“Did you know Elena had relatives in the States?”
“Yeah, her mother was actually American.”
“Really? She seems thoroughly Russian.”
“Well, she didn’t know her mother since she died when Elena was so young, but she does have U.S. citizenship. I remember her father making sure she kept her American passport so it would be easier to travel to the States for competitions. She doesn’t consider herself American, though. When a lot of Russians started defecting to the U.S., Elena said she’d never move there.”
Hmm… so it doesn’t sound like Elena will be interested in leaving Russia anytime soon. That’s a bit of good news.
A melodic ring trilled, and Sergei looked at his phone even though he knew it was my ringtone. I pulled my cell from my purse.
“Hey, Chris. Did you see the doctor?”
“I just left his office.” He paused, and I heard his car radio in the background. “It’s a partial tear of the rotator cuff.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“I have to do some major physical therapy between now and Worlds. He said I could compete if my shoulder feels stable enough, but I’ll need surgery right after.”
I shivered with unease at the thought of Chris going under the knife. Neither of us had suffered any serious injuries during our four-year partnership.
Sergei leaned over the table, his forehead creased. “How did it go?”
I frowned. “Partial tear.”
Sergei continued to look worried as I resumed talking to Chris. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
“It hasn’t been bad unless I move my arm a certain way. Don’t worry, Em. I told you I’ll be good to go for Worlds.”
He kept saying that, but a partial tear could turn into a full tear once he started lifting me over his head and throwing me into the air.
Sergei tapped the table. “Tell him I’m going to call the doctor tomorrow.”
I relayed the message, and Chris asked, “How’s it going with Sergei’s parents? Has his dad loosened up?”
“Uh, no. We’ve had some bigger issues on our plate, though. It’s too much to get into now, but I’ll tell you when I get home.”
“Sounds like it’s not much of a vacation.”
“That would be correct.”
Sergei’s phone vibrated, and we both froze and stared at it. “Chris, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Sergei pressed the answer button while I hung up my phone and took a long drink of my red wine.
“Elena?” he said.
As Elena spoke, Sergei closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his fist. In Russian, he said, “I’m sorry” and later, “Did you tell her I want to see her?”
He raised his head and made eye contact with me, clearly distressed. “I want to come over,” he said into the phone. “Maybe I can help.”
I massaged his sleeve and gave him a questioning look. Sergei moved the phone from his mouth and whispered, “Liza locked herself in her room.”
That poor girl. Everything she knew to be true had just been blown apart. I questioned again whether Sergei should’ve taken more time to think this through.
“I’m coming over so we can talk in person,” Sergei said.
Elena’s rising voice filtered through the phone before sudden silence took over. Sergei winced and disconnected the call.
“She doesn’t want you there?” I guessed.
“She’s so upset she can barely speak. She wasn’t making much sense. I need to talk to her face to face.”
I wrapped my knit scarf around my neck. “I can get a taxi back to the hotel.”
“Can you come with me? If we see Liza, you might make her more comfortable. She seemed to be a big fan of yours.”
Confronting an angry Elena and an emotional child didn’t sound like a particularly pleasant experience. But Sergei needed me, and I didn’t like the idea of Elena and him potentially being alone.
“Sure,” I said, wishing I hadn’t tried the herring appetizer earlier. It was now swimming upstream in my stomach.
We jumped in a taxi and were at Elena’s building as soon as the evening traffic allowed. The plain gray tower rose high above the busy street. We took the elevator up to the eighth floor, and when we stepped into the hall, Sergei halted. He turned his head both ways before aiming for a door to our left.
Sergei rang the bell, and frantic footsteps sounded from inside. The door popped open, and a tear-stained Elena huffed, “I tell you to stay away.”
“We have to deal with this,” Sergei said.
“She do not come out of her room,” Elena cried. “She say she never come out.”
“Can you let us in so we don’t have to discuss this out here?” Sergei pleaded.
Elena looked too defeated to put up a fight. Her shoulders sagged and her dark bob shielded her face as she shuffled aside for us to enter.
The inside of the apartment was much more impressive than the exterior. Marble floors stretched from the foyer into the living room ahead of us. The air smelled rich, like polished wood and fragrant roses. I couldn’t tell from the immaculate furniture that anyone lived there. The room resembled a museum more than a home.
“I should not do this stupid thing,” Elena wailed. “Why I listen to you?”
“She had to know the truth,” Sergei said. “It wouldn’t have been any easier later on.”
“I need time to prepare. Maybe I find better way to explain to her.”
“Did you tell her we didn’t want to give her up? That we had no choice?”
Every time Sergei said he didn’t want to give up the baby, my heart pulsed with jealousy I was ashamed to feel. If Elena’s father hadn’t intervened back then, Sergei would’ve married Elena. He’d admitted that to me when I discovered his secret. Knowing there was another woman who could’ve been his wife…
Elena sat on the cream-colored couch and wiped her eyes with the crumpled tissue in her hand. “I tell her we are too young and we cannot care for her. Then she ask why my cousins lie to her. Now she think bad of them. And she is so angry with me because I not tell her sooner.”
