Mama
When the doctor released me from the hospital, I couldn’t wait to get home to Vladimir’s estate in Indian Hill and reconnect with the Russians. I hadn’t spoken to Boris or the guys since they visited me early in the day, and I wanted to find out if Vladimir had made contact since then. I was probably overly optimistic to think Vladimir and Maksim had completed their work for Moscow, and the two of them were on their way back to their respective homes. However, I would settle for any type of message from Vladimir at this point. I desperately needed confirmation from my husband that he was okay, and I prayed he could give us an update of when we could expect him to come home.
Dad drove down the winding road that led to my new home. A safe house nestled in the woods and surrounded with barbed wire, security cameras, and my own personal bodyguards to watch over me, keeping the good guys in and the bad guys out. My dad’s Camry rolled toward the house, and his tires crunched up gravel as we approached a security gate. Memories of the first night I’d met Vladimir raced through my mind.
The intensity of his hypnotic blue eyes. The way he blocked out everything in the world and focused solely on me. Sexy Russian accent, bad boy tats, rocking body under that fitted suit…
Dad pressed the button on the security monitor and announced our arrival. A buzzer sounded, the gate opened, and Dad drove through and parked in the circular driveway. I searched the treetops for Vladimir’s pet peacock, Igor, but it had been months since Vladimir had moved away, and I was sure the bird had relocated to a new home by now.
The massive double mahogany doors opened, and Pasha jogged down the stairs to greet me. He kissed my cheeks and wrapped his big arms around me, swallowing me up in his loving embrace. I held the envelope with the baby’s pictures in my hand and was dying to show the guys. I had over-analyzed George’s pictures a million times and could swear he had his papa’s pointy nose.
Pasha showered me with praise and words of encouragement then gave my dad a warm welcome as well. “Good afternoon, Rick. Nice to see you again.” Pasha reached out and shook Dad’s hand. “Thank you for bringing Carter home. Please, you must join us for a light lunch.”
Pasha’s welcoming golden brown eyes and chummy aura brought a smile to Dad’s face. “I can’t stay long. Carter needs to rest and shouldn’t have too much excitement—doctor’s orders.” Dad emphasized the last part as if reminding Pasha that I needed to be handled like a delicate, traumatized little flower.
“Of course, Rick. I only want what is best for my beautiful sister.” Pasha held my arm as I hobbled up the stairs in my clunky orthopedic boot. When we crossed the threshold into the foyer, I glanced up at the sparkling crystal chandelier above our heads and sidestepped toward Vladimir’s office to get out from underneath it.
Boris welcomed me home with kisses on my cheeks. “Privet, lapsha.”
“Privet. Has Vladimir contacted you? When is he coming home? Is he safe?”
“Give him time.” Boris gave me a visual frisking from the boot on my ankle, the cast on my arm, and my baby bump rounding out the waistline of the pale-yellow maternity dress my family had delivered to the hospital. “You look wonderful, dear. Feeling okay?”
“I might have to watch a couple hundred hours of mindless British sitcoms on the BBC to bleach Maksim’s horrid vernacular out of my head, but other than that, I’m fine.”
“Good. Take a deep breath and promise you won’t get too excited. I didn’t want to do it this way, but they insisted.” He nodded over his shoulder.
“What are you talking about? Who’s they?” I peeked around him to see what he was referring to. The first thing that caught my attention was a handmade banner strung across the family room that read “Welcome home, Carter!”
It was crudely constructed of white sheets of computer paper taped together to form a sign. Each letter was different in style and color and illustrated with drawings of some of my favorite things—a tennis racquet, poodles, a football—and it appeared each piece was handmade by a different artist. My gaze moved from the sign, to a stack of gifts on the coffee table, to a three-tier cake with light blue icing…
“Surprise!” My family and dear friends breezed in from the kitchen and bombarded me with hugs and affection. My little sister, Megan, melted in my arms. She was six years old, and I couldn’t imagine how she was processing my abduction. I wept as she told me how scared she was and how much she missed me. I gazed into her chocolate brown eyes, stroked her hair, and promised her I was okay.
My stepmom, Karen, blotted her tears away with a tissue in one hand, and in the other fingered her treasured pendant that spelled out “Mom” in multi-colored gemstones. “I knew this day would come. We never stopped looking for you.” She joined our reunion, and I placed my hand over hers and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Then my stepmom and Megan stepped aside to make way for the rest of my well-wishers.
My roommate, Kiki, hugged me gently, mindful of my injuries. We had been besties since we were kids, and I was overjoyed to see her. She had changed her style up a bit since I’d seen her last. Instead of hot pink streaks in her hair, she went with a trendier, more sophisticated reddish-purple fade that blended beautifully into her glossy black locks.
“Congratulations. You are going to be the best mom ever.” Her gaze drifted to my stomach.
I stared at her inquisitively. “You know?”
“We had a family sit down before you got here. Everyone in this room supports you and Vladimir all the way. Hearing how he saved your life and how the two of you fell in love—” Kiki batted her eyes dramatically and placed her hands on her heart. “Please tell me you have pictures of your wedding.”
Although I knew our relationship wasn’t a secret, it was weird hearing Kiki mention it.
“Welcome home, Cookie.” My friend Ryan stole me away from Kiki and planted a kiss on top of my head. He was a running back for our college football team and my buddy since grade school. “Now that you’re home, I can take this off.” He handed me a pink sweatband. “The whole team has been wearing these in your honor. I knew you’d come home safe. I never doubted it for a minute.”
Having the most important people in my life here, in my home, to celebrate my return was more than I could have ever hoped for. “This is the best surprise ever,” I said to Boris.
