Page 8 of Sergei
I stood there, stroking her neck in silence until I felt eyes on me. I turned my head just enough to catch the sight of my mother leaning against the stall door, arms folded lightly over her chest. She wore one of her thick wool shawls and a small, knowing smile. I continued to stroke Moya as I said, “Morning, Mother.”
“It’s early. Anything wrong?”
“No. Just came to check on things.” I motioned my head toward Moya. “She hasn’t been eating.”
“I know. We’ve been keeping an eye on her.” Her voice was soft and warm. It always had been. “She’s just being dramatic. Like all the women in this family.”
“You included?”
“Especially me,” she said, and stepped inside the stall and sighed. “Lucky for me, I have a wonderful son who takes care of me, regardless of my dramatic tendencies.”
“You’re the least dramatic woman I know.”
“You clearly don’t know many women.”
“I know enough.”
“I wish that was true.” She gave me one of her motherly looks. “You take such good care of me and your brothers. You look after everything at home and the casino, and you even help look out for the horses. But you don’t have anyone looking out for you.”
Her words cut deep.
Partly because it was true and partly because it came from her. I thought the world of my mother, and the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint her. I didn’t want her to worry about me, so I told her, “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
She studied me for a moment, as if she could see straight through me, and let out another sigh. “Everyone needs someone.”
“I’ve got someone.” I glanced over at her with a smirk. “I’ve got you.”
“I don’t count. I’m your mother,” she fussed. “You need a woman at your side. Someone you can lean on and share your life with… Someone you can love.”
“This life doesn’t allow for that.”
“It did for me.”
“I’m not you.”
“Sergei.”
“It’s better this way. I know what my priorities are.”
“And what if your priorities could include happiness?”
I didn’t answer.
Because I wasn’t sure if I could do both. I wasn’t sure I had it in me. I’d been with women, plenty of them, but I’d never felt anything for any of them.
But there were definite moments when I felt that brief, sharp ache of loneliness. It was usually at night when I had too much on my mind. It was one of the reasons I’d decided to come out to the stables.
I didn’t feel so alone out here.
I ran my hand through my hair as I told her, “Might want to call the vet and have him check her out. Just to be safe.”
She didn’t argue. She simply reached out and slipped her arms around me, hugging me as she said, “You’re a good man, Sergei. You deserve love, too.”
“Not sure about that.”
My mother hadn’t always been so eager for me to find love, mainly because she wasn’t sure it truly existed. That’s what happens when you’re married to a man like my father. He didn’t love anything he couldn’t control.
My mother had been no exception. He’d broken her down one calculated piece at a time, continually reminding her that she belonged to him. She was to stand silently at his side and wear his name with grace and dignity.
