Chapter Seven

Kaleb

S kating with Jasha meant a lot to Kaleb. It brought back memories of skating here every Christmas as a child. The family traveled to Lake Tahoe from North Haven, New York. They walked back to the house, each carrying their skates in one hand.

Kaleb pointed to a pair of slippers, shiny and untouched, sitting next to his own as they removed their jackets and shoes.

“Did you buy them for me?” Jasha asked. “Thank you. I’ve never worn slippers before.”

Knowing Jasha appreciated a gift as simple as a pair of warm soft slippers felt soothing. He wanted to make sure Jasha didn’t feel like an outsider.

Kaleb nodded. “Always wear your slippers inside,” he said as he put his on his own while Jasha slipped into his.

“How come?”

“I don’t allow wearing shoes inside my home. Follow me. We’re going to go to my upstairs living room.” He led Jasha upstairs to his private suite overlooking the lake. They sat side by side in plush armchairs facing the breathtaking scenery. “I’m glad you had fun skating. We can skate anytime you want.”

“Why are you spending time with me? Don’t you have a life?”

“I like you, Jasha.”

“How do you like me?”

“I told you I’ve been watching you at the clubs. I’d like to be your Daddy Kaleb some day when you trust me.”

“How can I trust you? You had a gun to my father’s head. How will time erase that?”

“Your father’s situation was strictly business.” Kaleb knew his explanation wouldn’t satisfy Jasha’s questions. It was a lame ass excuse. Gaining his trust was no simple task; he had his work cut out for him. He would do all he could until Jasha’s uncertainty evaporated, and Kaleb earned his trust with a good energy between them. His ambitious goal was to earn Jasha’s love and become his Daddy Kaleb within a month.

“My father is my business, Mr. Bronson. My father. My life. All gone, thanks to you.”

“Did I force you to leave with me?”

“Indirectly you did. It was either you’d blow my father’s brains out in front of me, or I go with you.”

“Do you understand your father owes me a lot of money? He hasn’t paid one cent of it back in two years.”

“Does that give you the right to take me from him?”

“It was a business transaction. A deal. You could have said no. Tell me why you left with me.”

“I told you why.”

Kaleb decided to change direction. He pulled out a lollipop and handed it to Jasha. “Suck on this.”

“Is that what you really want from me?” After unraveling the paper, he stuffed it into his mouth.

“What are you thinking about now?” Kaleb asked, grinning at him mischievously.

“Something other than this lollipop.” Jasha’s face flushed a bright shade of red.

“Maybe someday you’ll get to suck something other than what’s in your mouth right now.”

With a laugh, Jasha made a satisfying sucking sound, playfully taunting Kaleb.

“I want you here with me and not just because of your father. I’d like to get to know you. See if we can connect on other levels than the one we’re on now.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I hope you’ll someday call me Daddy Kaleb.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever consent to that with you.”

“Your words disappoint me. But I don’t give up easily.”

Daisy spotted them and wasted no time in making herself comfortable, curling up on Kaleb’s lap. “At least she likes me.”

“Thank you for granting Daisy her freedom in your home.”

“I love cats. Your Daisy is very sweet. I’m glad she’s here.” Kaleb gently stroked the cat’s fur, feeling its softness beneath his fingertips, until she purred contentedly. “We’ll have some visitors soon. Arlo and Frankie. Arlo is my cousin. Not only are we best friends, but we’re also business partners. I trust him with my life. He lives in Jamaica Estates near St. John’s University, but he has other homes like me. He’s a daddy to his boy, Frankie, who’s a little. Do you know what that means?”

“Yes. I think I’m a little too. That’s what Daddy Sergei told me. He explained it to me.”

“What did your last daddy do to make you both think you’re a little?”

“All I know is I wanna be treated like the sweet little angel that I am. He even called me his angel.”

“He gave you a pet name. That’s adorable. Tell me some things he did with you.”

“He read fairy tales to me at night before we went to bed. He bought me toy cars and trucks, and lots of stuffies. I had a playroom at his home. At night, he’d give me a bubble bath and, well, you know. Then on the weekends we played dress-up. I’d wear cute little boy outfits.”

“Did you live with him?”

“No. I only went to his house on the weekends. Sometimes, he’d take me to the zoo.”

“What was in your playroom?”

“There was a little reading area with cuddly bear chairs. It looked like a big stuffed bear chair. In that area, there was a bookshelf filled with fairy tale books.”

“What else was in there?”

“I had a super cool bed to nap in. It was a big, friendly bear! The bed was a bright yellow and shaped like a bear, with a smiling face, big ears, and paws at each corner. It looked really cozy and fun, almost like a giant toy you could sleep in. The bedding had tiny bears on it.”

“What else was in there?”

“There were lots of toys, colorful tables and chairs to work on art projects and sometimes, we put together a jigsaw puzzle on the table. I made ceramic things too. There was a kiln in there.”

“Do you miss him?”

“I do, but he had to return to Russia, and he’s not coming back. He was called to join the military. He’s not a citizen here.”

“I see. I forgot to mention Frankie goes to NYU like you. He’s studying Engineering. Arlo is thirty-five and Frankie is twenty-two. We always spend the holidays together.”

“That’s great. We don’t have any relatives here. They’re all in Russia.”

“Do you know why your father left Russia?”

“I was eleven and my father told me we had to leave the country. He never explained why. It was because my mother died.”

“I’m sorry you lost your mother at such a young age. Was she sick?”

“No. She was gunned down and died two days later.”

“No wonder he left. Do you know why she was gunned down?”

“My father refused to discuss it with me.”

“Was it hard to change schools?”

“Yes, it was. The language wasn’t the issue. I knew the language, but it was a cultural shock. My Russian name didn’t help me. Kids called me a Commie. Then we moved to Brighton Beach. Things got better. I met friends from Russia living there.”

Mr. Wells entered the room. “Arlo and Frankie will be here within twenty minutes, sir.”

“Thank you.”

As Mr. Wells walked out the door, his footsteps echoed down the hallway, gradually fading away.

“Let’s change into something else.” Kaleb had a starting point now that Jasha shared information about his life with his last daddy. He would love to see his little side show up unexpectedly.

“Do we wear slippers when they come too?”

“Yes. They’ll also wear slippers.”

“But Mr. Wells and Miss Nadia wear shoes.”

“They wear their uniform shoes which never go outside, like slippers.”