She balled up her tattered tissue and resorted to using her fingers to blot her eyes. Her efforts only resulted in smearing more mascara across her ivory cheeks. I rummaged through my purse and fished out a packet of Kleenex, offering it to Elena.
“Thank you.” She sniffled and plucked a tissue.
“She’s not going to be angry with you forever,” Sergei said. “She’ll–”
He gaped over my shoulder, so I turned to see what had startled him. Liza stood at the edge of the hall, just as sniffly as Elena. Her beautiful blue eyes looked like large swimming pools of tears. I felt the urge to go over and give her a big hug.
“You’re my father?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
Sergei’s Adam’s apple slid down slowly. “Yes,” he croaked.
Liza stepped further into the room and faced Sergei, her chin trembling and her fingers fidgeting together. “Will you take me back to America with you?”
Chapter Seven
Of all the reactions I expected from Liza, asking Sergei to take her with him wasn’t one of them.
“Liza, this is your home…” Elena rose and moved toward her.
“I hate it here.” Liza’s voice broke. “I never wanted to come here.”
Sergei’s eyes shot to Elena. “What is this? Why is she so unhappy?”
“She is upset. She never say before she is not happy.”
“I miss my friends. I miss my school.” Liza craned her neck up to Sergei. “Please, I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
The pools in her eyes overflowed, and a stream of water trickled down her pale cheeks. I bit down on my lip, holding in my own tears. Sergei’s face was white with pained shock.
“Liza, I know you are mad with me, but I make it better. I give you anything you want,” Elena said.
“I want to leave,” she replied.
&nb
sp; Sergei sniffed and cleared his throat. Then he crouched on one knee in front of Liza.
“I am so happy to finally meet you,” he choked out. “And I want to spend as much time with you as possible, but the law says I can’t take you with me.”
“But you’re my father,” she said with teary confusion.
Sergei’s jaw shook as he tried to keep from crying, and my heart couldn’t handle the sight. I bent my head and blinked as stinging tears flooded my contact lenses.
“I am.” Sergei’s reply dripped with pride. “But since I just found out the truth, it’s a little complicated. There’s some stuff Elena and I need to discuss.”
“Liza, you wait in your room while Sergei and I talk?” Elena asked tentatively.
Sergei straightened up, looking so tall next to the tiny girl. She gazed up at him with wet eyes. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”
“No, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Liza slowly turned and retreated to the hallway. Sergei covered his face with his hands, and I went over to him and clutched the front of his jacket.
“Are you okay?” I asked, though I knew he wasn’t. But I had no idea what else to say.
He dropped his hands and put his arms around me. I touched my fingers to the nape of his neck, gently rubbing and lending him warmth. After a few steadying breaths, Sergei slid close to my side and gave Elena a questioning stare.
“Why didn’t you tell me how miserable she is?”
“She still adjust. She need time.”
“Does she have friends? Does she enjoy skating?”
“It is… difficult, with different language. Girls at rink, they do not speak much English. But Liza loves to skate, and she have much talent.”
“What about her coach? Does she like him?”
“He is good coach. Tough, but all good coach are.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“We do not like our coach and we succeed.”
“So, she doesn’t like him.” Sergei left my side to pace along the shiny floor. “Which means she’s probably not enjoying skating as much as she should, and she probably feels alone because she can’t talk to the other kids.”
“You make it sound so horrible when it is not,” Elena snapped.
Sergei stopped pacing and stared at an abstract painting of red and black streaks hanging on the wall. “You’re still going to Worlds?”
“Yes, I promise Liza.”
Sergei put his gaze back on Elena. “Would it be possible for her to come stay with me until then?”
Say what? I studied Sergei’s eyes, trying to get a read on them. What was he thinking?
Elena gawked at him. “You are crazy.”
“It’s only a couple of weeks. It would give us a chance to get to know each other.”
“You promise not to take her from me and now you ask to take her!”
“I’m not trying to take her away from you. This would be a visit, that’s all. A few weeks until you meet us in D.C.”
“How do you care for her? You work all day at rink.”
“She can come to the rink and skate.” Sergei sounded more determined and excited with each breath. “There are so many kids there her age. She’ll love it.”
I lifted my hand to my mouth. Oh, my goodness. He’s really serious.
“No. Never,” Elena said. “She not go to America without me.”
“Then come with us,” Sergei said.
Every part of me went numb. Sergei had truly lost it. He was on his runaway train again, making plans while leaving me at the station.
I walked over to Sergei and said quietly, “Maybe we should talk.”
He took my hands and squeezed them. “This makes the most sense since they’re already coming for Worlds. It’s the perfect opportunity.”
“How do we go so soon?” Elena sputtered. “And where do we stay? In hotel for weeks?”
Sergei rubbed his chin, his wheels turning. No way he’d offer to let them stay in his one-bedroom apartment, would he? He wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at the moment. Even if Elena and Liza were at a hotel, Sergei would be spending time with them without me. I had to do something…
“You can stay with me,” I blurted out.
