“Bank business. Of course.” Andrei ignores my remark.
We enter the vast lobby, a surprisingly large crowd there for a weekday.
Sasha tugs my hand. “Can we see that whale statue?”
“The whale statue?” I lean down. “What whale statue?”
He points at a nearby brochure for an exhibit on display, interesting sculptures of whales fused with mechanical gears.
“This is so cool,” he says, holding the brochure with two hands close to his face as if he doesn’t want to miss a detail. “It’s like a robot whale.”
“It is,” I reply. “And you bet we can see it, bud. But there are so many other cool things here. The trick is to not try to see it all at once. Come on, I’ll show you.”
We move deeper into the gallery, and I fall into teacher mode without even trying. I don’t lecture, I just guide. Sasha’s curious about nearly everything, flitting from one piece to the next. It’s cute to watch, like I’m witnessing his little budding artist’s mind get blown in real time.
He stops in front of a big abstract sculpture made of blue and white glass, sheets layered like ice.
“What do you notice first?” I ask, stepping to his side.
“The white looks cold.”
“Right. But there’s no picture of snow or anything, see? No trees with snowy branches like what we’ve been drawing. But it still looks cold, right?”
Sasha doesn’t say anything at first, his eyes locked onto the sculpture. He’s processing it, taking it in. Finally, he speaks. “So you can make people think about things without actually drawing it exact.”
“Right!” He’s getting it. “That’s what abstract art is all about. Invoking a mood or idea or whatever without actually showing that particular thing. Cool, right?”
“Yeah!” A small smile forms on his lips as the idea starts to click for him. Then he raises his finger toward another nearby sculpture, his eyes lighting up. “Can we look at that one now?”
“Sure, buddy.”
He hurries over to a similar glass piece, though it’s more evocative, of a mountain. It’s like the idea of abstract art is a new toy he can’t wait to play with.
I start to step in his direction, but before I can, a hand falls on my shoulder. Startled, I stop and turn.
“Hey.” Andrei has a strange look on his face, like he needs to say something but isn’t quite sure how to say it. “I just… thanks.”
I cock my head to the side, a little confused. “Thanks? For what?”
“For him.” He nods toward Sasha, who’s in the process of making a slow circle around the piece that currently has his attention. “He’s had problems since Elena passed. Became very solitary. Never wanted to open up to anyone. A trip like this would’ve been too much for him a year ago. But you’ve helped him change for the better.”
My chest tightens. “It’s nothing. He’s an easy kid to love.”
He shakes his head. “Not nothing. It’s very important. But you know that. Anyway, thank you.”
A beat passes. “Of course.”
I turn my head away as quickly as possible to blink away the tears.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping me out of the moment. I glance over my shoulder to see Andrei watching Sasha. I slip my phone out of my pocket and check the screen, hoping it’s Roman.
It isn’t. It’s Max. I ignore it. But just as I’m about to put my phone back into my pocket, a text arrives.
Answer. It’s important.
My gut tenses. If Max were any other ex, I’d ignore it without a second thought. But Maxisn’tany other ex. He’s a cop who works with my brother. What if something happened to Kyle? I have to answer it. Max is the last person I want to talk to, see, or think about, but I have to do it anyway.
I turn to Andrei. “Hey, I need to hit the girl’s room. You cool watching him for a minute?”
