by Lily Foster
All three of us were mourning now, and they both joined me when I did my second shot.
“How is Jake handling it?”
“He is a wonderful husband.” She patted my hand. “And that’s nothing to do with you, Dylan. You know we were very fond of you as well.”
I’d wager Mr. Mazur didn’t agree with that last statement, and who could blame him?
“I don’t know how he’s still standing. He insists on doing almost all of her care by himself. He will shoo me away, asking me to tend the children when it’s time to exercise her muscles, bathe her¸ or give her the medications. I think he wants every last minute with her he can steal.”
“It is good,” Mr. Mazur chimed in. “He has made a great success of the business. So now he has people who can manage the projects. He wants to be home, for Kasia and for the children. It gives Kasia comfort to know they have such a good father.”
I nodded. “That must be a comfort to her. How old are they?”
Mrs. Mazur smiled sadly. “Jakub is eleven, Tomasz is nine, Rachel is seven and Milo is six.”
“Milo? I like that name.”
“Yes, they named him after my father, Milosz,” she said. “And I have to say that given the situation, the children are fantastic.” Her finger traced the edges of the cross that hung around her neck. “Kasia has prepared them well. I don’t know if I could be so honest with my children the way she is. But it’s better, you know?” She smiled and let out a soft laugh. “That Rachel, so like her mother. The other day she said to me, ‘We will be all right, Babciu. We are lucky. We have Daddy, we have you and Dziadzia, we have Michal and Sophia, Auntie Karolina, Tomasz and Isabel, Alex and Henry.’ On and on she went, naming every single person in the family.”
“Kasia has been drilling that into their heads,” her father said. “Making sure they know that they’ll always have people to take care of them, that they’ll never be alone.”
“She’s amazing.” They both nodded in agreement.
“And Rachel adores Veronica,” Mrs. Mazur added as she looked towards the stairs with a far off look in her eyes. “The same way Veronica and Olivia adored Kasia.”
“I remember that Christmas. Those two ambushed me,” I said, laughing. “I think they were fascinated with anyone who had anything to do with their Kasia. They idolized her.”
“Oh, she loved them. The loss of my sister and Olivia still breaks her heart, but I’m thankful that we have Veronica at least.”
My chest hurt, the thought of Veronica suffering loss was painful. “They died?”
Mr. Mazur poured another shot for himself and for me. “Might as well be dead.”
“Don’t say that!”
“You know I don’t mean it,” he said, shaking his head. “And you know I don’t blame your sister for anything.”
Mrs. Mazur looked to me. “My sister and I, there’s been…What’s that word, a rift?”
“Veronica’s father decided we were no longer family after he found out Aleksander is gay.”
“Alex is gay?” I sputtered, wide-eyed, nearly choking on my shot. “I didn’t see that coming.”
Mr. Mazur laughed. “Neither did I!”
Kasia’s mother’s look was mournful. “I can’t understand people who judge, who hate other people in that way.”
Mr. Mazur looked to the stairs, lowering his voice. “Veronica’s father is a foolish and ignorant man. Always was.”
“Does he know that Veronica is in contact with you all?” The thought came to me. “She works for Alex. Does her father know?”
“I don’t think he cares,” Mr. Mazur said. “He kicked her out when she was seventeen. What kind of man kicks his own flesh and blood out onto the street?”
“So where does she live?”
Mrs. Mazur answered but didn’t look one hundred percent sure. “She lives in a spare room at Kasia’s on the weekends and then she stays with a classmate during the week when she’s in school.”
“Oh.” I decided to leave it alone.
“So tell me,” Mrs. Mazur said, taking my hand, “how are you, Dylan? How has life turned out for you?”
“Good,” I said, without happiness or conviction. And her bullshit detector was spot on—Kasia definitely inherited that from Mama. She looked at me with pity. “I’m married, no children yet. I still live in the city, working at Cole Industries.”
“You’re being modest,” Mr. Mazur said. “I read the Times. You run the company, no?”
