He didn’t respond and she started to feel like there was something he wasn’t telling her. “What’s wrong?”
“Varushka . . .” He paused and her stomach tightened. “Nina said something last week that made me think . . .”
“Yes?” A sliver of dread snaked up her spine. She froze with her hand on the door. “What is it?”
“Has Konstantin told you how he started his business?”
What did that matter? Why did Papa suddenly sound so suspicious? “He said he learned very young how to work with cars and that he was lucky his business got popular. Why?”
“Oh, nothing, really.”
It didn’t seem like nothing.
“But I want you to do something for me.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, feeling like she might not like this.
“I want you to dig deeper. Find out how he started his business. Where did he get the start-up money?”
Silly paranoia. Either that or he was just desperate for her to come back. With a sigh, she finished screwing in the hinge and tested the cabinet door. Perfect. Pleased it was fixed, she headed to the basement to return the screwdriver.
“I’m not going to spy on him, Papa,” she said, rolling her eyes though he couldn’t see. “If he’s going to be my husband, I can’t snoop.”
“He won’t be your husband if he’s hiding something.”
Her father was the one who’d told her to come to America and fall in love, and now that she was here and happy, he wanted her to ruin everything by being sneaky? She felt like banging her head on the wall. Or maybe throwing the phone across the room.
“Oh, Papa! You’re being ridiculous!” What else could she say?
“Varushka, don’t be naive. How can a Russian farm boy with dead parents make millions of dollars in America?”
Wasn’t this the land of opportunity? Wasn’t that why Papa had sent her here in the first place? And if he had a concern about how successful Konstantin was, it was kind of late for him to start getting upset about it now.
“He’s very smart.”
“No one is that smart,” her father grumbled. “Money doesn’t appear just because you have brains. He’s hiding something. I want you to find out what.”
She tossed the screwdriver back in the box, then headed upstairs. He was being silly, but his heart was in the right place. “Maybe you should ask Baba Nina if you’re so concerned. I’m sure she has no reason to hide any—”
“Varushka!” he barked. “I am your father. Your loyalty is to me. You are not married yet and you won’t be if I don’t find out his record is clean.”
His voice turned her to stone at the top of the stairs. She knew that tone. And it still made her feel like a small child, in trouble for mischief.
Panic clutched at her. How could Konstantin even prove he was innocent? Would anything be enough to make her father happy? Her distress mounted, making her dizzy. Then it occurred to her.
She wasn’t a child anymore.
She would be a wife soon, and then a mother. When did she stop answering to him?
After a quiet moment, he said, “You will do this, yes?”
It was hard to swallow. Could she defy her papa? Not easily. But she couldn’t betray Konstantin either. He was going to be her husband. How could she start their relationship with secrecy and snooping? And didn’t he deserve a chance to explain?
But Papa was family. Blood. Her allegiance was to him first, wasn’t it?
He was right. She and Kon weren’t married. Not yet. So who came first? Her future husband or her father?
Her stomach felt queasy, her muscles weak. She walked back into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter. “I will . . . try,” she choked out. “Let me talk to Mama please.”