are you?"
"I see no reason not to be," Zhenya answered. "They're not married in the church, they're not married in the church's eyes. It's great that they are legally allowed to marry and have the same rights and privelages that Ira and I have."
"But in the church's eyes, wouldn't the two of you be living in sin, and thus damned because you won't repent?" Maria asked. The couple sighed.
"That is the opinion of the church, yes. That is what they tell us. But we don't care. We're pious, good people, we are careful about our souls. But we don't want to sacrifice our happiness for the sake of a promise that may or may not be fulfilled," Peter answered.
"But happiness doesn't equal indulgence, love does not equal lust."
"That's enough, Mama," Zhenya said with a sigh. "Please, let's just let them live their lives. Judge not, lest ye be judged."
"'You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.'"
"Leave Leviticus out of this," Zhenya said with a sigh. "Honestly, I'm tired of this religious issue."
"Your father certainly wouldn't approve," Masha said disdainfully, shaking her head.
"Papa is perfectly fine with it," Danil protested.
"I was referring to Zhenya's father."
"Why the hell should we give a damn what he would think? He's dead," Peter pointed out, frustrated with the topic and the way the conversation was going.
"Thank you very much for reminding me of that, Peter," Zhenya said sarcastically, and, in order to keep himself busy, distract himself, and above all prevent himself from doing or saying something he would regret later, took the dirty dishes into the kitchen.
Danil put a hand to his mouth, glared at Peter and stood up.
"That was uncalled for, Peter," Danil said, and joined his brother in the kitchen. "Zhenya-"
"I'm fine," Zhenya lied, washing dishes with harsh scrubbing. Even without the brisk movements, it was clear his hands were shaking.
"Zhenya, he didn't mean it, please, don't get upset over this."
"Oh, no, why shouldn't I?" Zhenya asked sarcastically. "After all, I'm going through a difficult time in my life. I may end up getting a divorce, worry about who gets custody of the kids, how we'll settle property and asset issues. Oh, never mind that my father, who has always been my one greatest comfort, has been dead the past six years."
"Peter's not speaking out of frustration at you, Zhenya," Danil said gently, taking his hand away from a sharp knife in the water. "He's upset about Masha, and really it's niether one's fault-"
"Oh, not at all, Mama was just asking some simple questions, it is all right for Peter to get upset," Zhenya continued in the same sarcastic tone.
"Now Zhenya, I never said it was okay for Peter to say what he said. I agree it was uncalled for. But you and I know he didn't get upset because of the questions. It was her opinions that upset him, opinions that you, by the way, sided with Peter on." He sighed. "If things are going to be like this... maybe Masha shouldn't stay here." Zhenya glared at him.
"How dare you! You're telling me to throw my mother out?"
"No! I'm telling you that if she is not comfortable around us, then maybe she shouldn't be here, for your sake! You have enough problems right now, you don't need this to add to them." Danil let go of Zhenya's hand. Zhenya sighed and put the washcloth on the side of the sink.
"You're right. I don't need this."
Zhenya walked back into the living room and put on his coat. "Mama, go get the kids. We're going to a hotel."
"What?" Danil asked, starting to get upset.
"If this is the way things are going to be here, I don't want to stay."
"Stop! Zhenya, just stop. Wait." He turned to Maria and Peter. Peter was still sitting, arms crossed, glaring at Maria. Maria had stood up when Zhenya came into the room again and was looking at her son. "Now listen here. Peter, Masha, can you please try to get along? Set your opinions aside, Zhenya and the kids need us now. Please! Just let it go. Masha, I'm sorry about the nature of our relationship and I'm sorry that it does not mix with religion. Peter, you had absolutely no right whatsoever to make such a remark about Aleksei Kristianovich. You've never met him, so I can excuse the lack of respect to an extent, but not if it upsets Zhenya, which obviously it does. To be honest, I'm not thrilled about it either. I love you, but I knew Aleksei Kristianovich and loved him very much. He was very good to me. You've no right to disrespect someone's memory especially if you didn't know them personally. Zhenya, take your coat off. Why don't we all get some sleep. I'm sure we'll feel better tomorrow morning." With that, Danil turned off the television, which was tuned to Law & Order SVU, and stood with his arms crossed. "All I wanted was to help Zhenya in his time of need. I want him here. And I want Masha here too. What do you say?" he asked. "Can we try to get along?"
