CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Your mama’s gone again,” Tatiana said in Russian.
Every Monday morning, Tess woke up at the crack of dawn and drove to the Back Acres Retirement Village for yoga with her grandmother. It didn’t do a lot for her pride to sit in a room full of seniors who were sixty-five plus and be breathing harder than they were by the end of each session. But she did it anyway so she could spend time with her grandmother and stay relatively healthy at the same time.
It wasn’t doing Tess a lot of good to be in Prayer Pose and talking about her mother. Theodora wasn’t good for relaxation techniques. Not to mention there was always a small part of her that held out hope that Theodora had changed. That she was happy running the Clip n’ Curl and that she was content to stay and live a normal life with her family.
“Where’d she go?” she asked, keeping their conversation in Russian so the others couldn’t eavesdrop.
“I’m not sure, but she left with Carl Robinson.”
Tess gasped and broke her pose to stare at her grandmother. “Are you kidding me? Carl wouldn’t be that stupid.”
“Your mother has spent her life making men stupid as long as they feed her addiction. You know that better than anyone.”
Tess sighed and took a deep breath. Then another and went back into Prayer Pose. Meditation wasn’t going to work for her today. “It’s just that she seemed to be doing better. She was fine when we were at the salon on Friday. And it’s been months since she’s been to the casino.”
“That doesn’t mean she hasn’t been feeding her addiction in the meantime. There’s online gaming and scratch-offs at the gas station. She just hasn’t had the cash flow to make a big trip. And apparently she found the cash flow with Carl. She called me Saturday night, and I could tell she was upset about something. She’d heard about your joyride with one of those hotties you’ve got working for you.”
Tess was a little taken aback at her grandmother’s use of the word “hotties,” but mostly she was just confused. She moved into Warrior Pose and said, “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You know how competitive Theodora is. Part of her problem is she wants what everyone else has, and she thinks she’s entitled to it. It’s part of her sickness. So once she heard the news about your ride through town, she automatically assumed you got him into bed and won the bet. She was counting on that money, you know.”
Tess knew that was part of the sickness as well. Because a normal person wouldn’t have counted on money that was never theirs to count on. They all moved to Downward Dog and Tess felt the blood rush to her head. Her hair was up in a bun, but sweaty tendrils were sticking to her face. She wasn’t a good sweater.
“But what about Carl?” she asked. “He should know better. They should all know better. It’s not like Theodora doesn’t have a reputation.”
“It’s a competition to her, and Carl or the sheriff would be the next best thing to the men who work for you. My guess is the sheriff didn’t bite, so she called Carl to come fix a leaky pipe or something. I heard it all from Janet Rhodes, who lives next door to Carl and Tamara. Janet said Carl left for a plumbing call early Sunday morning at Theodora’s, and she said there was plumbing going on, but nothing to do with leaky pipes if you get my drift.”
Tess’s lip curled in disgust and they switched positions again, this time down into a push-up and then immediately into Child’s Pose. She was already winded and sweaty, but her grandmother looked like she’d just stepped out of an AARP magazine. Even in her yoga clothes, she was still wearing her pearls, and her hair was perfectly in place.
“You know Carl is well-to-do,” Tatiana said. “He ought to be charging two hundred dollars for ten minutes of unclogging a toilet. And money and how to get it is all Theodora would have in mind when she invited him over. How she got him to go off with her is a mystery, but she managed to do it. She’ll be back when his money runs out, without a lick of remorse. Whether or not Carl has the guts to come back with her will be the question. Word has it that Tamara is fit to be tied. Their whole savings account is gone. I wouldn’t be surprised if the sheriff has to get involved when Theodora comes back. Tamara isn’t one of those women to stand by and let people get away with stuff like that. It’s disgraceful.”
“Tell me about it,” Tess said, repeating the positions for the second circuit. “Aren’t you embarrassed? She’s your daughter. How can you stand all the gossip?”
“Easy,” Tatiana said. “I moved to the city where no one knows or cares who she is. You think these old people give two hoots about Theodora Sherman? They’re too busy keeping their meds straightened out and regulating their bowel movements.”