“My dad is still the CEO, but he’s been stepping away.” Needs time to fuck his thirty-year-old nutritionist. Bet my mother regrets getting him onto that health kick now.
“You were always a hard worker, Dylan. A great quality.”
“Thanks, Mr. Mazur. That means a lot to me.” I had to work myself up to asking, “Do you think she might want to see me? I…I’d like to see Kasia before—” I was mentally kicking myself for that last word. “I mean, can I ask Jake if it’s all right?”
“Let me talk to Kasia.” She looked to her husband, seeking his opinion. Whatever passed between them made her say, “I think she would like to see you.”
“Thank you.” I suddenly felt awkward, like an intruder. “I guess I should go.”
“Take care of yourself, Dylan.”
“And thank you for bringing Veronica home,” Mrs. Mazur added. “You did the right thing bringing her here.”
My hair reeked of cigarette smoke and my eyes felt like they were glued shut from caked-on mascara. Someone was stroking my hair and whispering, “It’s ok,” and those simple, gentle words made me start to cry.
“Little angel. You’ll stay here now. Everything is all right.”
I opened my eyes to see my aunt looking down on me, smiling. “Good morning, my sweet.”
“Ciocia?”
Oh shit, how in the hell did I get here last night?
“Take a shower and come downstairs.” She was smiling but disapproving when she said, “I couldn’t get all that eye makeup off last night.”
“How did I get here?”
“Dylan Cole brought you here. You know each other now?”
I sat up with a start. “Mr. Cole brought me here?”
“Yes, Dylan…Kasia’s old boyfriend. You and Olivia used to climb all over that poor boy. Well, that was a long time ago.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dylan brought you here last night. He said he saw you at your job?” She shot a disapproving look towards a chair in the corner of Kasia’s old room that had my uniform dress laid over it. My work-issued hooker heels were on the floor nearby. “I didn’t know you worked in a club.”
“I—”
I was at a loss for words. Kasia’s old boyfriend? Mr. Cole was Dylan?
“No, shh…We talk later. You take a shower now and I’ll start breakfast. Kasia’s not expecting you today.”
“But it’s Saturday. She needs me.”
“Sophia is there with the boys. They’ve got it under control. We’ll go there for dinner later. You’ll help me cook. Yes,” she said, answering for me.
When my aunt left, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand as it vibrated with an incoming text. There were no less than ten messages from Nell. I tapped out a quick reply, assuring her I was safe and with my family. The shrill sound of her ringtone blared, a fast-paced Arctic Monkeys song that set my head to throbbing.
“Good to know you’re alive, bitch!”
“I’m sorry, Nell. Last night was a disaster.”
“Devon said you left with someone. It wasn’t that jerk I pulled off you earlier, was it?”
“No, a family friend spotted me. I guess he thought I was wasted so, yeah, he took me back here and now I’m completely mortified. My aunt and uncle probably think I’m in need of a twelve step program right now.”
“Please, people our age do that every weekend. You never let loose. And I feel like a crappy friend because I didn’t keep an eye on you. I hooked up with that hot gu
est DJ and woke up this morning at his place in a panic when I realized I’d left without even checking up on you first! I’m awful!”
She was so loud. I tipped the phone to the side, lowering the volume. “I’m fine, Nell, but thanks for being concerned. And don’t worry, I won’t be doing a repeat of last night.”
“Yeah, Devon said you quit. I don’t blame you.”
“What?”
“You quit.” She burst out laughing then. “You mean you don’t remember?”
“Uh, no.”
“Aw, honey, I’m sure they’ll take you back.”
I massaged my scalp with my free hand as bits and pieces of last night replayed in my mind. I closed my eyes tight when an image of me dancing with two guys at once popped up. I was sandwiched between them, one at my front and one at my back.
I choked out, “No, Nell, I think it’s for the best…I’ll give you a call later, ok?”
