by Riley Moreno
Mary was nodding her head: She totally agreed, “Yeah I read of that heavyweight boxer who got beat so bad, but ended up winning the belt; he was asked how he could keep on despite the punishment he had been taking and he said he could hear your voice in his head saying ‘you can do it!’…did you hear about that?”
“I sure did!” Marjorie replied grinning, “Proudest moment of my life bar when my son became an Engineer. I remember him too; John Claymore used to be a real hard case here back in the day. Nobody wanted to have him around even though he needed help more than most, and for sure he kept my hands full. Would you believe he started out with soccer?”
“How did you manage?” Mary asked, fascinated.
“I never lost faith him in him. That is the most important thing” Marjorie said, clearly enjoying the walk down memory lane, “I also used to smack him on the upside of the head when he got out of hand. Don’t try that though, these days you’ll get in trouble”
Mary chuckled again, deciding that she liked Marjorie Landry, “Mama always said you were the strong one in the group. I hope I can be of proper service.” She said, appraising this old woman who was, literally, a museum of memories, but evidently quite young in spirit.
“We were all strong Mary-your mum more than most; it was a pity she left so soon.” She reached out to Mary’s shoulders “And if you are anything like her then, dem hard headed kids better watch out now. Come along with me, so I can introduce you to the group and get you started”
****
The city, which was a rather large one, was divided into three major parts: the south, which covered the slums of the city, merited its own police precinct, and was not too far from the boardwalk which ran along the beach. There was the central part of the city which was mainly the business center, in the west, and its concomitant subsidiaries; the school district in the East, where was located the local hospitals and the youth center among other social endeavors. And lastly, at the far end of the city there was the East side which housed the more affluent citizenry. Walking along this section of the city, whether because of the royal balconies which led out to the rolling gardens, and lush green lawns or the smart uniforms of the helping hands that ran the houses, one would always the impression of being in another reality all together.
It was into such a pampered reality that Leander awoke to that morning, and every other morning for that matter. The crumpled silk sheets which covered the soft, king-sized bed, were the color of Lavender, and gave a soft, lazy rustle as he rolled over in bed. Leander was less interested in the treasures of the god life than he was in what he could get with them. He was not alone on the bed that morning, and he stretched his hand lazily to stroke the neck of the latest super model to snuggle up in his bed.
The model, Alecsa Nikolaev, which was the trendy short for Alexandra Nikolaev, smiled and snuggled deeper into the warm blanket she was under. The previous night had been wonderful, and she felt the morning had come too fast. Even though she was hot property at the moment, she was relatively new to the pop scene and was about as conservative as you would expect to find among such a crowd. She was a beautiful brunette, with an oval shaped chin and red, luscious lips that bounded a close cropped mouth which could nonetheless spread out to the most breath-taking smile. However, it was the “new girl on the scene” aura that she had or perhaps the “good girl” airs which she carried which had every wolf in town whistling-including the baddest of the bunch, Leander Kolarov, the handsome billionaire playboy whom ladies never seemed to tire of, nor stories about whom the gossip columns never seemed to be satiated.
He had been after this particular girl for weeks and presently he crossed the miles of bed space to get to cover her ash-colored morning face in self-satisfied kisses. He was Russian and she was Russian, he was devastatingly handsome and she was likewise-it seemed like a match made in heaven.
He knew it would not last though. He was too restless. He suspected that she suspected the same thing and he wondered about this as he covered her neck with soft kisses. It must be the eyes he joked to himself conceitedly. She smiled at the sweet distraction from her sleep.
“You know a girl needs her beauty sleep, Leander” she joked, turning to face him.
He gave a low growl as he felt himself arouse, still kissing her, “If your secret’s sleep, then I think you have had enough already”
She giggled at this, excited at the prospect of him all over her again as he snuggled into the blanket to join her.
*****
Mary barely made it home that night. She was bushed and had been ready to sleep on her feet if anything had delayed her on her way home. She stumbled through the door of the apartment, and found everything tidy, the table laid out and dinner in its final stages on the cooker.
“Andre?” She called out warily before she started on her way towards her bedroom.
He did not answer, but she could hear him whistling on in the kitchen. She pushed any worry out her mind as she went in to freshen up. She knew Andre well and when he cooked he was up to something.
Andre was an able hand in the kitchen and the meal was good as usual. They were seated at the round mini table that served as a dinner table on the rare occasions when they could eat together. Mary had to remark inwardly that the table looked quite nice, decked with her favorite green table cloth and all but outwardly she stared at Andre with wary eyes, intent like a hawk. This amused Andre in no small measure and Mary could see by his smile that he was enjoying every moment.
“So you gon’ tell me how things going down at the youth center?” he asked as he chewed on a Brussels sprout.
