by Alexa Davis
"Yeah, that's exactly how it worked! Man, you're really something, Lex!" He moved toward me to give me a hug, but I backed up and held out an arm.
"Do not come any closer or you will most likely lose a part of yourself that you will probably need in your new sitcom," I said through clenched teeth.
"What's wrong, Sugar? Found it!" he asked as he took another look through the junk drawer and turned triumphantly holding up the item he was looking for. It was a small troll doll with neon green hair wearing a rainbow tunic I'd made for it when Josh and I were undergrads at Northwestern.
"Do. Not. Ever. Call. Me. That. Again," I said in a staccato voice as I pushed my back against the wall and tried to remain standing. I would not lose my cool while he was standing in front of me.
"Jeez, Lex, lighten up a little," he said as he tucked the troll into the outer pocket of the larger suitcase and zipped it in. "Look, I didn't do this on purpose. It just happened. I have an opportunity to do what I've always wanted to do, and I'm taking it. Is that so wrong?"
"It is if you're leaving me behind to clean up your mess," I said.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
"What about the rent here? Have you thought about the fact that there is no way on earth I can afford to pay it on my own and that we have eight months left on our lease?" I said no longer containing my fury. "You're going to run out and follow your dream, but you're going to stick me with the bill?"
"Oh yeah, that," he said. "Well, I'll try to send some money to you as soon as I get paid for my first episode or something, but don't expect too much. LA is really expensive, and I've got a whole bunch of things I need to do out there."
"Josh, you are…you are…" I sputtered as I tried to come up with a word that would accurately describe him without relying on vulgarities. I couldn't come up with anything, so I yelled, "You're an asshole!"
"Yeah, well, I'm sorry you feel that way," he said and flashed me a sympathetic look that I recognized as one of the expressions I'd helped him perfect when he was auditioning for the role of a pediatric oncologist.
"How can you do this, Josh?" I shouted as I held back a sob. "How can you just pick up and leave me like this? Don't you love me?"
"Oh, baby, I love you," he said, reaching out to ran his fingers down my cheek. "I just feel like I need to explore the options being presented. It's only fair to take advantage of the opportunities after I've done so much work to get where I am."
"But what about me?" I said as the tears welled up. "Don't you want me to come with you? We've worked hard together to get this far."
"Sugar, look, it's been a fun ride and we've been good together," he said as I felt the anger boiling under the surface. "But we're just not meant to walk the next path together, you know. There are some walks you have to take alone."
"Are you fucking quoting Hunger Games while you break up with me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and shooting him a drop-dead look. "And, don't call me that. You know I hate it."
"Yeah, I guess I am," he grinned. "Well, it works for just about everything, now, doesn't it?"
"You're unbelievable." I shook my head as I stepped back and looked at him with fresh eyes. "I can't believe that I loved you enough to want to make a life with you."
"Oh c'mon, Lexi, we were never that serious," he said as he impatiently checked his luggage tags to make sure he had his LA address on them. "We were college lovers who knew that some day we'd go our separate ways."
"You're delusional," I said. "Don't you remember that night on the roof of the Carlton Hotel when we had drinks and watched a movie under the stars and you said you hoped our whole life together would be just like that?"
"Huh? What are you talking about?" he said as he pulled out his wallet and double-checked that he had enough cash for the curb check-in. "Oh, you mean that night when it was too hot to be inside and we decided that a free movie was better than being stuck in a sweltering apartment?"
"You're rewriting our entire relationship!" I cried. "It wasn't like that! We were in love!"
"You were in love, Lex, not me," he said as he looked up at me. "I love you, but not like that. And, I'm certainly not going to throw away a chance at a real acting career out of guilt or a few words I said after one too many martinis on the roof of the Carlton."
"You're heartless," I whispered. I wanted to scream at him, pound on his chest, and make him admit that he had felt something for me. That he had loved me and still did, but my pride won out and I kept silent as he slung his travel bag over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of his suitcase before heading for the door.
