by RJ Scott
“Stan, I’m not the one who’ll be setting this up. I’m just—”
“Yes, yes, making good for poor children.” I shook and shook his hand. “Find good peoples for me and the foundation. We make summer hockey game and give all monies to the children.”
“Stan, it’s not going to be as easy as—”
I released his hand and went for the door. “Oh, yes, I know is not easy. But you are bacon saver, so you will pull my crispy fat pork meat from hot pan too. Many thanks!”
“Stan, I just…” I paused in the hall to check back with him. His eyes met mine, and he smiled just a little. “I’ll get things started for the Anatoli Lyamin Foundation.”
“You are good man, Layton Foxx.” I saluted him before heading down the hall into the dressing room. “Listen up, I have bigly news!”
Everyone dressing for morning skate quieted and looked my way. Tennant gave me a grin. It was so good to have my best friend back. Even if he wasn’t playing just yet, he would be soon, and then all would be right with the world. “I make big hockey game for summer, play for new charity for poor children in Europe. Who will sign up to do this with me?”
Every hand in the dressing room went up.
Erik
I’d never seen pink that was quite so… rosy. Think flamingo. Actually, think a whole flamboyance of flamingos in some kind of personal fight with strawberries and candy floss all in one place, and there was Eva’s newly painted room.
“I love it,” she said. She wasn’t squealing or smiling or dancing around in glee, but the way she stood in the middle of the rosy room, in awe even, made me all warm and glowy inside. When we’d picked out the colors, I wasn’t sure. I mean, I like pink, but this was… a lot. Galina had then put herself in charge, telling Eva that men knew nothing, and now she and Eva stood together in the center of the space, eyeing the walls thoughtfully.
“A space for posters,” Galina suggested.
Eva smiled then and looked over at me and Stan briefly. “Ten.”
“Ten posters,” Galina murmured, “Okay, wow, that’s a big space.”
Eva dipped her head and flushed the same color as her room. “No, can I have a poster of Ten?”
Stan huffed a laugh next to me. “And ones of goalie and winger,” he whispered, loud enough for Eva to hear.
“But you’re like… my pappa’s,” she finished after the pause. “And Ten’s so cute.”
Well, I couldn’t argue with that. Ten was cute, and if I was a teenage girl, or hell, if Ten had been playing when I was a teenager, then I’d have had a poster of him on my wall as well. No argument. Of course it would be right next to my Stan poster, but who said you can’t have two up there?
“I’m getting much bigly posters for you,” Stan said and vanished, probably to call the Railers and get posters, jerseys, pucks, and an array of sticks all signed by Ten. I followed him to stop him before he bought out the entire shop of Ten-related merchandise, and found him on the phone.
“Three, much big ones,” I heard him say, and I took the phone off him quickly.
“Hello?”
“Erik, that you?” Ten asked. Seemed like my man had bypassed the team shop and gone directly to the source.
“Ten, don’t listen to Stan. One poster is good and maybe a jersey in her size.”
“I can do that. Jared has a whole supply I need to sign for the next auction. Does she want it in one of those glass cabinets? I can get her a display case for pucks as well. Would she like that? What about a Tennant Rowe stick. We have some of those, and she’d grow into it.”
Oh my God, Stan and Ten were as bad as each other. “One poster, and a jersey she can wear is good.” It seemed to be down to me to stop them from spoiling Eva, who had an entire closet of stuffed elephants after she’d casually mentioned she liked them. Four of them from Stan and six from Ten, in varying sizes. Ten was certainly taking his godparent duties seriously. Of course, the six elephants he’d bought were matched by a collection of remote-controlled cars for Pavel and a mystery box of books and teddies for Noah.
Pavel’s cars were still in their boxes. He seemed happiest with his books and watching hockey games, but he had thanked Ten with some enthusiasm. His bedroom used a much more sedate palette of greens and blues, along with clouds, that Galina had painted, and we’d erected a bed in there with a huge tent over it, so it was like a den.
Eva and Pavel had been here four weeks now. We’d settled into a routine, and we couldn’t overwhelm the kids with too much of everything at the same time. Stan and I had actually covered this concept of not spoiling them last night. Again.
