Page 8 of Dimitri
"She was in her twenties when that was painted. Right before she met your father."
"She was a truly beautiful woman." Emotions made his tone thick, and he felt the rush of grief as he continued to stare at her.
"If it's too much, I can take it down."
"No." He shook his head and turned to smile at her. "I have photos of her on my phone and one I carry in my wallet. I like to think she's near."
"She is. In our hearts, always." Elizabeth stared at the portrait and felt her heart crumbling. "She's always with us." She cleared her throat. "I'll leave you to get some rest. I know jet lag is catching up with you. Supper is at seven."
He turned her to face him, marveling at how delicate she appeared. "Thank you for opening up yourself and your home to me."
Lifting a hand, she touched the dark stubble on his cheek. "Your home, darling. See you later."
She left the room quietly and closed the doors behind her.
For a few minutes, he stood there staring at the lovely woman wearing green and staring at him. Shaking off the feeling of nostalgia, he turned in a circle to take in the room fully. The bed was massive—no doubt custom-made. The trio of windows overlooked the greenhouse. He could see several buildings in the distance. Cottages for the employees, that much he knew. He didn't know a lot about farming, but knew that his grandparents ran a large establishment and a successful one. Crossing the room, he leaned against the frame and inhaled, the coldness of the pane creeping through his sweater. Everything still looked so green and healthy. Snow was dripping off leaves, and the wind was stirring them, whipping and dashing the powdery white substance to the ground. Winter in the states could not in any way compare to winter in Russia, where it was so cold even one's very breath seemed to freeze into ice. Despite the weather, there seemed to be a lot going on. He glimpsed cattle, horses, and people scurrying to do the day-to-day activities that were required.
An amused smile touched his lips as he wondered what his role would be. He had horses at home and had been riding since before he could speak. He was also very athletic. But he had never had to do much manual labor. It would be interesting to find out what he was good at, because he had no intention whatsoever of staying idle.
Fatigue pressed on him with a suddenness that had him drawing in several deep breaths. It was time to take a shower and perhaps relax a little before supper.
*****
"Your belief in mankind is commendable." Jessica stirred the olives in her margarita absently, mahogany-brown eyes darting around the room. "That child could very well be robbing those people blind by now."
Allison grimaced as she picked up her own drink. The piña colada was much too heavy on the rum, but she had chosen to take a cab to the club instead of driving. "Thanks for putting that image in my head. Won't you tell me what's going on?"
Jessica shrugged listlessly. She was a former model turned executive who had opened her own lingerie store that was doing very well. And she had been married for ten years without the hope of having a child.
"The treatment didn't work."
"Oh honey, I'm sorry." Instantly sympathetic, Allison reached over to squeeze her hand.
"God is punishing me." She smiled grimly. A tall, graceful woman, she had a flawless ebony complexion and wore her hair in short spiky curls. The two friends made a strikingcombination and had the male patrons sending them longing looks—which were ignored, of course.
"Honey, why do you say that?"
"I had two abortions when I was in my early twenties." Picking up her drink, she tasted the salt and sucked on the rim of her glass. "I was arrogant and such a bitch. The career meant everything to me. I was determined never to allow anything to stand in the way of getting to the top. And I was careless."
"You were young."
Jessica laughed softly, expression bleak. "I was careless. I had sex with men—some of whom I had met just the night before. And I never hesitated when I discovered I was knocked up. My first and only thought was to get rid of it. I did and went right back to work." She shrugged again. "Now Jared is suffering from my extreme lack of good sense and low morality."
"Does he know?"
She nodded. "That darling man of mine doesn't blame me one bit."
"And why should he? You were young."
"He said the same thing."
"What about adoption? There are other options."
She shook her head, causing the large silver triangles at her lobes to brush her cheeks. "I want my own baby. Not someone else's."
"And sometimes that's not an option. You could always use a surrogate."
"My husband's sperm fertilizing another woman's eggs? I would feel like Sarah from the Bible and always think of the woman as Hagar, about to make a move on Jared."
