“We do not give women authority in Russia.” Medansky’s voice never rose an octave but it was even firmer than Sergotoff could ever mustered. Mikhail could not help casting Medansky in his mind with a part in the movie “Night of the Living Dead.”
“What is wrong with you people? First it’s the Iron Curtain, then the Berlin Wall and now the Glass Ceiling. Stop putting things up that only have to come down, you’re wasting time.”
“We do not let women have authority. We do not listen to women.”
“Maybe that explains the fix you’re in.”
“We are not in a fix.”
“You kidnapped me, didn’t you?”
Medansky always liked asking the questions. He always hated it when someone had the answer. There was a time he could send a Jeopardy contestant to the tundra, but no more. If the intelligence chief thought the changes going on in Russia now were something drastic, his head would really be swirling if the ACLU ever arrived in town.
“Gentlemen, let this be my first positive change.” With Sergotoff nodding to Yalantov in an affirmative way, Mikhail knew he had gotten his way. The Foreign Minister was probably the only one at the conference table that had the common sense to realize that there really was not any other choice. While Mikhail knew that Sergotoff expected he and Alexi to fail, he had to give a good performance that he had given the appearance of providing support.
Anxiously awaiting Mikhail’s arrival, Allison just could not wait for him to come through that door. She had gotten up early and had coffee, several cups that she only did on Sundays in her normal routine. She wanted to make certain that she was alert, on her toes like a ballerina.
When she heard the sound of a key entering the door lock and took a peek at the kitchen clock, she knew it was Mikhail. Everything seemed so right. Moving toward the door, she was awe struck when he entered with roses. In every news account that Allison had ever seen of returning kidnap victims, she had never before seen one that stopped for roses.
Taking the roses from her lover, the young coed quickly embraced him, unleashing the passion that she had been storing for three weeks. The bitter cold weather of Moscow and the clothing he had to wear to combat it made Mikhail completely forget his sex drive. He thanked Allison in his mind for helping him with his amnesia. The kiss became so elongated it could have easily have put a thaw on the tundra.
“Mikhail! Mikhail! You hardly look like a man that had been kidnapped.”
“Allison, this wasn’t a run of the mill kidnapping. It’s like I told you on the phone, they want me to run Russia.”
What Mikhail had told her on the phone had not sunk into Allison’s head. Seeing her boyfriend mouth the words had an entirely different impact on the youth. Now it finally dawned on her that he was going back. What he had said to her on the phone was exactly what he meant; he would try to turn Russia’s economy around.
“You mean it?”
“Yes, yes of course. I want you to help me, these people need lots of help, many are starving. There is so much we could do.”
The round brown doleful eyes that Mikhail had fallen in love with were now making him feel guilty.
“Allison, I have to.” The love of his life had his number and she knew not to say a word, just remain silent.
“Oh please, Allison, don’t look at me that way.” Finding himself begging and not liking it, Mikhail quickly figured a way to combat Allison in this game of psychological warfare. Disappearing for but a few brief moments, he returned holding a card, a Red Cross donation card.
“Here, I gave, see. Look right there, thirteen donations. You can’t get any more blood from me, Allison. I’ve given in America, now I must give something to Russia, something good.”
Declaring himself the winner when Allison placed her head on his shoulder, he knew he craved moments like this. What if Allison decided not to join him in Moscow, what would he do? Had he been taking her for granted? Mikhail was now at psychological war with himself.
“Allison, you must come. You know how much I love you?” Before she could give him an answer one way or the other, he kissed her.
“You must come with me to Moscow, Allison. I want you to help me.” Not knowing how to answer, Allison was frozen in Mikhail’s arms. Maybe it was not a mental paralysis, maybe Mikhail had gotten frostbite in Russia and now it was contagious.
“I need you, Allison. You could do so much to help the women in Russia gain parity.”
“You mean it?” The excitability that reflected in Allison’s tone told Mikhail that he had struck pay dirt, that he had stirred a passion within her. Now he had to hope that it did not displace him as her raison d’etre.
“Yes, this is a country that needs change.”
“Oh Mikhail, really?”
“Yes, yes, I mean it.” Now it was Allison who became the passionate aggressor. Her lips told Mikhail that her heart was really in it and he had only wanted Allison to be with him if it was something she really wanted. Now she was making him want her.
“I need to tell my mother. When are we leaving?”
“Well, you’ll have plenty of time. I have to go to Hawaii first and make sure Mirnie can take care of everything. Besides, I’d like to get another round or two of golf in before I have to put the clubs away for the winter. Who knows how long the winter's going to be in Russia?”
“I’ll leave right away.” Reaching into his back pocket, Mikhail pulled out an airline ticket.
“Tomorrow. We’ll have dinner tonight at the Garden of Versailles.” Throwing her arms around Mikhail and swamping him with one kiss after another, Mikhail started having second thoughts about sending Allison to her mother more often.
The apartment in New York was on the Upper East Side where the upper crust of New York chose to live. It was a place where the celebrities liked to party and the area had New York’s swankiest clubs and restaurants. This was the area that Esther Carlisle resided, the mother of Allison Romanoff.