He guided me to have a seat on the couch. “You don’t have your surprise yet. Remember, don’t go crazy.”
“Vladimir is here? He came home?”
“Nyet.” I followed his gaze past the family room.
The swinging door that led to the kitchen burst open, and two energetic little girls bounced into the room and cried, “Mama! Mama!” My friends and family stepped aside as Dmitri’s sisters, Mari and Ruslana, made their way through the crowd. I held out my good arm in anticipation of embracing my newly adopted daughters.
Vladimir had made all the arrangements for their adoption through Russia, and I never dreamed I would be reuniting with them so quickly. It had been four months since I’d last seen them in Ekaterinburg. I felt a rush of gratitude to finally be reunited with my girls, but also guilt because of all the grief they’d been through in their young lives.
Ruslana, the youngest at age four, charged toward me with a welcoming smile. She was the outgoing one with curly blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a bubbly personality. Mari was a year older than her sister and bore a striking resemblance to her big brother. She had Dmitri’s straight black hair, pale skin, and striking green eyes. While she favored him in appearance, she also took after his personality. She was quiet and thoughtful, and didn’t easily share her feelings.
Ruslana reached me first, and I reeled her in for a hug with my good arm and kissed her cheek. “I love you so much. How are you?”
“Good, Mama,” she said in a sweet Russian accent. Then she stared at my stomach as if she was trying to conjure up x-ray vision, leading me to believe she had been told about the baby too. I picked up her tiny hand and pressed it against my baby bump. Her blue eyes lit up when she felt the mass that held her little brother.
I looked up to find Mari, and I was devastated to see her expression was solemn. Her gaze darted from one bruise on my body to another, and then to the bulky pink cast on my arm. She had witnessed too much violence at her young age, and it probably frightened her that someone had hurt me. When she was a toddler, she’d witnessed her biological father physically abuse her mama, and seeing my battered body must’ve triggered awful memories.
I touched her cheek, stroked her dark hair, and stared into her innocent green eyes. I spoke to her in Russian and assured her I was okay and we were all safe now. “Trust me, sweetie. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Mari smiled, placed her hand on my stomach, and giggled with her sister. My heart felt like it was going to burst to see how excited they were to feel the newest addition to our family. Being together with my girls, and seeing them happy and healthy, filled me with a sense of pride. This was what Vladimir and I were fighting for. Our girls, the baby, a future filled with the joys of becoming parents. Our lives will be perfect when Papa comes home.
“Carter.” A familiar voice startled me, and I looked up to see Boris’s wife, Anya. She was towering over me and spoke my name as if asking permission to greet me. Her dark brown eyes were filled with apathy as she moved closer and sat beside me on the edge of the couch. The last time I’d been in the same room with her, she vented her frustration on me and physically attacked me. I hadn’t spoken to her since she’d hurt me, but Boris insisted she was truly sorry.
The room fell silent as Anya bowed her head, silently asking for my forgiveness. At first, I was confused by her demeanor, then I remembered my role within our family. As Vladimir’s wife, I was the reigning queen of the household. I regarded her thoughtfully as I decided how to handle my reunion with my statuesque mother-in-law. I came to the conclusion that there was no room for anger, animosity, or grudges in our forever lives. I did what was best for my family and forgave Anya for her transgressions against me.
“Privet, Anya.” I leaned toward her and allowed her to kiss my cheeks.
She drew me in for a hug, smooshing the girls between us, and our tension melted away. As we were locked in our loving embrace, Babushka, Boris’s mother, joined us on the couch. She laid her hand on my back and praised me in Russian for my strength and loyalty. She appeared stylish in a red floral scarf with black fringe and flashy, designer glasses embellished with diamonds. I felt a rush of relief that our family was safe, and I was grateful to have them home.
Just when I thought all my surprises had been revealed, I heard toenails tapping on the hardwood floor. My sweet, giant poodles barreled toward me and danced at my feet. They whimpered and cried as if to say, We’re home! We missed you, Mama! Where’s Papa?
“Hi, cuties.” The last time I’d seen Gustav and Anastasia was at the dacha in Russia. They were back to their prim and proper poodle style, as opposed to the natural look they had donned while we were on the farm in Ekaterinburg. Anastasia, the gray one, glued herself protectively at my side. She hadn’t acted that way in the past, and I wondered if she sensed my pregnancy. Gustav, the energetic black one, trotted off to grab a toy then returned with a wet, slobbery tennis ball in his mouth. “Good boy, Goosey. I promise I will play you with you soon.”
Once I greeted everyone, I realized I hadn’t seen Dmitri. I glanced around the room and found him standing by the back door that led to the balcony, as if on guard duty. He looked sharp and professional in a muscle-hugging black suit with his dark hair slicked back out of his eyes. His nose was still swollen from his fight with Vladimir, and like me, he had healing bruises on his face in various shades of purple and yellow.
Dmitri gave me an up nod and a tiny grin, but didn’t leave his post to greet me. He was an important person in my life, and I didn’t like it when he hung back when the family gathered like he was an outsider. I didn’t know if Boris had assigned him guard duty, or if he chose to exclude himself from the festivities, but it was my party, and I wanted him to join the celebration.
I cruised over to my bodyguard, picked up his hand, and brought him into the inner circle of my friends and family. Everyone took a seat in the living room and gathered around as Mari, Ruslana, and my little sister helped me open the presents.
I was touched by the thoughtfulness of my loved ones, but the smiles, laughter, and joy of being reunited with my family was the real gift. I missed my husband terribly, and although I loved every minute of my homecoming, I couldn’t wait for Vladimir to return and reclaim his seat at the head of our family.