“Uh uh uh,” she chastised. “Watch your language in front of the children. How many are there now? You must be overrun. I do believe congratulations are in order, Roksana...and Elena.”
Elena’s fingers twitched, scraping over her arm. It was like she was writing a word but didn’t have a pen on hand.
Roksana had gone very pale.
Nikolai reached toward Elena. “Mama?”
“Shh, baby.” She stroked his hair, pulling him into her arms alongside Danika.
“I was surprised to hear Elena had returned. I thought you were after your freedom, Elena. That is why you pretended to know the cure for my sickness?”
“The cure to your sickness is a bullet to your head,” Roman snapped.
Tatiana clicked her tongue. “The adults are speaking, Roman. Hush.” She continued. “Was the outside world not all you had hoped, Elena? No scholars waiting for you, ready to pass you a doctorate and Noble Piece Prize?”
“I must’ve taken a wrong turn,” Elena said.
My grip on the phone tightened. I wasn’t overly fond of Elena interacting with Tatiana, even if there was no real physical threat.
“You must’ve.” There was another meaning to Tatiana’s words. Why else did Elena suddenly become so pale? “Ah, well, reunions are always cause to celebrate. I was hoping to have one of my own soon, actually.”
“With Satan?”
“Roman, what did I just say?” she scolded. “These few years have been prosperous for my organization. I look forward to sharing that prosperity with the kings of North America. Especially with you, Kostya, my first friend.”
“Keep them,” I said. “We have no use for you anymore or your dramatic tricks. The world has kept moving without you in it, Tati, and it will continue to do so long after you’re gone.”
“To be called dramatic by Konstantin Tarkhanov...quite the compliment indeed.” Tatiana laughed. “Ah, well, I find myself growing bored of this. I rang to warn you.”
“Warn us of what?”
Tatiana didn’t address me. Instead, her voice rose out of the phone, aimed at one person. “O loro o tu, Elena?” She hung up, the tone beating on repeat in the silence she left.
Elena didn’t look at anyone besides her son. I could see her mind running circles around itself, stumbling to reach a conclusion I couldn’t understand.
Before anyone could say anything, Dmitri leaped to his feet, shoved his chair against the table and stormed out of the room. The sound cracked through the room, sending Evva falling into tears.
“Did the noise scare you, darling?” Roksana fussed but Artyom was already out of his seat and scooping her up into his arms.
Nikolai looked highly alarmed and glanced to Elena for an explanation. She offered him a small smile, but her mind was far away.
Then he looked to me.
I was used to people looking to me in a crisis, used to people expecting me to have the solution or answer. It was my job, after all, to know the ending before the beginning started. That was why human beings entertained the idea of kings and leaders, so for a moment, even a second, they could have someone else figure out their issues and make decisions for them.
But when Nikolai turned to me expectantly, it wasn’t for an answer but rather for comfort.
“It’s okay,” I told him, words strange in my mouth. What did one say to a toddler who needed comfort? One who needed comfort from his…from his father? “Uncle Dmitri just needed some alone time.”
Nikolai looked to Evva then back to me.
“Evva doesn’t like loud noises.”
He nodded, then stood up on the chair, stretching out to reach Evva. He gave her an awkward pat on the back, trying to replicate comfort his mother had most likely shown him. “’s okay, Evva.” His words toppled over each other in childlike speak.
“Bums go to the chair,” Elena said suddenly. She rose to her feet. “It’s not safe to stand on chairs. You know this.”
Nikolai bent into a crouch but didn’t put his bum back on the seat. “Mmm.”
“Bum. Seat. Now.”
He relented at her tone, falling back into the proper sitting position with as much enthusiasm as a soaking wet cat.
“Chin up, Niko.” Roman reached over and patted his head. “Your mother scolds everyone. Not just you.”
Nikolai shot him an interested look. He might’ve been a son or nephew to us, but to him, we were all still just strangers. It would take him a bit longer to get used to everybody.
“Only those who need scolding,” Elena warned.
He grinned toothily at his mother.
Evva’s crying quietened, and she rested her head on Artyom’s chest. He rubbed her back and whispered sweet nothings while swaying her gently in his arms.
Nobody really knew how to act. Everyone was itching to discuss the phone call, to theorize and try to trace the number, but no one would dare speak business in front of the kids.
Elena glanced at me, meeting my eyes.
My Italian had improved dramatically over the past three years.
O loro o tu, Elena? Tatiana had said to her. Clearly it was a message just for Elena, something that had freaked her out enough to cause her to go silent.
Them or you, Elena?
I raised my eyebrows at her, indicating I had heard the little message and I intended to find out the meaning behind it.
Elena scowled and looked back to Nikolai. “Help me clear the table, baby. Then we can go and climb some trees.”
Nikolai brightened and immediately began grabbing random knives and forks. He even took the spoon out of the syrup, causing the sticky substance to fall to the table.
Domesticity returned quickly, all of us desperate to gain back some mundaneness to our day. Danika and Roman joined in cleaning up, while Roksana went to fill a bowl for Babushka. Evva had calmed down enough to help but stuck close to her dad, who carried the heavy plates for her.
I wanted to check on Dmitri, but he needed his space. It wasn’t every day you got a phone call from your criminal mastermind wife before your morning coffee.
When Elena was stacking dishes, I slid up behind her, murmuring, “What does she mean? Them or you?”
Her entire frame stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie.” I caught a fresh new word just below her elbow. Priorities. “She called you by name. She knew you were with us. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Elena hissed. She twisted around, pressing herself up against the counter. She was caged in my arms, mere inches away from being flush up against my chest.
My brain darkened with thoughts of lust immediately. I could see her peeling off her shirt, me pushing her up onto the counter. The warmth of her flesh and familiarity of her cries would be mouth-watering temptations that became mouth-watering pleasure as we both succumbed to the animalistic sides of our nature.
Elena’s chest rose and fell sharply, her cheeks warming.
A smile grew up my face as I realised her mind had gone to the same exact place mine had.
“My Elena–”
Roman slammed a plate down beside us. “Cool it down, Tarkhanov. This is a public place, and your child is not even three meters away.”
“No, leave them alone!” This came from Danika. “I want another nephew.”