AllFreeNovel
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They look better out here, in the public eye, than hidden away in a tiny office.
Sitting behind the front desk I do a quick check of the schedule. My studio has had an endless list of students signing up. I never imagined having to limit class sizes before, but there's no choice. I don't even care that the reason has nothing to do with me or my teaching skills.
Once word spread that Astana Bukharova was running workshops, our phone didn't stop ringing. Sighing, I scribble down a few notes for myself on a chart. Don't be miserable, you wanted success, and now you have it. I'm grateful...
But I also miss the quiet beach in the Maldives.
I glance up, catching my mother just as she pushes the door open with my son in her arms. My heart bursts to its limit. Who needs a private island when I've got him? "Hi, Mom," I say, hurrying around to take Steven.
He's dressed in a breathable cotton onesie the color of a tangerine. Cooing at me, he waves his fat little fists. Pressing my face into his hair I breathe in until I'm dizzy.
"I don't mind watching him, of course," Mom says, "but I hope you're not working too hard. You know I'd be happy to take more shifts."
"You already teach half the morning classes, Mom. It's really fine." I kiss each of Steven's cheeks. "Did you have fun with babushka?"
He tucks one of his hands into his mouth, gnawing it with a smile.
The door opens again. Arsen stands there, the warm air billowing into the studio. He's wearing a short-sleeve moss green shirt that hugs his biceps. His faded jeans cover the tops of his tan boots.
"Arsen," I say, smiling happily.
He lays a kiss on my cheek before taking Steven in a single huge arm. His son squeals in excitement. They share the same eyes, and I wonder when Steven grows up how much he'll look like his father. "Are you ready to go?" he asks me and my mother.
She nods her head towards the dance room. "Let me tell Ruslan it's time."
Arsen and I are alone with Steven. We come together naturally, hugging our son with our heads bent together. I crave moments like this, but today, I also need it.
I gently and carefully brush the dirt off the grave. When I'm done it's nearly polished. "Hey, Dad," I whisper, kneeling down. "Sorry about the mess. These summer rains are making everything muddy."
The grass has grown thick in the cemetery. Yellow dandelions have cropped up around my father's grave in thick blankets that lure honeybees. A few buzzes near me in drifting motions, settling here or there but leaving me alone.
That's good. I need to be alone.
"Steven is growing up really fast, I can hardly believe it. One day he's crying in the hospital, the next he's starting to roll onto his back. He's going to be a spunky one, I think." I'm smiling, but tears well up in my eyes; I wipe them away. "I wish you could meet him. I wish... I wish you were here. I miss you more than you know."
I pick out Steven's laughter on the breeze. I'm far enough away that I can barely make out my mother across the cemetery. She's holding Steven high, turning him like he's flying. I let her visit Dad first, explaining I had things to say in private. She didn't argue.
Just to her right, I see Arsen looming over a grave, his head bent so low his whole face is shadowed. Beside him is someone else. Mila's black and blue moto jacket shimmers in the sun. She's cut her hair recently, the strands ruler-edged to line up with her jaw.
I can't read the name on the grave they're standing at. I know who it is, though.
Kostya's death has weighed heavily on them both. At his memorial, Arsen spoke proudly about his bravery and how honorable he was. It feels strange to recall I used to hate Kostya. He'd been cruel to me, but in the end, his loyalty never wavered.
He'd saved Arsen once and died trying a second time. No one will forget his sacrifice.
Mila glances up suddenly, sensing me staring. I stiffen because even at this distance her eyes are hawkish. She considers me for a long while with the wind ruffling her short hair. Finally, she turns, whispers something to Arsen, and walks off with her hands in her jacket pockets.
She's always acted aloof, but I know how big her heart is.
It's thanks to her that I got this back. Clutching something in my cardigan, I lightly trace each letter of my dad's name on the grave. I hesitate before repeating it with his surname. My heart thuds quicker, curling on itself as I fight a wave of sadness.
"Until next time." Placing the rose brooch on top of the grave, I lean forward, tapping my lips on the stone in a gentle kiss. "Bye, Dad."
"This is so good! Your chef is amazing!" Audrey gushes. She stuffs another forkful of salmon into her mouth; some of it drips onto her golden dress, and she winces, dabbing at it with a napkin. Josh hides an entertained smile behind his second glass of wine. He's drinking more than the rest of us, especially Audrey, who hasn't touched hers.
Giggling politely, I point my fork at Arsen. "He cooked this, actually."
Audrey freezes with her fork in her mouth. Wide-eyed, she swallows the food, washing it down with some ice water. "He what? Well, I was already happy for you, but this confirms you've got yourself a real catch."
