Chapter 16
The Elite Club was filled to the brim with guests arriving from overseas. The rooms were booked, but being Ivanov Petrov, they managed to get two suites for the night. The bachelor party was being held there, and they would fly out to the farmhouse in the morning in time for the wedding. Anastasia and her three-year-old son were already at the farmhouse.
The three men were together for the first time in several months and it felt good. Also, for the first time, there was no tension between Dimitri and his father. The man had actually greeted him with a firm clasp on the shoulder, something he had never done before. And they were having a conversation.
"Angela would have been proud of you."
Dimitri exchanged glances with his brother as their father gestured for yet another shot of whiskey. They were having a private moment in their suite. The party had broken up around midnight, leaving the three men to themselves.
"She would have been so happy." He shook his head. "You followed me, my footsteps. You followed my example and got yourself an American bride." He stared at his son out of bleary eyes. "Beautiful girl and pregnant too. You'll have a son of course."
"It doesn't matter—"
"You'll have a son." He pointed his glass at Dimitri. "The Petrov men always produce sons." He took another gulp of the whiskey. "Your mother, bless her soul, wanted a daughter. But alas, it was not to be. But she loved you." He looked at his sons and smiled. "You especially." He gazed at Dimitri. "Now you're going to be living in this country. American." He made a derisive movement with his hand. "I want to see my grandchild on a regular basis. You will have the jet at your disposal."
"And you're welcome any time." Dimitri glanced at his brother, his gaze uncertain. He had never seen his father like this before. The man was always in control.
"Papa, how about we ring for some coffee?" Alexei spoke for the first time since the conversation started and received a gimlet stare.
"Are you implying I cannot hold my, how do you say? Hold my alcohol?"
Taking matters into his own hands, Dimitri picked up the phone. "It's almost my wedding day and I have no intention of us arriving looking like drunken fools."
His father smiled at that. "You're right of course. Coffee it is. Tomorrow is a big day." Rising, he ambled over and clasped Dimitri on the shoulder. "You've done very well son. Very well."
*****
It rained three days before the wedding as if to wash away the last vestiges of snow. They wondered if they had to pitch tents for the guests. But by the time they rose the next morning, the sun was up and there were birds chirping in the trees. The place was washed with a brilliance that was dazzling. Elizabeth's famous gardens were highlighted in the brilliance of the sun. Water was dripping off petals that looked as if they had been given a thorough bath.
The caterers were already installed in the kitchen whipping up delicacies that would be served for the guests later on. The pergola was decorated with blue and green streamers and interspersed with champagne-colored balloons. The hostess was in her element and up since dawn, flitting from indoors to outdoors to make sure everything was in place. The entire farm hands had been invited to the reception.
The ceremony was private with a few people invited. But the reception was open to everyone. They were expecting over three hundred guests. The McKenzies were not stinting on expenses. Their grandson, the heir to the property was getting married. More than that, their other grandson, granddaughter and great-grandson, one they had not seen in two years were all here. It was cause for celebration.
Everything had to be perfect.
Preparations were underway with a sense of joyful urgency. Florists arrived early, weaving fresh garlands along the fence and entryway, while tables were set beneath wide, white canopies. Friends and family trickled in throughout the morning, their laughter blending with the sounds of music playing softly nearby. Excitement buzzed in the air as everyone anticipated the coming celebration, hoping for memories that would last a lifetime.
Upstairs, the women, her grandmother who had arrived a week ago was staying at the cottage but had spent the night at the farmhouse along with the others, were all gathered in the bridal suite. Jessica, taking her role as matron of honor, flitted around the bride while the others stared in amazement at the vision in champagne colored silk and lace.
Allison had insisted on choosing her own wedding dress and had hunkered down with Monique Romano until they had come up with a breathtaking ensemble. The dress clung to her narrow torso, calling attention to her full bosom and diving downwards into a vee that stopped short of her waist. Jewels glittered at both sides of the bodice and were echoed at the front of her hair. The skirt drifted and swirled from waist to ankles. Later on, after the ceremony, the gauzy piece attached would be removed.
