Page 25 of My Russian Roommate

I take her in my arms and press my lips against hers. My love for her grows stronger and deeper with each passing day. Now, standing here knowing that my child is growing inside her, I wonder if it’s possible to love her any more than this.

“Let’s get you inside and off your feet for a while,” I tell her.

“I’m okay, my love,” she rests her head on my shoulder.

“It’s my job to take care of you, remember? Besides, I don’t want to strip you naked out here.”

She smiles and says, “Okay. Let’s go, Daddy.”

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

LEV

Five Years Later

Ifinish my shift and begin the long drive along the lake to the outskirts of Kirilov. It’s spring and all of the trees are in bloom, creating a billowy green landscape between the Monastery and the village. Being a member of the politsiya here is a far cry from working with the NYPD.

Scuffles between neighbors and the occasional drunk tourist are the most exciting parts of my job, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. When my shift is over, I hang up my hat and devote my time to the things that really matter—my beautiful wife, Leah, and our baby girl, Leona.

Arriving home, I open the door and follow the aroma of fresh baked goodness to the kitchen. Leona is propped up at the counter covered in flour and shouts, “Daddy’s home!” She holds her arms out to me and Leah says, “She’s going to get flour on your uniform.”

“I don’t care. I need my hug,” I answer and take my daughter in my arms. I spin her in a circle and kiss her tiny button nose. “Why do you look like a ghost? Where did all this flour come from?”

“Mommy and I baked a cake for you. Happy birthday, Daddy.”

I look at Leah who has stopped what she was doing to witness our folly.

“That was supposed to be a surprise for later,” she grins.

I set Leona down on the floor and take Leah in my arms. “You baked me a cake? I bet it’s delicious.” I kiss her neck and add, “But not as delicious as this. There’s nothing in the world as sweet as you.”

“Or you,” she answers, kissing me on the lips. “Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes. I thought I’d give you time to shower and change.”

“Thanks, baby. I’ll be quick.”

“I have to clean up this little flour girl, too,” she grins.

I enter the bedroom to find that Leah has laid out a warm towel, shirts, and a tee shirt for me. She does thoughtful little things like this for me every day. I don’t know how she finds the time being such a good mother to the beautiful child she’s given me.

I climb inside the old clawfoot tub and pull the curtain closed. As the warm water falls on my body I think back to the day Leah and I met. It’s a memory that I visit often. That moment when she looked so tiny and lost sitting on the sidewalk as the flames consumed her home. When she looked up at me and captured my heart and soul. Five years and a child later, she hasn’t changed a bit. She’s still the same gorgeous little girl I met that day.

Showered and changed into the clothes she laid out for me, I head back to the kitchen. The table is set with my grandmother's china. In the middle, a tall porcelain water pitcher holds a colorful bouquet of wildflowers flanked by two lit candles.

“I picked the flowers for your dinner, Daddy. Do you like them?” Leona announces.

“I love them, sweet girl. Thank you.”

“Everybody sit down. The food is on the way,” Leah says and Leona parrots, “The food is on the way, the food is on the way!”

Leah struggles to carry the large platter of roasted lamb to the table, so I get up and take it from her. She returns to her staging area and follows me with a bowl of stewed potatoes and carrots.

“Russian comfort food,” I observe.

“I found your mother’s recipe cards and thought I’d give it a try. Oh, I forgot the dumplings,” she says, returning to the kitchen for another pass.

“It looks and smells amazing, malyshka,” I wink.

“Za zde-ro-vye!” Leona shouts, tossing her hands in the air.

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