"I'm not heartless, Lex," he said as he turned the knob, opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "I'm pragmatic, and there's a huge difference between the two. Take care of yourself, Sugar." And with that, he pulled the door toward him until the latch clicked quietly.
"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!" I screamed at the door as I grabbed a sculpture from the hall table and threw it so hard that it shattered into a million pieces when it hit the wall. Then, I sank to the floor and sobbed as if my heart was breaking, which I was almost certain it was.
CHAPTER THREE
Max
I quickly cleared my head and got back to work unpacking the inventory I'd ordered. I had a lot to accomplish before the store was scheduled to open in two weeks and I didn't have the time to have a meltdown over my brother's threat. As I inspected each piece of jewelry and placed it back in its box, I thought about how to best handle this situation. Visiting my father was out of the question. He'd sent Kristov to bring me back, so confronting him wasn't going to be a viable option. I knew I needed someone to help me plead my case, though, so I made a quick decision to head up to see my grandmother. If anyone could help me, it would be her.
"Hello, Babi!" I called as I knocked on her screen door and pulled it open. Babi had lived on the bottom floor of a two-flat walk up on Newgard for as long as I could remember. She'd come over from Moscow when I was small, but she hadn't wanted to live with us like most grandmothers. She was a stubborn woman, which explained a lot about my father, but she lavished love in the form of traditional Russian food on all of her children and grandchildren. I couldn't remember a time when Babi wasn't cooking and today was no exception.
"Maksimka!" she called from the kitchen. "Come in here and give your Babi a kiss!"
I laughed as I crossed the front room and headed for the kitchen. Babi's house looked like it had been picked up and transported directly from her apartment in Moscow. The room was wallpapered in blue and gold foil that ran from the ceiling to the floor and made me feel like I was on the inside of a fancy box of chocolates. Her furniture was heavy oak that was intricately carved and faithfully polished by the housekeeping crew my father had hired to make sure she wouldn't have to do anything but cook and visit friends and family. Babi rolled her eyes at this luxury, but she allowed it because she knew it made my father feel good about providing for her.
"Babi!" I said as I pushed open the door to the kitchen and found my grandmother taking a piping hot loaf of bread from the oven. I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek as she set it on the cooling rack and closed the oven door.
"Maksimka, give me a hug!" she demanded as she grabbed my arm and pulled me to her. I was more than foot taller than her, but she had strong arms and if she wanted a hug, she got a hug. When she was satisfied, she looked up at me and said, "I've got a pot of ukha on the stove, sit down and let me give you a bowl!"
"Babi, I'm not hungry," I protested, knowing that it would be futile.
"Nonsense," she dismissed me as she pulled out a bowl and began ladling out the rich fish soup that reminded me of holidays and happy times with my family. "You are always hungry, and I always feed you."
I threw my hands in the air, but sat down at the kitchen table to watch her bustle around ladling soup, cutting a thick slice of hot, dark bread for me, and putting it on the table with butter. She was right, of cours
e, I was always hungry, but I'd come to discuss a serious matter with her and I didn't want food to interfere with the talk I was about to initiate. I had no idea how my grandmother would respond, but I was desperate for a solution that wouldn't tear the family apart.
"Babi, this is delicious," I said as I dipped the thick bread into the broth and tucked it in my mouth.
"Of course, it is," she smiled. "Your Babi only makes delicious food! Now, why are you here, Maksimka?"
"You know me too well," I laughed as I continued dipping bread and putting it into my mouth. "I have a problem, Babi, and I need advice. Only, I'm not sure if there is a solution that will make anyone happy."
"Stop beating around the bush, tell me what you need," she said as she worked the dough for another loaf of bread.
"Papa wants me to join the family business, and he sent Kristov to make me do it," I began. I felt stupid once it came out of my mouth, but Babi had never been one to judge before she heard the whole story.
