“He doesn’t tell me much, either,” Julia added with a short laugh. “I’m only his wife.”
Anna giggled. “He should be back soon. He said you were very tired and wanted to be sure you slept as long as you needed. I’m very sorry about your grandmother.”
“Thank you—I’m sorry, too,” Julia said, breathing in deeply at the fresh stab of pain she felt at the mention of Ruth’s death. That pain would be with her for a long while. Losing her grandmother had left a wide, gaping hole in her heart. Alek’s love had helped her begin to heal, but she would always miss Ruth.
Sitting down at the table with the morning paper, Julia tried to focus her attention on the headlines. Soon the words blurred and ran together. The tears came as an unwelcome surprise, and she bent her head, hoping Anna wouldn’t notice.
The sound of the front door opening announced Alek’s return. Julia hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled up at him. She hadn’t fooled him, she realized, but it didn’t matter. He strolled over to her, his eyes full of love, and kissed her deeply.
Julia had trouble not losing herself in his kiss. It would have been so easy to let it lead to something more.…
Alek glanced impatiently over his shoulder at his sister. “I’ll give her the rest of the day off,” he whispered.
“Don’t be silly.”
The hunger in his eyes told her how serious he was. He raised her effortlessly from her chair, sat down and held her in his lap.
“You slept late?” he questioned, smoothing the hair away from her face.
“Very late. You should’ve gotten me up.”
“I was tempted. Tomorrow I will have no qualms about waking you.”
“Really?” she asked, loving him so much it felt as if she could hardly contain it. She saw Anna watching them and could tell that Alek’s sister was pleased at their closeness. “We’re going on a picnic?”
“Yes,” Alek said, his face brightening.
“Where?”
“That’s a surprise. Bring a sweater, an extra set of clothes and a…” He hesitated, as if searching for a word, something he rarely did. “A kite.”
“Kite…as in a flying-in-the-wind kite?”
He nodded enthusiastically.
“Alek,” she said, studying him, “Are you taking me to the ocean?”
“Yes, my love, the ocean. And,” he added, “we’re leaving our cell phones and BlackBerries behind.”
Julia had no problem with that directive.
Within fifteen minutes they were on their way. Anna’s basket was tucked away in the backseat, along with an extra set of clothes for each of them, several beach towels, a blanket—and no fewer than five different kites, all of which Alek had bought while he was out.
He drove to Ocean Shores. The sun shone brightly and the surf pounded the sand with a roar that echoed toward them. The scent of salt stung the air. Sea gulls soared overhead, looking for an opportune meal. There were plenty of people, but this was nothing like the crowded beaches along the Oregon and California coasts.
Alek parked the car and found them an ideal spot to spread out their blanket and bask in the sunshine. Julia removed her shoes and ran barefoot in the warm sand, chasing after him.
“This is perfect,” she cried, throwing out her arms. “I love it.”
Alek returned to the car for their picnic basket and the kites and joined her on the blanket. He looked more relaxed than she could ever remember seeing him. He sank down beside her and stretched out with a contented sigh.
The wind buffeted them and a minute later, Alek moved, positioning himself behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and inhaled slowly, drawing the salty air into his lungs. Julia did the same, breathing in the fresh clean scent of the sea.
“It’s so peaceful here,” she murmured. There were a number of activities going on around them, including horseback riding, kite flying, a football-throwing contest, even a couple of volleyball games, but none of those distracted her from the serenity she experienced.
“I thought you’d feel this way.” He kissed the side of her neck.
Julia relaxed against his strength, letting him absorb her weight.
“My mother often brought Anna and me to the Black Sea after our father was killed.”
Julia knew shockingly little about her husband’s life before he came to the United States. “How old were you when he died?”
“Ten. Anna was seven. It was 1986.”
“How did he die?”
It seemed an eternity passed before Alek spoke, and when he did his voice was low. “He was murdered. I don’t think we will ever know the real reason. They came, the soldiers, in the middle of the night. We were all asleep. I woke to my mother’s screams but by the time I got past the soldier guarding the door, my father was already dead.”
“Oh, Alek.” Julia’s throat tightened with the effort to hold back tears.
“We learned from someone who risked his life to tell us that the KGB suspected my father of some illegal activity—we never heard the details. It made no sense to us since my father was a loyal Communist. Like me, he worked as a chemist.”
“Oh, Alek. How terrible for all of you.”
“Yes,” he agreed, “and it nearly destroyed my mother. If it hadn’t been for Anna and me, I believe my mother would have died, too. Not at the soldiers’ hands, but from grief.”
“What happened afterward?”