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Authors: Kristina Riggle
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“I love you” so quickly.
CHAPTER 13
Irina
“ THAT WENT ALL RIGHT, I THINK.” IRINA PEELS OFF HER DRESS AND slips a cotton nightgown over her head, sneaking a peek at her belly. Her waist might be a little thicker. Maybe.
“Sure, I guess so.” Darius hangs his clothes up in the standing wardrobe.
“Don’t worry about Mom. She’s just emotional today.”
Darius turns to her, his brow puckered and his mouth hard. “Why didn’t you tell them about the baby?”
Irina shushes him reflexively, remembering all too well from their youth how well sound carries in the old house. Darius turns away, throwing his shaving kit hard into the suitcase. “You’re ashamed of me.”
“I am not!” Tears spring into Irina’s eyes, surprising her. “I swear I’m not, I’m sorry, I just got scared.”
“Scared of what? You said they’re hippies, and they won’t care the child is biracial, so what’s the problem? They were perfectlypleasant to me when they came back to the room and talked to us. I kept waiting for you to tell them about their grandbaby.”
Darius has finished hanging his clothes, and he stands still in front of her. Irina sinks down to the edge of the bed, unable to coalesce her emotion into words.
“You’re thinking of an abortion.”
“No!” she stage-whispers. “Of course not, I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Darius drops his head and walks with a heavy step to the bed. He sits down, elbows on knees, and puts his head in his hands. “You don’t want the baby anymore. You’re going to have it, but you don’t want to.”
“That’s not it, I’m just nervous is all. Don’t forget I’m only twenty-one. You’ve wanted this your whole adult life, and I’ve just started my adult life. I guess I want to get used to being a…mom, before I let my whole family in on this. I have to sort this out in my own head without hearing Katya lecturing me about pacifiers or something.”
Darius sits back up, but Irina can see in the furrows of his brow that he’s unconvinced. “Yeah, she is a piece of work.”
“Sorry she grilled you.”
“I’m just glad I had the right answers. Though I thought about telling her I worked in ‘pharmaceutical sales’ just to get a rise out of her.”
In spite of herself, Irina laughs. “Oh God, don’t do that. Katya gets enough rises on her own without any help, really.”
“Your dad seems nice.”
“Sure, he is. He’s just always distracted when writing a new book.”
“What does he write again? Really, tell me.”
Irina sighs. She can’t remember ever running into a reader of her dad’s work, though supposedly they sell very well. Or used to. “He writes thrillers, you know, spies and international intrigueand stuff. His hero is”—she swallows a giggle—“this is so corny, his hero is Dash Hammond. He’s got a villainess named Savoir Faire.”
“Oh, like Dashiell Hammett. A tribute, maybe.”
“Who?”
Darius brightens. “You know, I think I’ve seen his stuff. I remember picking up a book at an airport once about a Savoir Faire.”
“Yep, he’s big in airports.”
“But I don’t think the name was Zielinski.”
“It’s not. They always thought Max Zielinski sounded too ethnic. His pseudonym is Maxwell Playfair.”
Darius laughs. “Of course! Now I remember. Huh. Your dad, the famous writer.”
Irina shakes her head, looking at the floor. “Oh, I don’t know. Not hardly famous. But he does seem to be good at it.” Irina flops back onto the bed. “I wonder if I’ll ever find something I’m good at, like Dad. Something I enjoy so much I can’t stop doing it.”
Irina feels the bedsprings compress as Darius stretches out next to her. His low voice rumbles in her ear. “I can think of one thing that qualifies.”
In spite of herself and her faked morning sickness, Irina feels a delicious chill race over her skin, and she turns to him with a smile, eyes closed.
CHAPTER 14
Katya
KATYA TOSSES HERSELF AROUND ON THE
CHAPTER 13
Irina
“ THAT WENT ALL RIGHT, I THINK.” IRINA PEELS OFF HER DRESS AND slips a cotton nightgown over her head, sneaking a peek at her belly. Her waist might be a little thicker. Maybe.
“Sure, I guess so.” Darius hangs his clothes up in the standing wardrobe.
“Don’t worry about Mom. She’s just emotional today.”
Darius turns to her, his brow puckered and his mouth hard. “Why didn’t you tell them about the baby?”
Irina shushes him reflexively, remembering all too well from their youth how well sound carries in the old house. Darius turns away, throwing his shaving kit hard into the suitcase. “You’re ashamed of me.”
“I am not!” Tears spring into Irina’s eyes, surprising her. “I swear I’m not, I’m sorry, I just got scared.”
“Scared of what? You said they’re hippies, and they won’t care the child is biracial, so what’s the problem? They were perfectlypleasant to me when they came back to the room and talked to us. I kept waiting for you to tell them about their grandbaby.”
Darius has finished hanging his clothes, and he stands still in front of her. Irina sinks down to the edge of the bed, unable to coalesce her emotion into words.
“You’re thinking of an abortion.”
“No!” she stage-whispers. “Of course not, I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Darius drops his head and walks with a heavy step to the bed. He sits down, elbows on knees, and puts his head in his hands. “You don’t want the baby anymore. You’re going to have it, but you don’t want to.”
“That’s not it, I’m just nervous is all. Don’t forget I’m only twenty-one. You’ve wanted this your whole adult life, and I’ve just started my adult life. I guess I want to get used to being a…mom, before I let my whole family in on this. I have to sort this out in my own head without hearing Katya lecturing me about pacifiers or something.”
Darius sits back up, but Irina can see in the furrows of his brow that he’s unconvinced. “Yeah, she is a piece of work.”
“Sorry she grilled you.”
“I’m just glad I had the right answers. Though I thought about telling her I worked in ‘pharmaceutical sales’ just to get a rise out of her.”
In spite of herself, Irina laughs. “Oh God, don’t do that. Katya gets enough rises on her own without any help, really.”
“Your dad seems nice.”
“Sure, he is. He’s just always distracted when writing a new book.”
“What does he write again? Really, tell me.”
Irina sighs. She can’t remember ever running into a reader of her dad’s work, though supposedly they sell very well. Or used to. “He writes thrillers, you know, spies and international intrigueand stuff. His hero is”—she swallows a giggle—“this is so corny, his hero is Dash Hammond. He’s got a villainess named Savoir Faire.”
“Oh, like Dashiell Hammett. A tribute, maybe.”
“Who?”
Darius brightens. “You know, I think I’ve seen his stuff. I remember picking up a book at an airport once about a Savoir Faire.”
“Yep, he’s big in airports.”
“But I don’t think the name was Zielinski.”
“It’s not. They always thought Max Zielinski sounded too ethnic. His pseudonym is Maxwell Playfair.”
Darius laughs. “Of course! Now I remember. Huh. Your dad, the famous writer.”
Irina shakes her head, looking at the floor. “Oh, I don’t know. Not hardly famous. But he does seem to be good at it.” Irina flops back onto the bed. “I wonder if I’ll ever find something I’m good at, like Dad. Something I enjoy so much I can’t stop doing it.”
Irina feels the bedsprings compress as Darius stretches out next to her. His low voice rumbles in her ear. “I can think of one thing that qualifies.”
In spite of herself and her faked morning sickness, Irina feels a delicious chill race over her skin, and she turns to him with a smile, eyes closed.
CHAPTER 14
Katya
KATYA TOSSES HERSELF AROUND ON THE
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