21. Natalia
21
NATALIA
"Do it, Natalia!" I scold myself. "Just freaking do it!"
I've spent all day trying to drum up the courage to rip the bandage off and tell Aunt Annie about my pregnancy.
She raised you after your parents died. She took you in and loved you like you were her own. You owe her the truth. Don't be such a wuss!
I've known for a week now; I've been living in Andrey's pool house for almost as long. Enough is enough.
I need to tell my aunt.
I dial Aunt Annie's number and spend the next five seconds hoping—like the coward I am—that she won't pick up.
"Nic-Nat!" she greets. "I was wondering when you'd call."
"Sorry, Aunt Annie. I've been busy."
"I was worried you took me too seriously the last time. I wasn't complaining about all your calls, you know."
"I know, I know," I assure her. "This is on me. I really have been busy."
"Well, then, that's a good enough reason to ignore your batty old aunt," she chuckles. "I want you to live your life, my darling girl. If you're busy, that's good news."
I find a shady spot under one of my favorite red sycamores and slide down the trunk to the soft ground. "So, um—" Just do it! "—how are you?"
I slap my forehead with the palm of my hand while she launches into everything going on in her neck of the woods. "… Meryl's daughter's engagement party was quite the affair. They had a string quartet and everything."
"Jeez. If that was just the engagement party, what's the wedding gonna be like?"
"My thoughts exactly," Aunt Annie agrees with a laugh. "But I'm happy for Meryl. It really does something to a parent when your children find their forever partners. It's kind of like you can relax at last."
I pull my feet up to my chest. "Is that how you feel, too?"
She hesitates. "Well, I would be thrilled, if and when you meet your forever partner. But really, I just want to know that you're happy and settled. No matter where you end up in life."
The pressure mounting in my chest makes it hard to concentrate. But I know I can't end this conversation without telling her.
"Aunt Annie… I have some big news."
"Uh-oh! You sound serious."
"Well, it's serious news. But… happy, too," I tack on. "I mean, I'm definitely happy about it." It's not that simple , but she doesn't have to know that. "And I hope you will be, too."
"Honey, you're scaring me."
"I'm… I'm pregnant."
A long stretch of silence. And then?—
"Oh my God!" Aunt Annie exclaims. "Oh my goodness gracious! Are you really? This is… this is… unbelievable. How?"
"It just sort of happened." That's an understatement, but again, we're operating on a need-to-know basis. "I've decided that I want to have this baby. I'm ready to be a mother."
That last part is more wishful thinking than confidence. Maybe if I repeat it enough times, it'll start being true.
"Wait…" Aunt Annie's enthusiasm dips considerably. She sounds worried now. "Sweetheart, are you doing this alone? Is the father not in the picture?"
It wouldn't be a lie to say that I'm doing this alone. Andrey and I aren't together.
Then again, I have a black card and a pool house with my baby daddy's name written all over it.
"No, the father's in the picture. Sort of."
"So you're having the baby together?"
I bite my lip. "Um—yes?"
"Ah!" Aunt Annie is back to sounding thrilled. "You can't know how relieved I am, sweetheart. Parenthood is hard enough with a partner. I don't want you to have to do it alone."
"Well, no need to worry. I'm not alone."
"Who's the man?" she asks eagerly. "And when do I get to meet him?"
Okay, there might be a small need to worry.
"Soon," I lie. "Very soon."
In typical Aunt Annie fashion, she launches into a barrage of questions without giving me any time to answer. I wait for her to finish before I offer the extremely sanitized version of Andrey's biography.
"Uh, his name is Andrey. He runs a business in the city. Several businesses, actually. And he's… he's good to me."
"Are you two planning on living together or are you waiting until the baby's born?"
I glance over at the pretty pool house that's all mine. "Um, actually, I've moved in with him. He wasn't happy with my apartment. The mold in the ceiling nearly gave him a conniption."
"Goodness me, I like him already."
I'm not sure why I'm selling him so hard to Aunt Annie. Maybe it's because, for a little while at least, I kind of want to live the fantasy.
I want it to be this easy. Like I'm just a girl having a baby with a boy who loves and dotes on me.
Forget about the girl's PTSD and shitty job. Forget that the boy is a terrifying Russian pakhan who collects toxic red flags like they're Pokémon. Forget that the baby is routinely referred to as "the heir."
Forget all that, and this really is a fairy tale in the making.
"Oh, honey, I'm so happy for you. Sometimes, the best things in life are unplanned." Her voice has turned teary. "I'm gonna be a grandma!"
"I… I wish Mom and Dad could have met their grandchild." It's hard to get the words out past the sudden lump in my throat.
"Me, too, sweetheart," she croons. "Me, too."
We talk for a little while longer before I hang up, a bittersweet feeling tucked between my ribs. The weight of telling Aunt Annie is gone, but it's been replaced with something else.
Fear of the unknown.
Worry about the future.
Trepidation about my co-parenting situation with Andrey.
Take your pick—no matter what you call it, it doesn't feel good.
I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't notice a woman approaching until she's standing right over me. "Jesus!" I gasp, hand on my chest.
The woman smiles sweetly. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."
"Have we met before?" The moment I ask the question, I'm hit with an image of her in a modest white gown swathed in lace. "Oh my…"
"If I recall correctly," says Mila Obnizov with a wry, amused laugh, "you crashed my wedding."
"I'm—We—You—I never slept with your husband," I finish in an idiotic stupor. "Just so you know. Like, for the record. That was—It was—It's just a long story, okay? But I never slept with him. I swear."
If she wasn't laughing, I'd probably pee myself in fear.
She sits down beside me and spreads out, perfectly at ease. "Well, that makes you one of the few women who hasn't."
Her face is tilted towards the sun so I'm not sure how to interpret that statement. Is she joking?
She peeks over at me with one eye. "But your friend—the blonde—she has slept with him?"
"He dumped her to marry you," I admit awkwardly. "The interruption was her idea of revenge. You know, now that I'm saying it out loud, I guess the story's not really that long, after all."
To my surprise, she just shrugs. "I get it."
"… Do you?"
She shrugs. "I wouldn't have gone about revenge that way. But I understand the need for it. Viktor drags it out of people."
None of this is what I was expecting. Mila might look like a porcelain ballerina, but I'm getting the feeling she's got claws under that pretty little facade.
"I'm guessing marriage is not all you hoped it would be?" I venture cautiously.
She leans back on the grass, balancing on her elbows. "My expectations of marriage were always pretty low," she explains in a matter-of-fact kind of way. "It wasn't something I ever really wanted."
"Why would you agree to marry Viktor, then?"
"It's a long story." She winks to let me know she's messing with me. "It involves a stubborn old man, a stubborn, evil old man, and a girl who wasn't willing to put up with either one."
"I'm hooked. But promise me there's a happy ending?"
"That remains to be seen." She looks me right in the eyes. "I believe in making my own luck, Natalia. You can't just let life happen to you."
I observe her with fascination as she turns her face back towards the sun. "I wish I'd met you sooner," I say. "That advice would've come in handy. I've spent pretty much my entire existence letting life happen to me."
She squints at me, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, then, I guess we have to change that, don't we?"