CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Thursday, July 13
Stazi walked up to her parents’ home in Buffalo Grove and wondered why she’d been summoned. The phone call she’d received earlier from her mother left her with no other option but to show up and have dinner as ordered.
The whole thing seemed strange because her parents rarely demanded her presence, and certainly not in the middle of the work week. Noticing her mother’s beautiful roses, she wondered what had happened that required her presence.
The front door opened and her mother gave her the same loving smile she always did. Stazi figured it was a good sign for what was about to come. “Hi, Mama.”
“Hello, darling.”
The moment she was enveloped in her mother’s arms, she felt a thousand times better than she had all week. “Everything okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Leaning back, she studied her mother’s face and then gave her a smile. “You said I had to come tonight or risk your eternal unhappiness.”
Her mother waved her hand back and forth and laughed. “Sometimes, I use drama to make you girls do as I ask.” Taking Stazi’s hand, she led her back into the kitchen. “Dinner is almost ready. Sit and we’ll have a little nosh.”
Stazi sat in the chair that she’d been sitting in for the last twenty-seven years and looked around her mother’s warm kitchen. The same apple wallpaper was still up and the Matryoshka dolls sat along the bookcase just like they always had. Even the Khokhloma wooden utensils her father had painted years ago had not moved. “What’s been happening since we saw each other last week?”
Her mother gave her a small smile as she set out the zakuski. “I made your favorites: pickled cucumbers and stuffed eggs. Eat.”
“Where’s Papa?”
“Where he always is at this time of night. In his workshop creating his next masterpiece.”
Stazi lifted a stuffed egg and popped it into her mouth. As she enjoyed the familiar flavors, she thought about her parents’ lives and wondered how they’d managed a happy marriage for thirty-five years. They worked together every day at their shop and then came home and spent more time together. “How is business, Mama? Has the wedding season been crazy?”
“You don’t know the crazy brides we’ve had this year.” She took out two glasses from the cupboard, filled them with tea, and then sat down. “We go from one bridezilla to the next.”
“What about the grooms? Do they give you a hard time as well?”
“No, by the time they come in to order their wedding suit, they’re resigned to their fate and are as easy to deal with as children.”
“Mama, that’s a very pessimistic view.”
“Pff…I’m a realist.”
Stazi sipped her tea and held up her hands. “Are you going to tell me what I came for before Papa comes in or do I have to wait?”
“We’ve had a house guest for the last couple of days and I thought you might like to know who it was.”
“Sure, tell me who.”
“Hank Coleman came by on Monday night and didn’t leave until Wednesday afternoon.”
“Whaaat?”
“Your boyfriend is heartbroken and came to ask our advice and decided to stay for a couple of days.”
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. We got into a big fight and broke up.” Crossing her arms, she gave her mother a smile. “He told me he didn’t want to date.”
“Oy vey, how is it that all of my girls are like mules, so stubborn?” Mama slapped the table and shook her head. “I have had the pleasure of hearing every detail of the argument you two had more than once and I have to say you two deserve one another.”
“Mama, you can’t be on his side. He behaved badly and gave me an ultimatum.”
“I’m always on your side, which is why I made you come over so that I can talk some sense into you. He is a good man and loves you more than anything in the world. You’re going to have hundreds more arguments over the course of your lifetime together, so you might as well figure out how to fix it now.”
“What did he say when he came over?”
“What didn’t he say? My goodness, that man can talk. He told us everything about your last month together and all of the things you two faced.” She shook her head and frowned. “I don’t like that you didn’t tell Papa and me about how big a threat you were under. A Ukrainian oligarch and the Bratva knocking on your door is not a small thing, Stazi.”
“I know. It’s just that I didn’t want you guys to worry. I figured you’d had enough of that when we were in St. Petersburg.”
“It is not your job to shield us from the truth. We are here to protect you and, apparently, Hank is too.”
“Yeah, he takes that job a little too seriously.”
“How can he not? He’s been in the military since he was eighteen, and protecting someone is like breathing to him. You may not understand it, but you have to accept it because that’s who he is.”
“I know, but it’s a lot to handle when he’s constantly hovering and telling me what to do.”
“Do you love him, Stazi?”
She took a sip of her tea and nodded. “With my whole heart, Mama.”
“He feels the same about you, so I think it’s time the two of you work this out.” Standing, she gave her a small smile. “If you don’t, he may decide to move in here permanently.”
“Did he sleep in my room?”
“Of course he did.”
“He’d better not have been a snoop and looked in my diary.”
“I’m sure he didn’t.”
Stazi gave her mother a get real look and served herself some of the pickled cucumbers. “I don’t want to be the one to make the first move because then he’ll think he can give me ultimatums all the time, and I don’t want that.”
“Trust me, darling, he thinks no such thing. From what I can tell, he would do anything to make things right.”
“Then why hasn’t he called? Why is he coming over here and staying in my room?”
“Because he has no idea what to do and he doesn’t want to make it worse.”
“That’s dumb.”
“Maybe so, but love makes people dumb. Your father was so afraid of me not accepting his invitation to dinner that it took him a year to ask me out.”
“Papa seems like he wouldn’t be afraid of anything.”
“He was afraid of me until he was sure that I felt the same way about him. The moment I told him how I felt, he relaxed and things between us became beautiful. Before that, he was uptight and nervous and not a lot of fun to be around.”
“Hank is controlling and bossy.”
“And I imagine a lot of other things too.”
“Yes, he’s courageous, smart, handsome, honorable, and a little funny.”
“So, tell him how you feel and see what happens.”
