27. Bronwyn

27

brONWYN

That evening, Radimir came with me to see Baba. I tried to tell him that he didn’t have to come but…

“She raised you after your parents died?” he’d said.

I’d nodded.

“Then she is like your mother. And she will want to meet the man who’s marrying her daughter.” And he’d given me a look I was getting to know, the one that said his mind wasn’t going to be changed, and I’d sighed and nodded. But I was worried. I had no clue how Baba was going to react to him...or to the news I was getting married.

As we walked in from the parking lot, a guy was coming out. He screwed his eyes closed and inhaled and suddenly Radimir pushed me behind him…just in time to get the guy’s sneeze in his face. “Cover your mouth next time!” he snapped at the guy. The guy scuttled off, terrified. And I stood there blinking in shock. He’s trying to stop me from getting ill.

Outside Baba’s room, I put my hands on his chest to stop him. “Let me go in first,” I insisted. “And let me do the talking.” I took a deep breath...and went in.

Baba was sitting in her chair, like always, looking as if she hadn’t moved since the last time. It broke my heart when I knew what a ball of energy she normally was. “Heyyy,” I said lamely, pulling up a chair. “Um. Listen. Announcement. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

I looked towards the door. Radimir took my cue and walked in but...something was different. He was still as big and intimidating as always but he looked sort of...humble. He dipped his head in deference to Baba, as if she was the most important person in the room. “Mrs. Hanford,” he said in that carved-ice accent.

Baba’s head lifted and I saw her focus on his face. She was fighting the brain fog, and it made my chest go tight.

Radimir sat down beside me. “Radimir is, um.” I swallowed and then swallowed again. “We’re, uh…he’s going to…”

“Mrs. Hanford, I’m going to marry your daughter,” said Radimir. He took my hand and squeezed it, and something swelled in my chest, a bubble that threatened to lift me right out of my seat. I tore the bubble open and crushed the shreds back down. He’s just pretending, I told myself viciously.

Baba gave me a look I hadn’t seen since she caught me and Jen with a bottle of beer, aged seventeen. She managed to raise one eyebrow. What’s going on?!

“It’s okay,” I promised. “Honestly.” The last thing I wanted to do was worry her. I told her the same story I’d told my friends: that he was a Russian property developer, that we’d been seeing each other for a while, but had kept it quiet. But Baba wasn’t stupid. She knew something was wrong.

To my surprise, it was Radimir who managed to reassure her. He was polite, respectful and engaging: he even managed to make her laugh a few times. We stayed for over an hour and by the end, it seemed like Baba at least wasn’t going to call the police, even if she was still suspicious.

As we prepared to leave, I saw him looking around at the cramped, windowless room with its peeling paint and dirty plates. When we closed the door, he tugged his waistcoat straight. “This is unacceptable,” he told me. He looked up and down the empty, echoey hallway. It really was like a prison. “Do the staff even go into her room?”

I shook my head, my stomach twisting. “I know it’s horrible. But she needs constant care and this is the best I can afford.”

He took my hand. “Come. We’re going to look for another facility.”

“But—”

“The best one I can afford.”

I felt my eyes go wide. “ What? I can’t let you do that!”

He turned to me. “She is your family. I will look after her like I would my family.”

I stared at him, tears filling my eyes. I felt like this huge, warm wave was lifting me up: I’d been out on my own, worrying about Baba, for so long, and suddenly it felt like there was someone with me. But there was another feeling, too: as my feet lifted off the ground, I knew I was losing control. If I let him do this, Baba and I would be dependent on him. What if he used it against us?

I stared into those frozen-sky eyes. Then I took a deep breath...and nodded. I couldn’t explain it but, despite what he was, I trusted him.

After a few internet searches, we found a facility that specializes in stroke rehabilitation. I figured that because it was already late, we’d have to visit it tomorrow. I hadn’t realized the lengths places will go to for ultra-rich clients.

We were given a guided tour and shown the spa pools and physiotherapy center, the art, sculpting and games rooms, the gardens… I met the nurses who’d be on Baba’s team and saw the kitchens packed with nutritious, hand-prepared food. “We’ll build a program especially for your grandmother,” the manager told me. “There are also some drug therapies we can try to see if she responds. They do come with some additional costs, though.”

“The cost is not an issue,” Radimir told him. I squeezed his hand in thanks...and that’s when I realized I’d been holding his hand throughout the tour. We’d just sort of done it naturally, and it felt so comforting and right. What does that mean?

Back at the penthouse, I took his hands in mine. “Thank you,” I said with feeling. “Thank you.”

He looked embarrassed. “Your family,” he said simply. “My family.”

It made me think of how he’d reacted to the blanket Baba knitted. Was he being kind to my family because he didn’t have one of his own? “Radimir?” I asked gently. “What happened to your parents? Why did you have to bring your brothers to America on your own?”

He sighed and hung his head. His hands squeezed mine. “ Krasavitsa... ” he said at last, “please, don’t ever ask me that again.”

I felt my chest contract. I could hear the ragged pain in his voice, and I wanted to help. But?—

Three loud bangs on the door, shaking it on its hinges. “ Chicago PD! Open up! ”