There was silence and an exchange of looks from everyone in the room. Finally, Peter sighed.
"I'm sorry, Zhenya. I didn't mean to hurt you." He looked at Masha apprehensively. When she said nothing, he continued. "I was just frustrated. It took so long to win you over, and I was afraid that she might be changing your mind. We really want you there, Zhenya. We're very excited about it. We were just trying to share our joy." Danil smiled and nodded, then looked at Masha. For what seemed like hours, she simply stared at everyone. Finally she spoke.
"I suppose I walked right into it when I gave my opinion on your... lifestyle choice. I'm sorry. Like Zhenya said, it's none of our business. Judge not lest ye be judged, and so on and so forth." Masha grew quiet again. After a moment, Danil spoke again.
"All right, now it's my turn to apologize. Zhenya, Masha, I never meant to imply that you weren't wanted here, or that the reason I suggested you leaving, Masha, was because you upset Peter. Really, that's beside the point. Zhenya does not need another fight on his hands, and I'm sorry for this one." He walked over to Zhenya and took his coat. "We really do want you to stay. I just thought that if Masha was giving you so much stress due to the fight just now, that maybe she should not stay here, because, as I said, you don't need this now. But Masha, you are more than welcome to stay. You are just as welcome as Zhenya and the kids. Please, please stay. Only if you want to," he added quickly. "I understand if you don't accept our apologies. You don't have to stay if you don't want to." Masha sighed, lowering her eyes.
"I'll stay. Zhenya needs me, and so do the kids. And really, you two... you are wonderful people," Masha said sincerely, looking from Danil to Peter with an understanding expression, "and you deserve more respect than I just showed you... No hard feelings?"
"We'd be inhuman if there were," Peter said with a chuckle.
"Then I suggest, since everything is settled, we get some sleep," Danil concluded.
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Post by Angela on Dec 5, 2007 3:59:30 GMT -5
Zhenya read some of the Bible, and some of The Lives of the Saints, said his prayers, and finally settled down to sleep. Rita was in the middle and Slava was on the edge of the large bed. He slept pretty well for a few hours, and was awoken by the sobbing of his daughter. He opened his eyes and saw Rita sitting up in bed, her face in her hands. Zhenya sat up and wrapped his arms around her and cooed to her.
"Shhhh, it's all right, Rita. Did you have a bad dream, little one?" Rita shook her head.
"Mama? Mama!" she sobbed.
Zhenya rocked her back and forth to console her. It was all he could think of at the moment.
"Rita, honey, I know you want your Mama... you'll see her in a few days..." He sighed. The one-year-old couldn't possibly understand. He looked as the door opened, startled. Maria stepped in and gently put her hand on his shoulder, then stroked Rita's hair.
"Is she all right?" Maria asked, whispering out of habit, despite Slava being deaf. Zhenya looked at her, a pleading, helpless look in his eyes.
"She misses Ira," he replied, equally quiet, and sad. Maria frowned and stroked Rita's hair. Kissing Zhenya's head, she gently picked Rita up and held her in her arms. The girl still sobbed and asked for her mother. "What should I do? Should I call her? Maybe that would help?" He sighed. "I hate to wake her though, considering it's after midnight..." he pondered, looking at the clock on the nightstand.
"I don't think she'd mind that much, if it's for Rita," Maria reasoned. "Why don't I call her?" Zhenya nodded, and Maria picked up the phone in the guest room, dialed their home phone number, and waited for it to be answered. It took a few rings, but finally the phone was answered.
