She played with her nails, and then squirmed in her spot. She even unbuckled her seatbelt before Valsav could pull off on the paved, but icy, drive into the designated carports for staff or visitors.
He wanted to point out her nerves and ask about them—and would, as soon as he found their designated parking spot among the many rows of vehicles.
Vera filled him in before he could do either of those things. “You mean, what I’m paying, right?”
She didn’t say it with malice or sarcasm. Just an honest question with facts to back it up because he was there the night the paperwork was faxed through, and she signed her name on every line he told her to.
Each one for a different account. Banks, properties, and investments. All of it now belonged to her at the end of the day. Of course, he still had access to the money—or rather, he was able to handle the money and move it how he pleased with minimal limits, hence his ability to deal with his mother’s medical care, but that was only for practical purposes.
He had no intention of draining any account behind Vera’s back, or doing untoward things with the money that could cause her issues in the future. That wasn’t the point. His wealth was simply one more thing he chose to let go of—in a way—for the sake of his retirement. There was nothing to take; nothing to ruin if it wasn’t actually his. The accountant who previously handled his dirty money and protected it likely appreciated the constant threat that followed them simply by being attached to Vaslav’s money in a tangible way.
Not that it mattered now.
“If it helps,” he settled on saying as he pulled into the spot with the number that matched his slip spray painted to the brick wall their car now faced, “it’ll probably work out to the same at the end of the year if I factor in all the money I shovel out to clean up my mother’s messes. Her allowance was like a ...” He considered how he wanted to work that, trailing off long enough for Vera to cock an eyebrow in question. “A base pay, yeah?”
“And the rest is what?”
Vaslav chuckled dryly. “A consequence for my repeated stupidity.”
Obviously.
He had no one to blame for the mess that was his mother except for himself, and perhaps that was the part of this entire situation that bothered Vaslav the most more than anything else. Had he simply dealt away with his mother decades ago when she was at the very height of her worst and most toxic behavior, then he could have saved a lot of people from a great deal of grief and trauma down the line. Starting with himself, rounding out around his first wife, and now ...
Well, hindsight was what it was.
Vaslav glanced Vera’s way who had yet to make a move to exit the vehicle even though he had turned off the engine. “I was told they’re particular about keeping appointment times.”
Vera nodded, but absentmindedly. Her fingernails, on the other hand, took the brunt of her anxiety. “Oh, okay. I guess we’d better—”
“What is it?” he asked. “You were willing to make personal calls, but now that we’re here and making a proper visit, you don’t want to meet your mother-in-law?”
She didn’t appreciate his sarcasm if her scowl was any indication.
“I never said that,” she returned just as fast.
“You’re about to pick off that French manicure from your spa trip. You didn’t have to say it, kisska. I’m not blind.”
Vera’s fidgeting stopped instantly, but her glower didn’t lessen for even a second. “You know, all I really cared about was why she was here. You’ve come up with the rest all on your own, and I at least had the decency not to point it out.”
Until now.
He heard what she didn’t say.
If only it made a difference.
“Is that still all you care about?” he asked.
Vera shrugged. “If why means she should be here, well—”
“After I cut off her financial support the month before we married, she had two unsuccessful suicide attempts. Both of which came on after her usual drinking binges, but the last one landed her in a psych ward in the city hospital. That’s when I got called.”
Or rather, Mira took the first message and then passed the information along. Vaslav never even had to speak to his mother to deal with the situation at hand. Roseville happened shortly after.
He never cared to find out how Natalia felt about the transfer, and if she had a clue about his involvement in getting her into Roseville, he couldn’t say. Never mind the fact that until the doctors signed off on her file, she wouldn’t be let out. That couldn’t happen unless she was no longer a danger to herself or others. It took very little time in his mother’s vicinity to learn she would always be those things in one way or another.
“Add a handful of personality and behavior disorders on top of her long-term alcoholism, and I can’t think of a better place she’s suited to be except here,” Vaslav said.
As he reached for the inner door handle on the driver’s side to exit the vehicle once and for all, Vera asked, “But how long will that be? Her stay here, I mean.”
Vaslav shoved the car door open, muttering under his breath, “If I’m lucky, the rest of her damned life.”
If his wife had heard his hateful comment, Vera didn’t say.
Truth be told, he’d never been the one with a pocket full of luck, however, and he doubted the universe would pay him back in arrears now by starting with his mother. That just wasn’t how this shit worked for him.
Leaning back in the opened door of the Rolls, he told Vera before he shut it, “Let’s go. Not even Moscow’s Beast gets a pass on a late appointment in hell. And say goodbye to the Rolls—I’ll call for a driver to take us back to the city for the night.”
Vera wasn’t long scrambling out of the car after he shut the door. “Wait, you’re just leaving the Rolls-Royce here? For good?”
He wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t forgotten his news about getting rid of the Rolls before they returned to Dubna. Vaslav admired the rear of the vehicle as Vera rounded the back to come and stand at his side. “It’s been well-used.”
Just not often.
And should someone come looking for him in a white Rolls—well, too bad for that poor fool.
“You can’t just leave it parked here—aren’t we supposed to check out with the same vehicle when we leave?” she asked him.
“They’ll impound it.”
Eventually, he’d be notified and it wouldn’t change anything. Vaslav had no intention of retrieving the vehicle, and he didn’t care what happened to it beyond the impound. Likely an auction to the highest bidder, and the government would absorb the profits made.
The loss didn’t hurt.
“And what will we drive when a driver isn’t a phone call away?” Vera questioned.
Cute, he thought. There would always be someone on call. Someone willing to take payment in the form of cold, hard cash that couldn’t be traced to do his bidding. As long as he always had the money to pay.
But to answer her question ...
“Christmas is only a couple of weeks away,” he told Vera. “Don’t be so impatient.”
“My family never really celebrated Christmas.”
“Right, non-practicing Jews.” Vaslav shrugged under the weight of his thick tweed jacket. “I’m not all that concerned you might refuse the presents.”