Her hair had taken an hour to style. The thick coils had been shampooed yesterday and deep conditioned. And was now twisted at the front into an intricate pattern and was flowing halfway down her back. The official photographer snapped pictures at every turn and was starting to annoy Allison.
"Enough."
"Your groom insists on memorializing every moment." The woman told her calmly. "He's the one paying me."
Giving her a dirty look, she moved from the mirror and turned to face the rest of the women. She and Anastasia had hit it off immediately and had become fast friends. All the women in her family were wearing either blue or green and looked stunning.
"Something borrowed." Elizabeth crossed over and pinned a delicate sapphire brooch on her left breast. "And something blue."
"Here's my something new." Irene Trent took her place and slipped a thin gold necklace over her head. "Picked it up in Italy." Taking a deep breath, she kissed her granddaughter's cheek. "You've made me a very happy woman."
"Thanks grandma." Allison clung a moment before stepping back. "I'm ready."
*****
He did not notice the extravagant setting, the flower bedecked pergola he was standing beneath. Nor the red carpet that stretched all the way from the front of the farmhouse to where he and his brother were standing. All he could think of was his bride on her way to meet him. He had not seen her since yesterday morning when he left for the club and was going through anxious moments waiting for her.
His nephew was standing next to his brother, holding his hand. All four Petrov males were dressed identically in midnight black with unrelieved white shirts starched to perfection.
His shoulders straightened as the music changed, announcing the arrival of the bride. His first glimpse of the woman who had taken over his life had the breath strangling inside his chest and for a second he could not breathe.
"My God." Alexei murmured. "She cannot possibly be real."
He was thinking the same thing himself. Without thinking about it, he left his place and went to intercept her as she walked in on his grandfather's arm. Taking her gloved hand, he lifted it to his lips, eyes meeting hers. And murmured something in Russian.
"What does that mean?"
"You're my life, my heart, my all." He translated simply.
"As you're mine." She told him huskily. "Let's get hitched."
Cameras flashed and captured the moment when the groom threw back his head and laughed at something the bride said. Tucking her hand through his arm, he led her towards the makeshift altar where the priest was waiting to perform the ceremony.
*****
The ceremony had been solemn and dignified with the bride and groom repeating their vows in front of friends and family. The reception was a whole lot different. The grounds were crowded, and the food was plentiful. A live band had been hired and was playing songs that had the guests gyrating. It was an odd mixture of the elitists and the hands that worked the farm. And all of them seemed to be getting along.
Laughter and conversation flowed as freely as the champagne and hard liquor. Two persons manned the makeshift bar, and the caterers were busy transporting food to the guests. There was a combination of Russian and American cuisine. The traditional Russian chocolate cake with over a dozen white and purple orchids and the towering champagne and pink strawberry cake next to it graced the table that had been specially set up for the occasion.
The food was rich and sumptuous and completely wasted on Allison. After a few samplings of the roasted duck and pineapple chicken, she felt the nausea coming on. Her new husband, completely attuned to her moods, requested plain soup for her to consume. The speech was made, something short and sweet, with the groom thanking their guests and declaring that this was the most important day of his life.
"I came here to find myself, to try and get over the death of my beloved mother." He slid an amused glance at the woman seated next to him. "I found the love of my life. A woman who has changed me for the better. One who is the beginning and ending for me." Taking her hand in his, he drew her to her feet. "To my wife, Allison Deidre Petrov."
*****
They ended up spending a month in Moscow, instead of three weeks and he was determined to show her his favorite haunts. Her first sight of the manor had her staring in stunned amazement. She later told her husband that it reminded her of an ice castle, with its angles and dazzlingly white structure.
He took her to the iconic Red Square, home to St. Basil's Cathedral, the Moscow Kremlin and the GUM department store. They explored the State Tretyakov Gallery for Russian art, the Bolshoi Theatre, the beautiful Moscow Metro and the historic Novodevichy Convent. Spring in Russia was a wonder to the senses. The city was bursting with blooming flowers, especially apple and lilac trees.