"Allo?" asked a groggy Irina.
"Allo, Ira darling. I know that it is very late, but I must ask a small favor. Rita is awake, she misses you and is crying. Maybe hearing your voice will help her calm down again?" Maria asked. By now Zhenya held Rita, so Maria could have her hands free.
"Oh, poor Rita. Of course I'll talk to her," she answered guiltily. "I'm sorry that I'm not there... or we're not together..."
"It's all right. Here's Rita. Rita, you want to talk to your Mama on the phone?" Maria asked, handing the phone over to the girl.
"Mama?" the girl asked.
"Hi, honey. I miss you. Everything okay with you?" She spoke to her for a few minutes, knowing that Rita couldn't really understand, but also hoping that she would be comforted just by hearing her voice. It seemed to be working fine. The girl had calmed down, and was just liestening to her mother. Irina sang to her, and Rita was calm enough to settle down to sleep. Maria took her and tucked her in, and Zhenya walked into the living room so he could talk to Ira privately.
"I'm sorry to have woken you up, Katyusha," he said apologetically. "I didn't know what to do. I thought calling you would help. I'm glad it did." A deafening silence followed on the other end of the receiver. Finally, a soft sigh came.
"It's all right, Zhenyechka. Rita's my daughter. I want to comfort her just as much as you do. I'm sure if she were here with me, she'd be acting the same way and I would call you to talk to her," she assured. Evgeni sighed with relief. She didn't hang up on him. Thank God.
"I also want to apologize for the things I said earlier. I had no right..."
"Of course you had a right, Zhenya... Of course that doesn't excuse it... You understand that, don't you?"
"Of course. I never meant-"
"But I have to apologize as well. I didn't have a right to say what I said about the torture you went through for my sake. It's been killing me ever since you left. Can you ever forgive me for that, Zhenyechka?" she asked tearfully.
"I had no right to mention it," Zhenya replied with a sigh. "It was stupid of me... Ira, I know that we went through a lot to be together, and I love you so much so that I would gladly endure that torture again, but I never meant to use it to..." How did she put it? "...make you feel guilty about our situation."
"You were upset about it, I can understand. I'm sorry. It must have come as a shock... I've held it in for so long."
"I'm sorry that I haven't really been there as much as you'd like me to have been," Zhenya said with a heavy sigh. "I miss you. I truly, truly do."
"I miss you too. Oh, Zhenya... Why don't you and the kids come home tomorrow?"
Zhenya was stunned. It was what he had hoped for even before he left the house. Yet... was it really the right thing to do, accepting her offer? Maybe they really did need more time apart... If he came home, who's to say the problem would end?
"Katyusha... I would love to. But listen, maybe you're right. Maybe we do need some time away from each other. It's not that I don't want to come home, I just don't know if it's truly wise. You know what I mean?" he asked.
"Yes, I understand. I think it's best we wait until Monday, and see where that takes us. But keep me informed about the kids until then. Send them my love."
"I will. Why don't you get some sleep now, Katyusha? It's quite late."
"Yes, it is, isn't it? All right. Sleep well, my Zhenyechka."
Zhenya waited until she hung up, then turned the phone off and sighed, putting his head in his hands, setting the phone on the coffee table nearby. Why didn't he accept her offer? There was nothing he wanted more than to hold her in his arms. But he made the right decision, didn't he? Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Deep in thought, he didn't notice footsteps that were coming closer and closer to him. Finally a hand was on his shoulder, and he looked up, startled.
"Oh, Mama. Are the kids all right?" he asked.
"Yes, sound asleep." Maria sat down and put her arm around him. "You all right?" Zhenya sighed, leaning into her.
"Ira invited me back... and I said no."
"What?" Maria asked, looking at him in shock.
"I said that we needed some time apart, that she was right about that. But do you think I should have handled it differently? Should I go back tomorrow with you and the kids?"
