by Bethany-Kris
“Maybe if Katee felt safe and secure enough to disappear ... even if for a while, I wonder if that means the circumstances that caused her to appear in the first place have disappeared, too? You see,” the woman murmured, folding her hands neatly into her lap, adding quieter, “Awareness of the identities often brings with it memories ... be they shattered, or not your own, as you say. Some are still there. Maybe yours aren’t, but I feel like I should ask. Do you remember what happened to you, Karine?”
She turned away, then, her throat was still dry, but it wasn’t quite the same. The excitement she felt a moment ago had quickly turned into fear.
Why did Michelle have to ask that?
Why?
Things were going so well, too. Fear wouldn’t let her speak, though, it never had.
“I don’t want to talk about monsters today,” Karine replied in a whisper.
ELEVEN
Claire arrived the day after Karine’s first session with the psychiatrist. Roman didn’t want to make a big deal of it, in fact, he didn’t even want to introduce his mother as a nurse, and spook Karine. That wasn’t why he wanted his mother there to begin with, even if it was a benefit.
Then, Karine’s face had brightened the moment Claire walked into the lodge, and he introduced her as, “This is Claire, my mother.”
He hadn’t been entirely sure of just how much information was given to his mother about Karine, but didn’t seem like an important thing to worry about when the two first meet. The connection was instant—Claire’s natural kindness and maternal presence had always surrounded her like an aura someone could feel when they were close enough to her. Karine was sucked in like a magnet.
Roman wondered if that was because of the absence of a real mother-figure in her life. Even though she had a caretaker who clearly took over some aspects of a mother, he didn’t quite think that was the same. Karine probably just wanted someone she could learn from—who would have nurtured her, and kept her safe the way a mother does.
He shouldn’t have worried about Claire’s arrival at all, honestly. Karine was staring, her eyes wide open and excited, and instantly a smile spread on her face that made Roman nervous.
The only true model of love that he had witnessed was what existed within the relationships of his family—his mother and father, grandparents. That didn’t mean Roman had ever been able to grasp what it felt like, but the way Karine’s smile formed so brightly, making his heart race with a nervous happiness, when he introduced her to his mother might have been the closest thing to him finally understanding it.
Love.
Or what it meant to be in love.
Roman didn’t really have time to work through the realization because in the next second, he was watching his mother throw her arms around Karine in a welcoming hug.
“And you must be the beautiful Karine I’ve been hearing so much about,” Claire said.
He was once again reminded how different Karine and Katina were when she sunk willingly—and with a wide smile—into the embrace. But then again, he couldn’t say he had ever seen Karine hug Masha that way, either. So, wholly.
Maybe it was just his mother, and the effect she had on everyone around her.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know very much about you,” Karine admitted as the two pulled away, and Roman stayed a step or two back from then, “but it’s nice to meet you.”
Claire laughed at that, reaching for Karine’s hands to clasp tightly with her own.
All Roman could do was stand back and watch them, a little on edge because he’d already witnessed new things and change could be hard on Karine. Yet, neither of the women seemed to notice his presence in the room, content to greet one another whether he was there or not.
“For some reason, my son likes to keep me a secret,” Claire said with a roll of her eyes, and a teasing grin thrown Roman’s way.
Karine’s smile grew even wider at that, finally turning to face him. “Well, you and I have that thing in common, then.”
It still astonished Roman how Karine managed to have a sense of humor in the middle of the chaos that was currently her life. That wasn’t easy, but it spoke to her character more than he thought she even realized. She was stronger because of it.
What a fucking shame.
He thought she should know it.
• • •
They had lunch together that was prepared by his mother—if she was there, she had to cook—and enjoyed the meal in the sunroom where Karine and Claire managed to thoroughly make him feel like the third wheel. The entire time. Not that he really minded. Roman was just glad to taste a home cooked meal, made by his mother. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to eat her food. God knew there was nothing like his mother’s cooking.
After lunch, the psychiatrist, Michelle, who had agreed—or rather, been assigned—to remain at the lodge for the duration of Karine’s isolation suggested that she take Karine for a walk. He wasn’t fucking keen on that idea, as it was better for him to assume the woman’s intentions than just trust what she said. Regardless of what they might be. She was there to help Karine, blackmailed, yes, but she would still be paid well for her time in the end, beyond just her brother’s debts.
Nonetheless, she was there to help. He had to keep reminding himself of that, even after Karine agreed to the private walk.
There would always be bulls keeping an eye on Karine at all times, even when she was just going for a walk on their grounds. So really, he didn’t need to be paranoid, but he couldn’t help himself. He had never worried about someone—not like this—as much as he did for Karine.
It was constant.
Festering, almost.
Roman decided to give her some time alone with Michelle, while he stayed back to help his mother with the dishes. Or rather, his mother made the suggestion but when she did so, it really didn’t come off like he had a choice. Besides, he wasn’t stupid. Michelle had a job to do that was imperative to Karine’s well-being and recovery, and this was a part of the reason why they were there in the first place.