They went strolling through the parks and also visited the zoo. While her husband sat in meetings with his father and brother, Allison, Anastasia, and Aleksandr explored the various places along with their assigned guards.
"Does it bother you?" They had stopped at an outdoor café where they were seated at a corner table overlooking the busy street.
"You mean the guards?" Lifting a hand, she caught the attention of a server immediately.
"I recommend the Borscht and Salad Olivier." She told Allison. "Is that what you would like? I'm thinking of your stomach."
"As you well should be doing." She agreed with a nod.
Turning to the man, Anastasia made the order and included Pierogi for her son who was glued to his tablet.
"You were asking about the guards." She flicked a glance to the men who had ordered their own meals. "I've gotten, how do you say? Resigned to it." She smiled serenely as she sipped her water. "Being married to a Petrov, you pay the price of lack of privacy. As you will now discover."
Allison shook her head in denial. "We do things differently in the states. Yes, people will want to photograph us." She grimaced at the very idea of it. "But we don't walk around with guards trailing behind us." She looked around the busy street in contemplation. "But I suppose in Russia, it's a whole lot different."
"Would you live in this country?" With the innate instinct of a mother, Anastasia rescued the utensils from her son's eager hand and put them away.
"I love the place. At first when Dimitri suggested we come here for our honeymoon, I was petrified." She smiled her thanks as their food was brought out to them. "You hear stories of what happens in Russia, the kidnappings, the imprisonments and we're not exactly on friendly terms with this country."
"And yet, you're married to a Russian."
Allison smiled as she spooned up her soup. "If anyone had told me I would fall in love and marry a Russian, I would have thought they were high on drugs." She clarified when the other woman looked confused. "But here I am. And yes, I will live here if he asks." She grimaced. "That's what love does to you. It turns you around. But my husband is settled at the farm, which is a good thing." She continued drinking her soup. "And I have a family here now." She reached out to tousle the child's dark hair and gained a wide smile. "So, we will be visiting frequently."
Anastasia touched her hand briefly. "I never had a sister, now I have one."
Allison's eyes moistened. "Same here."
*****
"Twins." Even now the very mention of the word paralyzed her. The doctor, the very best in her field had come, did her examination, and confirmed the suspicion she had and left after assuring them that she and her team would be monitoring Allison very closely.
"It will be fine. We—" He stopped abruptly at the killing look she threw at him. She was almost four months pregnant and should have realized she was carrying more than one baby at the rate her tummy was growing. Not to mention the fact that her ankles were swollen and she was being a bitch to everyone, especially her husband. Double the damn hormones.
"There's no we." Pushing herself up from the comfortable chair, she ignored the two elderly people inside the cozy flower filled gazebo and started pacing. It was an incredibly lovely summer afternoon with birds chirping and the scent of freshly cut grass vying with the smell of flowers blooming.
After the doctor had left, she had wanted to get out of the house and get some air. Of course, Elizabeth and Alvin had joined them. And her grandmother was on the speaker phone.
"It's just me." She turned around and went to take her seat. "I'm almost forty-one. I expected just one baby, now two?" She looked at the three people standing there. "How am I having twins?"
"Dimitri's mother was part of a twin." Elizabeth told her quietly, smiling when he turned to look at her in surprise. "It's not something we like to talk about. He died at birth."
"I'm so sorry." He murmured, crossing to give her a hug.
"And your dear grandfather was also part of a twin. He died of pneumonia when he was only ten years old."
"Great." Throwing up her hands, Allison glared at the phone. "Thanks for all this information."
"Darling—"
"No. I'm not in a good place right now, so that's not going to work."
Ignoring that, he came and hunkered down in front of her. "Look at me." He commanded gently. When she did, he took her hands in his. "I'm here. I cannot bear the children for you, but I will do everything else. I will be by your side every step of the way. Any hour of the night, if you have the need to drink tea, I'm at your service. If you crave something ridiculous like prunes or pickles, I will get it for you. If your back aches and I'm in the dead of sleep, just call me and I will attend to you. Anything, everything, I'm yours."
Her eyes flooded, and she realized how patient he had been with her mood swings. "I'm scared." She acknowledged huskily.