"And, what's the problem with you saying no?" she asked as she flipped the ball of dough and began pounding it on the counter.
"Kristov said that I am not going to be allowed to say no," I said. "He told me that Papa wants me to get my stars and become vore y zakone, but I don't want to. I don’t want to be part of the brotherhood of the Russian Mafia. I just want to run my jewelry business and stay out of the way."
"I understand, but why don't you want to be with family, Maksimka?" she asked. "It's an honor to be vore y zakone. Your Dadushka ran a very efficient organization in Moscow. He was a good man, Maksimka. Your papa is a very good man, too."
"I know, Babi," I said quietly as I finished my soup and watched her move across the kitchen and cut into the cooling loaf. She sliced a big piece and set it in front of me.
"Eat. The coulibiac is best hot," she ordered.
"Babi, I'm full!" I protested as I lifted my fork and cut into the delicious mix of fish, rice, hardboiled eggs, mushrooms, and dill. It had always been my favorite dish and no matter how full I was, I always had room for coulibiac.
"Maksimka, your father has built a loyal following here in Chicago, and it has taken him many years to do it. He wants to leave his business to his sons, the same way his father left the business to him many years ago,” she said as she turned back to her dough and began shaping it so she could stuff it with sweet goat cheese. “You need to understand that the family business is not just money or paper. It's blood. It's honor. It's tradition."
"I know, Babi, I know," I said nodding my head as I chewed. "I'm not trying to deny the tradition or the importance of it, I just don't want to be a part of it! I wasn't made the same way Kristov was, I don't have that ability to be cold and calculating the way he and Papa can be. I don't want to do what they do."
Babi nodded as she worked the dough and then added the cheese before folding over the edges to form a rounded crust that would puff up and brown around the cheese. As she worked, I could see that she was thinking, so I didn't interrupt her. When she was ready, she turned and spoke.
"Maksimka, I know you want to go your own way, but I'm not sure you can," she said. My eyes widened as I listened to her explain my options. "I think you're always going to have to have one foot in the family business, even if you don't want to. Otherwise, you are going to find that it is a very lonely world out there and that it's not very safe when you don't have family backing you up. Do you understand what I am saying?"
"I think so," I nodded as I swallowed hard. "But, Babi, I can't do what they do. I don't want to do it."
"Sometimes, you have to do things you don't want to do, Maksimka," she said giving me a knowing look. "Sometimes, you have to put family first and swallow the idea that you can step out on your own and do anything differently."
As she spoke, I began to feel hopeless. I didn't want to be a thug or a mafia boss, but it didn't look like I was going to have much choice in the matter. What Babi was telling me was that family always came first and what I wanted would be shoved aside to make room for the needs of my family. I felt the anger rising from the pit of my stomach, so I swallowed hard and waited for it to pass.
"Maksimka," Babi said as she crossed the room and took my face in her weathered hands. "It's not fair, I know. Believe me, I know. But in the end, all we have is family and what the family needs, we have to give. In the end, the sacrifice is worth it. And no matter what you think, you have to know that your Papa loves you and Kristov more than anything on earth. He will do everything in his power to protect you and make sure you live well."
"So, I owe him my loyalty," I muttered as I looked away. Seconds later, I felt the sting of Babi's hand as she pulled back and slapped me hard across the face.
"Don't you ever mock your father's loyalty," she warned in a stern voice. "This is not a game, Maksim, this is our life. You are part of the vore y zakone whether you like it or not, and I will not have you disrespecting it."
"I'm sorry, Babi," I said as I suppressed the urge to bring my hand to my face and feel the cheek where she'd delivered the blow. I knew then that my only way was to get onboard as best I could and then look for an out when the time came. Babi might love me, but she wasn't going to be my advocate in my attempt to free myself from my father.
"Just do what is best for the family, Maksimka," she said as she leaned down and kissed my still stinging cheek. "Always the family."
