by Alexa Land
“Mo! Language!” Erin interrupted, tilting her head toward the living room where her kids were completely ignoring us.
“Oh, they can’t hear me!” Maureen exclaimed, and the sisters bickered for a while as I sighed and ate another donut.
Finally they remembered I was in the room, and when they turned their attention back to me I asked innocently, “What do you mean, my thing with Charlie?”
This earned me twin eye rolls from both sisters. “Oh come on Jamie, don’t play dumb,” Erin said. “We know you and Charlie were a couple. And it’s sweet that you’re still trying to keep it quiet for his sake.”
“Did Mom and Dad know?” I asked, genuinely shocked.
“I doubt it,” Erin said. “They live pretty heavily in denial. Even when you came out a few months ago, I think they tried to pretend they misunderstood you.”
“So how did you know?”
“Well, let’s see: the way you looked at each other, the way you’d touch him when you thought no one was watching,” Maureen began.
And Erin finished for her, “The way the two of you would leap apart when you were sitting on the couch watching football and one of us came into the room. It was totally subtle,” she said sarcastically.
I hadn’t thought about Charlie much since meeting Dmitri. But now, remembering all of this, sadness crashed into me like it had been poised right on the edge of my consciousness, waiting for an opening. “I’m sure you heard he got engaged,” I said.
“Yeah, we heard. Oh Jamie, you’re still torn up over him, aren’t you?” Erin asked.
“I mean, it still hurts, but not like it used to. Actually, since I met Dmitri, Charlie hasn’t really been on my mind much.”
“Sorry we reminded you, Jamie,” Maureen said, reaching out and squeezing my arm.
“It’s fine,” I told her. “Really. I’m putting Charlie behind me.”
“So this thing with the gangster, is it a rebound thing?” Erin asked.
“No, it’s really not,” I said. “It’s far more than that.”
Just then a blood-curdling shriek came from the living room. Brennan raced into the kitchen, crying and covered in powdered sugar. “Tippy ate my donut!” he wailed, pointing accusingly at Maureen’s silky terrier, who’d followed him into the kitchen and stood there innocently, wagging his tail, his muzzle white with sugar. Erin sighed and handed over a jelly donut, and Brennan shot out of the room again, yelling, “No, Tippy!” as the small dog bounded after him.
“So what are you going to do about Sunday?” Erin asked. “Dad’s going to flip out if you don’t bring this guy over.”
“But if you do bring him over,” Maureen said, “all hell’s gonna break loose.”
My nephews started arguing in the living room then. The entire argument consisted of Brennan yelling, “Nuh uh!” and Brody screaming, “Yuh huh!” over and over and over again. The dog apparently had an opinion on this matter, and began barking incessantly as the boys kept yelling.
“Your dog’s gonna get me evicted from my apartment, Mo,” I told my sister.
“He is not,” she said defensively.
“Aren’t you going to go in there and break that up?” I asked Erin.
She took a long drink of coffee and reached for another donut. “Nope. They need to learn conflict resolution.”
I bonked my forehead against the kitchen counter and considered fleeing my apartment by way of the fire escape. Another minute of this noise and my head was going to explode.
Someone knocked on the door then, and Maureen leapt off the barstool and announced, “I’ll get it. That’s probably Robbie. He was going to come over when class let out.” She and her fiancé were both students at S.F. State. They were also joined at the hip.
Erin said calmly, as if her sons weren’t completely screaming in the other room, “So, when are you seeing the gangster again?”
“Can you please stop calling him that?” I shouted over the noise. “He has a name.”
All of a sudden, quiet descended on my apartment, and I sighed with relief. My sister said, “Sorry. What was his name again?”
“Dmitri,” I said softly as he appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.
He held an absolutely delighted Brody on one hip and had Tippy the dog tucked under his other arm. He smiled at me and set the toddler down, and Brody immediately attached himself to Dmitri’s leg like a little blonde leech. There were tiny powdered sugar hand prints all over Dmitri’s black dress shirt, but if Dmitri noticed he didn’t seem to care.
“Hi,” he said shyly, absently scratching Tippy’s ears.
“Hi yourself,” I answered with a grin. Dmitri seemed relieved at my reaction.
Maureen had trailed into the kitchen behind Dmitri, and she was staring at him in awe. I glanced at Erin and saw she was doing the same thing. Brennan raced into the room then and started climbing Dmitri like a tree.
Dmitri sat down cross-legged on my kitchen floor and let go of the dog, then said to the boys, “Hey, want to see something?” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and tapped the screen a couple times. Bright colors lit up the screen.
My nephews piled into his lap as Dmitri said quietly, “See? This is how you control it.” He tapped the screen and ran his finger across it, and both boys gasped and let out delighted giggles. He handed over the cell phone and my nephews concentrated on it with rapt attention, imitating the tap and sweep motions, then oohing and ahhing at whatever was happening on the screen.
