“Yes. I didn’t know a lot about her, but we had a short-lived affair for about a month. Then she went back home—to Russia—and I never heard from her again. Back then, we didn’t have Facebook or any of that, so it was easy for her to disappear.”
Self-consciously, I tugged the sleeves of my hoodie over my Russian tattoos. What would he do if he knew who I was? This was insane. I couldn’t believe I was talking to my father over a couple beers.
“So your wife is mad about this woman?”
He straightened up in his seat and shook his head. “No. She’s mad I still haven’t reached out to my son. He’s in the United States. His mother told me that much, along with informing me he wants nothing to do with me.”
My eyes widened. He’d spoken to my mama? When? She hadn’t said anything to me about it.
“Wait, but you said you lost touch with her. How did you get in contact?” I was fishing for information, desperate to get the full story.
“I looked her up on Russian Facebook when I found out about my son. It’s called VKontakte. There she was, smiling beside a man in her profile picture. The caption said it was their twenty-fifth anniversary. I did the math. She cheated on him with me.”
“You didn’t know she was married?”
“I didn’t. I remember her telling me she had a boyfriend back home, but they were going through a rough patch. I’d just broken up with my high school sweetheart, and I was looking for comfort, so I overlooked the boyfriend and didn’t ask too many questions.” He laughed. “Jesus. I’m telling you my life story as if you’re an old friend. Tell me to shut up if you’ve had enough.”
“It’s keeping my mind off my business.” I needed him to keep going. “So what are you going to do?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. The woman told me my son isn’t interested in knowing me, so I’m not sure I have a right to impose myself on him.”
I swallowed past the ball of anger in my throat. My mama had betrayed me many times in the past, but this betrayal felt different. She knew I wanted to find my father, and she’d lied to his face. “How sure are you that’s the truth?”
“I can’t be sure. I don’t know her. What she said to me was that she’s no longer in contact with her son. He left Russia and lives in the US now, and he has no interest in finding me. Then she hung up.”
“Do you know his name?”
He nodded. “Kazimir. I googled it. It means destroyer of peace.” A bitter laugh trickled out of him. “Seems fitting. I haven’t felt a moment of peace since finding out about him.”
I sipped on my drink to wash away the sting of his words.
“But my wife says that’s my own fault,” he continued. “She’s been telling me for nearly a year now to just do it instead of being chicken shit. We got into another fight over it tonight.” He closed his eyes and scratched his brow, as if pained by the thought of their argument. “But the longer I don’t do anything, the harder it seems. How do I explain to him why I didn’t reach out the moment I found out he existed?”
“It’s a big decision. I’m sure he’d understand.”
“Maybe.” He tapped his fingers on the glass. “We have a young daughter. She’s ten. Ever since she started speaking, she’s been telling us how much she wants a brother. I think she’d be happy to know this boy.”
Looking at the liquor bottles, I sucked in a quiet breath. I’d seen my little half sister once through the window of their home. I’d been so overwhelmed with jealousy that I’d never allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to know her. What if we got along well? What if I could be a good brother to her?
My father drained the last of his beer. “Well, anyway. It’s time for me to stop moping and head back. Thanks for listening.”
“So what are you going to do?” I asked just as he hopped off the stool.
“I don’t know.” He smiled at me again. “I guess I’m still waiting for some kind of a sign.”
Before I could talk myself out of it, I placed my hand on his arm. He looked down at it in surprise.
“If I were in your shoes, I’d reach out to him,” I said. “I think sons need fathers, and you seem like you’d be a good one.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. And then he put his hand over mine and smiled. “Well then, I guess you’re my sign.”
Goosebumps broke out over my skin, and I dropped my hand. “Good luck.”
He zipped up his jacket and started to leave before turning back to me. “Hey, this girl you’re trying to get back. Is she the one?”
“I think so.”
“Let me give you a piece of advice that’s done well for me in my marriage. Play catch, not tennis. When someone you love pulls away, don’t throw their concerns right back at them. Don’t get defensive or tell them they’re wrong. Instead, hold on to the new information you just got and really try to understand where they’re coming from. If you’re anything like me, you like to resolve problems quickly. But sometimes it takes going slow to go fast.”