I nodded as I began to plot my way out.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lexi
I sat on the floor in front of the door sobbing until I was exhausted, then I pulled my phone off of the table and called my best friend, Viv. She assured me that she would be there within the hour and that she'd bring the necessary supplies. I hung up, staring at the picture of Josh and me in Jamaica that had been my screen saver since we'd taken the photo six months ago. We'd scraped together our meager earnings and bought a cheap weekend package to celebrate graduation and our relationship surviving our undergrad years. It had been a magical weekend, and I'd wondered if Josh was going to propose. He hadn't, of course, but it felt like we'd solidified our partnership and were walking in the same direction on the same path.
Viv showed up with her arms full of bags of food and various little distractions she'd picked up along the way. Once through the door, she dropped the bags and pulled me into a tight hug, which immediately made me start crying.
"There, there," she said as she patted my head and rubbed my back. I clung to her as my tears fell fast and furious on her shoulder. She smelled like clean linen and sunshine, and the scent catapulted me back to the warmth of the sandy beach where Josh and I had spent hours talking about the future.
"I…I…I…" I stammered through sobs. I wanted to tell her what I was thinking. I wanted to spill out all of the horrible, awful thoughts that were racing through my brain so I could let them go and forget that Josh had simply abandoned me. I felt sorry for myself. I wanted to curl up in a ball and hide in bed for the rest of eternity, but Viv would have none of it.
"I know, Wally," she reassured me. She had nicknamed me Wally during our first year in high school and contrary to popular belief, it wasn't a shortened version of Wallace, which happened to be my last name.
It was because of the time I'd been talking nonstop about some boy I had a crush on, had failed to look where I was going and had walked face first into a brick wall. It took me a long time to accept the nickname, but she finally sold me on it when she told me that my ability to focus on one thing and tune out everything else around me was one of the things she admired most about me – even when it resulted in embarrassing situations. "I know it hurts. I know he's an ass. I know. I know. Just let it all go."
As I cried, I noticed that one of Viv's bags was making a quiet rustling noise, and I picked my head up off of her shoulder to look at it more closely. She let go and stepped back to examine the bag. It looked like something was trying to escape. I turned and gave Viv a quizzical look.
"Open it up, Wal
ly!" she urged. So, I reached out and pulled the edges of the bag apart and found myself face to face with a tiny gray kitten who stared at me with it's big blue eyes before reaching out and softly patting my nose.
"What is this?" I asked as I looked back and forth between Viv and the tiny cat.
"I believe it's what most people call a kitten," she grinned.
"Is it yours?"
"Nope, it's yours!" she declared as she clapped and bounced up and down.
"I can't have a kitten!" I protested. "How in the world can you bring me a kitten and think that it makes up for Josh walking out?"
"I didn't bring her to replace Josh," she said in an indignant tone, and then backed up a bit. "Well, maybe she's a little bit of a replacement for that lousy excuse for a human being, but I brought her mostly because she needs a home and I'd already adopted two of her littermates. I can't have three cats in my apartment."
"So, you just brought her here and thought I'd take her no questions asked?" I said as I stared down into the bag at the tiny little kitten who sat quietly looking up at me.
"Pretty much."
"Vivian Lasky, you are beyond the pale!" I yelled and then felt bad as the kitten ducked her head and hid in the corner of the bag.
"You're scaring the baby!" she shot back as she reached into the bag and pulled out the little gray fuzz ball and cooed, "Are you okay, baby? Are you scared of the big, bad lady? Don't be scared, little one."
"Great, this is just great, Viv," I said as I watched her snuggle the kitten. "I don't even know if I'm allowed to have pets or if I'm even going to have a place to live!"
"Don't be dramatic," she said. "Of course, you're going to have a place to live."
"Josh isn't going to pay his portion of the rent, Viv!" I cried. "He said he has a lot of expenses to take care of in LA and that he'd send me money if he could, but that I really shouldn't expect anything. He stuck me with this place and now I've got a $1,600 a month rent payment for the next eight months and no job!"