"My indomitable wife afraid?" he scoffed, a smile teasing his lips. "We'll get through it." Lifting her hands, he brushed his lips against her knuckles. "I'm all yours."
Tightening her fingers on his, she sniffed back the tears. "You'd better be."
*****
Their children came into the world on a sweltering day in the middle of October, one day after Dimitri's birthday. His family had flown in for the birth as well as her grandmother. The pregnancy had been surprisingly easy. Their son, Adrian Ivan, named for both grandfathers, was the first to arrive, squalling furiously as if he objected to being ejected from his comfortable home inside his mother's womb and weighed in at seven pounds flat.
His sister, Anya Angela Donna, was five minutes behind him and had a temperament that was quite the opposite of her brother. She cried quietly for a few seconds and stopped, staring at the people crowding around her with a patience that reminded her mother of Dimitri.
"They both look annoyingly like you." She told her husband in disgust. "I carried them around for almost eight months and they end up favoring you."
"At least, our son has your impatient manner." He reminded her. He could not get enough of the babies and had stopped the nurse from taking them away when they were fed and dressed. He was a father. Something he never thought would happen to him.
"That's absolutely no consolation."
"Does it console you to hear that I'm head over heels in love with you?" Their babies had been taken to the nursery where his family and hers were delighting themselves by watching over them. And he was finally alone with his wife. "And that there's nothing I can ever present you with, can ever be enough?" He had climbed into bed with her, and they were discreetly left alone. Brushing back tendrils of hair from her face, he cupped her chin. "I will of course be spending the rest of my life appreciating you for what you've given me."
"I would expect nothing less." She lifted a hand to touch his cheek. He had been true to his word. The promise to be there for her every step of the way had not been an idle one. He endured her varying moods. When she got bigger and was unable to find a comfortable place to sleep, he had been up with her, holding her until she fell asleep. He took care of her. Even when he had to be out on the farm, he would check in. She could not have asked for a better mate. And she was careful to never take it for granted.
*****
Those first few weeks were a blur of sleepless nights, quiet lullabies, and the constant shuffle of visitors bringing well-wishes and casseroles. Despite the exhaustion, there was a profound sense of rightness in their little family, moments when the world shrank to just the two of them and their babies, cocooned from everything outside. Every worry she'd harbored before the twins' arrival seemed less daunting now, softened by Dimitri's unwavering presence and the tiny hands that gripped her fingers with surprising strength.
There was no need to persuade her to take a leave of absence from work, she had arrived at that conclusion on her own. She wanted to be there for her babies for as long as possible. Dimitri was hinting at her giving up her job, but she was still contemplating. Right now, she was concentrating on the children and her husband.
Alvin and Elizabeth were enjoying the role of great grandparents and insisted on playing their roles. Ivanov called every other day to check in. As well as Alexei and Anastasia. They were planning on flying back to the states in December.
At one time, she had only her grandmother as family and her best friend Jessica, Allison marveled. Now, it was almost surreal to look around and realize how much her world had expanded. The warmth of a bustling household, the laughter echoing in the rooms, and the steady flow of support from both families gave her a sense of belonging she had never truly known before. In those quiet midnight hours, rocking her newborns, she often reflected on the journey that had brought her here and found herself grateful beyond words for this unlikely, beautiful abundance of love.
"Hi." She looked up as her husband stepped into the nursery. "Adrian is finally asleep. Two weeks old and already trying to get his own way." She settled back against her husband's broad chest as he came up behind her.
"Has it been two weeks already?"
"Hmm." Her hands gripped his arms as she swung her gaze to her daughter. "Anya has been asleep for an hour, but your son was constantly fighting sleep. He finally went under a few minutes ago."
"They're the most beautiful babies in the world."
"Of course they are." She turned in his arms and linked her hands around his neck. "Have I told you how much I love you?"
"Not since this morning." He kissed her lightly. "But a man needs to hear it more than once."
"I agree." Her expression turned luminous. "I adore you, my husband."
"My wife, my heart, my everything." He whispered. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her from the nursery into their bedroom to show her how much she meant to him.
The end…