I hear a ruckus at the front door, a dog barking and exclamations. Babushka pushes herself away from the counter, clapping her hands and wiping her palms on her apron. She chatters to me enthusiastically.
I just stand there for a few long seconds, not sure what to do. Eventually babushka sort of gives up on me, shrugging in frustration and waddling out of the kitchen.
When Daniel reappears, I breathe a sigh of relief and glare at him meaningfully. It worked out okay, and it wasn't very long, but I'm still not thrilled about being abandoned here. I see him reach out with his hand, gesturing to someone in the next room. Then he pulls her in.
And I don't understand.
What am I seeing here?
The woman looks at me intensely, blinking her bright green eyes, before reaching up to push her straight, blonde hair behind her ears.
“Mama?”
“Kita!” she murmurs before throwing her arms out. I run across the kitchen and crash into her, holding her tightly around her middle. We stand together, sobbing until our bodies are trembling, wrung out like dishtowels that have been holding liquid for too long.
Finally I push back from her, looking her up and down.
“Mama, I can't believe it! How did you… Where have you… It’s been forever, and I don't even know what to ask!”
She nods, then shrugs, then sort of looks at the ceiling like there's some kind of answer there. I know exactly how she's feeling: there's an avalanche of emotions inside of her and she can't figure out which one she is supposed to express first. I feel that way sometimes. It is something we have in common.
I can't believe she's here!
“Let me look at you!” she demands. She pushes back from me, inspecting me from top to bottom. Her eyes settle on my pregnant belly, and she jerks my left hand forward to inspect the ring on my finger. She twists, turning to look at Daniel without letting me go. I'm glad she's not letting me go. I'd like to keep touching her for a long, long time.
“You?”
“Definitely me,” he grins, shuffling over to walk behind me. He smooths my hair and squeezes me from behind. Just this brief contact helps to settle me, center me. I'm beyond thrilled that she's here, but so nervously excited that I'm afraid I'll just vibrate myself into a pile of dust on the floor. Daniel's presence calms me down, just enough.
“I still don't understand…”
“Well, it's sort of a long story,” she begins carefully. I search her face, noticing the light creases around her eyes. The last four years have not been easy ones for her, I can tell.
“You don't have to explain,” I whisper.
“Oh, I want to! I owe you an explanation. It's just that when I returned here, the political climate was not very favorable to Americans. Even though I was born here, they looked at me suspiciously. I was detained. Not officially, but unofficially.”
“But, Mama, it's been years since we spoke…”
She doesn't say anything, just looks at me. And I realize, it was years for her too. I can't even imagine how hard it was for her. Being unable to reach out, unable to ask me how I was doing.
I draw her close again, holding her tightly. At least now she can know how happy I am with Daniel. How it all worked out like some kind of magical fairytale.
A thought occurs to me, and I pivot, squinting at him.
“Did you… have something to do with this?”
He shrugs one big, muscular, superhero-sized shoulder and stares manfully out the tiny back window. I don't know what he thinks he's looking at. It's not like looking away from me makes him invisible or anything.
And I am so excited, I could just kiss him right here. I'm not sure how my almost brand-new old grandma would feel about that, though, so I resist.
For now.
“Your fiancé is a very clever man,” my mother whispers, bending close to my ear. “You made an exceptional choice.”
I take her hand, squeezing it tightly in mine the way that I used to do when we sat together on the sofa, each reading our own books. The way we used to do when we talked sometimes, when we cuddled in bed late at night. I never want to let her go again.
And staring at Daniel, I never want to let him go either. He's given me more than I could have ever dreamed to ask for. He's like some kind of magical sorcerer, knowing exactly what I need and somehow being able to make it all happen.