At sixty-two, Esther was in good shape. She had a beautiful apartment that she bought several years before for one million, two hundred thousand that overlooked the East River. Her wardrobe was valued at over two hundred thousand and it kept changing with the seasons. Esther loved shopping and Manhattan had plenty of stores to offer Esther her life’s gratification. She loved the East Coast with its change of seasons; it gave her a reason to shop.
While most of those living in the area were professional people or celebrities, Esther came about her wealth through six husbands. Two of her husbands had died, while she had divorced the other four. She was very fortunate to always run into men with wealth who did not stay long. Herman Romanoff, the wealthy manufacturer of artificial flowers back in the early sixties, died leaving an offspring, Allison.
While loving Allison and missing her daughter, Esther had enough common sense to let the woman lead her life. At her age a move to the West Coast would have been beneficial but she would have had to make a whole new set of friends. She was fortunate of the friends she had since the ones she had in New York outlasted her husbands. Allison always showed up twice a year at least: Christmas, and then for a few weeks in the summer.
Opening the door to find Allison there with her magnificent tan, they hugged as if they had not seen each other in years. Allison had just been there a little more than two months ago when she returned for the Christmas holidays.
“Allison, you look wonderful. Come in!” Allison grabbed her suitcase and entered. The singular bag sent a message to her mother that this was a short stay. Since she had only gotten the E-mail message last night about Allison’s arrival, she sensed that there was something special about this visit. Allison normally gave her more notice than twenty-four hours.
“Can we talk, Mom? I’m only going to be here two days.”
“I knew by the one bag, Allison, that you weren’t staying long, but two days? Give me a break, I’m your mother.”
“Please Mom, don’t make this difficult on me.” Esther k
new every one of her daughter’s idiosyncrasies, having raised her. When her daughter asked her not to make it difficult on her, Esther knew it was something big.
“Mom, I’m moving to Russia.”
“Moving to Russia? You make it sound as if it’s right next door. It’s not like you’re just going over the Fifty-ninth street Bridge to Queens. You’re not going to be over here in half an hour.”
“Oh Mom!”
“And why are you going to Russia, it’s certainly not for the weather?"
“I’m going over so I can help Mikhail turn Russia into a free market economy.”
“Listen, Allison, just because your last name is Romanoff, you don’t have to search for your roots. I’m satisfied not knowing about our ancestors. If they’re like your Uncle Maury, they’re just after a couple bucks and a meal. That’s all, nothing more.”
Grabbing Allison forward in disbelief, Esther began to believe that she had misjudged her daughter’s maturity. She also began to have second thoughts about Mikhail, whom she had adored until this point. What was he thinking agreeing to this, Esther pondered in silence.
“We’re going to do it, Mom, we’re going to bring the work ethic to Russia. Show those people that there are rewards for work.”
Moving quickly into the kitchen where she could still keep an eye on Allison, she moved toward the refrigerator. The words that her daughter just delivered made Esther feel that a drink was needed and she wanted to keep an eye on Allison just in case she had subconscious thoughts of suicide. Giving up UCLA Law School to try to start a country sounded like someone void of reason. This Russian moment called for a shot of vodka and Esther headed right for the freezer for the Smirnoff’s. She felt a double shot glass was appropriate at the moment.
Returning to the living room, Allison now had her back turned to her mother while she gazed out at the apartment building across the street.
“You know the view in Moscow won’t be as nice.”
“I’m not going for the view, Mom.”
“Do you two really think you can jump start that economy?”
“We’re going to try.”
“What are you two planning on doing, shop until you drop to try to circulate some money?”
Allison wanted her mother’s support and did not appreciate Esther’s sarcastic statement. It was something Esther had always given Allison and she expected the same now. Allison wanted the departure to be without any bitterness, without any squabbles. She was beginning to sense that her mother did not want to lose her.
“Mom, I’m a full grown woman.”
“I’d say you’re full grown. You must have one swelled head to think that two people can turn an economy around.”
Esther had brought the frozen bottle of vodka with her and placed it down on the coffee table where it would be in easy reach. She was trying to forget Russia: not remember it by getting frostbite. Quickly she poured another shot and placed the bottle back down.
“Mom, why can’t you support me on this?”
“Simple, Allison, it’s a crazy idea. You could have made a nice living chasing ambulances, but nnnnoooo, not my daughter. You decide to run to a country that doesn’t even have health care.”
“But Mom, that’s what we’re trying to do, get things going.”
“Look, Allison, that country is broke. I don’t know what you plan to do for money when you’re there.”
“Oh Mikhail’s uncle, Alexi, he’s the premier you know. Well, he told Mikhail that he would be paid a salary as a consultant.”
Taking a sip of the vodka to try to restore her sanity or lose her memory, whichever came first, Esther found herself in an insane situation with no answers. She remembered having a similar illogical argument like this the last time she visited Allison in Los Angeles with one of Allison’s neighbors. Was the disease that plagued Southern California now being transmitted to the East Coast?