His foolishness was not.
Standing together in the kitchen, side by side at the sink, he dried while his mother washed—something that reminded him of his childhood. Despite the help his mother always had in the form of maids, and even a chef at times, she still liked to wash her own dishes. Especially after a meal.
Roman did, too.
They had spent a lot of time as a family at the Vermont lake property when he was growing up. Over the years, they had extended and added to the lodge itself to turn it into a massive mansion-like structure that still retained the look of a log cabin in the middle of the woods. Only a big one. It was supposed to be a home-away-from-home for them, and the Avdonins had achieved exactly that.
Five families could comfortably fit inside the home and live in peace with room to spare, and across the lake, a smaller lodge was owned by close friends of his grandfather.
So, the decision to bring Karine to Vermont was an easy one. While a war may rage outside, she would be safe here. Or at least, Roman hoped she would.
“You know she has every chance of getting ... I’m not sure better is the right word, but—well, it’s the best I have.”
His mother’s off-handed comment interrupted his thoughts, making him blink to focus on her again. She gave him a soft smile of understanding. Like she knew what was on his mind—Karine. Her words also served to let him know she did have a bit of an idea about Karine’s overall situation, and not just minor details.
Good.
His father saved him that conversation.
“Better is as good of a word as any, Ma,” he returned with a shrug. “She’s in a better place as it is. And yeah, I’m hopeful even if nothing says I should be. Michelle Yang is one of the top in her field. If she can’t help Karine, then I don’t know who can.”
“You understand, though, that it depends very strongly on whether the patient wants to do their part in recovery and healing. It doesn’t
matter how much money you throw into care, or what kind of doctor you have on hand, they have to want it, too. Do you feel like she does?”
“I think she does, most of the time it seems like she does. It’s not ... it’s not a clear path, not every day is the same, you know?”
Claire smiled at him warmly, and with just that look alone, the kindness of his mother dragged him in like a magnet, too. Undoubtedly the best soul being he knew to be genuine, and loving. Unlike his father, and most men in their life, his mother was always willing to give people a chance. She found the good in the bad, actively creating silver linings of her own making whenever she needed to do it. There was no better suited and qualified person to keep an eye on Karine when he did have to finally leave ... he took solace in that.
It helped.
A little.
“DID manifests itself in a variety of ways, which is why it is so difficult to treat. As it is with most mental health issues, the disorder can be unique from person to person, but especially so with this disorder. So, recovery techniques and timelines all depend on the person’s individual situation—some people never lose their alters while others—”
“Michelle explained a bit of that,” he said. At his mother’s questioning stare, he added, “Karine asked me to sit in on her first session.”
Not that he would have given anyone a choice. Maybe the illusion of one while he stood directly outside the open door. Karine was his top priority. No excuse.
“Ah,” his mother murmured in a low hum, and he recognized that tone. It was the same one she was careful to use whenever she would be delivering bad news, and didn’t want to cause alarm. Like the time she told him his dog had died. “Well, I wonder if her situation is trickier. Considering what her life must have been like hidden away, untreated with no real care or help ... the circumstances that caused the disorder.” Claire sighed, shaking her head but still managing a smile. “Well, those are all things she has time to deal with now, right?”
Karine’s first session with Doctor Yang had certainly left him feeling inspired about their situation. He found himself more reassured as his mother spoke that he was doing the right thing here. Even if he was in over his head.
“I don’t know what to expect from here, really, and I’m sure I’ve taken on more than I can handle,” he admitted, though it was the hardest thing he’d had to do. Mostly because it was more than just Karine’s DID—that was only one part of the equation of unknowns around her.
And him.
Them.
Was there even a them to begin with?
There it was—yet another unknown to leave him feeling unsure of himself, or everything else. Either way, Roman felt fucked. He didn’t show the mess of his feelings to his mother. She didn’t need to know, but he’d be a damn liar if he said she didn’t already just by staring at him.
She was his mother, after all.
Claire nodded.
“I’m not sure if you want to hear it, but for the record, I do think you have given her the best chance by bringing her here ... the doctor, too. All of it, Roman. I’m sure any of it is better than what she had.”
Claire turned the faucet off, then, and dried her hands on the towel he’d been using for wet dishes, before turning to her son. The pride he found staring back from her surprised him, but left him confused, too. He couldn’t understand what his mother had to be proud of where he was concerned.
“She’s also here because I fucked up again,” he told Claire.
Because even if she didn’t know those details—she hadn’t said one way or another—he did, and that was enough.
“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit, baby,” his mother replied with a soft pat of her palm against his cheek.
He couldn’t remember the last time she’d called him that, and his chuckle hid the choked edge to his words when he said, “Been a long time since I was a baby, Ma.”
Claire didn’t miss a beat. “You’re always my baby.”
