Page 58 of Toy for the Teachers (Forbidden Fantasies)

VLAD

All around me, people were fussing over the tiny infant shrouded in billowing layers of white. The church hall was bustling with cousins and friends, but I was only there at my mother’s request. She said the baby’s father was my third or fourth cousin, not that I knew him well… or even his name.

I glanced down at the church bulletin.

“Ivan,” I repeated as I read it.

The lucky man hadn’t been stuck with a name like mine. In my lifetime, I don’t know how many times I’d had to suffer over stupid vampire jokes thanks to my great-grandfather’s name, but my mother adored it. She told me to be proud of the family, my heritage, and my name.

She liked telling me a lot of things.

Following her into the community kitchen, I thought I was helping her refresh the punch bowl, but Mama had an ulterior motive. Her aging hands placed the bowl into my hands

“Oh, you’ll love this nice young girl, she’s so pretty,” Mama said, her squat body shuffling through the crowd of orthodox Russians. “Kira is twenty-nine, good family, and she works at the local middle school as a teacher.”

“Kira?” I repeated.

I realized what was happening seconds too late. Following my mother into the busy kitchen, I thought I was carrying a heavy glass bowl for her sake, but it had only been a ploy and a trap for me. I couldn’t run off with the heavy crystal. Instead, I was trapped in front of a dozen gray-haired Russian women, all watching as my mother got me to help create another batch of punch with this blonde-haired young woman.

She was pretty, but she wasn’t Millie.

“Your mother is very nice,” she remarked while slicing the oranges. “She’s been very good at making me feel welcome here. She even invited me over to her potluck dinners a few times.”

“That sounds like her,” I offered with some reluctance.

I didn’t want to give Kira the wrong impression. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she leaned closer against the counter. My bones twisted with worried anticipation.

“Don’t worry, Vladimir,” she whispered where none of the women could hear. “You’re the fourth single man I’ve met this month, but they don’t know I’m seeing a man at my school.”

“And he doesn’t come here with you?”

“He’s Jewish,” she explained with a conspiratorial smile. “He knows the, oh, how do the kids say it? That’s right, the struggle.”

Laughing, I let my shoulders relax. “What’s his name?”

“Abraham,” she whispered. “Do you have a name?”

I knew what she meant, but I had to check over my shoulder. My mother was clucking like a hen across the long, crowded kitchen with some of her friends.

“Millie,” I answered honestly.

Kira’s gray eyes crinkled at the corners. “How sweet.”

Even if she was stranger, it felt good to proclaim Millie’s claim over me. She had my attention and my affection. She swore that I didn’t need to be only hers, but there was no lacking feeling in our relationship. Everything I wanted could be found in a night with her.

Millie was all I needed to be content, a balance to every other ambition I held.

On my way home, I pulled her number and waited for her voice to play through my car’s speaker system. It was better than any music I could play.

“Hello, Vlad,” Millie greeted me, the smile clear in her voice. “And what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’m driving home, but I realized I don’t have any company for dinner,” I explained.

“Are you hoping I might change that?”

“If you’re free.”

“Hmm, well, let me check my calendar,” she replied, feigning pretense.

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