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The Public Libraries of New York Association hosts this fundraiser every year, but this is the first time I’ve actually attended. My work schedule is normally so crammed full I have no choice but to be selective about which events I can and can’t go to. The event organizers seem as surprised as I am to see me here.
“Thank you so much for coming, Mr. Antonov,” Charlie, the lead coordinator, says as he vigorously shakes my hand. He reminds me a bit of a hamster—chubby cheeks, fluffy light blonde hair atop his head, and a round body. He’s dressed in a dull brown corduroy suit complete with elbow patches, a pair of thin spectacles sitting on the wide bridge of his nose.
“How’s the new equipment working out for you?” I ask.
He keeps shaking my hand, his gratitude practically radiating from his every pore. “They’re splendid, Mr. Antonov! Absolutely wonderful. Your generosity is truly appreciated. We have enough to donate at least five new units to every single branch in the city!”
“I’m very glad to hear it.”
The fundraiser is alive and kicking. As far as events go, this is by far the most casual I’ve ever been to, but I can’t exactly blame them. Being a non-profit means there’s usually very little wiggle room where their budget is concerned. The main lobby of the central branch has been done up to the best of their ability. They’ve sprung for a handful of colorful balloons, streamers, and a spread of several long tables hosting an assortment of different finger foods and drinks.
The turnout is great. There are plenty of parents and their children, a few members of the library board, and—most importantly—a gaggle of news reporters and journalists. Given everything that’s been going on, I’m not here to make a spectacle. Just showing up and making a huge donation will no doubt do the heavy lifting for me. If I try too hard, I run the risk of playing too obvious a hand.
“Would you like to meet the rest of the board?” Charlie asks me with a wide smile. “I’m sure everyone would love to thank you personally.”
“Sure, let me just check on my—”
I turn to discover that Alina is no longer by my side. I’ve lost her in the crowd somewhere. It’s not quite panic I feel, but it’s definitely a heightened sense of concern. My first and immediate thought is she’s somehow managed to slip away again. It’s been a hot minute since Alina made any attempt at escaping me and this marriage. For a moment, I feel stupid for letting my guard down. The trust we had been building… Was it all for show?
My thoughts immediately quiet down, however, when I see her across the library lobby with a group of children. Alina crouches down so she’s eye-level with them, a handful of the kids proudly showing off the books they’d picked from the nearby shelves. I’m too far away to hear what she’s saying, but I can tell she’s laughing by the shake of her shoulders and the way the corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles.
Guilt suddenly hits me in the gut. I thought she had abandoned me. I’ve never been happier to be proven wrong.
Thankfully, the next hour passes quickly.
Lots of hands to shake, plenty of elbows to rub. Nobody here brings up the recent scandals Alina and I have faced, though I do get a couple of pointed looks here and there. It’s a good thing the guests all have enough sense not to bring it up. It wouldn’t be a good idea to insult the biggest donor of the night, after all.
Alina eventually finds her way back to me. Her cheeks are rosy and her smile is contagious. She easily settles in at my side, looping one arm comfortably around my back while I rest an arm over her shoulder.
“Where have you been?” I ask lightly.
“Were you lonely without me?” she teases. “I was caught up with the kids’ story time. They’re so cute! I couldn’t pry myself away.”
I press a kiss to her temple. I’m not exactly a fan of public displays of affection, but today, I can’t seem to help it. “You looked good with them,” I whisper.
Her ears redden as she looks up at me in amused surprise. “Did I really?”
I hum. “Yes. Very matronly.”
She nibbles her bottom lip, leaning against me a little further. “Actually… I wanted to ask you about something.”
“What is it?”
“Well, it’s about what you said the other day. About wanting six—”
“Mr. Antonov!” someone calls my name. I turn just in time to see Charlie shuffling on over, a photographer following close on his tail. “Mr. Antonov, would it be alright if we took a picture together? It’s for thePLNYA’s monthly newsletter. I want all of our subscribers to know about you and your wife’s generous donation.”
I smile stiffly. “Sure, I’d be happy to.”
I’ve never been a particularly photogenic person. Staring down the lens of a camera has always unnerved me, but when I feel Alina’s hand on my back, my unease quickly melts. After a couple of quick flashes, the deed is done and my breathing finally returns to normal.
“Thank you again,” Charlie says, still riding the high of his initial excitement. “We seriously can’t thank the two of you enough for coming.”
“It was our pleasure. Thank you so much for having us,” Alina says with a diplomatic air about her. She really would be a great fit for the PR department if she were ever so inclined.
The night is quickly wrapping up, and while I had a good time, I’m eager to get Alina home. As I guide her toward the door, I lean down to murmur in her ear.
“I was serious,” I answer her interrupted question from earlier. “A minimum of six kids.”
