Chapter 13

Yaroslav

“G ran!” Kim exclaims, her face lighting up as we enter the hospital room where her grandmother sits, propped up in bed, dressed and ready to leave

“Well hi there Kimmy, where have you been?” her grandmother replies in a musical accent, it’s not southern, my ear has gotten quite good at picking up that. I’m thinking it might be Caribbean, though which island I don’t know. The old woman’s face splits into a wide smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry Grammy, did you miss me?” Kim deflects, sitting down on the chair by the bedside.

I feel as though I’m intruding on a private moment, watching the natural ease and clear love that they share for each other. I stand, hovering awkwardly in the doorway as they chatter away.

“Now, who’s this fine gentleman accompanying you, sweetheart? It’s rude not to introduce people,” her grandmother chides gently before looking pointedly at me.

Kim looks adorably embarrassed. “Oh, sorry Gran, this is my friend, Yaroslav Volkov.”

Kim gestures for me to enter and I walk in, extending a hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Walsh.”

She shakes my hand with a surprisingly firm grip. I can imagine in her day Emma Walsh was quite a formidable woman. “Such a gentleman. Yaroslav, an interesting name, and do I detect a Russian accent?”

“Yes, I moved here seven years ago,” I respond with a nod.

“ Rad vstreche ,” she replies with a smile that reaches her eyes.

Taken aback, I reply, “You speak Russian?”

“A little,” she concedes modestly, the warm smile still on her face.

“Gran’s just being modest, she speaks several languages and was a professor of Law in Charleston for thirty years,” Kim chips in, looking proudly at her grandmother.

“Hush child, he doesn’t want to know about all that. Besides, it was a long time ago,” her eyes grow wistful, and I suspect she’s reminiscing on her past.

Kim has explained how her grandmother suffers from Alzheimer’s. though right now, you wouldn’t know from speaking with her.

“Actually, I’d love to know more about you, Ms. Walsh, from what Kimberly has told me, you’re quite the woman, and an incredible parent, I might add.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere young man,” she chuckles before adding, “Quite the charmer, aren’t you? I can see why my Kimmy is so taken with you,” with a twinkle in her eye.

Kim looks decidedly uncomfortable, something that makes her look adorable. Emma and I continue to chat, and I find that I genuinely enjoy her company. Kim gently explains to her that she’s going to be moved to a private nursing home today and she dismissively waves her hand.

“Nonsense, I can go home, there’s no need to spend your hard-earned cash on that Kimmy.”

“You need time to rest Grammy. And don’t worry about money, it’s all been taken care of,” Kim says, not meeting my eye.

But clearly, nothing gets past Emma Walsh on a good day. She looks at me knowingly, “I assume you’re our benevolent benefactor?”

I look at Kim, reluctant to respond if she doesn’t want her grandmother to know. She smiles at me gratefully before answering.

“Yes, Yaroslav is helping us out Grammy.”

Emma’s eyes narrow suspiciously at me and she fixes me with a stern look. “Now, Mr. Volkov, I hope you are an honorable man and will treat my Kimmy as the lady she is.”

“Of course, Ms. Walsh, I have the utmost respect for your granddaughter.”

She sizes me up. Seemingly satisfied, she nods. “Good, make sure you don’t hurt her, Mr. Volkov, else you’ll have me to answer to,” she warns.

I realize I like Ms. Walsh a lot. “Understood,” I reply, trying to hide my smile.

At that moment, a young woman walks in. She’s rather plain-looking, with a long, pale face and thin lips.

“Kimmy! What are you doing here?” she cries.

“Amelia! How are you? I could say the same!” Kim responds gleefully, moving over to embrace the woman.

“Well, since you went AWOL, someone had to spend time with Emma,” Amelia responds. If Kim notices the clear dig, she doesn’t let on. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” she demands.

“I told you, it broke. I’ve been busy so I haven’t got round to replacing it yet and I gave Gran her phone back so I could call her,” Kim explains. I make a mental note to buy her a replacement phone. I don’t like the idea that I won’t be able to get in touch with her when I’m not with her.

Amelia looks over at me with curiosity in her eyes, she smiles hungrily at me, “Busy… yes I can see that, who are you?” she asks seductively, preening and tossing her fake blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Oh, sorry, yes this is my friend Yaroslav,” Kim interjects.

“Nice to meet you,” I say politely, extending my hand to shake hers.

She holds onto mine a little too long, coming a little too close to me. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” she replies flirtatiously.

Kimberly purses her lips, a small frown on her face. I realize that she’s jealous, something I find myself enjoying.

“Let’s go grab a coffee, shall we Amelia?” Kim suggests, her tone brokering no argument.

“Sure, can I get you anything Yaroslav? Anything at all?” she asks flirtatiously.

“No, thank you,” I reply.

