Final Score (Madison Howlers #5)

by Camellia Tate

  It was hard for me to imagine how it must feel the other way around. Especially if you’d gone to Russia to find your soulmate. I knew people who were married to people who carried their soulmark name, but no one ever knew for sure if that person was really their soulmate.

  Dating whoever you wanted seemed a lot easier.

  “Would you go back to Russia?” I asked. “I mean, it is pretty amazing,” I added teasingly. I, of course, loved Russia.

  The light changed. Maria moved us smoothly onto the road that would lead to the rink. “I would if I had a reason,” she answered. “There are definitely things that I miss. But then, there are things that I’d miss from America, too. My sister and my mom, most of all.” I could understand that. I missed my family. Hockey had been enough of a reason to learn to live with that. Without it, I didn’t know if I would have wanted to move.

  “I’m lucky, I can do my job from anywhere, more or less. I wouldn’t give up my career just for solyanka and ice cream.”

  “And you can get some very good solyanka here,” I pointed out. “Have you been to the Russian place downtown? Babushka? It’s great.” I tried not to go there too often because it served well in overcoming homesickness. If I went more regularly, I was sure it’d make me homesick. As good as the food was, it was no real match for my mama’s cooking. Or especially my babushka’s cooking.

  But whenever I got too homesick, Babushka the restaurant was a great place to go. It served well as somewhere to speak Russian and, in general, feel closer to home.

  “You’re kidding?” Maria asked. “There’s a Russian place in Madison? I never knew that!” I’d heard the expression ‘her face lit up’ before, but I’d never seen it. Maria genuinely seemed to glow, her eyes sparkling with her excitement. “I Googled it when I came back, but that was five years ago now.”

  She pulled in to the car park of the skating rink, her brightness dimming just a little. “Well, it may not have been either of our mom’s fault, but I’m glad I got to meet you, Lev.” Maria smiled at me as she turned the engine off. “And not just because I have a Russian restaurant to look up now.”

  I felt disappointment pool low in my stomach, something I’d never experienced upon seeing the Howlers’ ice rink. I realized that it was because I liked talking to Maria. Outside of the team, there weren’t a lot of people I got on with so easily. This was refreshing.

  “Can I take you? To the restaurant? As a thank you,” I offered. “I appreciate your help, truly, and I love Russian food, so...” I gave her a hopeful look. “Besides, I could use more friends and you seem pretty alright.” There was a definite tone of teasing in my voice, I made sure of that. Maria did seem pretty alright, though.

  Looking straight at me, Maria’s eyes narrowed for a moment. I didn’t know what she was looking for in my expression. Whatever it was, she seemed to find it. Her lips curved into that sunny smile again as she gave a decisive nod. “Yeah, you can take me. I did make sure you got here in time for your game, after all. And I like Russian food more than I like hockey.”

  That almost made me frown, but Maria laughed. I realized she’d been hoping to get a reaction out of me. It made me smile back. “Here, give me your number and I’ll call you to set up a time.” She handed me her sleek black phone, unlocked so that I could type my number in.

  Once I had, I gave it back to her. “I’m free Saturday evening if that’s any good for you,” I offered. It didn’t take us long to figure out when we could go. By the time I was leaving Maria’s car, we had a plan. It was... surprisingly easy. Easier than I’d ever made a friend before. It would be interesting to see how this played out.

  She wished me luck in the game and I decided to take the win that night as a sign that maybe my tire bursting wasn’t a bad thing after all.

  Chapter Two

  Having a soulmark written in the Russian alphabet had been bewildering at 13-years-old. At that age, I still believed that my mom knew everything. When she couldn’t tell me what my soulmark said, I was distraught. For about an hour, before I made mom drive me to our local library.

  One of the librarians there was able to give us a clue. After that, I poured over beginner’s guides to Russian, carefully working out each letter. Luckily, there were only three of them. Twenty minutes later, I knew that the ‘Пев’ that had appeared along my ribcage was the Russian way of writing ‘Lev’.

