EPILOGUE

BZZZT! BZZZT!

At the sound of the doorbell, Tabitha looked up from the box of dishes she was unpacking. Daniil, Misha and Anton had left only a few minutes ago to fetch the bookcase and barstools the Zaikovs had offered for the new apartment. They couldn’t be back yet, but maybe Daniil forgot something. She buzzed them in.

“Oh my gosh, what a cute place!” said Carrie, as she and a young woman with curly dark brown hair, came through the open front door.

“Thank you!” Tabitha set aside a stack of plates and rushed forward to take the large potted plant from Carrie’s arms. One of the plant’s sharp pale green leaves poked her hand. “This is lovely, but really you shouldn’t have. I’m not too good with plants.”

“It’s a spider plant, they’ll live through anything,” Carrie said. “Mine has survived sunless Moscow winters and extended periods of neglect. Delaware’s nothin’.”

Tabitha placed the plant in the front window on the short wooden table she and Daniil had purchased yesterday. The flea market Amy and Misha suggested had led to a few choice finds—-this table and the 1960’s sunburst clock that Carrie’s friend was admiring.

The woman turned and smiled. “Hi, I’m Hannah. My husband and I are friends of Carrie and Anton’s, and we drove down from New York for the weekend. I hope you don’t mind us crashing your moving day.”

“Not at all,” Tabitha said. Hannah looked like a New Yorker, in chic, artsy clothes that made her stand out in this jeans-and-t-shirt college town. “Were you a skater?”

“No, I work in publishing, but my husband Vladimir was a long time ago.”

“I’m sure they’ve recruited him to help move furniture,” Tabitha said, then turned to Carrie. “Did Amy come with you?”

“I’m right here.” She came in carrying her infant daughter; three-year-old Eli was close behind. Misha’s wife worked as an athletic trainer at the figure skating training center and had been an enormous help as Tabitha and Daniil searched for their first apartment. “The guys have loaded up the furniture and stopped to pick up some pizzas.”

“Sounds good, I’m absolutely starved,” Tabitha said. “One thing I’m enjoying about no longer being a competitive figure skater is being able to eat what I want.” She pressed in on her thighs. “Then again, I’d better watch it, or else I won’t fit into my wedding dress.”

Hannah laughed. “You sound just like my mom. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Are you having a big wedding?”

“No, just my family and some close friends. Between starting school, and a new job, plus Daniil’s skating season, there wasn’t time to plan anything elaborate.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” said Carrie. “Still, I can’t believe you pulled it together so quickly.”

Tabitha couldn’t believe it either. The months that followed Grenoble had been a whirlwind that included a stint as a guest judge on a TV talent contest, and then a three month tour with Champions on Ice. Performing had turned out to be a lot more fun than she’d realized. Though when the tour came to a close, she was happy to get off the road, she was thrilled to be invited back for next year.

But it had meant most of the wedding plans fell to Fiona, who’d offered to hold the wedding in her barn. Several of Tabitha’s aunts were helping with food, and decorating, while Fiona’s new boyfriend’s bluegrass band would provide the music. Samara, though busy with school, had created a video invitation, and was the maid of honor. Ruslan was standing as Daniil’s best man.

Amy spread a blanket down in an empty corner and set the baby on it. Little blond Eli wandered among the empty boxes in Tabitha’s living room, peeking into several. “Kitty?”

“No buddy, Miss Tabitha doesn’t have a kitty. At least not yet.”

“But I have a plant,” Tabitha said. “We’ll see how things go with that.”

The downstairs door opened, and the stairwell echoed with men’s laughter and the heavy bump of furniture being hauled up the stairs. Amy moved her son away from the door. “Eli stand back and make room for Daddy and his friends.”

Daniil was shouting. “Vlevo, vlevo zanosi! Net, vlevo!”

Then Anton. “Zastrialo! A, blyad, koleno!”

Carrie winced.

Tabitha dashed to open the door wider as Anton and Daniil came through with a large bookcase balanced between them. Misha and a handsome dark-haired man followed, each with a barstool. Ilya was last, carrying three boxes from the pizzeria down the street.

“Over there, against the wall.” Tabitha directed traffic from the center of the room. Daniil and Anton positioned the book case. Misha and Hannah’s husband Vladimir, set the barstools by the kitchen island, and then helped roll out the large rug. Chairs and a small sofa were pushed into place. Tabitha brought out napkins and a corkscrew to open the wine they’d brought.

They sat down to eat, and conversation jumped from Vladimir’s soon to release novel, to Hannah’s promotion, to the upcoming skating season, to Tabitha’s classes. Though she wouldn’t need to choose a major right away, she’d been thinking about sports psychology. It seemed like an excellent fit.

Things at the center were going well too. Their newest choreography client, Brett, would be here next week to put the final touches on his programs. Sergei would drop in to see him before he had to report for training camp with the Chicago Blackhawks. “Pretty cool that he signed with a pro team here,” Daniil said.

“I know Brett’s pretty happy about it. Even if they’re in different cities, at least they’re on the same continent.”

“That’s a very good thing,” Daniil said.

After everyone left, she and Daniil looked around at the still-messy, but promising apartment. It was larger than the last place she’d lived in LA and she loved the sunny front room, and the little balcony with enough room for two chairs.

It was the perfect place to begin their life together.

Daniil put his arm around Tabitha. “I love it. This is our first home. Nothing luxurious, just a place to come back to and be with the woman I love.”

“I’ll miss you while you’re off competing.”

“You’ll be so busy once classes start, the time will go like that,” he snapped his fingers. “And with Anton and Carrie trying to do more coaching here, I’ll be home more in the off season too.”

They went into the bedroom which was the one room they’d completely finished unpacking. The clothes were in the closet, pictures, including Samara’s rink trash collage, were on the wall. The new mattress had plenty of bounce.

Tabitha dropped her head and rolled her neck to loosen the stiffness. Daniil gripped her shoulders and kneaded the aching muscles in her upper back. As her tightness relaxed, she groaned deep in her throat. “Mmmmm. That feels good.”

He pushed aside her pony tail and kissed the nape of her neck. “You feel good. Have I mentioned how much I like your curly dishwater hair?”

She chuckled. “That’s fortunate, because blond up-keep is beyond my college student budget.” She spread her hands and inspected her stubby, bare nails worn down from two days of cleaning and unpacking. “No manicures, either. Tabitha Turner is no more.”

“That’s not true. The real Tabitha, the one I can’t wait to marry is standing right here. And you’re the sexiest woman alive, no matter what color your hair is.”

She turned in his arms and looked up at his handsome face; his cheeks were shadowed with his beard as he hadn’t shaved today. The liner around his eyes was more smeary than usual. “And it drives me wild to hear you say it.” She kissed him, and as tired as she was, she felt a stir of desire. “Even if we’re both a mess.”

His hands rested on her waist. “That’s easy enough to solve.”

He looped one finger through hers and guided her into the bathroom which still smelled of cleaner. The black and white octagonal tile floor was cool on her feet. Daniil pulled off his t-shirt, and then hers. He turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature.

Even though she’d spent most of the day scrubbing, sharing a shower with him made her want to grab the nearest sponge. She stepped out of her jeans and panties, then embraced him from behind. She could feel him growing hard inside his jeans, and she pressed a kiss to the new tattoo on his shoulder; an angel hovering above two linked golden bands, and a word spelled out in Cyrillic.

“Navsegda,” Tabitha said, tracing the letters with her fingertip.

He turned and smiled. “That’s right. Nasvegda means—”

“Forever,” she said, pressing her lips to his in a deep kiss that spoke of love in any language.

THE END