Page 152 of Toxic Salvation
“I am so happy for you, hon,” she says. “You make motherhood look good. So good that I think I might try it someday, too.”
“Oh, yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not moving too fast? You and Pavel haven’t been together very long.”
“No, we haven’t,” she agrees. “But I can’t stop picturing a future with him. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want the white picket fence and the suburban home and the minivan parked in the driveway.”
I snort with laughter. “Please. Pavel would never be caught dead driving a minivan.”
“He’d drive one for me,” she says confidently.
“Jeez, Char. You’re serious.”
“I’m falling for him, V. Hard. If he asks me to marry him, I won’t be able to say no.”
“You think that’s a possibility anytime soon?”
She shrugs. “All I know is that I was ready to marry him on our first date.”
“Charity!”
She shrugs again. “When you know, you know.”
I turn toward the boys. Kovan stands in the middle of Waylen, Osip, and Pavel, his face animated as he describes the moment Vitalii was born. His hands move as he talks, and his eyes are bright with pride and joy.
Charity’s right about that much:When you know, you know.
And looking at Kovan with our son sleeping peacefully in my mother’s arms, surrounded by all the people we love most in the world, I know with absolute certainty that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
51
VESPER
“You’re not supposed to be here!” Luka’s face crumples as Kovan and I step into the kitchen. His shoulders drop like we’ve ruined Christmas all over again.
“We live here,malysh,” Kovan says with a chuckle, setting Vitalii’s carrier on the kitchen table. “I thought you’d be excited to see us back home.”
“I am.” Luka’s bottom lip pushes out. “I just thought you’d be later. We haven’t finished yet.”
Waylen stands beside him at the stove, wooden spoon in hand. The smell of ground beef and fresh tomato sauce fills the air, rich and warm and completely divine after three days of hospital food.
“Oh my God.” I breathe in deeply. “That smells incredible.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Luka wails. “Now, it’s ruined.”
I crouch down in front of him, ignoring the sharp pull across my still-tender abdomen. “Nothing’s ruined. It’s still a beautifulsurprise, Luka. Thank you. Was it your idea to make a special dinner to welcome us home?”
He nods, looking miserable. “Dad told me that when I was born, Uncle Kovan and Uncle Pavel had a special home-cooked dinner ready when he brought me home from the hospital. I wanted to do the same thing for the baby.”
My heart does that painful pump it always does when Luka mentions his father. “Oh, Luka. You are the most wonderful boy. And thisisa surprise—the best kind. How about Papa takes Vitalii for a bit and I help you and Waylen finish up in here?”
“No, you’re supposed to be resting,” Luka protests. “Papa says that, for the next six months, you’re a princess.”
“Queen,” Kovan corrects, lifting Vitalii out of his carrier. “Your mom is nothing less than a queen.”
“Well, I prefer the title of mom, wife, and doctor, thank you very much. And don’t worry—I don’t plan on doing any heavy labor.” I settle onto one of the bar stools and wiggle my fingers at Luka. “Just give me something to cut, chop, or peel. I’m your girl.”
Luka looks to Kovan, who gives him a nod. Only then does he dig around in the refrigerator for some carrots.
“The little man needs a diaper change,” Kovan announces. “I’ll take him upstairs. You good?” he asks me.