  It was a name I’d never heard of. I assumed there couldn’t be that many of them. I was thirteen. Madison High School was practically my whole world. I could hardly conceive of how different another country could be. It wasn’t until I arrived in Russia at twenty-one that I realized how common a name Lev actually is.

  Lev Popov must’ve been the sixth Lev I’d met. At least.

  He was the first outside of Russia. When I was younger and more idealistic, I might’ve thought that meant something.

  These days, I could accept that it was a common name and move swiftly on.

  My mom was a whole different story. She was so keen for me to find the One. Maybe I just wouldn’t mention Lev by name. Not to her, anyway.

  I left him at the Madison Ice Rink. Traffic on the way out was a lot lighter than it had been going in. I was still late. I sent my sister a quick text, then got myself back on the route I’d originally been following.

  “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” I apologized as soon as I was through the door. “But it was for a good cause. Well, sort of a good cause. I stopped to help someone who needed a spare tire. Only my spare wouldn’t fit. He was going to be late, so I gave him a ride.” It was humanitarian, right?

  “Is dinner ruined?” I hoped dinner wasn’t ruined. Emily was an amazing cook.

  “No, of course dinner isn’t ruined.” My sister laughed. “It’s just in the oven getting crispier,” she teased. I followed her to the kitchen, happily accepting the glass of coke she offered me. I would’ve loved a glass of wine, but I had to drive home after this.

  The food smelled amazing! It always did. I had no idea how Emily did it. Even if I followed the exact same recipe, my cooking never smelled that good. “I hope you don’t plan to tell mom you stopped at the side of a road to help a stranger. She’s going to spend at least an hour telling you how you could be killed.”

  I laughed. Usually, Emily was right, mom would have words with me about what she considered ‘reckless’ behavior. But I knew something Emily didn’t. “Even a handsome male stranger?” I teased back. “A handsome, male, Russian stranger?” Mom would definitely make an exception if I told her the man I’d rescued had been called Lev.

  “Anyway, he complimented your sweater,” I informed Emily. Maybe that wasn’t quite true. Lev’s words hadn’t exactly been complimentary. I was happy to tell Emily that they were. It was a great sweater. I’m sure Lev would’ve said so if he’d thought of it.

  “A handsome Russian stranger!” Emily gasped in much the same way I imagined mom might. She laughed, giving away the fact that, unlike mom, she didn’t think every Russian - or even every Lev - I ever met was the One. “Well, he obviously had good taste. That sweater is great,” she informed me confidently.

  Getting the pasta bake out of the oven, Emily set it down carefully. “Not to actually sound like mom, but did you at least ask him out or something?”

  I rolled my eyes. I didn’t mind Emily asking. She’d met her soulmate years ago, and she couldn’t have been happier than she was in her relationship with Tanya. I knew she wanted that for me. So did mom.

  It wasn’t as if I was against the idea of meeting my soulmate. I’d just met enough Levs already not to assume that Lev Popov was going to be the right one.

  “He invited me out to a Russian restaurant, to say thank you,” I informed Emily. “I didn’t even know that there was a Russian restaurant in Madison.” I was more excited about that than I was about seeing Lev again. Not that he hadn’t been perfectly nice.

  The way Emily ‘ooh’ed at that made me roll my eyes again. Lev had been prett
y clear about this being a friendly kind of going out. He’d even said that he wanted more friends. And truthfully, I could probably use more friends, too.

  “So what does this mystery Russian guy do?” Emily asked. “Does he have a name?” That second question made me glad that soulmarks in this country were a lot more private than they were in Russia. My mom knew my soulmark because she’d been there to help me figure out what it read. Emily didn’t. She knew it was in Russian, but she didn’t know what my soulmate’s name was.

  “His name’s Lev,” I answered.

  What was probably more exciting to my sister was what Lev did for a living. “He plays for the Madison Howlers. That’s why I gave him a ride - so that he wouldn’t be late for the game.”

  “Wait, what?!” Emily exclaimed exactly as I had expected her to. Unlike me, Emily was a huge hockey fan. Maybe not as much as Tanya was. I could see the question coming before she’d even asked it. “Can he get us tickets? Oh my God, can he get me some signed stuff to give Tanya for our anniversary?”