“Holy shit,” Erin muttered in amazement, forgetting her own swearing rule. “He’s the Toddler Whisperer.” To Dmitri she said, “What is that?”
“It’s an app I made that I call the Kid Calmer. My sister Lena has two toddlers as well, and this is the only way we can make it through a meal in a restaurant without one or both of the boys totally melting down. It’s basically just a simple chain reaction game, but for some reason, children love it.”
“Could I get a copy of that app?” Erin asked eagerly.
“Of course. I’ll send it to Jamie and he can forward it to you. Which sister are you, by the way?” he asked with a bright smile that showcased those adorable dimples.
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I said. “Erin Nolan-Jacobs, Maureen Nolan, this is Dmitri Teplov.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you,” he said, laying on the charm. My sisters didn’t stand a chance. Even the dog was sitting there staring at Dmitri adoringly, wagging his tail.
“Likewise,” said Erin.
And Maureen said cheerfully, “Well damn, I see why my brother is so smitten with you.”
I blushed at that, and then said, “Oh crap, your phone’s getting ruined, Dmitri,” as I noticed the coating of grease, sugar and jelly that the boys were liberally applying to the screen.
He shrugged, totally unconcerned, and said, “It’ll be fine. And if not it doesn’t matter, it can easily be replaced.”
Then he glanced at me and said, “I’m sorry to drop by unannounced and interrupt your visit with your sisters. I should probably go.”
Both sisters exclaimed in unison, “No!” And then Erin added, “We’re glad you’re here. We’ve been wanting to meet you.”
Dmitri looked at me hesitantly, and I told him, “I’m really glad you’re here, too.”
He visibly relaxed at that, smiling at me as he leaned back, propping himself up with his hands behind him. He looked perfectly content there on my kitchen floor, covered in kids and sugar and dog hair. Brody started to tip over then, and in a lightning-fast reaction Dmitri’s hand shot out, steadying the toddler with a palm on his back.
“You’re a natural-born parent,” I told him.
“I love children,” he said, smiling at the boys fondly. Brennan looked up at him and pulled a squished, half-eaten jelly donut out of the front pocket of his overalls, handing it over with a huge smile. Dmitri accepted the gift and said sincerely, “Thank you. I’ll save this for later.” And then he actually put it in the po
cket of his expensive dress shirt, which made Brennan beam at him delightedly.
And then a realization hit me. This must be why he was getting married. Dmitri wanted children. And that was something I could never give him – at least, not biologically.
“Kids always like me for some reason. Dogs, too,” he was saying, grinning at Tippy and ruffling his fur. The dog tilted his head and watched Dmitri closely, and Dmitri laughed and said, “Oh God, that reminds me. I had such an embarrassing nickname growing up.” He looked up at me. “It was–” he said something in Russian that I didn’t catch.
“Chinook?” I repeated, even though that wasn’t quite what he’d said. “Like the salmon?”
He smiled at that. “Not exactly.” He said it again – it sounded something like tch-nawk. And then he asked me, “Can you guess what it means?” And he tilted his head at me in that characteristic way of his, the same way Tippy was tilting his head at Dmitri.
I grinned at him and guessed, “Puppy?”
He flashed a brilliant smile at me and said, “Exactly. Probably one of the most embarrassing nicknames ever.”
“Oh, no it isn’t,” said Erin, who’d been sipping coffee and watching this whole interaction closely. She grinned wickedly and said, “I can think of a much more embarrassing nickname.”
My eyes went wide with horror, and I said, “Don’t you dare! Erin, if you say one more word, I’ll made good on my threat. I swear.”
“What threat?” Dmitri wanted to know.
“Her kids latch on to song lyrics like crazy,” I told him, still watching my sister with narrowed eyes. “So I have a piece of blackmail that I always keep handy for situations just like this. If she lets my nickname slip, I’ll make good on my threat to teach the boys every word to this really old, really annoying song called Rapper’s Delight. That song drives Erin insane.” I shot Maureen a look and said, “You hush up, too, Mo. I have plenty of dirt on you as well.”
“You don’t scare me, Tater,” Maureen said with a satisfied smile.
Dmitri laughed at that. “Tater? Why?”
I moaned and collapsed face-first onto the counter. And Maureen happily explained, “Because when he was ten, all he would eat was tater tots. Our mom kept saying, ‘You have to eat something else, Jamie. Otherwise you’re going to turn into a tater tot.’ The rest of us kids shortened it to Tater, and the rest is history.”
“He actually liked the nickname,” Erin added happily. “For Halloween that year, he dressed like a tater tot.”
“Only, his homemade costume didn’t go quite as he planned. Everyone thought he’d dressed up as something else,” Maureen grinned.
“That’s right. Most people thought he was dressed like a giant P-O-O-P,” Erin spelled, knowing her sons would latch on to that word the moment they heard it. Maureen doubled over with laughter.
“Oh God,” I moaned, still face-down on the counter. “Please stop talking. I’ll pay you both to shut up.”