Rolling over to face the wall, I let the tears fall as I thought of Dylan. How much of last night’s performance did he see? I couldn’t remember anything after taking that third shot. I imagined him watching in judgement, shaking his head in disgust as I danced like a stripper, teetering on my heels in that awful dress. I struggled to remember seeing him, talking to him—to remember anything—but I couldn’t. Please, I prayed to no one particular. It was an empty plea, born of desperation and fear. Had I gone and done something shameful, or did I say anything to Dylan that revealed how I truly felt about him?
I stood under the stream of hot water until my skin was red and puckered in a failed attempt to wash the events of last night away.
Kasia and Jake’s was a beehive of activity. Jake, my uncle and my cousins were busy nailing the wooden beams of what would be a pergola on the side of the house. The younger kids were playing in the backyard, while the older ones sat in the family room, listening to music that was kept at a low volume out of respect for Kasia’s comfort. Sophia, Karolina and Isabel were busy in the kitchen, while Rachel sat on the couch at her mother’s feet, painting them a sparkly purple.
Kasia’s eyes brightened as she waved to us, me and my aunt making our way in the front door, our arms laden with trays. I noticed she did this more now, smiling and waving without talking, as if she was reserving her energy.
“I better be getting a pedicure later, Rachel. That color is fierce.”
Rachel was a carbon copy of her mother, with golden blonde hair and eyes the color of pale blue sea glass. She smiled at me and winked, then turned her attention back to her task. During the past few months, Rachel had been struggling to leave the house in the morning for school, fearful, I think, that her mother might be gone by the time she got home. When Rachel was home she was practically plastered to Kasia’s side.
I crept back into the room, watching them after I put my trays in the kitchen and said hello to the women. When Kasia caught sight of me, she asked Rachel to make her a glass of her special iced tea and then waved me over. I could tell by the look on her face that she’d heard about my night. She took my hand, smiled and then nodded at me as if to say, “Tell me everything.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him, Kasia.”
“It was years ago. You were what, seven or eight the last time you saw him? How could you remember? But I have to know before Rachel comes back in, is there anything going on there?”
“Between me and him?” I was wide-eyed. “No, no, nothing! I barely know him!” She was smiling at me now, mocking me. Yeah, yeah…the lady doth protest too much and all that crap. “Really, Kasia, I met him randomly and I think he’s an ass, by the way.”
She looked hurt on his behalf. “He has his faults but he’s a good person.”
“He’s married and he tried to pick me up.”
“Last night?” Now she looked alarmed.
“No,” I admitted. “Last night I was acting like a fool and I think he got me out of a bad situation.” The smell of that anonymous guy’s cologne was fresh in my senses, the feeling of him grinding against me making me feel ill all over again. “Dylan flirted with me a few weeks ago before he knew who I was.”
She shook her head. “He’s cheating on Cecilia…How sad.”
“How deceitful, how cruel…Isn’t that what you mean?”
“Life’s complicated,” she whispered. “Dylan’s complicated.” She looked out the window for a moment and then turned back to me. “Enough about that, Veronica, I need you.”
“I’m here! Anything you need, you know that, Kasia.”
She shook her head. “I need to know you’re safe. You told me you were staying with a school friend during the week and you tell others you have an apartment at Alex and Henry’s store.” She held up her hand when I went to speak. “I want you to move in here full-time. Karolina’s apartment is empty. It’s yours now.”
“Yes.”
She raised her eyebrows, amused. “No fight? No, ‘I need my freedom and privacy?’”
“I think,” I croaked, “I think I need my family.”
She blew me a kiss. “I love you.”
“Love you more.”
The very next day, I gathered what few belongings I owned and made the basement my home. I made a project out of redecorating the space, with Rachel, Milo, Tomasz and Jakub helping me out. It was more of an attempt on my part to give Jake and Kasia some quiet time without the children.
Jake knocked on the door at around eight o’clock. “Wow, it looks great in here! You guys make a good team. Getting late now, though, so let’s get you guys upstairs. Mommy wants to say goodnight before we start brushing teeth and all that jazz.”