I handed the phone back to Stan. “One poster. One jersey.” I warned him.
“Cross hearts to die,” he promised and took the phone into the study. God knew what he and Ten were planning.
“Erik, can you help move this cabinet?” Galina called, and steeling myself, I went back into the flamingo palace and felt my eyes water. I lifted the cabinet they wanted moved, and then stood back, ready for my next order.
“Right there,” Eva said and pointed to the space. She held out a photo, and Galina studied it for a moment before rolling her shoulders and tacking the photo to the wall where she could see it.
“Okay then.”
In a few deft strokes of chalk, she’d drawn the outline of a house, sketched in some trees, and added windows, a door, and made the merest suggestion of a yard. I sat on the edge of Eva’s bed, always fascinated when Galina began to draw, and Eva sat next to me.
“What is she drawing?” I asked. Although I could see it was a house, it had to be more than just a house
“My home in Leskovo, where Pavel was born.”
Galina began to fill in details, building layers with the different paints she had on a glass sheet. The structure, the clouds, trees, and the garden took shape, greens with splashes of red. It shouldn’t have worked on the pink wall, but it did. Eva leaned against me, and I put my arm over her shoulder.
“Tell me all about your home,” I asked her as we watched.
“It was old and warm, and Mama was always cooking. I remember she always smelled so nice,” she began, “and that she was very ill when Pavel was only two. I miss her.”
I squeezed a little, just to let her know I was there. We’d seen a counselor the previous week after a recommendation from Miss Rose at family services. Just Stan and I. We’d listened as they’d spoken about the children and their grief, both of us choking back emotion at what we needed to do. Both Eva and Pavel would benefit from help, and we would get everything they needed. From mental health support all the way up to a pink bedroom and books.
“And then we had a new pappa… and we didn’t like him much. I don’t think he liked us either. But we were sad when he died.”
Galina turned to face us. “Okay then, which window, Eva?”
Eva shrunk into my hold and gripped my free hand, holding on tight. “The top one, the left there.”
“This one?” Galina checked and pointed at the window. When Eva nodded, Galina loaded her brush with a dark color, and in the top left window, she drew a shape. I couldn’t make out what it was until she added some white, and then it made sense. Two people in the window in a close embrace—a hug—a man and a woman.
“That’s Mama and Pappa, like a picture we have of them in our old home,” Eva murmured, and then she began to cry. I held her for a long time. Stan came in and sat on the bed as well. Eva sat on his lap, burying her face in his chest. I wondered if she remembered her parents at all, or was everything she had of them only in photos?
Pavel stood in the doorway, stricken, and asked something in Russian. Stan extended an arm, and he clambered up to sit on my knee.
“What did he ask?” I needed to know.
Stan’s eyes were so bright. “He wants know, is it Eva’s turn for leaving him,” Stan said after swallowing a couple of times. “I’m say no.”
Galina slipped out of the room, and the four of us left s
tared at the painting with its purples and blues, which blended amazingly well into the pink walls, and at the couple in the window. Noah joined us, wanting in on the hug, and I held my little boy close, desperately wanting to promise him that I could stop time and spare him any pain of losing parents. One day he would know this kind of pain, but I hoped he would be a very old man by then.
Then the five of us sat in a huddle, and we didn’t move until Ten and Jared appeared at the bedroom door. It was actually Eva, who moved first, untangling herself from Stan’s hug and helping Pavel down, smoothing her top and smiling shyly at Ten.
“Hello,” she said and looked at the floor.
“Hello gorgeous girl,” Ten said, always the smooth one. “Your dads said you wanted some stuff for your room.” He hefted a box, and I noticed Jared had one as well. I caught Jared’s eye and saw him shake his head in exasperation. I’d bet anything that the boxes were packed with more than just one jersey. I wasn’t wrong. Jerseys, plural, pucks signed by Ten, and a couple from Jared, bags, cups, signs, and poking out of the box, a huge rolled poster. The second box was for Pavel and contained more of the same. Then there was the bag in the hall that Noah had clearly rummaged through, which held smaller versions of the new mascot, with various team numbers on the back, along with a selection of bobbleheads. I caught Noah trying to bury Adler’s figure in a plant pot, and as much as all of the team wanted to do that to Adler at times, I didn’t want to encourage it.