“Boy would cut the nonsense and tell me what’s going on?” Mary burst out laughing, “You got the kitchen cleaned and soup tasting all nice. Mom’s favorite spread on the table-I know something’s up and you better start talking”
“Oh come on be nice” Andre said laughing “I hear old Miss Landry still down there and she still got the place all nice and tidy as she always has since she took over twenty years ago”
“I tell you Andre you gotta see it to believe it. That woman still firm as a rock and the kids respect her too. She’s an icon now; a part of the fabric of our fair city” Mary replied, as she picked through the food which was plenty she realized.
“Yeah, that woman deserves the keys to the city. The upside of my head still hurts.” Andre said, “The kids treat you okay?” he continued as he started clearing the table.
“Nothing I could not handle. I mean there ain’t nobody worse than you when you was their age, and mama used to punish you by sending you over there after school, so nothing I can’t handle. Just tired ‘cus it’s the first day and all”
Andre, who was at the sink now doing the dishes, laughed at the memories the remark evoked. He clad in a white singlet and grey boxers, Mary could see he had been in the house for a while-a few hours at least. She envied his muscular look and wondered how they could come from the same womb and yet contrast on so many points. She was fairer in complexion while he was dark chocolate all over. She was a bit taller than their mom, but still average for a woman as far as height went. He was a few inches over six. He was all muscle now, but when they were younger it was she who had had all the attention, boys queuing up behind her prominent cleavage, and perfectly rounded behind. Now, she practically had to beat away with a broom the number of women who were queuing up behind her brother!
Andre noticed her observing him from the table as he crossed over to dry his hands, “Well sis you remember that UNICEF application I told you about?” he asked, “The one about the training program that’ll start in Africa?”
Mary sat straighter all of a sudden, “Yes, you mean the one I told you to stop dreaming about? Boy you telling me you got taken?!”
“Yep I sure did! We start next week. Angola first, then who knows where else?”
“Well ain’t that something?” Mary asked as she quickly went over to give him a hug “Soon as I saw those table cloths I kne
w you was up to something!”
She stood back, hands on his shoulders to size him up, just like a mother would, and in many ways she was his mother. In the seven years since their mother died, she had been that anchor for him and he knew it, appreciated it and hoped he would one day look back and say he deserved it. She hugged him again.
“Oooh look at you! And here I was thinking you had knocked some girl up and was trying to bring the news up nicely”
****
Leander started his work week on Tuesdays. He was not lazy; he just did not like the feeling of compulsion that came with working right after the weekend. He stretched over his soft, rotating leather chair and pushed a button for his secretary, Layla; a Lebanese bombshell he had working for him-what was the use of being filthy rich if you could not have all your wants met?
She had been waiting for the signal for a few minutes already. The antics her boss employed to show he was in control seemed utterly childish to her. She suspected it was all part of his seductive appeal which from her relatively close vantage point, she could see was pretty meticulously calculated and built. She had been attracted to him instantly when she had started working for him, and she was grateful that he respected the fact that she was married enough to reign in his humongous libido. She could be professional, but she was not sure how long she would hold out against the full glare of his pale azure eyes.
Leander lay back in his chair to enjoy one of his favorite moments of the day. Characteristically, Layla came in dressed in a dark formal suit over a matching skirt that just stopped at appropriate. Business as usual, she came in with the day’s messages and schedule. He did not know why but there was something about an efficient beautiful woman at work that fascinated him.
“You have a request for a meet here in the office by one of your card buddies-Alexander Yashin. I already asked the cooks to get the refreshments ready for his arrival. His secretary was very particular about his likes”
Leander grunted but said nothing. Layla continued sounding off item after item.
“Your brother Vasiliy sent a message to say that his son will be coming over to spend some time. He promised the details later.”
At this Leander froze, but just for a second before spinning his chair around to face the room length window that offered an expansive view of the Business district. Layla’s voice quickly faded into the background for a while as he took everything before him.
He had not heard from is older brother Vasiliy for a long time, and had not seen him for much longer.
“Prioritize the messages from Vitaliy will you? The others I leave to you to handle as best as you can” he said to Layla.
“I did not know you had a brother Leander, in fact I never even knew you had a family” Layla wondered as she rose form her seat. “The way you walk around, one would think you swam out of the primordial soup”
“Ha ha laugh all you can, but if you must know, we Russians are big on family and I do have a darling brother who means the world to me. I probably have not brought him up, because you haven’t asked”
“Whatever you say boss; I will keep you posted just like you asked but I would also remind you that the phone goes long distance, and you may like to reach out to your “darling brother” yourself for those details he talked about earlier”
“There you go! I knew you had jokes in you somewhere; now get outta here so I can get some work done”
When she eased herself out and closed the door, Leander swore under his breath. He had not kept in touch with his family back at home, half as much as he could. It was not his fault, he told himself; he had not really grown with them but he knew this was a lie; he had been almost fourteen when he had relocated to the United States. He mused that the difference in background meant he could not relate very well with them; another lie. The truth was he finally admitted, he was selfish, and really did not think he needed family at all. But this was against everything he had learned growing up as a kid. Where he was from, it bordered on deviant behavior, he thought acidly about himself. He could not explain his behavior but he consoled himself that it was thinking differently that had brought him this far and made him so wealthy.