“That doesn’t help me a whole lot,” Tess said.
“Buck up, girl,” she said. “No one has to answer for Theodora except Theodora. She doesn’t define you, and you shouldn’t let anyone make you feel that way. Hold your head up high. She is what she is, and you are what you are. One has nothing to do with the other.”
The instructor called for the Bridge Pose, and Tess muttered, “Good grief,” under her breath, and then worked her way awkwardly into a back bend. She glanced over at Tatiana and saw she’d reached the position easily. “Ridiculous.”
“Hey, can you keep it down,” the old guy next to her said. “I can’t concentrate with all that foreign yapping. This is America for God’s sake.”
She and Tatiana both responded in kind, neither of their replies something they would’ve said in English. Fortunately for the old guy, the poses were getting harder and Tess needed all her concentration and air. Old people yoga wasn’t for the weak.
When they were finished, Tess lay on her yoga mat and wondered why she put herself through the torture. The only thing that got her up off the floor was the fact that everyone else was already up and out the door, going about their active lifestyles. She crawled onto her hands and knees and then pushed herself to her feet.
“Come on, girl, you’re embarrassing me,” Tatiana said. “I’ve got a reputation here.”
Tess thought it ironic that she was the embarrassment instead of her mother, but that was the point of distancing oneself she guessed.
“If we hurry, we can still make breakfast. They stop serving at eight-thirty to get ready for the lunch crowd. I could use some pancakes.”
“Right, sounds good,” Tess lied, thinking she’d throw up anything she put in her mouth.
They made it to the little restaurant just in time for breakfast, and the hostess didn’t look too happy about the fact. The sun was shining, but it was already close to ninety outside, despite the fact it was still early morning, so they opted to sit inside in the air-conditioning instead of on the covered patio.
Tatiana would occasionally dab at her temples with the blue towel that was draped casually across her shoulders, but that was the only sign she’d spent the morning working out. Tess’s yoga pants and tank top were soaked through with sweat, and she’d caught her reflection in one of the windows as they’d walked by and it wasn’t pretty. Her face was beet-red and her top knot had slipped to the side of her head. She immediately drank the ice water that was put in front of her and waited for it to be refilled.
“Do you ever think about your time in Russia?” she asked her grandmother. Deacon’s words had been on her mind, about how their upbringing and language were different because of their Mafiya ties.
“Of course not,” she said dismissively. “Why would I?”
“Maybe because it’s where you came from. Those are your roots.”
Her grandmother’s lips tightened into a fine line and she got that steely look in her eye. “There’s not much about those days worth remembering. We lived like royalty. My father was a very influential man. But things change. Politics change. People change. And their alliances change. Much the same happened during the Romanov era. In Russia, people who are in power can fall very quickly. One day we were royalty, and one day my father was dead and we were escaping with only our lives and nothing else. I was just a girl. My life has been here.”
“You never keep in . . . contact with anyone from that time?”
“Who’s to keep in contact with? Everyone is dead. I’m an old lady.”
“I keep hearing the Russian Mafiya has moved back into power,” Tess said carefully.
Tatiana was very still as her hot tea was served. How anyone could drink hot tea in this heat after a workout, Tess wasn’t sure, but her grandmother lived on the stuff. She took her time adding lumps of sugar and stirring it precisely.
She finally stopped stirring and looked at Tess with those clear blue eyes. “I think you’re watching too much television. This is my country now. What happens there no longer concerns me, and it’s a time I choose to forget. I had to live with memories of those days while your grandfather was alive. And I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but it was a big relief when your grandfather died. He courted trouble wherever he went. I’ve had almost thirty years of blessed peace, and I’m not looking back.”
Their food was served, and Tess wondered why she’d bothered to work out at all. The calories sitting in front of her probably doubled what she had burned.
“Now tell me about this motorcycle ride you took,” Tatiana said, waggling her brows. “I bet it wasn’t just the motorcycle you rode. You’ve got that look about you. I bet he put that Henry to shame. I never did like that boy. I told you when you were engaged, you can’t trust a man who carries a Waterpik in his pocket.”