“I don’t know, Mama…”
“Think about it.” She stood and walked over to the stove. “Go tell Papa dinner is almost ready. We’re having pierogis and some nice roast chicken.”
“Did you cook for Hank when he was here?”
“I cook every night. You think I’m not going to feed a guest?”
“Of course not. I just wondered if he enjoyed it.”
Putting her hand on her hip, she pointed the spoon at Stazi. “Everybody enjoys my cooking. Him especially.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”
“Don’t talk nonsense and go get your father.”
“Yes, Mama.”
***
Stazi walked into her father’s workshop and inhaled the familiar scent of paint, lacquer, and solvents. The combination was one of her favorites and probably had something to do with the career she chose. “Hi, Papa.”
“Ангел, you finally come see your old papa.”
Her father had been calling her Angel for as long as she could remember and she didn’t mind hearing it now. “Mama says it’s time for dinner.”
“Is Hank here or are you two still in a spat?”
“Just me, Papa.”
“He’s a nice boy. I don’t mind if he comes again, but maybe not stay so long next time.”
Stazi ignored the comment and wandered around her father’s workshop. “What are you working on?”
He flipped up his magnifying glasses and held up a small square. “I’m adding the horses to the painting. What do you think?”
Carefully, Stazi took the treasure into her hands and studied the intricate detail of the farm scene her father was creating. “Are you still using the brushes made of squirrel hair?”
“Yes, can you see how they allow me to create the right texture for the animals?”
“It’s beautiful, Papa.”
“You want me to make you a papier-mâché box so that you can paint it?”
“Just like when I was little.” Handing the box back to her father, she shrugged. “I don’t have time to paint right now. The Modigliani project is taking up all of my time.”
Leaning back, her father collected his paint brushes and then put them into a glass jar. “How is old Amedeo holding up against all the scrutiny?”
“So far so good. We have completed the initial examination of ‘Madam Pompadour’ and are moving on to the next set of tests. We used a computer to analyze the brushstrokes and then employed a technique called infrared reflectography.”
“Infa what?”
“It’s an infrared camera that lets us see what is below the surface of the paint. It’s fascinating to see what’s invisible to the eye.”
“So much science is used for everything. Are you ever going to just examine the painting with your eyes?”
“Of course, Papa. At some point, I will be counting the strings in the canvas to see if they match paintings produced at the same time.”
“Now, that I understand.” Swiveling on his chair, he raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do about that man who’s heart you broke?”
Stomping her foot, Stazi let out a groan. “I did no such thing. He is the one who is breaking things.”
Holding up a hand, he shook his head. “Women are a thousand times stronger than men when it comes to affairs of the heart.” Tilting his chin toward the house, he let out a laugh. “When I met your mother, I had just completed my military service and I thought I was—what you call it—hot shit?”
“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”
Waving his hand, he smiled. “Anyway, I thought a lot of myself because I was a trained soldier and had survived deployment to Afghanistan. You probably don’t remember but the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan lasted nine years and the mujahideen never gave up. Almost a million people died in the conflict.”
“You never really talked about it, Papa.”
“Not something you want to remember, Anastasia. Where was I going with this?”
“Women are stronger than men.”
“Of course. So, I came back from war and I’m about to enter university and I think I am real man because I had been in war. You know…very tough, not afraid of anything, and then I met your mother.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing for a very long time. We became friends and it took me almost a year to ask her out. Big, tough soldier was afraid of small, beautiful woman.”
“What made you decide to finally do something about your feelings?”
“Your mother let me know that she would very much like to spend time with me and so I invited her to dinner and we’ve been together ever since.”
“Good thing Mama knew what she wanted. If it were up to you this whole family might never have happened.”
“I would’ve gotten there eventually.”
Patting her father’s big shoulder, she laughed. “Sure, Papa.”
“I enjoyed getting to know Hank. We had a lot to talk about and he enjoyed hearing my stories about Afghanistan.”
“You fought one war and thirty years later he was fighting another.”
“Another thirty years, there will be a new one. It’s the nature of the world.”
Stazi moved around some tubes of paint and then looked out the small window of the workshop. “So, what should I do Papa?”
“If you love him, then don’t make yourself suffer by being stubborn.”
“He started it.”
“So, you end it. When he was here, he talked endlessly about how he felt about you and what kind of life he wanted to build. He also made us tell him every story we could remember about you. He came to the shop and sat with me while I worked on a suit and peppered me with questions. Good thing I’m a natural storyteller. Otherwise, the whole thing could’ve been a disaster.”
“Are you going to make him a suit too?”
“Of course. He wears those awful canvas pants and T-shirts. I told him if he wanted my daughter to take him seriously, then he needed to wear better clothes.”
“Papa, I don’t care about clothes and you know it.”
Covering his ears, he shook his head. “Don’t say such things. Your mama and I have made you a beautiful wardrobe and we expect you to wear it.”
“Of course, Papa.” Looking at the small clock on the table, she took her father’s hand. “Let’s go in because the last thing we want is Mama complaining about us being late for dinner.”
“True. No need to make her upset if we can avoid it.”
“Is that what you’ve done to have a happy marriage?”
He picked up the jar with his paintbrushes, then turned off the light over his worktable. “We both do it. We each try and do the things that will make the other happy and avoid the things that will cause a fight. It’s not rocket science. It’s simply doing the right thing.”
They walked out of his workshop as the sun began sinking in the sky, and Stazi realized that relationships could be as easy or as difficult as you made them. Her parents had figured out how to live and work together with very little conflict and she should be able to do the same thing with Hank.
All it was going to take was time and patience.