Sergei looked at me with one eyebrow lifted. “Em, you don’t have to…”
Elena shook her head. “We do not bother you.”
“I have plenty of space. I live with a roommate, but we have an extra bedroom and bathroom. And Sergei’s apartment is only a few blocks from my house.”
Elena folded her arms and followed the path Sergei had paced. “All is so sudden… Liza is so upset now. And she have schoolwork and skating–”
“Her tutor can give her work to take with her, and like I said, she can skate at our rink.” Sergei took a few steps toward Elena. “This trip might be just what Liza needs. To have both of us with her as she deals with everything.”
I fiddled with the small silver cross hanging around my neck. My emotions were fighting each other again. I certainly didn’t want Elena in my house for three weeks, but if she refused to bring Liza, Sergei would be crushed. There were no easy answers to the growing mess of complications in our lives.
“I want Liza to know I do anything for her,” Elena said.
“You can show her by doing this,” Sergei replied.
Elena closed her eyes and stood very still. Neither Sergei nor I moved, waiting for a response. When Elena looked at us again, she said, “We go if we find flight.”
Sergei exhaled and grasped her shoulders. “Thank you.”
A gleam of light shone in Elena’s dark eyes. It was the first time Sergei had touched her since we’d run into her at the rink. I clamped my hand around my cross, the sharp edges digging into my palm. The pain was nothing compared to the stabbing in my heart.
“Can we tell Liza the news?” Sergei asked.
The sound of a rattling cough and the heavy front door shutting pulled my attention from Sergei and Elena. An older woman carrying a paper sack entered the room and stared wide-eyed at Sergei.
“Olga,” Elena said in Russian. “You remember Sergei?”
The woman walked over to him and lifted her bony hand to his cheek. I shuffled closer to translate her scratchy reply. “It is good to see you after so many years.”
Sergei echoed the sentiment and continued in Russian, “This is my fiancée Emily.” Turning to me, he switched to English. “Olga’s worked for Elena’s family for a long time.”
She gave me a nod and a long appraisal, and I mumbled a greeting. I felt like I was being sized up by one of the hard-nosed Russian skating judges.
“I bring Liza out,” Elena said.
She left us, and Olga angled her head as she questioned Sergei. “You met Liza?”
“Elena told me everything. She told Liza, also. I assume you know the truth?”
“I do.”
I raised my eyebrows. Olga had to be more family than employee if she knew all the dirty little secrets.
Elena returned with Liza, and Olga ambled toward the hallway. “I finish dinner.”
Elena touched Liza’s long braid while she spoke to her. “Sergei and I have talk, and he invite us to visit with him few weeks before Worlds, if you like to do that.”
Liza’s teary eyes brightened, and she almost smiled. “We’re going to America now?”
“Yes. We leave very soon.”
The smile fully appeared on Liza’s face, and she turned to Sergei. “Thank you so much.”
He beamed and tipped his head. I couldn’t imagine what was showing on my face. Probably some combination of fascination and disbelief.
“Sergei, it is late. I think it best if you and Emily leave,” Elena said. “You call me with detail of trip?”
“Definitely. I’ll get you our flight information. Hopefully, there are some open seats.” Sergei approached Liza and took a moment before speaking. “It’s been so great to meet you, Liza. I can’t tell
you how much I’m looking forward to your visit.”
She smiled shyly. Elena walked Sergei and me to the door, and as he opened it Sergei said, “Thank you again for doing this. I really think it will be good for Liza.”
Elena had more strength in her posture than when we’d arrived, but worry still darkened her face. “We see.”
Sergei and I were both quiet as we waited for the elevator. The doors opened and shut us inside, and Sergei leaned against the back wall with a look of wonder.
“I can’t believe I just talked to my daughter.”
The magnitude of what had just occurred started to sink in, forming a lump in my throat. “She’s a beautiful little girl,” I said, my voice cracking.
We walked outside, and I tilted my head up to watch the snowflakes swirling around the streetlight. My nerves were dancing a similar pattern. Sergei stopped on the edge of the sidewalk and faced me.
“Do you think I’m crazy, doing all this?” he asked. “I don’t know how to explain it, but the first time I saw Liza, I felt this instinct to protect her. I couldn’t walk away.”
That fatherly instinct he’d suddenly acquired added to my confusion about the situation. It was somewhat unnerving but at the same time incredibly appealing. Watching Sergei with Liza had made my heart flip-flop in a whole new way.
“You’re not crazy,” I said, putting my hands on his waist.
He tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear and caressed my cheek. “I told you this before, and I have to say it again. You are truly amazing.”
He kissed me softly, and I pressed my lips harder against his, trying to block out my thoughts.
Was I amazing or a total fool?
Chapter Eight
With a deep sigh, I threw back the comforter on the bed and sank into the stack of pillows. I was more worn out than I’d be if I’d skated back-to-back long programs. Since Sergei and I had just rehashed the scene at Elena’s to my parents, I didn’t feel like reliving the day’s events again, but I had to call Aubrey to tell her about our impending guests.
Edge of the Past Page 6