“And now we go skating,” Stan announced.
“We are?” This was the first I’d heard. I thought today was decorating, family time, and chilling on our day off. Clearly not.
We had the Railers’ practice arena to ourselves, but I noticed that the locker room had been set up for us, along with Ten and Jared, so I assumed Stan or Ten had organized this during that phone call.
“I love you.” I kissed the tip of Stan’s nose.
“Love you,” Stan said and then scooped up a squealing Noah. Our son had on his tiny skates and a jersey with the word Daddy on the back. The space was way too small to fit Lyamin-Gunnarsson or Gunnarsson-Lyamin, and Daddy covered us both. Ten offered a hand to Eva, and they headed out. That left me with Pavel, who was visibly shaking with excitement, his mouth stretched in a big grin.
I held out a hand, and he took it, but as soon as his blades touched ice he was away, not exactly gliding smoothly at first, but our little man had some skills on ice. I kept my eye on him, on Eva, who was showing Ten how she could skate backward, and on Noah, who was being carted around the ice on a small sled by Jared. Stan skated slowly toward me. I loved him so much it hurt. Seeing him with Noah, and now Eva and Pavel, being with him, it was all I ever wanted for the rest of my life. For all of it, the messy, the sad, the happy, and the love. I wanted us to be together forever. I wanted to marry my man. Seeing Ten and Jared sporting their rings, engaged, planning a wedding, I wanted that. Maybe not all the planning, but to be tied to Stan in a way that was forever? Yes, that was what I wanted. Now.
“I’m love family skating,” Stan murmured, and I gripped his hands.
“We should get the kids new jerseys, with our names on,” I began, then stopped. That wasn’t what I meant to say, even though it had sounded clever in my head. “Gunnarsson-Lyamin, or Lyamin-Gunnarsson,” I added.
“Is big words for little jerseys,” Stan murmured and appeared thoughtful, as if he was considering how he could fit all of that in a small space. But that wasn’t what I was trying to say, and trying to be cute was failing me. “Teeny tiny letters—"
“Marry me, Stan.”
His mouth fell open, his grip on my hand tightened, and I could see that he was lost for words. Then he pulled me close, bent me backward, and kissed me like we hadn’t kissed for years.
“Yes, yes, much Elvis things, and red with ruffles or blue,” he said, a mix of Russian in there as well. “We do now.” He pulled back and checked our surroundings, as if he was searching for a priest right there.
“We have to plan—”
“Vegas baby.” He snapped his fingers. “For much sin and valentine kisses, when game in Vegas.”
We were playing Vegas on or around February 14, which was only a week away. A Vegas wedding. The Team. Family. Stan.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “perfect.”
Stan
“Did you see me make such big singing?” I asked breathlessly, dropping to the seat of the limo, the warm Las Vegas night air whipping through the open sunroof. Mama clapped, as did the children. Erik smiled at me as he does sometimes at Noah. “I did not miss one word of Viva Las Vegas, even when a bug flew into my mouth. Elvis is being most proud!”
“Pappa,” Pavel moaned, tugging at the red bow tie of his scarlet tuxedo. I reached around Galina to fix his tie. “What is Elvis?”
My mouth fell open. I glanced at Erik holding Noah on his lap, both in bright red tuxes with sequined lapels just like mine and Pavel’s. Elvis would be so proud.
“We have failed big for parenting. I will teach you much about Elvis Presley, the greatest rock and roll singer in all of American history. Is this not right, Mama?”
“Engelbert Humperdinck is greatest,” Mama replied flatly as she fussed with Eva’s bright red sequined dress. All the ladies had pretty red sequined dresses to match the lapels of our tuxedoes. Mama hated hers, saying it make her look like an old prostitutka. Galina and Eva liked the dresses I had bought. Erik and the other Railers in the wedding party loved the bright red suits we’d rented. Mama always had words to say about everything. I loved her. I would not buy a fallen angel dress for my Mama, sister, or my beautiful daughter.