  Seeing how I’d met Lev exactly once and for no more than twenty minutes, I really wasn’t sure if I could make that promise. “Lev. Popov?” Emily repeated. “Ooh, I’ve seen his pictures, he’s hot.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Even in jeans and a shirt, it had been obvious that Lev was athletic. He wasn’t much taller than me, but he was broad in all the right ways. Thinking back, it wasn’t his looks that I remembered. Not really. I could picture his smile and the way his eyes crinkled when I made him laugh.

  “I don’t want to impose on him,” I said honestly. If Lev was looking for a friend, maybe he wouldn’t mind signing something. “Let’s see how it goes, yeah? Don’t start hinting to Tanya that you’ve got her an amazing gift. Not until I come back to you on whether it’s something he’d be willing to do.” I knew my sister. Enthusiasm sometimes carried her further than was wise.

  Emily knew that this was a fault she suffered. I wasn’t surprised by the huff she gave. “Fine,” she nodded. “But like... try, okay? Tanya’s going to owe me so much for next year.” That made me laugh. Of course, that was what was the important thing here. “I’m joking,” Emily added. But we both knew she probably wasn't. My sister was very competitive.

  “A hockey player! All the interesting things always happen to you,” Emily complained.

  I laughed. “Are you saying that Tanya isn’t interesting?” I teased. I liked Tanya. She was a lot more mellow than either Emily or me. That was probably why she got on so well with both of us.

  “But I admit, it is quite exciting to meet one of Madison’s hockey players,” I confessed. Even though I didn’t follow the sport, I knew how popular the players were. I might even get spotted having dinner with one! That thought that sent a little thrill through me.

  Reaching for the top cabinet, I pulled down two plates for us to eat off. “So is he good? At hockey?” I asked. I could watch a game or two, but it was easier just to ask.

  “Oh, yeah, he’s great,” Emily nodded. “Not quite the level of Hayden Nickson or James Beaumont, but he often plays the first line.” Both Nickson and Beaumont were names I recognized. The Madison Howlers had come up in the league a lot because of them. Everyone in Madison knew that, even people like me who didn’t follow hockey very closely.

  Emily urged me to take the plates through as she followed with the food. Once we were seated, she told me to get started. “I think he’s the only Russian player we’ve got at the moment, though. Must kind of suck not to be able to speak your native language. Did you speak Russian with him?”

  I smiled, remembering how excited Lev had been when I’d mentioned living in Moscow. “A little,” I answered. “You know how rusty I am. It’s been five years!” After coming back from Moscow, I hadn’t carried on practicing my Russian like I could have done.

  After everything that had happened there, I hadn’t wanted to.

  Now that so much water was under the bridge, I could look back and see the good and the bad of the time I’d spent living away from home. Not everything about Russia had been terrible. I was telling Lev the truth when I’d told him how much I missed the food.

  “Maybe I’ll start up again,” I mused. “He was so excited to get to talk Russian with somebody, Emily.”

  “That’s... really sweet, actually,” Emily decided. I had to smile. It was sweet but I didn’t think Lev had asked me out just because of that. My Russian was very rusty; I was sure he could’ve found much better people to speak Russian with. I did, however, feel confident that my excitement about Russian food was unparalleled.

  Taking a bite of the food, I gave a soft moan. It tasted as good as it looked. “Yes.” Emily nodded. “It’s great. So great that you should thank me by getting your hockey player to get my wife a signed jersey,” she informed me so seriously I almost choked on the food trying to suppress a laugh.

  “He’s not my hockey player,” I corrected. The look Emily gave me was so obvious that I didn’t even need to hear what was coming. “Just because it’s been a while since I met anyone I wanted to date, doesn’t mean I’m going to make a move on the first guy I encounter!”

  A new friend would be good. And a lot less hassle than a new boyfriend. I knew that mom and Emily meant well. They’d both found happiness with the soulmates - even if dad had passed away after mom had spent less than fifteen years with him. They wanted me to find happiness too.

