GABBY
Three months later…
The car glides through the cemetery gates just as the sun starts slipping under into a late-summer afternoon glow of gold and violet. I’m tucked into the back seat beside Sasha, while Bogdan is at the wheel with hands steady and eyes forward.
Sasha’s thumb strokes my knuckles slowly, protectively, like I secretly love.
“I’ll give you both ten minutes, or so. Then I’ll come join you.”
I nod. I may put up the occasional stink about him shadowing me, as if Ruth O’Donnell might emerge from the gates of hell at any moment. But I love the way he’s always looking after us.
“Thank you.”
He pulls back, studying me like he wants to kiss me and shield me from the world at the same time. After all these years, it still amazes me how someone so terrifying can look at me like that.
Bogdan pulls to a smooth stop at the path entrance. He twists around, nodding, his eyes hidden beneath his large mirrored aviator sunglasses.
“Take your time. I’ll keep the engine warm. And if he tries anything…”
“He won’t,” I say. “At least, I hope not.
I squeeze Sasha’s hand one more time, then step out into the balmy warmth of the early evening. The car idles behind me as I make my way up the small hill toward her.
Toward Mom.
Halfway up, my phone buzzes. I slip it out and see that it’s Angie, of course. I swipe it open, a smile on my face before I even see what she’s sent. It’s a photo. Her on the couch, hair in a messy bun, Lena dangling upside down from her arm like a little gremlin. Nikolai’s off to the side in the middle of a wild laugh, marker colors up and down his arms. The baby bump on Angie’s belly is obvious.
The caption:The kids are staging a coup. It’s getting dangerous. Send snacks.
I chuckle, typing a text back:Gummy bear peace bribes are in the pantry. Use wisely.
I tuck my phone away, the smile still lingering on my lips as I approach the headstone.
Louisa Kelly. My mother.
I approach the stone with soft, reverent steps. When I’m in front of it, I kneel, gently brushing away the leaves from the base.
“Hi, Mom.”
I sit there like that, staring at her name, her dates. It’s not long before a presence appears next to me. I don’t have to look to know who it is.
“I never know what to say to her.”
Peter sighs. “I was the same way. My first few times, I simply came here and sat, thinking of her. After a few more visits, words came to mind. I tell her about you. About the twins. I like to imagine that those are her favorite subjects. They’re certainly mine.”
I keep my eyes on the stone. A tear forms, but I quickly wipe it away.
“She would be happy to see you today,” he says. He kneels next to me, giving me space. Then he places a gorgeous bouquet of roses on the stone.
“Would she?” I ask. “Or would she wonder why the hell I haven’t run like she did?”
He exhales, the sound old, weary. “She ran because of me. Because of the man I was, maybe the man I still am. I don’t blame her.” Peter turns, spots Sasha’s car. “But you don’t have a man like me. You have a man likehim.” His words drop like a pebble into still water. I don’t know what to say. “I looked into your mother’s life. Hired some men to follow the trail she’d left.”
I cock my head toward him. “You did?”
He nods. “A few months ago. Wasn’t sure when to tell you. It’s a long story. But it was clear she cared for you deeply until the day she died. She lived for you, breathed for you. You were her everything.”
My heart feels like it’s in a vise grip. Tears form in my eyes. I stand slowly, placing my hand on my belly. “She might be furious to know that I ran right back to the life she tried to save me from.”