“Mama, no, is not so. Why must you be so mule-faced?”
“You mean mulish,” Erik said, bouncing Noah, who also was not happy with his bow tie. He too kept pulling at it and frowning.
“Yes, mulish. We are making wedding vows in Las Vegas after winning big game yesterday!” I waved a hand at the open sunroof, the bright lights of the Las Vegas strip flashing brilliantly inside the limo as we drove to our chapel. “People here in America make fancy dressing for coming to Las Vegas. Elvis, who is god here in city of blackjack and Russian roulette wheels…” Erik made a sound that made me pause, but he just sighed and waved me on to continue teaching Mama and the children about proper ways to dress in the United States and Las Vegas. “He wears flashy pantsuits, so pretty! Some with colored birds on the back, glittering in sequins, with big diamond rings and shiny boots and belt buckles set with a million rubies.”
The children all stared at me wide-eyed, soaking up my American wisdom. I’d learned a lot studying for my citizenship test. I was going to be the best American ever.
“Saggy boobs in fancy dress like prostitutka,” Mama grumbled in broken English. Galina snorted while braiding Eva’s long, dark hair.
I rolled my eyes. “Mama, your boobs are not so much saggy. And the dress makes you look like Ann-Margaret, who makes shimmy dance with Elvis, also in Viva Las Vegas.”
“Pfft. My boobs no like Ann-Margaret boobs.” Mama chuckled and slapped my biceps.
“Is it okay to mention that I’m really uncomfortable talking about your mother’s boobs?” Arvy asked from the corner of the limo he’d been shoved into.
Galina laughed out loud at her husband, then patted his head as if he were no older than Pavel, who had again untied his bow tie. Arvy looked handsome in his red tux. I couldn’t wait to get to the King of the Strip Wedding Chapel that I’d booked and see the rest of wedding party. Erik had been so nice to let me plan the wedding, even when I had shown him the tuxedoes I’d rented for the wedding party, and he choked and spit coffee all over his lap. He never said a bad word.
“Saggy boobs.” Pavel snickered behind a dirty hand. How he had gotten dirty when he’d been clean when we’d gotten into the limo was a mystery. Boys did that. Mystery dirt just appeared on them.
“So, onto another subject,” Erik quickly said as the children tittered. “Are you two sure you�
��ll be able to handle all three of them overnight?”
“Sure, it’s good. We have a luxury suite,” Arvy replied, ruffling Pavel’s hair as he spoke. “We’ve got video games and treats all lined up. You two can go do newlywed stuff, wink nudge, and leave the babysitting to us, right, babe?”
“Right, we’ll keep them busy while you two smooch, and Mama loses all her quarters in the slot machines,” Galina teased, whirling Eva’s thin braids into a fancy knot atop her head.
“Big money and no whammies!” Mama shouted and pumped the air with her fist.
I grinned at my family as the limo pulled up in front of the King of the Strip Wedding Chapel. Our driver hurried around to open the door and help the ladies out before we men exited. The chapel was big and white and had a forty-foot statue of the King outside. The statue had a real cape that fluttered in the dry desert wind.
“Is most beautiful thing I ever see,” I murmured and walked over to put a stick of gum at the foot of the King, as Adler had told me to do with any Elvis sighting I might have. “The King loved gum!” my teammate had told me back at the hotel as he handed me ten packs of peppermint gum. I had not known of this custom, but I was thankful to Adler for filling me in.
Taking my groom by the hand, I then led the party inside. The chapel was small, but it was magnificent. Draped with red curtains of crushed velvet, the walls were covered with images of Elvis from his youthful days to his days here in the city of dreams. I left Erik to place a stick of gum under every portrait. At the last picture—one of the King in an army uniform—my best man called to me from behind the row of pews.
“Dude, what are you doing?” Ten shouted.
I placed my gum in homage and then stood, smiling at my best friend, who was dashing in his red tuxedo. As were Dieter, Adler, Max, and Bryan.
