Elena stroked his hair. “Yes, we are. I promise if you behave, we can go outside later and find something to climb. Does that sound good?”
He nodded his head and almost jumped in joy but remembered the warning first.
“Good boy.” Elena looked at me over his head, eyebrows raised. “Are the mixing bowls in the same place?”
I inclined my head.
For a moment, I saw them both living by themselves. I hadn’t contemplated it in great depth before seeing them work so well together but now it was all my mind could focus on. Yes, Elena and Nikolai were joining our family, but in some ways, we were also joining theirs. They had their own dynamics, rules and jokes.
It was agony to know I had missed out on so much. But I also felt relief. I had lost that time with my son, but he hadn’t gone without love. Nikolai had Elena, and Elena had Nikolai. The pair of them had cared for each other, loved one another and made each other happy.
How many dawns had they woken up at and made pancakes together as the sun had risen? How many trees had they climbed together while the rest of the world had been asleep? How many jokes had been made; how many compromises had been shared?
I found my rage dimming ever so slightly in the midst of my curiosity...and relief.
Pure and utter relief that while Elena had been without her family, she hadn’t been alone. She hadn’t been without love. Not like all those years she had been at her family’s mercy and then her husband’s.
Nikolai derailed up my train of thought by leaning over me to fill up the jug. Elena went to do it, but I stepped in.
“Have you got it?” I asked him. I felt Elena’s watchful stare on me but ignored it. I didn’t appreciate her treating me like a threat around my own flesh and blood.
His wrists wavered as he tried to hold it up. “Little help,” he mumbled.
I held the jug as it filled with water but didn’t release my grip when Nikolai went for it.
“I can do it,” he moaned.
“Okay, but it’s heavy so you need to hang onto it.”
Nikolai nodded and grabbed it. Instantly, his arms began to bend but I caught the bottom of the jug quickly. The weight lessened and he dragged it over to the bowl.
“Gentle,” I coaxed before he could pour it in and make a mess.
“Mmm.” Nikolai tried to pour it faster, but I held tight. “Let me do it.”
“Where are your manners?” Elena asked, voice strange.
He quickly corrected himself. “Pleease. Let me do it pleeease.”
I laughed to myself. Children and their exaggerated pleases.
Elena added a few more things to the batter before passing Nikolai the spoon. She held it out to him but didn’t relent her grip. “Remember to stir, not smack the batter. Or else the pancakes will be gross.”
Nikolai stirred for about 10 seconds until he began using the spoon as a makeshift drumstick. Bits of batter flew everywhere, making him laugh. “Oopsy!”
“I don’t think that was an accident,” Elena muttered.
I laughed softly. “I think it was premeditated.”
We shared a look of amusement over the top of his head. Elena realized in an instant that she was pissed with me and I remembered at the exact same time I wasn’t too happy with her either. We broke up the soft moment by turning away from each other and back to the toddler.
“Let Mama do it,” Elena said eventually.
Nikolai didn’t mind handing it over. He went for a spot of batter on the counter, dunking his finger into it and plopping it into his mouth.
“Don’t eat that,” I told him. “That has raw egg in it. You will get sick.”
He smiled around his finger. “Nope!”
“Denying something doesn’t make it any less true.” I leaned over and grabbed some of the blueberries. “Here if you want something to eat, have some of these.”
After Elena had just left, we came to the conclusion we had too many blueberries. We had lost two family members, which was two mouths and stomachs. It was such a strange, odd problem to have during a time of such agonizing turmoil, but it had ended with Roksana burying all the rotten blueberries in the garden.
Three years later, and we now had an impressive collection of blueberry bushes. Fruit was something we never seemed to run out of.
That and bullets.
Nikolai was delighted I had offered him some blueberries and immediately plopped a handful into his mouth. Purple juice spilled over his lips and stained his pajamas.
“How are you already making a mess?” I grabbed the cloth and wiped his chin. When he tried to dodge, I called him back. “You’re going to turn purple.”
His green eyes widened, and he looked back to his mother for confirmation. Elena had stopped stirring and was standing completely still, eyes stuck to us like she was glued to the spot. She had a peculiar look on her face, seeing something that I couldn’t.
“Elena?” I prompted.
“Huh?” Elena swallowed, coming back down to planet Earth. “I’m sorry. What were you talking about?”
“If Nikolai is going to turn purple,” I tapped my own chin to slyly tell her the issue.
Her eyes dropped to Nikolai and she sighed. “How did I birth the messiest eater on the planet? Who can I talk to about that?” She seemed to animate back to life, resuming her stirring. “It’s true, my wild boy. Wipe your face or you’ll turn purple.”
Nikolai let me clean his chin but drew the line when I went to wipe his shirt. To punish me, he shoved more blueberries into his mouth, making sure to get his fingers in there too and stain them just as much.
“You’re going to be a nightmare to bath,” I mused.
He grinned and nodded. “Yep!”
When it was time to cook the pancakes, Elena put her foot down. “The stove is a big person job,” she told a whining Nikolai. He was by her feet, begging to cook them.
“I am a big boy,” he told her.
“No, you’re not,” she replied, not unkindly. “You’re a little boy. But one day you’ll be big and then you can use the stove.”
Nikolai tipped his head back like this was the worst news he had ever heard in his life. He let out a bellowing whine. “I am a big boy!”
“A few more birthdays,” I told him.
He cut his eyes to me like he couldn’t believe I was interfering in his tantrum. Elena was the only disciplining force he had ever experienced.
“When you’re as tall as me, you can use the stove.”
Nikolai glanced down at my feet and then slowly tipped his head back until his eyes reached my face. He scowled. “When I’m one-hundred?”
Elena made a coughing sound that sounding a lot like a choked back laugh.
I hid my smile. “Is that how old you think I am? How old is your mother, then?”
“Careful,” Elena warned, holding up the spatula.
Nikolai looked like he was thinking about it. “Four.”
She laughed. “Oh, thank you, baby. I will give you the biggest pancake.” She cut her eyes to me. “You can get the burnt one.”
“Respect your elders,” I warned her.
Elena turned away but I could see her cheeks curving inwards as she grinned. The grin disappeared as soon as she remembered who I was and what we had done to each other–or rather, what she had done to me and her family.