13
Sadie
Iwas leaving work when the Tesla pulled up next to the truck. I sighed. It had been a long day. I didn’t really want to have this confrontation — and certainly not here at Tides.
I was more than a little surprised, however, to see my twin getting out of the passenger seat as Mikhail left the driver’s side.
“It’s a regular Tides reunion,” I observed drily, crossing my arms over my chest. “We should let the dean know. He loves squeezing money out of successful alumni.”
Jonathan held his hands up. “Look, I’m the absolute last person who wants to interfere in your love life. But you need to hear Misha out.”
“The last thing I heard you say about Misha wasn’t as kind,” I said.
“We worked it out,” Jonathan said. “All you have to do is communicate and you can solve all your problems.”
“Really classy, Jon,” I said, noting Mikhail’s black eye as soon as he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Stellar communication. A-plus. Gold star.”
“Maybe I was talking with my hands, at first,” Jonathan said. “But this idiot loves you, Sadie. Just let him talk. You haven’t even given him a chance to do that. You’re not answering your phone.”
“I think he said plenty the last time we talked,” I said coolly. “Did you tell my brother what you said, Misha?”
“Come on, malysh,” he said, rubbing his beard. “I already have one black eye.”
“It can’t be bad enough for you to freeze him out,” Jonathan said with a sigh. “Am I really going to have to mediate this?”
“I fucked up, Sadie,” Mikhail said. “And I’m so sorry. I was shocked and scared and stupid. But I’m going to do the right thing. Those are my kids.”
There was something powerful about him saying it aloud. They were our kids. We’d made them together.
“It was never about the money,” I said. “I don’t care if you’re rich or poor.”
“I know that,” he said. “I was lashing out at you from a place of deep insecurities. I’m going to work on myself. I swear it.”
“I want you to be a part of their lives, Misha,” I said. “You’re their dad. And you’re so good with them, even if you don’t see it.”
“Kids are a lot like board members, as it turns out,” he said drily. “Give them something to eat and something to do and they won’t cause any problems.”
“Yeah, well, they’ve about got The Wizard of Oz fully memorized,” I said. “That’s your problem, by the way.”
“I’ll introduce them to a new classic next time,” he said. “What are your thoughts on an out-of-season viewing of A Christmas Story?”
“You’ll shoot your eye out!” my brother and I helplessly shouted together.
“That’s not a kid movie,” I said immediately, as soon as I’d finished rolling my eyes at Jonathan.
“We watched it when we were kids,” Mikhail reasoned. “Plus, I thought ‘fudge’ was the worst thing you could ever say. Imagine my surprise when Mamachka made us her special fudge that weekend before the holidays.”
I snorted at the memory, forgetting to be angry at him. “She was just as confused as you were horrified.”
“American culture truly is a horror,” Mikhail agreed. “Sadie, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away,” I said. “That I kept it from you. From both of you, actually. I was scared you’d hate each other.”
“He’s going to do the right thing,” Jonathan said, clapping him on the back. “You just have to give him a chance, Sadie.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I said.
“But not here and now?” my brother asked. “I’m a little confused.”