A gentle hand rubbed my back, and sat up to find Dmitri right beside me. The kids still sat in a huddle on the floor, glued to the cell phone (probably literally glued to it, given all the sugar coating it). His eyes were sparkling with amusement as he said, “I’ll bet you were the cutest giant P-O-O-P that anyone had ever seen.”
My sisters burst out laughing, and I knit my brows at Dmitri. “This is totally unfair,” I told him. “You’re getting to hear all my embarrassing stories, but I don’t know any of yours.”
“I told you my nickname willingly,” he pointed out. “Besides, just wait. When you meet my sisters, they’ll totally humiliate me.” He turned to Erin and Maureen and said, “I have five sisters, and they love to gang up on me.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” I said, getting up off my barstool. And then I changed the subject by saying, “Want to take the kids to the park? It’s nice out. And I’m still waiting for all that sugar to detonate in their systems.”
My apartment in the Sunset was walking distance to Golden Gate Park, and once we got there Dmitri ran around with the boys, playing tag as the kids shrieked and laughed with delight.
I sat on a picnic table between my two sisters, the dog curled up under the table and quiet for once, as Erin murmured, “He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Don’t tell my husband I said that.”
“And he’s incredibly sweet,” Maureen said, watching him closely. “How can he possibly be a criminal?” She said that quietly, so that he wouldn’t overhear her.
“I have no fucking idea,” I murmured.
“Maybe he’s just involved in, like, illegal gambling or something fairly benign,” Erin supplied helpfully, also keeping her voice down. “I mean, no way is he dangerous. I wouldn’t let him within fifty miles of my kids if I believed for an instant that he was.”
“I know,” I said, watching as Dmitri scooped up Brody and put him on his shoulders, then chased after Brennan as he and Brody made helicopter noises. After a moment I said quietly, “He’s getting married in a few months.”
Both sisters turned to stare at me. “No!” Erin exclaimed. “Just like Charlie?”
“Kind of.” I sighed and sunk my chin onto my hands, elbows propped on my knees.
“But he’s obviously crazy about you,” Maureen said, wide eyed.
“I know he cares about me. But I can’t give him that,” I said, gesturing to where both of my nephews now had him by a hand and were dragging him toward the big play structure.
“Of course you can,” Maureen told me. “It’s called adoption. And there are other alternatives too – surrogates, egg donors….”
“Yeah, I know,” I said quietly. “But the fact is, he’s engaged to a woman, and he’s marrying her in June.”
“Then he has no business leading you on,” Erin said fiercely.
“He’s not. He was honest with me right from the start. I know what I signed on for, I know this is just a short-term thing. And I’m determined to enjoy it for as long as it lasts.”
“Jamie,” Maureen said, “if this is just a short-term thing, why did you tell everyone about him? You would have saved yourself so much grief by keeping quiet about it.”
“I spent eight years pretending Charlie was just a friend, Mo, pretending I wasn’t totally in love with him. And every single day, I felt like I was living a lie. I’m not going to do that anymore. From now on, I’m going to live my life as an open book. And if people don’t like the choices I’m making, tough shit.”
“That’s admirable. But Dad’s still going to rip both you and the hot felon to shreds,” Erin said with a sigh.
Dmitri sailed down a slide with the boys on his lap, then jogged over to us with a kid in each arm, saying, “Diaper alert. Both of them, I think.”
Erin leapt up and grabbed the diaper bag, then scooped up Brody while Maureen took hold of Brennan and held him at arm’s length. “I’ll help,” she said, and both sisters rushed off toward the restrooms.
Dmitri came and sat right beside me on the picnic table, so close that our hips were touching. “Hi,” he said softly.
“Hi yourself.” I leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips.
His blue eyes searched my face as he said, “I’m sorry I dropped by unannounced. I just…I get worried when you don’t answer your phone.”
“I’m glad you came over. You’re a huge hit with my sisters and nephews.”
He was still watching me closely. And he said quietly, “What you asked me earlier…you already knew that, didn’t you?”
I shrugged, breaking eye contact. “I didn’t want to believe it.”
He wrapped his arms around himself as he said softly, “So now that you know, are you going to break up with me?”
“No.” He glanced up at me, and I reached out and plucked a little leaf out of his dark hair. Then I grinned and said, “You really are a mess. You know that?”
He offered a little smile and said, “I do know that. And not just because I have leaves in my hair and a squash
ed donut in my pocket.”
I leaned forward and kissed him again. And when we broke apart, he looked away quickly. “Dmitri, are you ok?”
“I don’t deserve you, Jamie,” he whispered. “I’m not good enough for you. I wish I was somebody different. Somebody better.”
“You’re wonderful.”
“I’m a criminal,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.
“Some time soon,” I said, pulling him to me, “I need you to explain to me exactly what you’re involved in. But I’m saying that as your boyfriend, not as a cop. And just know that whatever it is, it’s not going to change the way I feel about you.”