“Listen sweetheart, if you’re counting on Mikhail being paid, here’s a little advice. Bring plenty of traveler’s checks.”
“Do you want to see me fail, Mom?”
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. Would I have spent all that money for your education if I wanted you to fail? Did I ever try to direct you into becoming something, try to tell you what to be?”
Allison thought about it and, having realized that the thought of her mother’s lifetime support had just crossed her mind, she knew in all honesty that her mother was not being hostile, maybe just more realistic than she.
“Maybe I’m being too egotistical.”
“Look Allison, if you and Mikhail want to jump start an economy, why not try something small first. Maybe Cuba.”
Esther had often tried to avoid confrontation with Allison since she always felt her daughter would learn about life on her own. By just knowing what to say when, she was able to do that more often than not. Frequently she made her daughter chuckle, not a wholehearted laugh, but just enough to break any tension that might be developing. Allison was just disappointed that it was not something that could just be used to remedy the world’s problems. It could not, Esther was too sophisticated and many of her statements would fly like a Stealth fighter right over people’s heads.
“How long will you be gone, Allison?”
“You know something, I didn’t think about that."
“Well, Allison, my dear, economies are not made overnight. Just ask Fidel.”
“You know, I’m not sure I have enough winter clothing.”
“Bloomie's is open ’til nine.”
The glee that swelled in Allison’s eyes brought back memories of the two of them shopping for back to school clothes, which was probably the reason that Allison decided to go to graduate school. They even shopped for back to school clothes in April. Esther was quite unique in her approach to shopping. Even if she were buying something that she knew she did not need, she would always just rationalized it by saying that one of her husbands would want her to have it. It was good that she had six husbands, plenty to chose from.
“A toast to shopping?”
“Of course, Mom.” Esther ambled over to her large oak china cabinet with its hand engravings of leaves scrolled down the side along the dowels. The hutch was where she kept her most expensive crystal and this occasion called for nothing but the best. Reaching into the cabinets in the lower half, Esther grabbed two clean shot glasses and brought them back into the living room. She filled each almost to the top with some of the Smirnoff's.
“To Russia and her economic success.” The two women toasted their glasses and sipped. For Allison it was difficult since she was a beer and wine drinker, hard liquor had always been a problem for her to swallow. She had to make an exception here since she knew that Mom was just the opposite. While not a frequent drinker, Esther could down the shots with the best of them when she got started. Allison started thinking that if Yeltsin were in power what a wonderful pair of drinking partners he and Mom would make.
The Sergotoff home was a palatial estate and was both larger and more extravagant than Alexi’s home. While Alexi was the highest-ranking official in the country, his new domain in politics did not provide him with a strong power base. The reality was that he had no base at all. Sergotoff thrived at being the puppeteer pulling all the strings.
The Foreign Minister had two sons, both who were abroad working in Russian embassies with the ultimate goal of reaching the pinnacle of the diplomatic corp. Since the youngest one left, Alexander, Serge Sergotoff became the center of his wife’s attentions. Having fathered two children so that he could direct her attention someplace else, the ball was now back in his court. Sophia was the one person he felt that he could not control, something a freak like him carried with resentment all the time. It was because of this that Sergotoff found himself entertaining often at his house, even people he hated.
This night found him providing the hospitality for a very good reason. The Prime Minister of Japan was in Moscow for a three-day conference on fishing righ
ts in the waters between Russia and Japan in the Sea of Okhotsk that provided an excellent opportunity to strengthen his hand internationally. This time he would not have to argue with his wife that he merely invited people over to avoid dealing with her.
The gala event required formal attire and those in attendance included all of the top people in government. It also included the top members of the Constitutional Democratic Party. Of course Alexi was there with Orlina, who was now down one dress size and fading fast.
Seeing Alexi, Yalantov, a bachelor and looking for conversation, he sought out the premier. He thought of Alexi as being amiable but while having heard of his great intellect, he wanted to find out first hand.
“Premier.”
“Yalantov, how are you?”
“Fine premier. And is this your lovely wife?”
“It is. Orlina, this is Yalantov, the Minister of Trade.”
“You are looking fit, Mrs. Debenov.” Orlina was pleased with the comment since that was exactly what she was trying to look, fit. Yalantov was an instant hit with her.
“I know it is wrong for me to pry, but do you really think that this free market could work in Russia? We are so different than the Americans.”
“We are different? You mean that you think the Russian people do not want to work, that the Russian people do not want things? Of course it could work.”
“Then what must we do?”
“We must make the people believe in the system. They must feel like they have a stake.”
Yalantov found himself finally grasping the idea of capitalism and it almost knocked him on his rear. The dizziness that filled his head caused the trade minister’s attention to drift momentarily where he found himself looking at a young woman’s cleavage.
“Are you all right, Yalantov?”
“Yes. I am just curious why you think people under capitalism have a stake in government?”
“Simple. They run their own businesses. They make all the business decisions, not some bureaucrat like us who have no idea what the business needs.”
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