Surprisingly, Maria replied, "No." Zhenya blinked in surprise. "I think it is wise to have some seperation time. It can help couples some of the time. I think you two are able to stick this out. If you give it some ttime, I'm sure the two of you will have a much better relationship when you get back together." Zhenya smiled.
"I hope you're right." He sighed and was quiet for a moment. "She apologized for the comment she made about my torture... I said I didn't have a right to bring that up, and thus it didn't need an apology."
"But it does," Maria disagreed, sighing herself. "She had no right to say such a thing."
"I shouldn't have brought it up!"
"One never gets over being tortured. It's always in one's mind, no matter how hard they try to forget or suppress it." She stroked his hair. "Your father was never the same after he endured it."
Zhenya stared at her, confused. "Papa wasn't tortured..."
"Yes, he was," Maria replied, looking down into her lap. Zhenya slightly pulled away from her and put his hands on her upper arms.
"When? Why? By whom?" he asked insistently. His eyes narrowed in anger and hatred. "Those monsters. Katya's parents did it, didn't they?" He stood up. "I'll kill them!" Before he could reach the phone, Maria took his hand.
"They had nothing to do with it. This was long ago, even before you were born." Zhenya sat down, looking at her with wide, horrified eyes.
"Dear God in Heaven... Why? What did they accuse him of doing?"
"It was 1980. Your father was in love with Anna Marakova."
"Anna Dupont," Zhenya confirmed, surprised. "I knew they knew each other long ago, but I didn't think he loved her..."
"He truly did. He tried to get her to love him the same way in return, but failed, like everyone else did. Then when on tour in Paris, Anna met Gaetan and fell in love with him. Alyoshenka never really got over what he considered to be losing her, though they remained friends. Finally, since he had no family, and at the time no love, he was convinced he had no reason to stay. So when they were in West Germany, he attempted to defect."
Zhenya felt his mouth drop open. His father was a patriot... at least in the sense that he loved his country. He'd often spoke about how unfair the government was, but he never thought of him to be such a coward that he would leave his homeland behind forever. Even Evgeni himself was reluctant to do the same thing, though he was able to return, unlike a common defector. Of course, Evgeni did not defect, he emigrated...
"He never did tell me how he tried it, but he said he thought about it for months after Anna's wedding. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore, and he tried to defect. But he was found out and caught by the KGB before he could get very far," Maria continued.
"So they tortured him..." Zhenya finished for her, horrified. He couldn't imagine his own father enduring things that he had endured six years ago. Maria nodded, rubbing Zhenya's back. He shuddered, remembering when that very back was the target of multiple straps, belts, canes, needles, cigarettes and cigars.
"Your father never got over it. From then on, he was a different man from the one I knew him to be. He was so carefree before, and yes, more outspoken. Upon his return to Moscow, they fired him from the Bolshoi, and then exiled him from the city. That is why we lived in Murmansk... Your father came to me that very night, in fact, asking me, imploring me, to go with him. He asked me to marry him. We had known each other for several months before this, so I accepted." She smiled sadly. "I had a crush on him back then. I could just watch him dance all day... I was only a waitress in the coffee shop across the street from the Bolshoi, but I would gaze through the windows and watch the dancers practice. I had such a clear view of your father. I had longed to be a dancer, but didn't start learning soon enough, and my weight was an issue. But I would go to the performances, and watch your father, oh, how I wished he would lift me in his arms like he did the ballerinas." She sighed longingly. "I miss him so much," she said, lowering her head. "He may not have loved me as much as he loved his precious Annas, but I like tto fantasize that he loved me just the same." She was quiet for a moment. Zhenya respected this silence, and waited patiently for her to continue. "I'm sorry, where was I? Oh, yes. So we went to Murmansk. You know the rest. Anya Andropova was visiting while on vacation, and Alyosha fell in love yet again, this time with her. She got pregnant, and gave you to us after she was done nursing you. Of course you were too young to remember. I think that was a blessing in disguise, though you missed her terribly at first."
