Preston
"Did you want this shirt?" Mom asks, lifting one of Dad's oversized Hawaiian shirts. It's so bright I don't even have to strain to see it.
"Not at all," I say with a hapless smile. I may love vintage, but that thing is… "It's hideous."
Mom lets out a small giggle. "Oh, thank gosh you said that."
It's been eight days since the funeral, and when I asked Mom what she wanted to do today, she said she was ready to start clearing out some of Dad's stuff. So she and I are currently sitting on the carpeted floor in their bedroom, doing just that.
I initially thought that maybe I'd want to take a few pieces, to have him with me, but now, as we're sorting through it all, I feel funny about wearing any of his stuff. Not just because our fashion tastes aren't the same, but, like, wouldn't it be weird to be wearing my dead father's shorts?
He did have a cool, vintage wallet, so I'll take that so I have something.
"Looks like it's all going to Goodwill then," I say, stuffing a large garbage bag with some of his old winter coats.
"I think that's best," Mom agrees, folding a pile of pants into neat halves.
We continue sorting and packing in silence.
My thoughts turn to returning to Reno. I spoke with Ellie last night.
Marek took him to see some condos that a developer friend of his has available.
He sent through the photos of one of the places he found, and it looks amazing.
Eighth-floor corner unit in a secure building, heated indoor pool, spa and gym, city and Sierra Nevada views, walking distance to the casino and Truckee River.
I texted back saying I loved it, but that it would be way out of our price range.
Ellie's response? Marek's developer friend insists our rent is the same as what we paid on that depressing excuse of a house we used to live in.
I don't know what sort of magic Ellie is working on Marek, but whatever he's doing, he needs to keep it up.
Despite being relatively cheap, we were paying too much for what we were getting at the old place.
But this new one at the same price? We're basically robbing Marek's developer friend.
Of course, my initial response to Ellie was that I didn't want any more charity from the Piotrowskis.
Ellie called my bluff and said that was fine, that he respected my decision, and he was happy to have the place all to himself.
I shot that notion down quick smart and said I'd be willing to compromise my integrity for an indoor pool and spa.
The place is vacant now, so we can move in whenever suits us. All that's left to deal with is figuring out the right time to leave Mom.
"Have you thought about what you’re going to do?" I ask her.
She stops folding and turns to me.
"I'm not sure yet, honey. Valerie volunteers at the local animal shelter, and she said they're looking for a new secretary to help out a few hours per week.
And Donna has been on my case to join her book club.
Apparently, reading the book isn't compulsory but bringing a good bottle of wine along is. "
I smile. "They both sound like good options."
She nods, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on me. "And what about you, honey? When are you going back to Reno?"
"Once I'm confident you'll be good."
"Honey, it's going to be a long time before I'm good again. But I'm doing okay, and for now, that's the best I can hope for. You've already spent so much time here. I don't want you putting your life on hold any longer."
"I really don't mind." I pick at my fingers. "Ellie found us a great condo."
Mom perks up. "Oh, that's wonderful news. When is it available?"
"Right now. No one's in it."
"That's terrific."
"Yeah, it is."
"Go as soon as you want, Pres. I want you to get settled in and familiar with your surroundings before—"
She cuts herself off.
Force of habit, I suppose. I've been so adamant about not dealing with my impending situation, shutting it down and getting angry whenever it was raised, that the self-censorship seems to have stuck.
"It's okay," I say gently. "I think it's long past due for us to address the elephant in the room. Before I go blind."
I over-emphasize those last four words, saying them out loud, almost defiantly, like I refuse to cower to them. I mean, I'm fully fucking terrified of what's coming, but I'm going to grasp onto any shred of strength I can, in whatever form it comes.
"Oh, honey."
She crawls over to me through the piles of clothes on the floor and wraps me in her arms, her signature floral perfume tickling my nose.
"Hey, we can talk about it, but no crying, okay?" I say, sensing it coming.
"Okay, okay." She straightens, dabbing under her eyes. "So what's your plan?"
I let out a heavy breath and lean against the side of the bed.
"I'm not sure. I have to let go of my studies, at least for now, and like you said, focus on getting used to my new surroundings.
I've found some great videos online about people adjusting to vision impairment.
There are all sorts of things you can do. "
"Such as?"
"Braille classes, for one. And there are these incredible screen reader apps that read everything out loud. White cane training. Guide dog programs if I want to go that route. There are even people who come to your home and help you learn how to navigate it safely."
"And, of course, you know I'll be here, right? You're not going to go through this alone, honey."
"I know that. Thanks, Mom."
She hooks a finger around her necklace and plays with it for a moment. "And what about you and Vadim? How are things going? I imagine these past few months must have put a strain on your relationship."
"Actually, it hasn't been that bad. I think we talk more now than we did when I was back in Reno."
"You lock yourself in your room and chat away for hours every night," she teases.
I smile. "Yeah. It's been great."
What's even greater is that the truth has finally caught up to the lie. Vadim and I are falling in love, which means I can drop the pretense with Mom and just be honest with her from here on out, whether we end up together forever or not.
I still can't believe my luck, picking him and not some other random guy at The Butterfly Lounge that night. I owe you one, universe.
"Vadim will be excited to have you back."
"You really like him, don't you?"
She tilts her head. "How honest would you like me to be?"
"Completely."
"In that case, I love him, I love him, I love him," she squeals excitedly, and it's the most volume I've heard from her since Dad died.
For a brief moment, she sounds like herself again.
"In a completely different way than the way you do, of course," she continues.
"But Preston, my god! He is every mother's dream. "
"Right."
A beat passes.
"Is something wrong?"
"No. But…what if Vadim isn't as perfect as you think he is?"
"No one's perfect, honey. I'm sure he's got flaws like everybody else. Why do you ask? Is there something specific you're concerned about?"
"Not really. It's just…well, his family are in the casino business, and you know, while it's not, like, all gangsters and mafiosos stuff like it is in the movies, I get the sense that maybe sometimes they have to do bad stuff. That maybe Vadim has to do bad stuff."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. It's nothing. I'm probably overthinking it."
"No one is going to tick every single box," she says.
I chuckle only because Vadim pretty much does. He's kind. Strong. Caring. Honest. Actively working on his communication skills. Gorgeous. Loyal. Generous. Actively working on reining in his terrible dad jokes.
It's just… I have a niggle I can't shake. A niggle that he's going to get this Farkas guy back in a serious way. A serious, life-ending way.
And I don't like that.
I get that the guy blew up our house and almost killed us.
And yes, I know the police investigation went nowhere.
But that's precisely why we should have kept pushing through proper channels rather than Vadim taking matters into his own hands.
If everyone went around exacting their own brand of justice, the world would be an even scarier place than it already is.
Mom rests her hands in her lap. "Your father mentioned to me that you haven't told him about your condition yet."
"I haven't."
"You're going to have to, honey. He's going to find out one way or another."
"I know, I know. I'm just worried that I've put it off for so long. What if he thinks I've tricked him? Deliberately lured him in under false pretenses."
She lets out a small laugh, the first one I've heard from her in months. "That's almost as funny as Vadim telling us you two met by you accosting him outside a men's room at a bar."
She runs her hand along my forearm. "You obviously know him better than I do, but I am certain he's not going to think you've trapped him, or whatever other silly ideas you've got going on in your head.
If you want my advice, I'd tell him sooner rather than later because he might be hurt that you didn't tell him about it earlier. "
"Yeah. You're right." I had thought of that, too, and I agree with her completely. If he is going to have any negative reaction, I suspect it might be that. Doesn't mean I want to do it, though. "I'll do it soon. I promise."