Right.
Moms were moms.
“Yes,” she added after a moment, giving him a nod, “you’ve taken on more than you can chew, or rather, more than you’re used to, but it’s one bite at a time, Roman. That’s how you eat an elephant. A single bite at a time.”
If only that analogy applied.
“Except I’m not dealing with the same kind of shit I’m used to here.”
“If there’s anyone who can bring that girl out of her dark place—it’s you. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She trusts you. God, she looks for you even when you’re in the same room. That is huge for someone with a complex sense of self like she must have. To find someone they can trust completely, think about it.”
Roman did.
He didn’t want to, though. Self-doubt was a real thing, and he’d been battling it more often than not lately. He wasn’t proud of that.
Their gazes drifted to the kitchen window over the sink as Karine and Michelle came into view. The two women walked the trail that weaved throughout the dense trees at the rear of the property. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but the way she walked with her shoulders loose and her hands gesturing at the leaves above, he knew she was okay.
Christ.
He wished that helped his heart, or the worry still drumming deep. Here he was worrying about Karine’s reaction when he left, but how was he supposed to deal with it if this was how he felt when she was just outside?
“Your father was right,” his mother said, breaking through his thoughts again. “She’s just ... she seems so fragile.”
He said nothing to that, he knew better. Karine was much stronger than she appeared, even if she was breakable, too. He’d learned that on his own, and he honestly believed it was better for others to do the same. They’d have a better respect for Karine, fragile or not.
“Thank you for doing this, Ma,” he said instead. “For being here.”
Claire gently brushed her fingers on her son’s cheek, and he pulled her in for a hug. He’d stolen a quick one earlier, but this was different. Longer. Tighter, with her hand sweeping his back like she’d done so many times before. Fuck, he’d missed his ma. So much.
She laid her head on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of his mother’s head.
While she drummed her fingers affectionately on his chest, she told him, “You know I would do anything for you, Roman. You’re mine. I love you. That’s what people who love us do.”
• • •
His mother left him in the kitchen, saying she wanted to have a bath and call Demyan. He’d rolled his eyes at that—remarking at how they were going to spend hours talking on the phone just because they would be apart for a while.
“I’m sure you’re starting to understand it yourself. As they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder,” Claire had replied, giving her son a happy wink as she left.
And that, in a nutshell, was his mother.
Roman cracked open a can of beer from the fridge and made his way to the front porch, knowing good and damn well he’d opened up too much to his mother maybe. It wasn’t like he screamed share the feelings, but then again, she could read him like a book. He didn’t really regret what he told her, not when he needed someone to listen.
The front veranda was his favorite part of the house. It overlooked a hill on one side, and the lake waiting at the very bottom.
He had spent hours here, drinking with his grandfather, toughening his liver, Anton once told him, when he was a teenager. Just the thought of Anton made him want to speak to the man. His grandfather would have all the answers, or at the very least, he’d say what Roman needed to hear.
He made a mental note to call him soon, just as Karine and Michelle appeared at the bottom of the hill. They’d taken the trail down and around fast.
He noticed, then, so fucking aware of how his heart always seemed to quicken every time Karine came into view. Michelle was already walking away, headed towards the other end of the large lodge where
she was being housed. He’d given her the option of using the smaller property across the lake, but she opted to be in-house with Karine to get as much time in with her as possible.
Karine looked to be in a better mood now—she smiled with a wave at him from the bottom of the hill. He considered going down the path and meeting her halfway, but he wanted to watch her walking towards him. Wanted to focus on the way her hips swayed sensually in that flowy yellow dress she was wearing. Even the way the gray shawl she’d taken outside draped the delicate line of her shoulders. Or how her hair blew in soft waves behind her from the cool breeze.
He could get used to this.
Watching Karine.
From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the bulls at the front of the house, tucked off to the side near a bush. The guy had been on the phone, but now he was putting it away and walking towards Roman, too.
“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbled under his breath.
What next?
Just when he was settling in to enjoying this scene with Karine, someone had to interrupt it.
Peter hurried to Roman, but Karine was still only halfway up the hill. He waved at her to make sure she knew he wasn’t trying to blow her off.
“What the fuck is it now?” Roman asked, not trying to hide his contempt at all.
The bull was unaffected. That should have been bad sign number one.
“You have to hurry up here,” the man replied.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve just spoken to Marky. He’s been trying to get in touch with you directly, but your phone’s been turned off since you got here, basically. They need you back at Brighton Beach pronto. You’re going to have to leave as soon as possible.”
The fuck?
“Says who?” Roman asked, narrowing his eyes at the man. He was also aware of Karine edging closer. This was not a conversation he wanted to have in front of her.
“The FBI,” the guy replied. “Apparently.”
Roman threw a nervous glance in Karine’s direction, just to check how close she was, but thankfully, she was still out of earshot. “What do you mean the FBI?”