"Did she ever miss me in those days?" he asked.
"Of course she did. She called every day and talked on the phone just like Ira did to Rita just now. But of course, I couldn't take it, being second place all the time. I told Alyosha that it was her or me..."
Zhenya smiled. "And he chose you," he said, proud of his father. Maria was quiet, and brushed a finger over her eyes.
"No, he didn't," she replied. Zhenya stared at her. How could that be possible? The three of them had lived together all his life! Why would she say his father didn't choose her?
"She rejected him, because she said she wasn't ready to settle down yet. So Alyosha... settled for me..."
"Oh my God," Zhenya said with a sigh. He bowed his head. "I'm sorry. I never thought Papa..."
Masha sighed. "I never really got over what he did... and when we moved to Petersburg, and he found her again..."
"It must have been infuriating for you," Zhenya said with a sigh, starting to see his beloved father in a new and unpleasantly bright light. Maria nodded sadly.
"I won't lie to you, I was so angry that eventually, your father and I did go through a time of seperation. It wasn't that long, but it was a time where we did consider divorce."
"Papa considered divorce?" Zhenya asked, putting his hand over his mouth. He would never have thought his father capable of such hypocracy.
"Admittedly it was my idea, my urgings, that finally caused him to consider it," Maria clarified.
"I don't remember any seperation."
"He was with you for the Junior European Championships in Helsinki when we decided this," Maria explained. "Remember, you stayed altogether a total of three weeks? That's why," she continued. Zhenya stared at her.
"I would have never known..."
"I wanted to be honest with you, for once," she said with a sigh. She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Zhenyechka... forgive me. I did such awful things to you..."
"Mama, you weren't well then," Zhenya insisted, though now he wasn't so sure. Could his father have... faked her condition? But that didn't make any sense... Why would he do such a thing? You're talking crazy! Papa would never do such an awful thing! Where would you get such an idea anyway? "Besides, Papa always managed to stop you before you did anything truly damaging to me, physically." He said this rather begrudgingly. All those years Maria had abused him... His father was his only savior from her. "You never really did any damage," he lied. Of course, the psychological damage was far greater than physical wounds could have been.
"Almost always," she said sadly. Zhenya blinked. "Almost always, your father managed to prevent me from doing you harm. But there was one time when he couldn't save you." She held his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. "Understand, I've never forgiven myself for it, and neither did your father, I'm sure. Not that I'd blame him." She held Zhenya close to her, stroking his hair, repeating over and over, "I'm sorry." Zhenya lingered in her embrace for a few moments, then pulled away a little.
"Mama, what did you do to me? I don't remember anything... Was I an infant?"
"No. You blocked it out." She sighed, shaking her head. "You have a habit of blocking such things. You were seventeen at the time."
"Seventeen?" he asked in shock. "But that would mean..."
"2000. It was a few days after Anya was killed. Your father was at work, and I was making soup. Do you remember? You said... that it tasted... strange," she said, her heartr aching just thinking about telling him this awful secret. Zhenya gasped.
"You tried to poison me..."
How could he ever forgive her for this? He could have died! How could she have been so heartless? How could he ever look her in the face again?
"I understand if you're angy," Maria said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I was anggry... Seeing your father so upset over what happened to Anya, I wondered if he would ever have acted like that if it were me instead of her. Deep inside I knew he never would have mourned my loss like he did hers. I was so angry, I took my rage out on the one remaining reminder of his adultery..."
"Me," Zhenya concluded with a nod. His throat was ight. Had she ever loved him? Had his father ever loved her? Everything was coming into question now. Was Nadya even his father's daughter?
"I'm so sorry," she said, starting to cry. "Admittedly, I wasn't in the right mind at the time. I know that's no excuse... But I love you, Zhenyechka, I truly do, and I'm sorry for what I did. I pray you can forgive me..." She was quiet for a moment, looking into her son's eyes imploringly as tears fell from her eyes.
