MADDY

Raven calls Mac first, and Mac congratulates us and promises, making Rave suck in his cheeks in that vulnerable gesture, to actually come to Zion for our wedding.

Next, I do a video chat with Dad. He is driving in a jeep with his guards somewhere in the jungles of Venezuela. He’s wearing a white fedora and sunglasses—a sight I don’t remember too often in the past. Dad is not a big fan of the tropics, hence my surprise at him spending so much time in Venezuela. But then, money, right?

“Dad, I have some news, so I need you to pull over for a minute.”

He does.

It’s incredible how attentive Dad is to things I say these days. Mind you, there must be an echelon of cars behind him.

He barks something in Spanish to the men off-camera. I never knew Dad spoke a word of Spanish, but he is a man who learns and adapts.

In the little screen that shows Rave and me, I see Sonny peeking from behind, doing a military salute.

“So?” Dad says.

“We have three pieces of news,” I say.

“You coming to Venezuela?” he guesses cooly.

“No. It’s better. We are getting married.”

“Right.” He nods without much surprise.

My mood falls slightly. “You might not be excited, but it’s happening.”

“I am excited. But I already know. Congratulations.” His chin lifts a little bit in pride.

I look at Raven. He shrugs. “I didn’t tell him.”

“He did not tell me,” Dad confirms, then says in Russian to his bodyguard. “ Zaniat. Ya skazal kanvoi astanavili i zhdiom, yasna? Dochka na sviazi, paetamu vse zatihli. ”

I smile. Dad just told his men to stop the convoy and be quiet because he’s talking to his daughter. Such things make me swell with pride again.

He turns to the screen. “Sorry. A little birdie told me Raven was buying a ring. I figured it would only be a matter of time you told me.”

“A little birdie?” Dad has a freaking parrot jungle, then.

“I’m coming to the island,” he says importantly. “Tell me when.”

“I will. Two, we are adopting Sonny,” I say.

“Great. That kid needs some manners and a home. Everything is okay?”

Sonny makes bunny ears with his two fingers behind Raven’s head and giggles.

“Yeah. Great, actually.”

A guard dressed in a Bolivarian uniform approaches Dad with paperwork. Dad signs it, passes it back, and turns his attention to me. He’s always multitasking. “You all look happy. That is good. What is number three?”

“What number three?” I play dumb.

Raven smiles, taking my hand in both of his.

Dad takes off his aviator glasses and leans into the camera. “Does she mess with you like this, too?” he asks Raven with a slightly annoyed roll of his eyes.

Raven looks at me. “Maybe we won’t tell him,” he teases.

I smile. “No?”

Raven shakes his head. “He is busy. Maybe some other time.”

“Yeah. Next time we talk,” I play along as we look at each other but not at the screen.

“Okay, you two, what is going on? I am pressed for time. What is number three, and what is with all this circus? You do not tell me, I fly to Zion tomorrow.”

“Spare the old man,” Raven says.

Dad’s head snaps at the screen. “Be careful with your words, young man,” he warns, though I know it’s all games because Dad really likes Raven. “Next time I see you, we might want to have a go at the octagon. So I can show you what an old Russian man can do.”

“Not happening,” I snap. “Though he is good,” I murmur to Raven.

Dad is forty-five, but he is in great shape, all six feet of muscles.

Raven smiles to himself. “Considering you will legally have a nine-year old grandson, you are old,” he says.

Dad waves him off.

I grin. “Considering, you are going to be a grandfather again in about seven months, you’d better stay in shape.”

At first, I think the Wi-Fi glitches because my father stares at the camera unblinkingly, his aviators frozen in his hand. He doesn’t move, and his eyes are like those big scary iguanas.

“Dad?” I ask and lean closer. “Did the Wi-Fi cut off or something?” I murmur.

“Oh, he heard you,” Rave says, still smiling at the camera.

My father’s lips move. “Say that again?”

“Like I said, he heard you,” Rave murmurs.

“I’m pregnant,” I say. “Soooo, yeah, you will be a grandfather.”

And that’s the news that, to my dad, beats anything else. It probably beats his success with his oil venture in Venezuela.

He starts nodding and tonguing his cheek, his eyes everywhere but the camera. He fixes his fedora and puts his sunglasses on. I know that he is trying really hard not to smile. In fact, I know he will throw a huge celebration tonight. But he won’t show me how happy he is. Because that’s Dad. That’s great news to any dad. To him? That’s legacy.

“Good,” he finally says. “Great news. Congrats to you two. Two grandsons. Good. Good.”

I squeeze Raven’s hand, because I know he is about to say that we don’t know the baby’s gender yet. But Dad already made up his mind.

“When am I flying in?” he asks.

Raven and I both erupt in laughter.

In a minute, the conversation is over.

Rave’s phone dings with a new message. He rolls his eyes as he reads it, then shows it to me.

It’s a text from my dad.

Aleksei Tsariuk: About damn time. Good job.

At dinner, we talk about my dad, and Raven imitates his sharp Eastern European accent. And he calls him “your old man.”

“He is not too old,” Sonny says.

“It’s an expression,” Raven explains. “That’s what some people call their father.”

Sonny gives him a thoughtful stare then blurts, “So, I call you my old man?”

Rave freezes for a second. Sonny shifts his hesitant gaze at me. And I burst out laughing, and then Sonny joins, and Raven points his fork at him. “No.”

Raven turns to me and winks, and I can’t look away.

He looks like a devil but has the smile of a saint. He calls it a “Maddy smile.” He says he only smiles like this for me, but that’s not true. He smiles like that for Sonny and many others. He smiles a lot lately.

It’s astonishing that a man scarred on the inside as well as the outside has so much love to give.

He is like no one else I’ve ever met. Sad eyes. Wild heart. Strong arms and the softest touch. He is what God created when he wanted to make a villain, gave him a tormented past, sent him through hell, fire and bullets, and then—with a flicker of a smile—gave him a tender heart, hiding it behind all that angst and vicious punches. We humans are test subjects in the hands of the universe.

Raven’s heart is a closed bud that is finally blooming into a beautiful flower.

How can you not be in love with someone like that?