Page 124 of Viparious

“Love mama.”

It doesn’t matter what time she wakes up or where she is, Vlad will always be the first person she asks for, but the little ‘love mama’ always makes up for being second on the list. I’m sure he’s brainwashed her to do it just to piss everyone off.

He perks up when we go back to him and sits her on his thigh so she can look out of the window. Stroking her hair, he kisses her cheek, and she wraps her arms around his neck like she knows he needs it as he pulls me down on his other thigh.

* * *

FasteningVerena’s coat around her, I turn the collars up to protect her from the cold. Vlad has pulled her hat so far down it’s in her eyes and the only part of her I can see is her face. I balance her on my hip as he guides us into the graveyard with his hand on my back. Vero is too excited about all the snow to notice the somber mood and I hook my little finger around his as we walk deeper into the maze of headstones. The large, sweeping willow tree covers his daughters grave and his steps drag the closer we get to it.

There’s no name on the headstone, just a blank slab of stone and it’s too shiny. His smile is warm and sad as he dips down to kiss the corner. He keeps one arm around us and the other around Vanya’s headstone as we sit down. Tears burn the back of my eyes at the way he shuts down. He’s a forty-year-old man, filled with violence and regularly comes home covered in blood. Right now, he’s younger and lost.

Even if it would be weird as fuck, his daughter should be here and my age. We shouldn’t be visiting her on the other side of the world and not actually able to see her. I lose the battle with my emotions, and my tears slip down, warming my cheeks as Vlad softly says, “Solnyshkuh, this is Verena. Your sister.”

Hearing her name, she looks at her papa and climbs forward, sitting on his lap.She stares at him and makes a kissy face when she notices her breath fogging in the cold air.

Vlad doesn’t say anything else. His eyes are blank and he’s slowly blinking into space as he protectively holds us both. I band my arm over Verena so he can use the other. He kisses my forehead and holds the headstone again. Seeing the clergyman making his way from the church, I wipe my cheeks and stand, giving Vlad time alone with his daughters when he refuses to let Verena go.

Grigory and I have never spoken but he’s the person who helped the younger, heartbroken version of my husband, so he will always have my respect. He has a flask in his hand with two cups. He stops at the tree and a soft smile lifts his lips.

He watches Verena press her mitten covered hand to Vlad’s cheek. She moves it side to side in a wave, massaging her father’s cheek, and whispering, “Papa cold?”

Vlad kisses her hand and pulls her closer. “Not cold, just thinking.”

I stop beside Grigory and watch my daughter huff. A small cloud forms in front of her lips as she drags herself up to stand on Vlad’s thigh. She holds his face and brushes her nose against his before scrunching it up.

“Papa no think, make sad.”

Vlad’s lips move, the air fogging in front of him, but it’s too low for me to hear. Grigory pulls my attention away as he pours a cup of steaming tea and hands it to me. “You saved him from a very dark path.”

I take the cup without correcting him. He doesn’t know that Vlad hasn’t been saved from anything when he will always feel the absence of his daughter. He might not have any thoughts of dying anymore, but it doesn’t replace his loss. No life can, but he smiles without malice and sits Verena on his thigh as he dips his head to continue whispering to her.

Vlad

All my joy is muted, the undercurrent of heartache is still there. Holding my two-year-old daughter and introducing her to her older sister, who’s somehow younger than her, feels wrong. Leaning forward, I press my lips to the cold stone in apology. It’s not the same as the visits during previous years. Ever since finding out Len has done this shit, it’s an apology for the relation. For not staying home, when logically, I had no choice because the alternative meant there wouldn’t be a doctor’s visit.For not running away the first moment I held her. I could have done it, Dima managed to live on the street with Katya as a child.

Veroushka wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek, whispering, “Papa think ‘gain?”

Her little hands move in a wave motion against my shoulder, and I hug her closer, kissing her head, feeling only warmth.

“Yeah, malen’kaya zvezda, just thinking.”

She pats my back like she understands I’m lying and doesn’t let go.

One woman and two girls own me. They have the monopoly over my heart and my head. Stroking Verena’s back and Vanya’s cold headstone is a twisted parallel of fatherhood. One I had when I was too young to understand the responsibility but welcomed it. The other when I understood too much and tried to run from it.I have regrets about both, and they will never leave. All of my silent apologies are for their end and their start.

The snow starts falling, bringing with it dread at Verena being in the cold. She brings her mitten-covered hand up, catching the flakes and giggles as one clings to the tip of her nose. So much innocence for nature. She loves the cold, I fucking hate it. Whenever she sees snow, she’s mesmerized and itches to run into it.

She does the same now and softly hums to herself as she dances in slow semi-circles on my thigh. Her tongue pokes out and she catches the flakes on her tongue, making chomping noises.

Standing before my joints go stiff, I kiss Vanya’s headstone and Verena tugs on my neck.

“Mwah.”

It’s her way of saying when she wants a kiss, so I press one to her cheek that’s getting colder. She shakes her head and points to the headstone, fucking killing me with her sweetness.

“No papa, mwah.”

Holding her so she’s close enough, she copies me and kisses the exact same spot, then whispers, “Bye bye, Vanya.”

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