Zhenya was quiet for what seemed like ions. He saw her crying, the only mother he ever knew, who had abused him so terribly all the years he had known her, save for perhaps the last four, now suddenly remorseful over nearly killing him, an event he did not remember whatsoever. How could he ever forgive this? It didn't matter how many times she said "I'm sorry." It was never enough. "Sorry" so often was not enough to make up for the wrongdoing of the past...
But could he blame her, for having such hatred?
"Did he ever love you?" he finally asked, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.
"I am sure he did... at one time," Maria replied with a sad sigh. "Maybe he always did. But he never seemed to love me, or express his love to me, as much as he did Anya Andropova and Anya Marakova."
"But you had Nadya..."
"Yes... I suppose he did love me at that time to have done that," she reasoned with a shrug. Zhenya nodded.
"Maybe he did love you all that time, and just didn't show it..." But then, if he felt that way, what about the ten-year-long affair with Anna Andropova? Zhenya sighed. "I'm sorry... I'm just-"
"Grasping at false hope to make me feel better," Maria finished, drying her tears. She had stopped crying now. But her request still went unanswered... or had it? Did he forgive her for her trying to kill him?
"I suppose that's right," Zhenya said with a sigh of his owwn. He bowed his head. "I never bothered to think of this whole thing through your perspective. I always looked at it through Papa's, even after you told me the truth about my maternity. But now..." He took a deep breath, and said, though he wasn't sure he meant it, "I'm sorry..."
Maria clutched his face in her hands.
"Evgeni Alekseievich, you have absolutely nothing, nothing, to be sorry for. I'm the one who abused you all those years. I'm the one who went crazy. I'm the one who nearly caused your death. I don't deserve forgiveness, but I am sorry. You have nothing to apologize for."
"Mama, I have hated you for all of my life, except the past few years. Now I realize I shouldn't have felt this way. For that I'm sorry."
"You should hate me," Maria said with a sigh, shaking her head. "After all that I did to you, after all that I said, all that I tried to do to you, I do not deserve compassion. I wouldn't blame you if you never want me in your life again."
At this, Zhenya was quiet. After a moment, he shook his head. "I think you've been punished enough... I forgive you," he said softly, and embraced her. Closing his eyes, he found himself saying, "I love you, Mama." This was perhaps the first time he had said these words to her and actually meant them. Maria sobbed, holding him in her arms tightly, savoring in one of the first real embraces that they'd ever shared.
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Post by Angela on Dec 20, 2007 18:07:32 GMT -5
Zhenya and Maria spoke for a few minutes more, and then the two went to their guest rooms, intending to go to sleep again. Zhenya lay awake for a while, watching his children sleeping peacefully, then went back to sleep himself. Maria, on the other hand, went back to sleep right away, because she was so tired.
The darkness of the guest room faded to reveal a dimly lit stage. Maria was standing in the wings, wearing a white dress. She looked around, first at the stage, then herself, stunned. She recognized the costume as Cinderella's. At first she didn't understand. What was going on here?
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth! she thought with a smile, as the music by Prokofiev played. The ballroom scene had just begun, and she went out to meet her Prince. She smiled, realizing that although she had so little experience in ballet, she still managed to make her entrance with grace that rivaled that of dancers that had been working far longer than she had. She strode out to meet her Prince, excited to see who it was... When she saw him, her face fell and she looked out towards the audience. The seats were empty, it was just the two of them. Good, she thought, as she watched him hold out his arms expectantly for her. In that case I can leave and not have a nagging conscience about it. Instead of going over to him and performing, she turned and went into the wings. Before she knew it, she was sobbing softly.
"Mashka..."
"I do not want to see you," she said, her back to him. She felt his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them affectionately.
"I know that's no ttrue," Aleksei whispered, kissing her neck. "I've missed you."