  But I was happy. I liked my job, I loved spending time with my family. Who had time to add a partner on top of all that?

  “If this ends up being more than just one dinner, I will ask him,” I promised. “But only so that you keep feeding me.”

  “Deal!” Emily exclaimed happily. “Now, have more of the food,” she added, pushing the pasta dish towards me even though my plate was still half full. She let go of the topic, moving on to tell me about what she thought Tanya had planned for their anniversary.

  I let the chatter distract me from thoughts about anything else, especially with how amazing the food tasted. As delicious as it was, I couldn’t help feeling excited about Russian food. I hoped it would be good. The recommendation of a man from Russia spoke pretty highly of it!

  Maybe, if the food was good enough, I’d even have my birthday there this year.

  Birthdays had always been a big deal in our house growing up. Bucking gender stereotypes, dad used to do all the planning. He’d pick a theme and spend weeks putting together decorations and gifts and arranging an appropriate activity.

  For my ninth birthday, dad bought me a Tigger t-shirt and took me, Emily and my friend Rosa trampolining. When he brought us home, there was a Tigger cake, too. I still had the pictures up in my office, reminding me of the good times.

  After dad died, mom had to pick up where he left off. And now, Emily and I tried to continue the tradition.

  “What do you think about a Russian theme, for my birthday?” I asked Emily. “Do you think mom’ll take it as a sign or something?” I didn’t want to accidentally give mom the impression I’d suddenly decided I wanted to spend time looking for Mr. Right.

  “Almost definitely.” My sister nodded. It made me hum thoughtfully. I understood why mom tried so hard to find me my soulmatch. But obsessing about it was not going to help anyone. So maybe a birthday party with a Russian theme would be a bit too much.

  “Besides,” Emily said, drawing my attention back to her. “Mom and I already kind of have a plan for your birthday. You shouldn’t go off and plan a new thing.” I knew that there was no point in asking her what the plan was, Emily was exceptionally good with secrets.

  She laughed, probably knowing that I wanted to ask. “You’ll like it, I promise. It involves something you’ve always wanted to do.” Which, I realized, didn’t actually narrow it down all that much.

  There were a lot of things I would like to do - if only I had the time. Emily said I worked too much. She had a point. But I loved my work. It gave me such a sense of calm to sit down with someone’s
accounts and methodically go through them, finding ways to improve on how much interest they made or where they could make a smarter investment.

  Finding a balance between working as much as I wanted to and doing everything else was a challenge. My birthday was one day every year when I did get to do something that I enjoyed. It didn’t surprise me to learn that mom and Emily were already working on it.

  “I won’t plan anything,” I promised. “Just let me know if there’s anything I need to bring. Or wear. I don’t want it to be a repeat of mom’s 50th.” I’d turned up to bowling wearing sandals and no socks.

  Emily nodded. “Of course, I’ll tell you,” she assured me. “But closer to the time. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.” That was a fair compromise. I nodded. It always felt nice how hard all of us worked towards making the others’ birthdays nice.

  Birthdays were special. You should be made to feel special on them. One day a year that’s all about you, my dad used to say.

  I still missed him every year. I knew that mom and Emily did too. We’d done our best to forge ourselves into a new family unit after his death. We were happy, we loved each other. Mom had always said that didn’t take away from also missing him. But he wouldn’t want us to be sad. Especially not on our birthdays.

  “So tell me about all the boring things you got up to this week,” I teased. Emily’s life wasn’t boring, not to me. Even if she didn’t think it was as interesting as meeting an ice hockey player.

  As we powered through the pasta bake, Emily told me all about her latest knitting project, and how she and Tanya had decided to watch every movie that made IMDB’s Top 100 Horror Movies. Even though Tanya would shriek at every jump scare. Emily said it was worth it, for how excited Tanya got when the movie came to a satisfying conclusion.

  I told Emily about the rest of my week, too. After all, meeting Lev was only 20 minutes out of the ten thousand or so that made up Monday to Sunday. She laughed at my story of the mysterious squeaking I kept hearing at the grocery store - before I realized it was coming from the wheel of my trolley!