“Do you need help carrying her up?” Jakub asked. Such a little man this one was.
Jake flexed his muscles. “Don’t insult your old man. She’s already up in bed, waiting on you guys. Let’s go, school tomorrow.”
When Rachel frowned, I said, “Hey, I know a cool recipe for chocolate chip banana pancakes. If we get up a few minutes early we can make them in the morning. Then I’ll walk you and Milo to school, all right Rachel?”
He turned to me as Milo ran past him. “We’re all so glad you’re here, Veronica.”
I nodded, afraid I might cry if I spoke.
The day after my very strange homecoming at Casa Mazur, I got a call from my friend, Tom Farrell. I’d blown off every one of his calls and texts for the past few weeks, and I didn’t show for our last monthly steak dinner. Radio silence for him and for the rest of those motherfuckers. But now I wanted to hear him defend himself. If I couldn’t see him squirm, I wanted to at least hear it.
“You’re alive?” He went for humor when I answered the call with a terse, What’s up?
“I’m alive.”
Silence.
And I wasn’t going to do shit to help him out and fill this uncomfortable void.
He sighed. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while—”
“Really,” I cut in. “Can’t imagine what that could be.”
I could see him shaking his head on the other side of our connection. “From your tone, I’m assuming you already know what I’m about to say and you’re pissed that I kept it from you for so long.”
“It’s more than that, Tom, more than me being pissed,” I said, mocking his use of that lame word. “I no longer think of you as a friend. So say whatever you have to say and then let’s be done with this bullshit.”
He sucked in a breath and laughed like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said. “You don’t think of me as your friend? Fuck you. You think everything’s about you, right Dylan? That was her wish. She only wanted a few people to know. I only know because I’m married to Darcy and she’s been so heartbroken over the whole thing. Kasia and Jake only told their kids a few months ago, and you want to crucify me for not telling you?”
“What if she passed away last week, asshole? Were you going to call and give me the funeral arrangements? Or maybe not…Maybe you’d just casually mention how nice
the eulogy was during our next guys’ night out.”
“Fuck,” he said, breathing out. “I’m sorry.”
“If the shoe was on the other foot, just know I never would have done that to you.”
Click.
And Tom? I hope it hurts.
The day after that, I got another call. It was a banner week.
Bonnie, my new and improved, much older secretary, buzzed through as I was going through my emails. “A Mr. Wozniak is on the line. He said you’re expecting his call.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. He was either going to tell me to stay the fuck away or tell me to come—I knew both scenarios would leave me feeling wrecked.
“Put him through, Bonnie.” Deep, deep breath. “Jake?”
“Hey, Dylan. How’s it going?”
“I’m doing all right…How are you doing through all this?” Before he could answer, I blurted out, “And I really appreciate you reaching out to me. I hope you know I’d never stick my nose into the situation without talking to you first. And if you think seeing Kasia would be upsetting to her in any way…Or if she’s not up to it…Or whatever—”
“Slow down, Dylan. It’s gonna be all right.”
Babbling so hard I guess he was feeling the need to console me.
“Sorry, man. I just can’t seem to wrap my head around it.”
“Know the feeling,” he said, laughing quietly in a way that I’m sure was meant to make me feel better. He was a good guy, the fucker. “Listen, I talked to Kasia and she’d love to see you. Come by this week. Best if you can come by while the kids are in school, though. She’s usually pretty alert at around noon.”
Pretty alert at around noon. The comment made my heart sink but it made my determination stronger. I absolutely had to see her.
“Can I come tomorrow?”
I thought I’d be nervous, but I was feeling centered and serene as I pulled onto their block in Park Slope the next day at a quarter to twelve. I drove myself, needed to do this on my own.
But I didn’t do everything on my own. When I told Mother where I was heading, she sprang into action. She had her assistant jet around Park Slope, picking up a slew of gift certificates to the better take-out places in the neighborhood and movie gift cards for the kids. I would never have thought of that on my own.