“What’s this I heard about you being on bedrest?”
Gretchen had been smart enough not to put my mom on full alert when she’d called about my bedrest, so my mom still doesn’t know about the kidnapping situation.
“Yeah, it’s just for a week or two. I’m fine, though. Hopefully I’ll be able to make it next week. I miss you guys.”
“Well, should I come over there?”
“No, Mom. You have your hands full with Dad. Gretchen flew out to help me this week, not that I needed any help. I promise I’m fine. Give Dad a kiss for me, okay?”
“Lucy?”
“Yes?”
“What’s going on with you and Ravil? Are you two seeing each other?”
The heaviness in my chest grows even weightier. “No, Mom. We’re just going to figure out how to co-parent.”
“He doesn’t look like your type.” That’s my mom’s very polite way of saying he looks like a criminal.
“He’s not, Mom, but that doesn’t mean he won’t make a great dad.”
That much I believe. With my whole heart.
But does Ravil even still want to be part of the baby’s life?
How ironic that when I didn’t want him to be a part of it, he demanded his place, and now that I’m comfortable with it, he’s ghosting me.
Of course, Gretchen told him to ghost me.
And I haven’t called to say anything different.
I just can’t figure out if I want to call. If I should call.
Are things easier this way? He is a criminal, after all. The FBI are just waiting to take him down. Is that the kind of role model I want for our son?
Hell, no!
My eyes swim with tears. “I’m going to go, Mom. I love you.” I try to make my voice sound normal.
“I love you, too, dear. Let me know how you’re doing.”
“Thanks, I will.”
I look at the clock on my phone.
Birthing class.
It’s ridiculous. I don’t need to go to that class. I can now go back to my plan for a hospital birth with the epidural where I don’t have to worry about anything, the doctors take care of it all.
Except… now that I’ve seen those beautiful home births, my birth plan has lost its appeal.
And I really want to go to that class. I want to see more videos and cry at the beauty of birth.
And yes… I do secretly hope Ravil will be there.
Or that I’ll see him.
We can talk. Figure things out.
I get up, shower and head to the Kremlin. As I approach, my heart starts hammering in my chest. Harder, louder, more insistent than in any courtroom. The place holds so much meaning for me. Tangled, knotted up, confused meaning.
Maykl gives me a wary, suspicious look as I come in, and my heart sinks. Of course, everyone in the building would know what happened. The feds were all over this place.
“Is Mr. Baranov expecting you?” he says, too formal for friendliness.
I swallow. “I’m here for the birthing class.”
His face clears and he straightens. “Right. Third floor. You remember how to get there?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He picks up his phone and starts texting. Telling Ravil, no doubt.
I get a similar reaction from Svetlana when I show up. A bit of shock to see me, but she recovers quickly. “Is Ravil coming?”
I shrug. “I don’t think so. I didn’t tell him I was coming.”
“I see. Well, welcome. I’m glad you came.” She waves a hand in Carrie’s direction. “As you know, birthing at home without a partner is just as beautiful.”
Birthing at home.
Without a partner.
Is that what I’m doing?
I don’t know about that. I just came for the videos. But I don’t tell her that. I have months to decide, still.
I sit through class, sob at the end of each birthing video, and go home alone, without seeing Ravil.
The moment I walk into my apartment, I burst into tears.
Ravil
“No disrespect, but what in the fuck are you doing?” Dima says.
I crack my lids against the afternoon sun to see Dima standing over me, Nikolai beside him. Both of them have their arms crossed over their chests. Twin demons waking me from a drunken stupor.
I’m on the rooftop, getting sunburnt by the pool and drinking enough Beluga Noble vodka to permanently pickle my liver. I’ve been here since last night, I think. I might have slept here.
I lift a sloppy finger and point. “Watch how you speak to me,” I slur. My lids close again to block out the glare.
“Lucy is getting an ultrasound today. And she invited you to come,” Dima intones pointedly.
I crack a lid. “How do you know that?”
“I’m still monitoring all her devices. She texted you last night.”
“And you didn’t bother to answer,” Nikolai supplies.
I wave my hand like I’m shooing a fly. “Get outtahere.” I would tell him to stop monitoring her, but I can’t stand the thought of not knowing what’s going on in her life. It’s unbearable enough to let her go.