"Oh, you've missed me. You've missed me so mucn that it's taken you six years to come to me," Maria said sarcastically, and shied away from him. She faced him and glared. "Go back to your adultress. I'm sure she's wondering what happened to you." She paused and laughed cruelly. "And I always thought that if you broke a Commandment, and never repented, that you'd go to Hell."
"You honestly think I deserve to go to Hell?" Aleksei asked, heartbroken that his wife had such ill thoughts about him.
"I don't know," Maria replied simply, shrugging. "After what you did to me all those years... I might say yes."
Aleksei sighed. "Masha... For all the Hell I've put you through, I'm sorry. I was a terrible husband and I make no excuses."
"You're so like your son," Maria said with a sigh. "You think you can just say 'I'm sorry' and all is forgotten. I'm afraid it just doesn't work that way! For God's sake, Aleksei Kristianovich, you were so religious! You condemned all sorts of things, including adultery. You are such a hypocrite! How could you have treated me this way? You cast me aside without a second glance... like an old coat you rarely wore." She shook her head. "You have a lot of nerve, coming here, begging for forgiveness-"
"I don't want forgiveness," Aleksei said with a heavy sigh.
"Then why come? Is your whore unavailable?" Maria asked venomously.
"Don't call her that, please," Aleksei protested with a pained look in his face.
"You and I both know damn well that's exactly what she was," Maria pointed out, her tone more and more furious by the moment. "You spent more nights in your whore's bed than our own! Go, be with your whore. I'm sure you must be very happy with her." She folded her arms.
"She is not a whore!" Aleksei exclaimed, glaring at her. He sighed and turned away, then turned back to her, a pleading look on his face. "Masha, please. The last thing I came here for was to argue with you. Can't we please be civil for once?" he asked, exasporated.
"Why should I even stay here? Why should I even listen to you? How dare you come to me, Aleksei Kristianovich, after what you did to me-"
"Oh, indeed?" Aleksei asked venomously. "After what I did, eh? Well, what about everything you did to me? To Zhenya? To Nadya?"
"I never laid a hand on my daughter! How dare you suggest such a thing!" Maria growled indignantly.
"You hurt her just the same. She loves Zhenya. Everytime you hurt him, tried to hurt him, or fought with him,, you hurt her. In fact every time you fought with me over him, you hurt her. It nearly killed her watching what you were doing to him. And what did he do to deserve it? He was born to the wrong mother." He shook his head furiously. "You constantly rave about how much hell I have put you through, but you seem to have forgotten how many times Zhenya barricaded himself in his room because he was terrified of what you would do to him if you ever got to him. How much stress had you put on my heart? I tell you, my heart ached so much it was no wonder I died as young as I did, disease or no."
"Oh, so you're saying it's my fault you're dead? Who was it that would 't see a doctor? Who was it that wouldn't even tell Gaetan about your condition even though he probably could've saved your life?" Maria snapped. "You dug your own grave, Aleksei Kristianovich. No one else did it for you."
Aleksei sighed. "You know what? You're right, okay? You're absolutely right. I should have sought medical attention sooner than I did. But with everything that was going on in our lives at the time, with Zhenya in trouble and Nadya recovering from sickness, it just didn't seem as important as the welfare of our children."
Maria gave a sigh that almost sounded like a sob. "Our children... Yes, they needed us. But I also needed you. When have you ever really been there for me? Just for me?"
"As much as it apparently has slipped your mind, Maria Ilishina, I have always been there for you when you needed me."
"When I was in crisis, when I was having breakdowns, yes, I remember, but what about when I was not in a state of mental distress? What about when I was completely normal? You have only been there for me a fraction of that time." She looked at him pleadingly.
"How soon you forget our anniversaries," Aleksei said gently, touching her cheek which was now damp with tears. "I was always there for you then. Your birthdays, your sisters' birthdays, every special occasion that you were involved with, I was the one helping you with them." He kissed her forehead. "Masha, I am sorry for committing adultery, and for not being there for you as much as you would have liked, but with all due respect, I was there for you when it truly mattered, and like it or not, there were times when I did treat you with love, even when I was seeing Anya. I know it's hard to believe, but I truly do love you."