I’m used to women acting like this around me, perhaps that’s why I felt drawn to Kim in the first place since she hasn’t been like that. I can’t help but find myself judging Amelia slightly for it though. While Kim and I aren’t anything, it’s clear I’m here with her, and therefore more than a little disrespectful to more or less throw herself at me in front of her.

“Oh my god Kimmy, you didn’t tell me he was such a hottie!” I hear Amelia cry as they leave the room.

I can’t hear the rest of their conversation as evidently, Kim hurries her friend away. Emma sighs indulgently and tuts, shaking her head. “That girl… I swear Mr. Volkov, the youth of today have no idea how lucky they are that the only worries they have are boy troubles.”

I chuckle lightly, “That’s true. Though I think Kimberly has her head screwed on more than that.”

She nods approvingly, “You’re right there, son. I shouldn’t be too hard on Amelia, she’s been a good friend to Kimmy. Those girls used to be inseparable before Amelia moved away.”

Emma and I continue to chat amicably. Before long, Kim and her friend return and it’s time for Emma to leave. The women bid each other farewell and, much to my discomfort, Amelia hugs me goodbye, pressing her ample bosom against my chest. The only small pleasure I get is watching the expression of jealous annoyance on Kim’s face.

With Amelia gone, we head to the care home with Emma. I’m pleased that both Kim and Emma seem impressed by the place, admiring the well-kept grounds and Emma’s spacious bedroom. Kim seems reluctant to leave, but Emma quickly settles in, striking up a friendship with another resident, which seems to ease Kim’s concerns. After the tour, I can tell that Emma is growing tired, her grip on reality starts to slip and I suggest to Kim that it’s time for us to leave.

“You’re right. Grammy, we have to go now. I’ll be back real soon though, I promise.”

“Now, don’t you go worrying about me, I’ll be just fine. You go enjoy yourself,” she says to Kim. “Take good care of my precious girl now won’t you, Mr. Volkov,” she directs at me.

“I will, it was a pleasure meeting you Ms. Walsh.”

Kim reluctantly leaves, hugging her grandmother once more.

On the drive home, Kim is quiet and subdued. I don’t push her to talk, giving her space to reflect. After a while, she speaks.

“Thank you, for taking me, for well… everything,” she says softly.

“You’re welcome. I liked your grandmother very much, she’s quite the character,” I reply, glancing over at her before focusing my attention back on the road.

She lets out a small chuckle, “That she is. You’re lucky you met her on a good day. She was almost like the woman she used to be before her diagnosis. Lately, the good days are getting few and far between.”

“It must be hard for you, taking care of her alone,” I state, still focused on the road, sensing she will open up more if I’m not looking at her.

“I’m not completely alone. Abigail, our neighbor who’s a retired nurse, helps out a lot. I don’t know what I’d do without her. To start with my brother Noah helped out too, until he left…” Kim replies modestly, downplaying how difficult things must be.

“Was it just the three of you—you, your grandmother, and your brother—growing up?” I ask, curious to know more about her.

“Yes. My parents died in a car accident when I was four, so we moved to Charleston to live with Gran. I never met my grandfather, he died before I was born,” she replies.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say. I know full well how hard it is to lose family.

“Thank you. It’s okay though, I don’t remember much about them at all to be honest. I was too young. It was harder for Noah, he was nine when they died. He acted out a lot…” she explains.

I nod, thoughtfully. “A boy needs his father growing up, or a male role model at least.”

“What’s your family like? Are you close?” she asks curiously.

I normally avoid talking much about my family, but for some reason, I don’t deflect or avoid answering. “For the most part. I already told you about my brother, David. We’re close. I don’t speak to my sister, she got married and moved to England not long after our parents died. Other than that, there’s just my uncle. He still lives in Russia but we’re in contact.”

“I’m sorry about your parents. Was it…?” she trails off, unsure how to ask what she wants to know.

“It wasn’t an accident, or natural, if that’s what you’re wondering. They were murdered,” I reply, I grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning white. I don’t like to think about my parents.

She lets out a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my goodness, that’s terrible. Did they catch who did it?”

I shake my head, “No. We have a pretty good idea who it was, but there wasn’t enough evidence.”

Kim reaches out a hand and rests it on my arm, stroking it comfortingly. I tense, feeling uncomfortable with this sort of tender interaction. I don’t give her time to speak, wanting the conversation to be over.

“It was a long time ago—I was sixteen. I’ve moved on, learned to deal with it, and accept it. Someday the man responsible will get what’s coming to him,” I state coldly.

Kim, evidently picking up that I don’t want to talk further about it, doesn’t ask any more questions. We continue to drive in silence. After a short while, Kim sits up straighter in her seat, looking out of the window.

“We’re not far from my apartment. Do you think we could stop by so I can grab some stuff?” she asks.

I’m tempted to say no, that I can get her anything she needs. A small, irrational side of my brain wants to drive her back to mine and not let her leave, fearing that if she goes home, she won’t come home with me. But curiosity gets the better of me. I want to see where she lives.