But still, he stared apprehensively at the phone that lay on a solitary stool between the leather sofa and the liquor cabinet, at the far corner of the expansive corner office.
Chapter 3
Mary sat in the dark, in the old sofa to be found in the tiny, but functional sitting room in her home, and wondered for the umpteenth time why she was not out with someone nice or at the very least having fun all by herself-it’s a weekend for crying out loud she thought.
Andre had been gone for only a week, and she was already finding his absence unbearable. She knew it was just empty nest syndrome but still…
A lack of suitors was not the problem at all; beautiful, fully rounded, with full breasts, and a low lying, jeans-filling butt guaranteed to garner attention, she could easily have had the most active social life on the block; but she lacked the enthusiastic drive, she thought with dismay. As far as relationships were concerned she was a decided pessimist, and did not see any way that would change in the near future. All the men who came up to her where not able to see past the booty at her true self. What was it with men and ass? She mused in amusement. Maybe her standards were too high she thought.
Dressed only in her underwear in the dark sitting room, her nightgown laid out neatly on an easy chair, her soft, chocolate brown features were not at all visible in the darkness of the night. She suddenly made up her mind to sleep in the sofa, but not before switching on the telly, thinking that if she could not muster the energy to activate her social life, then she could at least watch others having fun. She zapped straight to the entertainment channel.
****
A few hours later, Mary was awoken by a persistent knocking on the door. Highly irritated and drowsy, she almost forgot to grab her, still folded, nightgown off the easy chair before stumbling sleepily, through the living room, to the door.
She looked through the spyglass to see who could possibly be at the door at this hour of the night. She was certainly wary of guests who came in this late in the night; this was not a very safe neighborhood, especially with Andre no longer around.
She was ready to berate anybody she saw on the other side of the door, and she shook her head when she finally was able to see a white, blonde, Caucasian male, barely able to hang on to the doorknob on the other end.
He knocked again; a little bit more insistent this time. She thought she heard him mumble something like “anytime now…”, but she could not be sure what had been conjured up off that drunken brain on the other end. She hesitated but for a moment, and on hind sight, she was not sure whether it was because of her recent bouts of loneliness or because of the fact that similar scenes had been acted out by her own father, who had been an inveterate drunk, which aroused feelings of empathy, but she opened the door and stood aside.
A very drunk, very disheveled and very grateful Leander Kolarov stumbled through the doorway, and fell into an untidy heap on the floor.
****
Leander had been a late entry into the family, and had been quite a surprise for his parents who had not been expecting him at all. By the time he was born, he already had two older siblings, Angelina, who was sixteen at the time, and a novice trying to enter a cloistered convent, and Vitaliy, who was fourteen. Six years later, a bump on a slippery road led to a car crash that orphaned them all.
Vitaliy, in his senior year at the University had had to drop out to take care of his six-year old younger brother. His older sister, who was already a cloistered nun, would not be a problem. He had taken over the family business which by then consisted of a convenience store and had dug deep to keep things afloat. Leander could remember that during his elementary school years his afternoons had been spent reading comics in the family store where Vitaliy could keep an eye on him, and at the same time run the shop. Leander was aware that Vitaliy h
ad carved out a nice middle class existence for himself and his own and of that he was proud. He was also ashamed, for he had barely kept in touch in the past few years.
Leander had thought about all this when he had heard of Vitaliy’s imminent arrival and had decided to reach out. The phone call had bordered on disaster from the get-go: Firstly, Leander realized, with dismay, but not much surprise that his Russian was faltering. His good-natured brother, who was excited by the call after such a long hiatus kept leaving him behind in dialogue, much to his amusement and Leander’s embarrassment. On top of that, Leander did not even know young Vitaliy’s age; he could have sworn that it was ten, but it turned out the boy was fourteen. Further along, he had hoped to make up for all these shortcomings using the only method he could possibly think of-he had offered his brother money. Vitaliy sr. had not been offended before, but he was offended now; he had not asked for a handout. Leander had apologized, cursing himself for forgetting how much self-esteem his brother had for himself. He apologized again as his brother reminded him of how comfortable he was business wise. Leander would not be put off in his fool hardy pursuit to show how much of a family man he could be, so before he could stop himself, he offered to take young Vitaliy for a year, and not just the holidays. This obviously pleased Vitaliy sr. and the phone call had ended on a high note, despite the sinking feeling in Leander’s belly.
The call had gone better than he had hoped and he was not going to let the fact he had no experience with kids spoil his joy. Throughout the week however, the feeling of apprehension slowly won over that of elation: who are you trying to kid he asked himself-you’re terrified of children!
“Come on how had can it be to house a fourteen year old?” the beautiful Layla, had asked him teasingly two days later.