"But the amount of love you have for me is nowhere near that you have for Anya, is it?" she asked skeptically.
Aleksei sighed. "I'm sorry, Masha. The love I have for you may not have been the same in life as it is in death, but I have always felt a special place in my heart for you. You are the mother of my daughter, and although we had our share of troubles, we also had our share of good times as well. You just chose to forget them. But Masha, my rose, I did not come here to hurt you, or to fight with you. I came here to see you, because I missed you, and this sadly may be my last visit to you."
Maria stared at him, tears welling up in her eyes. "Why last? This is your first..."
"I came here for a very specific reason: to tell you that I was an awful husband." He chuckled, in spite of the depressing statement he'd just made. He stroked her hair as Masha blinked in surprise.
"Well... with al.l due respect, I suppose it couldn't have been easy, dealing with me, in the condition I was in... the manic episodes and such..."
"I've convinced myself that that's no excuse. Regardless of your condition, I should have been more considerate of you, of our children. I'm sorry for cheating on you. It was a despicable act of cowardice on my part."
"No it wasn't," Masha disagreed with a sigh. "I'm sure any man would not want to be with me all the time after what I was like at the time... I was awful to you, wasn't I? The children too... Well, at least I was awful to Zhenya, and that upset Nadya... just as you said..."
"The important thing is that I am here to make amends in the small way that I can now, by saying to you what I should have said many years ago. Mashka, you are a fine woman, a loving and strong one. You're beautiful, intelligent, and fun to be with. I did not deserve you, and you didn't deserve a despicable husband like myself. You deserve someone who will be there for you for always, to give you all the love you crave and deserve. Maria Ilishina, I want to let you go. Likewise, you must let me go, for unless you do that, you'll never really be free of me, free to love someone who deserves your love more than I did. Please, Mashka. Go out into the world, make friends, and I'm sure you'll find someone who deserves your love and affection." He gently tilted Maria's face up to look at him, and then he planted a gentle kiss on her soft, thin lips. Upon pulling away a little, he stroked her cheek, and her hair, then caressed her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness and I don't even want it. But I am sorry for being a bad husband to you."
Maria was crying now, silently. She embraced her late husband and buried her head in his chest, dreading the moment when this would end. It ended all too soon. Aleksei pulled away after a minute, but still held her hand.
"Maria Ilishina Smolenskaya, may I have this last, final dance?" he asked, caressing her cheek. Maria nodded and the two made their way to the stage.
Prokofiev's music once again filled the theatre, and Aleksei took the excited woman in his arms, in a moment that she considered was long overdue. The two danced the pas de deux from Cinderella, and after that, The Nutcracker, Sleeping Beauty, La Bayodere, Copellia, Giselle, and finally Swan Lake. It was the happiest experience in Masha's life. After Swan Lake, Aleksei held her in his arms.
"Goodbye, Mashka, my darling wife. I pray you think well of me. May God bless you and smile upon you always. I love you."
With one final kiss, the stage faded into darkness, and very slowly, so did Aleksei.
"No... come back to me..." Maria sobbed, holding out her arms to where he'd just stood. But all that replied to her was silence and blackness. She closed her eyes as the darkness seemed to overwhelm her, and opened them again, to a lighter darkness, but still darkness nonetheless. She saw a faint light in the southwest direction, and she got up, intending to head toward it, only to realize that she knew where she was. The light was the hall light. She had left the door ajar in case Zhenya or her grandchildren needed her. The dream was over.
"No... Come back!" she sobbed, heartbroken. She buried her face in her pillow, longing to fall back to sleep again, and thus seeing her husband, and dancing with him like she'd always longed for.
For a while, sleep evaded her. She just lay in her bed, crying softly. Finally, sleep came, but no dreams. Truly, his first visit to his wife was indeed his last.
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